quarta-feira, 30 de dezembro de 2009

Keeping Promises #1

Baby you give me too much comfort at night, it's why I end up falling asleep. Waking up sad not seeing your face, safe in the knowledge that one day you'll be next to me when I slowly open up my sleepy eyes. My warm sunshine in the morning. And as expected you'll be asleep, with a smile on your face and your shoulders slightly above the suggested height, because you live shrugging and sighing when I hold you, and it's okay, cos I do the same. I'll appreciate all that you are to me, give your head a kiss and whisper good morning in your ear, even if you don't wake up I'll do it every morning. I'll go make us breakfast, and contemplate what got me here in the first place.

Baby I love you, and you know i'll always be here for you. Sometimes i'll fall asleep but I swear I can't help it, I'm sorry for the times I do. But regardless, i'll be here every hour of every day, just for you. I won't lose interest, I won't get mad at you, I won't control, I won't get upset by you, And I won't stop loving you even if you turn into a blue alien twice my size.

I'll sit on the bed with my legs crossed admiring you, you're beautiful when you sleep. It fascinates me how breath taking this all can be. I can't focus, it's why I slow down in writing and drawing. If I could I would, but I just can't find the words anymore. It has gotten to a point where I feel something for you that is completely unexplainable and unimaginable. All I know is that my daydreams have gotten longer, much longer. I can see myself at night rolling around with you in bed tickling you, I can see you showing me a dress before every date we go on asking "how do I look babe?" making a cute pose, I can see myself telling you you look beautiful (because you always do), and I can see us in bed with loirinha.

I close my eyes and see paradise, orange flashes and warm lips that come greet me in the morning. But that doesn't happen yet, you still aren't here.
I miss you, I miss you a lot actually.
5 months are excruciating sometimes when I think about it, so I don't think about it.
And neither should you, I hate seeing you sad. We can wait, it won't be a problem.
Just promise me that when you get sad you wont hide it from me? Being able to help you is a skill i'm most proud of, so I want to be able to do that for you.

I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other things i've written.
Love you cupcake

terça-feira, 22 de dezembro de 2009

I Give Up On Poetry, It's Frustrating.

Having a voice's worth more than a soul, when you've sold that off for love and rock&roll.
It doesn't matter, let it be. Today there's nothing wrong with me.
And when they come and when they lay, we'll wait for sleep and get away.
These words that flow straight from my lips, they'll jump on paper like vivid ticks.
And when this stops making sense turn it over to side B, this is how I get you to fall in love with me.

I hate poetry, all the rhyme.
It's all too planned, no freedom aligned.
It seems to happen, I think I can
Put a smile on your lips, and a quarter in this can.

With all the talk about "the flow", if I got this skill I just don't know.

I think finally my sky has found a star.
In between the silly smiles and the planned nerd, food, paint wars.
Still got some skills i'm yet to hone.
But I can safely say, where you are is where i'll call home.

And fuck, I can't find anything that goes with "I love you".
I give up on poetry, it's frustrating.

sexta-feira, 18 de dezembro de 2009

A Little Rusty

They said in the future all my references will be islands covered with moments in time.
I'll turn a page, remember a time and forget where I am.
Turn another to notice just how quick time goes by, or how slow.
I don't understand time, anymore at least.

I had a dream where I stood next to you in the snow by a bridge on a river and told you that less is more. All I said after that was I Love You and nothing else.
And you looked perplexed, maybe joyous even. This was no normal three words, at least not like usual. This wasn't joking, this wasn't with a smile. This was a confirmation, that you're the only one who really matters.
I was wearing a long black coat with shirts and band shirts under it, some rough jeans and a pair of sneakers otherwise unfit for snow. You wore something equally as comfortable.
It upset me slightly that the sun wasn't out, but that wasn't what I focused on.
You turned and gave me a hug, and never let go. I was slightly confused, it's been a while since I've given in to these things. I guess i'm a little rusty.
And maybe it'll take a while before I really realize that there's no one like you, but i'm beginning to get an idea.

segunda-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2009

A Certain Lack of Orange Flashes

In my mind,

Friends, that I am yet to make
Hearts that I will never break
Lips that I am yet to kiss
A girl that I will always miss.

On the corner,
Notes that I am yet to play
Thoughts that I am yet to contemplate
Outlines I am yet to fill in
And a mattress in which to dream.

Over the mountains,
Planes on which i'll surely hop
A pretty smile making sure I never stop
People to play with at night
I keep my head held high.

quarta-feira, 9 de dezembro de 2009

Just A Thought

I miss you, have all day.
Just like every other day.
Every second spent on thoughts of you.

I Love You.

The big city lights just aren't the same anymore without you.
The beach is no longer pretty without your presence.
All the poetry in the world couldn't cover it.

I Love you.
I love You.
i Love You.

sexta-feira, 4 de dezembro de 2009

The Shivers

I walk the snowy northern woods with a rusty shovel on my shoulder, a couple ounces of whiskey left in this bottle. The cigarette on my mouth is wearing out like the clothes covering my body, and despite the protection against the winter they give me, I still shiver. I closed this window to this room a long time ago, and it's still cold. To no surprise of mine these pieces of fabric, (much like the paper wrapped around the cigarette playing phoenix with my mind and lungs and dismay) are being mirrored by these boots on my feet, that buckle finally after so many years of use. I realize the situation is precarious and slightly dangerous perhaps, but I burnt the bridge a long time ago, because I have no sense of strategy.

