when i met you,
i was drizzled dreaming
puddled potential
melted rebellion
under tulsa summer sky
you and i
had barely begun
i broke my arm
grinding rusted rails
new faces in the hall
feel like free hydrocodone
everyone here is so hip
and i'm so alone

so i'll kick push my way to your backyard
that first night there was acid tripping on your freshly painted walls
i didn't know anyone who had so many friends all at once
red cups in your backyard
i saw her tucked on your arm
and i had no reason to stare
we didn't know each other
except from the days
i watched you on stage
vinyl walls didn't confine you
months later, you were still on my mind
craving eye contact
there was always a subconscious
that imagined what our days would look like

caught up, we lost each other for a while
whirlwinds of lost emotion
and low self esteem
that make oklahoma tornados feel like breeze
i'm so sorry
that he spoiled every part of me that was worth keeping
white washed clean cut bleached feelings
he said
love
isn't a feeling
its a combination of chemicals
it's your choice to stay with me
losing my identity
inside of dark muffled pop punk concerts
i can't decipher my feelings under all of this low screaming
but
being with you, is as easy as breathing
you sound so different
than the music i wanted so badly to fall in love with
the other day you compared me to your guitar
and i felt more infinite than ever before
sessions on your un-soundproofed floors
i kept getting lost
i could watch you pick for days
entranced in everything
that comes as easy to you
as breathing
i didn't want to, but i kept leaving
and you were always there
with a red cup on your lawn
i started to dream
of being the girl tucked on your arm

that night at the bonfire
he faded away
i stayed awake for you
blurred kisses dizzy trips
but all of it still made sense
blacked out by the lake
told myself it was a mistake
disguised desire
trying to deny that you were the
only one worth waiting for
and i prayed to god you would wait for me
that you wouldn't lose faith
in my train wreck of a psyche
that you always managed
to help me forget about
just for the night,
when it came down to it
you bring more light to my eyes
than the warmth from my sheets
stained useless
from long nights and lost mornings
i couldnt explain why
you kept drifting into dreams

it was always you
i kept running back to

when we got together, i was puddled promises
i promise we were nothing but a chemical experiment
of different personalities
mixed together polar opposites
I'm sorry
you deserve so much better
but you were never my second choice
or a last resort
it just took a thunderstorm
to finally see the sunshine
you
are my moonshine,
everything i dreamt love should be like
i'll ride for miles in your honda odyssey
bonnie and clyde
we can be rebels to the third degree
ride down riverside like we always do
in the sunday sun
your hand in mind, keeping me young
we'll play music make up words as we go along
we write our own songs
to the chest beats and high tops
lost heart to heart
lets forget every one

you and me it's purple skies
and late school nights

one song plays in my mind
about your green eyes
and his eyes were blue
i guess i forgot the order
of the rainbow
because this entire time
it should have been you

when you leave for college,
you'll be
drizzled dreaming
melted potential
under the tulsa summer skies
countless high nights
low notes and full flights
and it's going to be so hard to let you go
and to let you chase your dreams
but i'll always be here
reminiscing the color green

Flippant polymaths exude the frippery of travail for lapsed inordinate surgical gains in temporal but temporary acclaim that owes its provenance to the gullarge accentuated by the guttural tempests of silent windfalls that wrestle with sharks and snarky cagamosis with pilfered fame without rulers for rules that own the profligacy of a cineaste game

We cannot surpass our talents with ease when the treecheese of inevitable distance between equipoise and insanity is a tantamount inanity of prolixity for the sake of freedom rather than servitude to the slow meandered steps of trudged verbigeration that needs to be exorcised from the seat of authority for the plodding inconvenience of time earned that shakes the listless yearning people who lie and spurn

Demagogues are trifles because they are anoegenetic and care not for the abligurition that consumes the energy of a dismal life lived on fringes rather than reaped with grimaces for binges that continue to absorb the painful pangs of twinges that hedonists are of interest

We cannot exorcise the demons that give stygian weight to exchequers beyond the gamut of money but rather the currency of velocity of thought that owes its weight to weightlessness of spaces between the spacious and the limited tract of isolative territory that many mendicants looking for sustenance travail in insolence and in perjury of their solemn duties for self-serious honesty they lack a vista to see their crimes as more than just a pettifoggery of disputatious wranglers that wrench and then contemn the objects of their moral scruples to contend with nothing but the vacant expanse of a limitless injury for a momentary slip of cultivation and countenance

Frippery is hard to cobble with lapidary wit because succinct grievances are fallow ground for the permanence of atrocity and the temperance of felicity to conform to the desiccated pathways of limpid but livid excoriations of willful ingenuity met with aleatory rambles that sprawl incalescence with words as a dying occupation that is resurrected from the abeyance of its pragmatic utility to distinguish class from crust.

