Killer

You don't know how much I miss you
And I don't even know why
But it kills me when you pass me
And don't wave to say, "Hi."

And I missed it once more, again
When I saw you today and
Tomorrow maybe confidence
Will let me say, "Hello, friend."

I'd seen him each day for months now, as I sat on the front porch and peeked over my library book as he went by. He was always steadily pedaling that red bike. I could always tell when he was coming, even while my eyes gazed at the pages. As he turns the corner, the quiet squeak of the brakes and the click-click of the chain catching in the teeth.
I heard him coming again, and tossed aside To Kill A Mockingbird, running down the steps to meet him.
"Hey," I stepped in front of the bicycle's path, and the brakes squeaked again quietly as he stopped in front.
"Hello," he said, breathing heavily and pushing up the visor of his helmet.
"I just wondered," I said, looking at the bracelets on my wrist, "Where are you going every day?"
He laughed as quietly as his brakes. "Everywhere," I looked up to see him smiling and looking at the street, "and nowhere," He looked up.
"Why always on a bike? Surely you can have someone drive you wherever you need to go," His eyes crinkled and he laughed again.
"I don't have anywhere I need to go. I go just to go. And besides, I wouldn't want to drive anywhere. People are always going around in their cars with their ear-buds and portable DVD players... they don't understand the world enough," He looked at his feet and shuffled them on the ground. "They care about where the world is in relation to them, not where they are in relation to the world," He looked up again. "They care about where they are going, not where they are while they're getting there."
I nodded and backed up onto the sidewalk. The click-click started up again, and it began to fade down the street. "Hey! Wait!" I shouted. He looked back, but didn't stop. "Why do you always come by here?"
"To update my reading list!" He yelled over his shoulder.
I laughed as I picked up my book again. As he turned another corner, I thought I could see him laughing as he pedaled too.
I smiled. "It's not about where you go, it's how you get there," I said to myself, and I turned another page.

I was in a jungle of weeds. They climbed over each other in the shade of the house. I leaned my back against the metal siding. Sunlight filtered through the yellow-green leaves onto my face. It was warm. Flowers popped up through the Earth here and there, leaning to catch the sunlight as well.
A daddy-long-leg sat silently next to a grape hyacinth. I watched it. Small bugs climbed on the plant and ground next to it, but the spider didn't move. I looked at a circular knot in a small piece of wood. It blended in well with the dark soil. I looked up again at the hyacinth, but the daddy-long-leg was gone, and the tiny bugs were still there.
The leaves in the bush with lavender flowers rustled when I bent my head and they got tangled in my hair.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tan bug crawling on a dry brown leaf. It stops moving, and I almost don't believe that I ever saw it moving, but it moves again and scuttles under a leaf.
A spider web glistens where the yellow light hits it. Grasses bob in the wind. Flowers with soft leaves silently announce their presence, white among the berry bushes. Round leaves in a neighboring tree rustle in the wind and sound like a clapping crowd.
The weeds still shoot up through the ground. I may be in a jungle of weeds, but to me, it's a jumbled jungle of life.

(6/10/10)

I am in the world of the future,
And now it's the world of the past.

Everything will happen,
But those things never last.

I saw two rainbows under the sun
The light was straight up
And the water was flying below
And I from the side of the cliff did it view
And it arched
And it grew
And it bowed down to the surface of the shimmering mirror
And I smiled
Because these were finally those rainbows
Those rainbows
Not one, but two
That I could see at 12 in the afternoon

Do As I Tell You, Not As You Think

Am I just another toy of the media?
Am I just another plaything of everything I read?
Am I just another doll formed by models on billboards?
Am I just another game played by advertisements on the radio?
Am I just another knick-knack left on a shelf by the news channel?
Am I just another trinket told what's "right" and "wrong" by reality TV?
Am I?
They've used me so much that now it's hard to tell...

SensibleDrawing

Last night at 1 o'clock in the morning, this is what came out of me sitting on my bed. It is the first drawing ever that I've done that somehow showed to me exactly how I was feeling. I wasn't thinking about what I was drawing. Some of the things that I say are in the picture are not physically in the picture, just in my emotions as I view it. I just wish I understood more fully what I meant by it all.

-The drawing pad is upside down.
-It is a self portrait. I am the person in the picture, but my position is as the viewer; I am in the picture, but I am the one looking at myself as well.
-The head is a reflection of my position.
-The body is exactly how I was positioned.
-The chair legs never end.
-The book has words, but the words are not in the picture; they are floating above the page.
-The wall goes on forever in either direction
-The darkness is always moving, like rippling waves.

Offshore

Out, alone, in the ocean so green,
The sparkling bobbing waves are never seen.
The hands are in the millions, strength just alike,
Bodies are overcome if it comes down to fight.
The fingers clash as they eagerly crowd,
Claustrophobic faces put under dark shroud.
Struggling, pushing, the breath does no good.
Salty heavy liquid for air misunderstood.
It's hopeless, there's not worth to try.
Sink down the depths until tears again seem dry.
Fading, fading, fading only to black.
Lay down the body softly on back.
Sleep soundly, heavily, weighted below.

Strengthening white light still ever glows.
The colors are vivid now, unlike before,
A fragile new world of nothing seen, offshore.

Alone

If I were all alone in the world,
Time would leave me be
And I would ultimately be happy.
When everyone is gone
It's so much easier to feel alone.
The only thing that compares is the wind in your ears,
Your hair in your face,
Rain making steady beat to your pace.

I can look up to the mountains
They are protectors
but of what?
I can picture them through trees
Instead of this urban jungle.
I can hear birds
Instead of the incessant pound and click
of wheels on fake ground.
I can feel the sun filtering through clouds gently
Instead of putting up fight to be seen
Through clouds of purple and green smog.
I can taste the rain falling on my lips
Instead of mingling in rainbow puddles.
I can smell dirt and wet grass
Instead of lawn clippings and pungent weed killers.
The world could be so beautiful,
It has so much potential to be
If only I was alone.
The urban jungle gone.
Just me.
The fake ground gone.
Just me.
The smog dispersed.
Just me.
The rainbow puddles drained.
Just me.
The weed-killers dead themselves.
Just me.

Humanity has the poison touch.
Take anything with worth-
Don't worry, it won't hurt much-
Place it in a sterile white building.
There are masks
And gloves
And smelling bottles and utensils passed around
Like a sick masquerade
Put up like the rest of the world is on one big freak parade

Bright lights.
White walls.
Glass bottles.
Metal utensils.
Elastic gloves.
Synthetic masks.
Like a sick masquerade.

whisper a symphony
downtown after the storm
you say never to run
our summer is all gone
rob the only kiss with wet finger
and ask to be mine as none is

My heart came packaged torn asunder
And the minuscule pieces are all I can find
I'm cumbersome and scared
But I'm confident in my ability to love, be it blind.

My eyes are salt.
My mouth is a dancing marionette.

And that is how I express my feelings for you.