(untitled)
Stains of my passions past
Float about, unmistakably
They never entirely fade
Cannot be erased, nor can
my consciousness
The passion for new ideas
Grows inside me, deep
Does control really help improve circumstances?
Faceless entities called consumers
Are the majority of people different from Orwell's proles?
Mindless, nameless, accepting?
A menacing, ever approaching voice
whispers this sinister word
No
(untitled)
I'm vexed and perplexed
From standing in your hair
I tried to stand on a billboard
but my glow fell short
And it's damn empty when you wake up
That first Monday into vacation
No alarm clock; no bells and whistle
No teenaged fine print
It's a sin to be alone with your thoughts
Or so you'd have me believe
Bees leave trails of acid
You only thought it was honey
Money papers my heels
I need an umbrella
To stop the fall of acid rain
Spewing from your ears
Seems like the world
Done up and died
Listen, you can hear the pebble breathe
(untitled)
changing
at the drop of a hat
ugh, disdain the damn cliché
i want to think in riddles but never in rhyme
unstuck in time would be fascinating
and gratifying
if just for the excuse to say
so it goes
sitting, in a stifling room
too many technicalities
and i am not really here
are any of us?
which is real?
The Red Spot
Dance with plastic devil horns
And spin on, stardust and moonbeam
Starchildren eat smarties
Tart and sour, swirling
Used to think I could live on Pluto
Ice planet
In my ending of ends,
I'll be the one with no why
And I'll still have my wheres and hows
Though they weren't my first friends
Sparkly and tatter-torn
My life reduced to these
And you, slipping away on the meteors
Stranded, I am, in Jupiter's
gravitational pull