The triadic fatuousness of snarky sharks recruiting the gullarge of paranoiacs to deputized alacrity lead many strident vocations astray as they pilfer the nullibiety of spectral ignorance and defy the gravitas of the primiparas of a swollen technocracy, an outrage that scarecrows with prevenance have adumbrated against with strident accelerations of sublime velocity

So we swim in perilous straits against the demiurge of inclemency in fated rittles for the turpitude of wraiths and engineer every aborning day a new foofaraw of unalloyed atrocity
Now more than never should be deployed to ensure that the castigation of scoundrels and guttersnipes that exert a rip tide to those stranded on the shores of littoral desiccation might find the pristine beachgoing public an amenable treat proffered by exorcised sheepishness in reiterative bleats that quarkswarm only the antinomy of sentient masteries by shoveled civilizations proctor to horological insistence in design

So we designated an abeyance of heydays to create a rippled nostalgia that creeps in the winter storms that singe even glabrous ignorance with the twinges in absentia of the regal crows that circle the sun as the sustenance of the alighted moon as we reach for the heaved Richter teeming with ablution for venial commination of prolix croons that exert a Palo Alto rhyme

Phenomenological fields distal to the cephalocaudal origination of limber and the ironic counterpoint to that strife in excess rather than dearth of the henchmen behind the exchequer showcase that fluid thoughts surpass the limits of the dentistry of cosmetic cosmology simultaneously a scientific boon but a coarse albatross

We are criminals in a world stranded by ****** apostasy because of the sincerity of minstrels meets plodding human ignorance as exemplars rather than the apotheosis of divine excoriation of wastrels and flattybouches who webdoodle their way into the extinction line in some computer file swiped from eccedentesiasts who often in uncouth barbarity forgetfully abide without the temperance of floss

So what are we to make of magisterial wits of wiseacres who pilot tenable objectives like Indiana Jones flexing his comical whip when the gunfire of cacophony inundates our ears with a lisp of cockalorum imposture rich in chewing tobacco and its ungainly gripes and tenacious grip

Should we seek salvation from the treecheese of arboreous terrain amenable to the newfangled windfall of agricultural whims that dare now with caprice but not quixotic disdain to reconfigure the parsimonious levered engagement of melliferous fungible transaction between sabbaticals and chief financiers dubbing the vociferous limn of the primeval fulgurant incandescent ethereal quips?

We strive for palaces issued with dimes, dozens and scores of retinues that retain the patina of sophistry as the gullarge makes the vangermytes cozy in their defensively mechanized citadel buffered against the unheralded malversations of mammon intersecting with primordial chemistry that give the philanderer a guise of philanthropy despite professed gainsay that perjures because hucksters are winsome with fiduciary risk

So we calumniate with lapsed puns and Potter’s Spells as we dredge the indemnity of bustling heydays that extend beyond the bailiwick stated because of the prolonged trace of nostalgia that frazzles our voluntary expeditions with misanthropy as each libertine instinct becomes subject to stop and frisk

How to balk at such a garrulous repartee as proffered by swanky intransigence that shakes it off in a quaky town that hates the Swift refrain that endangers the fatalism of recuperated foresight borrowed from the armamentarium of corrupted killjoys who swim in a dalliance with the itchy myths that drift from powerlessness to voguish debauchery of insouciant internecine fringes frayed by the tomes that decry Stygian drift

Shiftless and rooted in rintinole absolved by plackiques that enchant the voyeurism of repined squalor of industrious frippery deracinated from the aureate complicity of largesse calibrated to mobilize the skittish mercurial yuppies to a dance with divestiture, taxes and an earthen death, we sprint the evergreen mile toward the scrupulous invention of enthusiastic euphemisms arbitrated by the procrustean silt of the leaky faucet of enigmatic timelessness etched by chiselers to beat “Us and Them” and warn the vanguard of the front rank about the thespian rift

