Tag Archives: fun

delays

the heat is addling

the corners of my eyes

bleeding with tears

that i so madly despise

.

crowds so dense

they all suffocate

as footsteps go on

of weary and late

.

i take a breath

but i can find none

fun was all fun

but now it’s all done

.

i’m stuck and bored

i don’t know why i try

“home sweet home”

has never been such a lie.

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vices

faith may

be a fickle fun

and dreams

may try to run

but when all

is said and done,

you are still

the only one.

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Filed under Poetry

Telltale Weather

i love the rain

the weather’s pain

mirages left

on dull pavement

.

i love the sun

the weather’s fun

heat haze slows

on concrete glow.

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here for nothing

Watching as the fire starts
I could be here all night
Never really wanted much
Only ever asked for flight
It could be you…

~*~

i have

no desire

to read

into your

messy mind

as if there

was anything

i would find

taking turns

at insults

like our

hurtful words

don’t mean

a thing

like it was

just another

bee sting

i’ll be okay

i have gravity

to keep my

heart right

where it

should be

but your ribs

are broken

and ransacked

yet don’t you

even see?

i have no

intention to

watch as you

trip again over

your own

callous tongue

but i have

to admit, it’s

actually

kind of fun.

~*~

And I could be fire
And I could be rain
And I could be caught in
Everything that’s in between…

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Speed Limit

Offered her a pill and now she yelling
Took her from the hills, now we rolling
Probably get her killed by the morning
Pedal to the motherfucking floor, man
Full acceleration, hear me roaring…

~*~

Driving fast, breaking traffic lights, think I’m going insane

Changing gears endlessly but never changing to the right lane

Right hand on the left end, strap yourself and swallow your tongue

The wrong turn makes my eyes spin like oxy, are you having fun?

Worrying slow, think I’m crashing on windshields and pedestrians

Changing my mind again but it’s too late, and everything’s gone

Right now I’m left behind, seatbelt off and choked on my uncertainty

The wrong way makes my car spin like xans, but who’s up for doing ninety?

~*~

Pop another, now it’s hurting
Sip and driving got me swerving
Book a table, I’m reserving
Now it’s feeling like a circus…

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Halo Blue

We tore our phones to shreds
We didn’t answer nothing
To all friends and family, lost or dead
I couldn’t get much sleep
You lost your self in mine
It couldn’t get much worse…

~*~

Systematic shutdown, and one by one my optimism closes

You pulled the plug on the starlight that keeps me awake

I may not be in my melting point, but I’m still a hot-lead mess

I think I’d rather stay dead than to keep my tongue fake

.

There’s nothing else I would feel if not for our blue hair bet

But mine is deep ocean dark, yours is a bubblegum ice cream hue

Even if we blended together, we can’t ever be a scarlet sunset

Does that mean we should just stop trying? I say it’s all up to you

.

I’m usually full of shit, but I like you and I don’t like anyone, hey

You’re one of my favourite few, and if I were well-versed, I could say

That my eyes are only four glimpses away from reaching your sun

But I’m not, so I guess all I can say is a cliche point-blank ‘you’re fun’

.

Fine, it’s not all about me and my sadness, but I don’t have to care

I’ve been withholding my cries for help ever since I discovered it was there

I might not be cool enough for your cult, but I wanna join the club

Of the haters asking for another lobotomy and demented idiots equally in love

.

With this systematic shutdown’s taking over, one by one my cynicism closes

And you pulled out the wires and circuits to turn off the stars that burned into my sleep

I don’t think I’m thinking straight from thinking about your thoughts all the time

But I would rather stay down than to keep lying to myself about what I can take and keep.

~*~

I think I’ll die obsessed
Let’s give up fighting back
You don’t need to grip the best
Because we’re lucky people
And you’ll never have to sleep alone…

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Gloom Boys in Natural Blue

I have candy floss over my eyes, and no one can ever take that away from me.

I’m a double dare away from jumping into the clouds and getting lost in heaven, and even though their motionless lips tell me otherwise, imploring that the despondent sun will burn my frail skin and my charred cape will drag me back down into the ground, I’ll simply fly over them and defy what it means to be human.

For being an angel is not made of mere matchsticks and febriculic feathers, rather, it is the catastrophic sensation of breathing in your existence from your lungs and never letting it go, holding your oxygen in so tight that your chest will hurt, and tasting the very molecule that the wind is built up of, all before exhaling heavily and letting others share the light that passed the very chambers of your symphonic heart, and inhaling that decadent love once more like it’s the only sugar high you need.

I’ll be dancing a hundred footsteps as I reverently play the halo’s mellifluous beat around my head over and over again, but I shall never get tired of laughing and listening, and the glow never fades, the glow never coalesces into a darker retrospect of aspirations and bad habits, the glow is etched at the very back of my confounded head and if I close my eyes and wish a little softer, I can see pastel whispers floating and resonating behind my dreams, smiling quietly as it tells me fairy stories about twill reveries and acrylic oneirism.

Will you tell me that much? Will you beg in blazing yellow and speak in purple hand grenades, waking up again when the water parks detonate and soothing water splashes everywhere? This is not my gloomy lullaby meant to be kept under hushed tones and clandestine affinities, buried under the bones of ‘92, rather it is an everlasting caprice that is meant to be jubilantly shouted from the rooftops, until the nightingales and mynas and bluejays and hummingbirds mimic the colours in my eyes and echoes back a chromatic rainbow to be chased.