In the end I should explain that, if these traveling eyes told stories they wouldn't be happy I guess, even the boring days sought after a roborant medicine or poison after the words spoken or real-time images flashed before them. And these ears that over the years were shielded by musical notes have only heard besides them a wave crashing by the pier, birds singing in the morning, a beautiful girl saying "I love you", these feet crushing the well-packed snow as they go by marching towards something important, the cigarette same cigarette as in the start burning away, and a piano key that seems a little off when compared to the many others.

I think it's a curse, placed on me at some point by the past long before I can even remember, maybe my soul is marked by continuous treason against the creator, though I still am confused about his real existence, sometimes though my inner self pleads for an attempt at a prayer to see if these goosebumps that haunt me ever since I was a child will go away, even if for a short day. And I can hear poetry and other things that rhyme going in and out of my mind like fireflies buzzing about. I stop for a second to take a final swig at the whiskey and throw the bottle on the ground so I can keep the cigarette in it and away from my warm tired eyes.

I take this time to wonder about the things in my life, my pros and cons. My love for my girl, my warmth for my friends, my carelessness, my addiction to cheap nicotine, the shivers, the presence that haunts me in my sleep when I lay my head down that falls on the bed like an anvil filled with thoughts as always. So many. I wonder if the souls I just buried under 6 feet of dirt and 2 of snow will come back to haunt me, so I get a little scared and the shivers stop for a brief moment. I think the few coins I have in my pocket to play steel guitar are ready to start jingling again with my hurried pace and fear of a noise I just heard out in the woods.

I had a 20 and the dealer had a 15, I could have said stop and taken home the gold but I said "hit me". Just slipped out like a careless thought to a summer time friend. I sigh and crack a smile at an invisible ally, that exists but isn't there. Much like everything that's perfect in my life, that friend is far away. I left home early and yet, I can still taste the copper taste of sadness and poverty in my mouth swiveling around with the sugary taste of love and pathetic attempts of watering made by a winter dry mouth and lips. The shivers are back and these clothes can't stop them, I just feel tired.

I've gotten out of the woods, and the people in the subway stare at me funny. Over time my ability to not care about opinions faded along with the ability to hold back words that don't harm the souls around me. I slur some words to a T worker about directions to the area my house is in, I've become slightly forgetful with time. I can't remember their answer, so I sit down on a bench outside the station as college kids stare with pity in their eyes, or some sort of console of a kind that I despise. I put my hands covered by my sleeves over my mouth, bend down to my knees and start to daydream, wishing I could find my way back home so she could warm me up tonight.

I fall asleep hoping that the sun of yesterday replaces the clouds of today, tomorrow.


Relying on this heart, grabbing hold of a pack of cigarettes half full and a suitcase with the following contents:
Comic books, clothing, a toothbrush, a psp, my ipod charger, and a magazine to show my friends in the other end of the globe that I miss so much.
And we'll go on adventures, and we'll have fun, and we'll drink our livers away.
Or at least they will, I can't anymore.
I'll play the guitar, i'll laugh a little.
But that's all good.
Part of the plan.

Relying on this heart, grabbing hold of a pack of cigarettes half empty and some car keys.
I'll tell you I love you baby, and that i'm going to work. But i'm really not.
The engines will roar somewhere else, and before you can get your shoes on to get to school i'll be in your front lawn (sorry for running over the fence, i'm a little deprived of sleep).
And we'll go around the desert and watch the stars and if it gets a little cold cuz the sun went to sleep i'll just hug you and keep you warm and cute.
It's a little silly, it's a little cheesy. But it's alright, I love you so that's how I get.

I've confessed to mental priests and gone to churches with a liver full of alcohol, lungs full of cigarette smoke and Nevada highway sand, in my mind i'm settling for the basics but I keep my head up cuz the basics are the best things on earth. And if the small things are making me happy and i'm making everyone I love happy, then i've nothing to complain about. Perfections a little far, but only a couple plane tickets away.

quarta-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2009

Afternoon Verses

My only regret was, is, and always will be
That I can't be there in the afternoons to hold you
Till you fall asleep.

Breakfast in the morning keeps on being lonely still, a recurring theme in my stream of thoughts.
A big city kid hoodie (always) up in these outskirts of towns, don't know how I got here, don't know when the bottle stopped being in my hand. It's alright anyways I don't mind, the weathers too uncomfortable to be holding cold glasses at this time of night.

Sometimes I rhyme, sometimes I don't.
Sometimes i'll try, other times I won't.
What do you think?

And in the end it's like I said, my life's on standby and it ain't starting till i'm by your side babe.
The thunderstorms at night as constant as they may call me up to play lately, just don't seem any fun without you around. I have the patience, we have the time. Still a little hard though not being able to simplify.
What I feel is just a little too strong now to put it in words.

It's okay babe,
I'll hold hands, I don't mind.
As long as that gets me a kiss under the stars at night.

All the notes in the world couldn't speak for me, the colors much less they just warn.
And these words well, these words don't come close and never will. Should give up on trying to make them show you how I feel. But it makes you smile, so i'll keep at it. If I have to hold my head up and grin at tornado coming towards me I will, might get whiplash but it's worth it.
Just hope it throws me far and far away, by your side, even if for just one day.