Exhaustive rescue squads prepared for the dearth of monetary heft in times of perilous drought denigrate the authors of famine to the indulgent parents of inordinate sabotage of narrative for riskless arbitrage that is the outrage of sciamachies between platonic indifference and the tantrums of the feckless in the dangerous hearth of the cavernous wilderness of limitless imaginations that stagger so far beyond orbit they become satellites to vagrancy and whittled paragons too distant to dissolve in the ethereal chemistry of incalescent uproar sadly flanged by the Dopplers of ephemeral fate

Squandered by the desuetude of a snarky intervention I issue invective at the proctors of deafferented limbs for barbarous swine meeting expediency in demise, bemoaning the placid distaste of rectified cries that issue candles for each acrimony beyond the permutation of the staid inflexible limit of 88’

Bashfully we careen through argosies of curiosity to fossick the stalactites of timeworn intuition and reckon with their converse ironies that drip faucets of mildew that remain hidden unless poked by plucky flashlights to inspect the paragon of erosive filigrees of a bewildering paradox of polarized design that one meets the ceiling at inception and the cousin strives to clamber empty space to know with faint certainty the bulldozed irony of superordinate coexistence

Now we return to the majesty of a spurned wiseacre that evades the snappy parlance of a wrenched friction between the physical and the metaphysical elements that constitute a commensurate reality so supernal that its ostentation creates lifetimes of reiterative growth that spawns crimson red and bloviated blues to find a fulcrum of balance between the malversation on one hand of criminal sinister machinations and on the other hand the execrable self-righteous ignorance of a hidden vehicles of dexterity that are subsumed by a subtlety of legislative graft that owes its forbearance to the sanctimony of perseveration without the laurels of persistence

Now we wed the concepts between the ambidexterity of a monolithic titan who wanes rather than waxes himself because his glabrous head already exposed requires nothing new because the empire that struck back is denuded by the thorny imbroglio of a sunken Rose

Timmynoggies are perfect for haberdasheries of saccharine and glib excellence as measured by the ****** cacophony of unmerited applause that strains the resourcefulness of the silent mastery of magistrates in mellifluous alcoves surrounded by the soundproofed rigors of an execrable dereliction wilt into the imaginations of the few that watch movies with errantry rather than pleasantries of gaudy nonsense enchanted by a striptease of the wanton zeitgeist that some balk at but everyone knows

Time earns the spangled banners of sloganeering because of the fastidious creations of pole folders that maneuver between quips borrowed from antique movies and swindled affectations of yearning of many of all fears inevitable with the malevolent passage of the technocracy from cheers to vehement inveighed jeers

We should fear the watershed because it necessitates the evaporation of winsome ambition and implores the subservience of a guiltless fascination with abominable regress concomitant to the acceleration of money preceding a whipsawed downfall ensured by the funereal spates of requiems to oneironauts who plunged to their deaths on headlong flickering whims past the craggy landscape of lunar concordance and through the abeyance of qualms to flabbergasted self-importance in the eradication of provident fears

Memorials exist encoded in the temporal twinges of agony that straddle the cardiovascular throbs of impermanence that sweat with each simple beat to blather about the repetitious nature of a livid nature scrambled in exodus of the emigration of senseless blather to the subroutines of regimented sleepless paragons of travail in every pedestrian feat accelerated with each passing foot traversed by vigilant and eager feet

Tempests crowd the cluttered hamartithia of dredged incompetence leading to the foreclosure that precedes the simple derelictions that amount to grievous uncertainties that squawk in the plumage of the frippery decay of an autumnal fall from gracile riches landlocked without room to sprawl rigged against every track that is a surefire gleeful keepsake to meet, greet and serenade the claques adorned with the monikers of the Greeks

Trembling beneath the weight of mellifluous sauntering dingy designs that exude the anguish of our provident but incidental remonstration against the plodding indifference of the artistic clerisy we sputter against intransigent annulments of the emotive human engine calibrated with creaky pistons that rumble with furor of abrasive protest in timely haphazard elemental designs for vanguard ears

Tridents shed the fossicked leaves that are divisible by two but not inevitably glue that solders the identities of people congregated around a situation of gleeful sprees rather than wistful regress into a temerity without regret that gets dangled in the purview of the spiteful wings of armies that drawl when they sing vapid songs for vaped bongs but not the soberly cheers because of the deafening din of conformity oblivious of the honorific crescendos that still peak after so many restless years

