as if I didn't know it was you
after all this time
becoming nothing inside of me
I'm tired of carrying your leftovers
sabotaging my victories
you who saddened my planets
look up there the missiles strolling
already looking for people like us
look there among your memories
there must be something that justifies us
a damn happy breakfast
after absence
two or three tears
and an ashtray full of goodbye
This was a sports arena once considered better than good.
At least, it was located in a better neighborhood.
It's where the Phillies and Eagles would play.
From 1971 to 2003, the teams would stay.
The place reminded me of a big concrete ashtray.
Times changed for this famed sports venue.
In early 2004, Veterans Stadium had to bid adieu.
The Phillies staged an early Sunday morning event.
Phanatic pushed the plunger, and down the place went.
There's an old ashtray in the middle of the room,
half filled with ashes and half filled with gloom.
A reminder of things burning away,
like a mind filled with memories, too many to stay.
It's sitting next to an old photo book,
frozen inside are the smiles that were took.
Pictures of Summer's youth and naive trust,
now sitting still and covered in dust.
There's a chair left empty, the other one used,
by an old man with a heart, lonely and bruised.
There's a church down the street, with a graveyard out back.
A stone with two names, together forever, Rita and Jack.
Now Rita lies waiting for her life's mate,
while Jack sits alone til they carve in his date.
3/20/20
White and orange,
Poorly glazed.
A moment forever,
Sealed in clay.
It was my gift to you,
For nervous fingers.
It you've long forgotten,
With me its presence lingers.
I finish my day with a nicotine high, and I find myself staring at the stars in the sky, thinking of him, thinking of the ghosts, of lips together and waves on the coast. Wet rocks and liqueur shots, driving fast, avoiding the cops. Every flick of my lighter is a memory, and every stump of a cigarette butt is another three. Death may be coming, but at least I'm happy.
I wanna make love to you
until your crotch turns blue.
Just climb up and enjoy
the view.
It's a natural urge and
I'm on the verge
of losing my patience.
They say you gotta
take your time,
spend a dime
before dropping a rhyme,
oh, **** I've been there.
It's all just a well devised scheme,
a traditional theme
you must align with.
Since the very first
microbe noticed an
easy road
they've been
takin' a fat load
without even a slight goad.
We're all toads,
so it servers us right.
I got no problem with the way
the system works,
and the ass of civilization will
continue to twerk
until someone realizes they're
not the first to conquer
a sandpaper valley.
Oh well, I guess
they'll justcall me gay
and head out
to the pussy fields
for another long sweaty day.
This world is our molten ashtray,
Revolving life, its stained glass grey
From passionate years, burnt away
Like shedding loose skin, smothered in
Smoking hordes by fresh flaming sin,
Yellowed fingers, where to begin?
Shredded leaves blaze under dry moon,
Clarity calls and leaves next noon,
Too close, yet too much, and too soon...
the burning of lost hope
the stentch of problems
the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar
taste less
the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs
the colored of teeth that they paint
cells that will never recharge
the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society
no imagination
just the urges of wanting and needing
the stress that relies on the pollutution of ashes
ashes that collapse with the devils sins
gone with the light
the life of one greatness, killed by the aroma of deception
deception of a burning and inhaling sensation !!!
the burning of lost hope
the stentch of problems
the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar
taste less
the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs
the colored of teeth that they paint
cells that will never recharge
the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society
no imagination
just the urges of wanting and needing
the stress that relies on the pollutution of ashes
ashes that collapse with the devils sins
gone with the light
the life of one greatness, killed by the aroma of deception
deception of a burning and inhaling sensation !!!
the burning of lost hope
the stentch of problems
the flavor of tasteless bubblegum without sugar
taste less
the stabbing and torture on the breathe of ones lungs
the colored of teeth that they paint
cells that will never recharge
the life of an empty hole, burning through the ashes of society
no imagination
just the urges of wanting and needing
the stress that relies on the pollutution of ashes
ashes that collapse with the devils sins
gone with the light
the life of one greatness, killed by the aroma of deception
deception of a burning and inhaling sensation !!!
i stared at the ashtray
a trapdoor design
silent huffs and puffs
the haze, unseen, unfeeling
the bricks, mocking, urging
the dead fire still crackling, popping in my ears
the ashtray wants me. My soul
it smelt the dark mascara
pressed its ears against my rattling chains
my dark cloths only inviting its gaze
"touch me, taste me, and i shall be yours."
the wind briskly inviting its smell
now i lie in a cracked corner
rocking back and forth