I do a lot of understanding, lately.
I understand
I understand-
I will never understand anything,
Like how life can just change with such
striking acceleration
or how you can give and give and give
and get back less and less and less.
I will never understand anything, I mean it.
But, I’ve been doing a lot of understanding, lately.
I’ve been doing a lot of understanding and maybe a bit too much.
Maybe any amount is too much.
Maybe I should stop thinking
just beat the kill switch
so my brain will stop talking
and stop telling me about everything
so I can tell you
I understand
when really, I know nothing.
Maybe I should let my eyes do the seeing
for a change.
Maybe I should start listening.
Maybe I should start doing
start acting
Start being a subject, not an object.
I’m getting used to this home in the predicate
it’s time to break out.
Maybe I should run away for a while,
and do something really rash, like
not try to understand more than what I’m supposed to, perhaps.
Make something, stop taking things for granted,
Or bother someone else other than myself
with all of this bullshit.
Life, I mean.
Because life’s bullshit anyway, right?
Only worth what you can sell it for
and the economies down now anyway.
I’m just trying to figure this whole thing out,
and it’s going to take me a while to iron out the kinks.
I hope you’ll understand.
Death. a strange concept
To be laughing, walking, breathing
And the next second you are just
a vanishing memory in the
crappy minds of forgotten friends
and old good lovers.
The end comes
when they put you six feet under,
And worms weave with your skin
And people should be giving words of comfort
Or lines like ‘’heaven is the greatest place’’
‘’I will never forget the things we do together’’
then … one, two tears fall.
Is that it?
I’m not what most people expect
I am not relieved that heaven acquired
A new soul, a new whatever you were
I do not think you are in a better place,
You were right where you have to be,
where you belonged
here, next to me
People will never understand
how you were that living thing
That perfect representation of perfection.
Confess
I should confess
I won’t confess
I hate this
I may sound like a cliché, in deny
Perhaps childish and immature
But what the hell
It isn’t fair
So no, I will not stand there
give the words they want to hear.
Fragments of those moments,
phases of hope for the world that still exist
Hope false as any myth
Anything exists now.
Time slow down
Down to nothing
Nothing at all
All that’s left is time.
It’s really late and you’ve been drinking
So I should drive you home
But you know what I’m thinking
And you’re still too general
Your mask has faded away
By my careless conversation
And I look deep into your eyes
Cause I want you to know just what I’m want
With my hand in your back I lead you out of the bar
You lean against me, touch my scar
Trying to keep your balance as a logical excuse
We sing for nine blocks and talk across six more
And after we park, you show me your front door
A few more drinks to find a nonexistent courage
“The air is different here” I know exactly what you mean
You know just what I want but love it isn’t free
So if I lie to you, will you lay down next to me?
If I say just what you want to hear
Will you do what I want you to do?
…What I want you to do to me?
Do you?
I blame @modestholdings for this. But to quote Shep Smith, this is the president, now in the 21st Century. (Taken with instagram)
I have one art in the upcoming “Memes” show at Gallery 1988! If you’re going to be in LA, please come by and see it.