Am I not making any sense, or is the semblance of my self-optimistic throes withdrawing like violent ocean waves? It is not their fault, and it certainly isn’t mine. It’s yours. It’s all yours. This nonsensical tirade making me backlash the usual defamation that is my wretched soul, making me passionate for what used to be desert sand and black light, now efflorescent flowerbeds and ultraviolet ecstasy, making me smile and laugh childishly at the most fickle of things like a madman staring limerently into the cornflower moon. You let a playful cyclone into my bedroom while I was sleeping, and it ravaged my closet and spun me all the way to your window until I was sickly dizzy, and you held your hand out to steady me and pulled me in, winking cheekily at the cyclone and returning its breezy grin before waving it goodbye.

Now that I’m here, will you promise to keep me? Airplane conversations and clustered entertainment isn’t enough to leave me amused. Are you laughing at my sadness yet? Are you performing odes along to me mournfully singing about the underhanded depression that makes me mad all the time and fucks my worried flurried mind up when the night is young and makes me go down the long road home? I’m a car crash that you can’t ever look away from, and I can’t ever look away from you. But don’t follow me to the site of the wreck. If your favourite set of stairs is the one up to my room, piece together the trail of love notes I left in the kitchen that say it all, and when you find me, I won’t ever have to let you go up. Let’s be lucky people, you and me.

Amid tantrums and crybabies, you’re nothing but rare. I may not be a warrior and you may think I’m the worst, but I know I don’t have to sleep alone again. So won’t you stay awake, stay awake for me? If you’re singing about la-la-la-love, my tune is more to the beat of a la-la-la-lobotomy. You’re my yellow lovely jealousy, in natural blue and viridian green memories, I’m losing my mood in a late night phone call, shading everything else from silver to pink to hiding under porches and craving territorial phantasms, it doesn’t matter. My common sense is powerless when you speak, and I’m not royal but I’m stupid for you, and 11:11 can go away because I don’t wish for anything else. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s be tired together. It’s more fun that way, don’t you think?

I have gloomy clouds over my eyes, and only you can ever take that away from me.

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A Happy Kind Of High

I know that there’s no dealing
With the way I’m feeling
I’m so out of touch with everyone 
And everything’s a blur to me…

~*~

I’m super high on happy

The dopamine nearly kills me

Bouncing like an excited puppy

Smiling wears me all the way to revelry

Slightly crazy, mostly high

But right now I’m too stupid to die

I may have ditched the walk to town

But playing sour notes won’t get me down

I could talk about love all day

But don’t get me wrong, ‘cause it’s easier to say

Than to complain about my cold coffee

The sugar tastes sweet, laughing over candy

I’ll never be royal and I don’t wish for gold

But I just don’t want to do as I’m told

I might have missed another point

But keep your eyes off me until you appoint

Life in blue and colour-coded pastel

The empty picture frames I have can go to hell

I may be tired, but there ain’t nothing to it

And I won’t stare and quietly sit

Because I love songs that scream, songs that dream

Songs with titles ripping at the cover’s seams

I love songs that I can dance to at the top of my lungs

And songs that don’t make any sense, I won’t leave them unsung

Made in America, from Houston to California

A wild party in Baltimore, childish theme parks in Florida

From Australia to England, each road and tour a trip

For each minute I walk and listen, ain’t anything I’d skip

I’m dizzy and frisky on this unfamiliar feeling

My hands raised in devil signs, my feet touching the ceiling

I’m confused, almost passing out from hysteric serotonin

But still I want more, enough to take me all the way to heaven

I’m super high on happy, and I will write a million words

About my eccentric thoughts in this square-cut world

Because I may be sad all the time, but that doesn’t mean

That I’m not allowed to have fun, and in the rarest times that I do

It’s more than what I need to carry on and crave life again.

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Entertainment on the 411

Give me a break ’cause I can’t take
Another second, you’re a fucking headache
I ain’t got time to change your mind
How can I move you when you’re stuck in your ways…

~*~

Crawl on your knees and fake a breakdown

In front of me, ‘cause you’re just so adept at that

What you believe is an unpopular opinion

You make me want to spit on my open-wound slats

Just for fun, and then do it again

.

Don’t tell me that this cruelty was what I needed

But sure enough, everyone needs a fucking lie to lead

And if you can’t fix me, hold my head underwater

Cut me open with your tongue, maybe then I’ll feel better

Just for fun, and then do it again

.

If it’s a carousel, it’s spinning without gravity

If it’s a rollercoaster, I won’t hold on to the metal bars

Fling me into open space, not wide enough to contain your insanity

Because if this life is a cheap-thrill ride, then fuck it sweetheart

But I’m afraid that you won’t be going too far

Just for fun, can we do it again?

~*~

You’ll see it, you’ll see it
And you’ll see it when you believe
Yeah, hell yeah, you make me wanna
Slit my wrists and play in my own blood…

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We March To The Beat Of A Different Drum

Listen honey, I’m a lot like you
Don’t trip, let us show you what to do
You say hey, let’s cheers to us
We’re gonna be victorious
Don’t matter what they say…
~*~

Hey, let’s cheers to us

Another year of crazy fuss

Madness, stories, and reminiscing

The same beat our hearts are singing

Some connections may be hazy

And the threads may be entangled badly

But I know I’ll always find my way

Back to what we have built in solidarity

You only live once, the anthem we live under

As we lose our sane to the fun and misadventures

Here’s cheers to another year, and to the next

May we create more memories that we don’t take for granted.

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Filed under Poetry