Confederates line the avenues of bustling caverns of cumulative human disdain so willfully flouted by the wrenched corrosive frictions of vibrant deformation of the cultural narrative that encapsulates the collective bubbles chewed and jettisoned like bandied candy and then defamed without justice because  hurricanes churn up the reclusive emergence of protective vanity chased down as a sunken cost for a siphoned glory of tribal pride despite the strictures of logic

Creeping with insistence is a subaudition of governing gravel that entombs many steadfast lies that embodied people living delusory lives under a paradigm that has been subverted by the feats of science into a morass of irrelevance and the chances are many of those so deluded still breathe the air now more polluted but balk at the memories of the fallen passengers on the convalescent train that accelerates sunblind but respectfully toward a systematic engrossment of swollen intellects whimpering about the tautologic

We finance our prescient rodomontade with rodeos equipped with zany clowns who spurn the tridents of Poseidon because of the iridescent gloss of sheepish and flippant zealots who churn against the wrestling match of televised irony with accentuated eccedentesiastic disdain amended by a tolerable diversion of ennobled gallantry zip-zagging among the many valid quodlibets and missing the mark entirely on purpose to vacate the possible raillery of those who balk at time’s chosen serpentine tracks because of limited pedagogical tracts

So lets solder a forceful brunt against the senseless regalia of modern omphalos and return to the plenipotentiary fields of resourceful human inquiry into the chagrins outmoded by convenience but amplified in vociferation by the prosthetic extension of a grangull humanity outfoxing itself into a zugzwang inevitable in the future with collateral losses because of senseless invidiousness orchestrated by the immiscible dermatology of divisive facts often about race and ineluctable tax

We conclude with the optimism that refineries become gentrified by the superlunary squadrons who bask in beatific beams of anonymity and that the pollution preceding our evolution is just adventitious rather than central to the amelioration of wavy screens ennobling so many upstarts to teach themselves the majesty of lucid dreams and to capitalize on ludic ideals divorced from the urchins of radical idealisms that ironically poach rarefied air with smug pollution of narrative scares

Without trepidation we can muster the largesse of civility to create a progeny that has a recursive progeny of heirs that defiantly imagine a world bereft of specters of the soporific imagination enforced by the lapidation of insight from termagants who stride with ursine acrimony naked bare and envision a global meliorism that is careful, picaresque, pragmatic and filled with meritocratic care

With those ornaments of an aureate measure in mind


We leap beyond the enumerated infinity in time's proper design

the months i lost my voice became a pattern of days filled with dreamless sleep and nights wishing for nicotine stained fingers and red lipstick kissed cups.

i held words on the tip of my tongue, fading into smoke the second they escaped the bitter confines of water drowned inked pages.

the months i lost my voice the nights seemed quiet, frozen in time as my eyes were blinded with the aching only poets can ache.

i held back words that came out in sounds and tears, screaming shouting, the sounds of glass breaking from inside a soundproofed room with only madness for company.

the months i lost my voice, my mind became a boat in an ocean of words, and the days gone in the blink of an eye.

There is a cage deep inside me
There I hide my madness for you
It’s locked and also soundproofed
so your songs wouldn’t reach me

There is a cage deep inside covered
                                                    in lie
There I keep my foolish dreams
and it rattles when I see you smile

My mind’s checking in to checking out,
I’ve decided I don’t want to know what the ending’s about.
I’m tired of gaining wrinkles under my sunken eyes,
and I’m sick of grey hairs and done with grey skies.

The skeletons are stacked and toppling out from my closet,
the space is barely enough for the ones born in the past ten years.
They tap and they rap and even try to claw it
but I’ve soundproofed the walls and even plugged my ears.
The gasoline has been splashed on the ground,
and I’m buying matches by the pound.

I’ve got a war campaign between my heart and my head,
bleach doesn’t clean the stain from the mass of bloodshed.
I’m tired of holding my tongue and hiding a quivering lip,
and I’m ignoring all those who tell me to “just get a grip.”

The demons are pushing their way out from under my floorboards,
They’ve always cracked but now they also screech.
I search in hope for some rope but only find extensions cords,
and even then they’re fully used or slightly out of reach.
The gasoline has been splashed on the ground,
and I’m buying matches by the pound.

I guess this would be my goodbye
but absolutely nothing about it is good.
Let us not pretend to cry,
but admit I made it further than I should.
There’s a certain strength in keeping your eyes open;
a certain strength that I just lack,
skip all the words, they don’t need to be spoken
just please let me sleep in a place that’s forever pitch black.

I built a cage around myself
I built a cage made of self doubt
I built a key to open it
I locked it quick in panic
I threw the key as I was losing it
I soundproofed it so you wouldn't have to deal with me
Now I scream and cry
But you don't hear it
These cries for help don't reach you
I built a cage around myself
And all it caused was loneliness

I got my first guitar when I was 10 years old.
It was a navy blue Ibanez from guitar center.
It was used and when I played it
It sounded like a shriek more than anything of music, but it was mine.
I’ll never forget the first time I sat in a soundproofed room at that music school
With Jimi Hendrix posters on the wall, playing the riff of “Satisfaction" by The Rolling Stones completely off beat
and thinking to myself that I had found magic.
Back then, metal strings still made my fingers bleed
and I used to forget song formats and my rhythm was horrible no matter how often I used a metronome.

My second guitar was a matte black Jackson with a sharp headstock.
I drew flowers on it with a white sharpie and took out springs in the back
Which made the bridge float until it was almost unplayable.
But I didn’t notice and I didn’t care because it was mine and
I still played with my eyes closed and sang off key
I used to scream the lyrics to Green Day songs and I felt like I knew who I was
I used to be unafraid and though
Posters on the walls were replaced, white walls were painted dark gray somehow that school still felt like home
With music blaring through practice rooms

I think I’m always going to miss the sound of music
Not professional, produced
Not crisp and clean, but raw music played by teenagers who could eat 6 boxes of pizza in 20 minutes.
I remember walking in the rain to the CVS across the street
Joking and laughing
I remember growing up with friends that became a family

My third guitar was a Fender Stratocaster, sea foam green.
I bought it used and the fretboard is chipped but its mine.
Now my hair is its natural, bleak dark brown and I prefer indie to hard rock but I am still me.
And I don’t think I’ll ever become the musician I once wanted to be
But I know that music is seared into my soul
And that’s the only thing that hasn’t changed.

muffled melody
symphony of crystalline angel screams
glorious crescendo
inhale
as the world is soundproofed
and sanitized
by powdered eiderdown

I am a guitar string.
I vibrate,
And oscillate
To the tune of brain chemistry
And self-caused travesty.
But all in a soundproofed room
Where the waves can't get through.

Or perhaps I'm a shoelace.
I am worn,
And torn
By walking
And falling.
But on the shoes of me
That tread where others don't see.

Maybe I'm thread.
I am overlooked
And caught on a hook
By me, who I clothe
And also loathe.
But I am sometimes noticed,
Only when I seem broken.

I could be cable.
I am insulated,
And in a tangled state
By design,
To stay online.
But my insides can hurt,
With malice I flirt.

What if I'm a line of code?
I dictate,
And equate,
For those who request
I am put to the test.
But I'm in need of an update,
Otherwise I'll break.

A string I might be,
But I couldn't care less
As long as I have some utility.

stones that never roll
cannot make a music beat
soundproofed by the moss

smiling you keep me in soundproofed closets and you
know that where you left me is exactly where
you'll find me again tomorrow night because I'm
still on my knees with my face in your ***** laundry inhaling you like a drug,
feral and half-dressed, having
draped every bedsheet I could
tear down from your shelves over the mirror, and
when you

come back I'll have scratched out every divine marking on my
body so you can grip my legs in the crooks of your elbows without guilt-- (you wouldn't even
need that, would you, but I'll have
done it anyway) and I'll
close my eyes and ***** your words into my
eardrums diluting my cranial fluid with animal pleasure blackening
the whites of my eyes and turning my extremities gangrene until
all I feel is your tongue, and

early Sunday morning you'll leave me crumpled, not
breathing, in puddles
on the hardwood, close the
door and
slip quietly into
bed with your wife, and, yes, it's wrong but you're
depraved, spoken like an exoneration because you’re already
******* the judge, and she’ll be
on her knees on Monday like an addict,
tying your underwear into a noose