If someone stops loving you
Are they a different person?
Like seeing home in new places
Sometimes in green
And sometimes in blue
Hard to hang on too
Impossible to grasp
Smoke in the haze
Unlikely to repeat
A painting looks different
Once you get to know the artist
Regretting choices
Dwelling on mistakes
Seeking the tangible
If someone stops loving
Are they different or are you
Home looks different
Sometimes in green
Sometimes in blue
The sun sets everywhere
Touching all our souls
But sometimes it takes longer
When the horizon is no longer in sight
Chemical imbalance between what is wrong
And what feels right
I can almost hear the smirk
A little serious with malice
Looking at life through Poetry. Please leave a comment. Formally E Bat thoughts on life
Slide show
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Embedded within a fantasy
Embedded within a fantasy
As the children try to run and cry
The blood runs red in the morning sky
As her angle plays out in the lie
A profanity of a mercy pass
The music grows strong
The beat mimicking your heart as you run
Words in the lyrics making little sense
A story to some of la glamour
A mercy pass you should have walk by
A face of an angel you wished in twilight
The smile that melted the clouds
As the children run on the hot sand
Playing the games of their future
The music bridges to a guitar solo
Mimicking your heart as it grows
Words of lyrics going silent
The story playing in people’s minds
A living fantasy smiling in your reality
Waking to a bright blood red sky
The children sleeping blissfully
Your daddy’s words tugging at you
There is no mercy in her laughing eyes
The rhythm of the music screams at you
The mimicking in your heart in the beats
Lyrics of words starting to make sense
Stories of heart break to unfold
Reality embedded in this fantasy
As the kid in you tries to run in hide
Blood run red in the morning sky
Your daddy’s words a sailors warning
Played in a siren’s scorning
The voice of the lyrics end without forewarning
The lingering of the beat is left in you
The tone of the music grows in the void of this heart
As the smile breaks in the early morning sun light
A song can end in silence
As the children try to run and cry
The blood runs red in the morning sky
As her angle plays out in the lie
A profanity of a mercy pass
The music grows strong
The beat mimicking your heart as you run
Words in the lyrics making little sense
A story to some of la glamour
A mercy pass you should have walk by
A face of an angel you wished in twilight
The smile that melted the clouds
As the children run on the hot sand
Playing the games of their future
The music bridges to a guitar solo
Mimicking your heart as it grows
Words of lyrics going silent
The story playing in people’s minds
A living fantasy smiling in your reality
Waking to a bright blood red sky
The children sleeping blissfully
Your daddy’s words tugging at you
There is no mercy in her laughing eyes
The rhythm of the music screams at you
The mimicking in your heart in the beats
Lyrics of words starting to make sense
Stories of heart break to unfold
Reality embedded in this fantasy
As the kid in you tries to run in hide
Blood run red in the morning sky
Your daddy’s words a sailors warning
Played in a siren’s scorning
The voice of the lyrics end without forewarning
The lingering of the beat is left in you
The tone of the music grows in the void of this heart
As the smile breaks in the early morning sun light
A song can end in silence
Friday, September 21, 2012
Musical note lingers
A pause as the last note lingers
A song ending about unhappy endings
Image if those ending were somehow happy
And this song was a happy song instead of the sad one
It turned out to be
All those people just being real
Going through the motions of what they could be
The last note of a sad song lingers
A song about happy ending it was never meant to be
All the laughter in a room full of empty lonely people
Is still a room full a laughing people
Even if the laughter distracts them for a song
This song could be happy
If it were meant to be
One about happy ending for once
A pause as the last note lingers
As a cord on the guitar is strum
The voice has already faded
It could have been something else
If you wanted
Her last words I love you
As I turned needing to fade
Because all the trust has gone out of me
A pause in a song of sad ending
Lingers in the air
The silence bridging emptiness
Image if all those unhappy ending
Were something more
With rooms full of joyous people
And their laughter was more than real
Not about scar tissue and broken hearts
A pause in a song about happy ending
Somehow turns the air brittle
As a cord on a guitar is strum
The voice long ago faded
A song about all the happy people
Like a room full of drunk people
With entrance doors and no exits
All those people going through the motions
Of what they thought was real
A song ending about unhappy endings
Image if those ending were somehow happy
And this song was a happy song instead of the sad one
It turned out to be
All those people just being real
Going through the motions of what they could be
The last note of a sad song lingers
A song about happy ending it was never meant to be
All the laughter in a room full of empty lonely people
Is still a room full a laughing people
Even if the laughter distracts them for a song
This song could be happy
If it were meant to be
One about happy ending for once
A pause as the last note lingers
As a cord on the guitar is strum
The voice has already faded
It could have been something else
If you wanted
Her last words I love you
As I turned needing to fade
Because all the trust has gone out of me
A pause in a song of sad ending
Lingers in the air
The silence bridging emptiness
Image if all those unhappy ending
Were something more
With rooms full of joyous people
And their laughter was more than real
Not about scar tissue and broken hearts
A pause in a song about happy ending
Somehow turns the air brittle
As a cord on a guitar is strum
The voice long ago faded
A song about all the happy people
Like a room full of drunk people
With entrance doors and no exits
All those people going through the motions
Of what they thought was real
Monday, September 17, 2012
Stylized Perfection
Stylized perfection
A human fantasy
A paradox of desire
A devise to subjectify reality
Factious gods with a righteous pen
Anonymous hypnotic stare
That seems to hold you there
Captured and unable to break free
Aroma of every day
Driving your mind back in time
As the clock chimes
At table designed for two
Single in a couple’s world
Eiffel tower a shadow in the foreground
Foreshadowing the future
A device in Literature
Articulating the art of observation
Sitting in crowed coffee bar
On a street in isolation
The colors blending from fall to summer
From spring to winter and back again
Sitting in one spot
As the world walks be
The Eiffel tower a gigantic sun dial
Standing up and starching
A simple break from the mundane
The ice melting as the leaves turn and fall
Another year gone without fail
Perfection stylized in grey pastels
A human fantasy by numbers
The paradox a distortion of desires
A devise created to subjectify the here and now
Factious writing about virtuous deities
A stare hypnotic on an anonymous face
That holds you captured in one place
A statue suspend high of the ground
The aroma lingers of yesterdays
As the clock chimes counting backwards in time
From grown man to child burning in the womb
At table designed for two
A human fantasy
A paradox of desire
A devise to subjectify reality
Factious gods with a righteous pen
Anonymous hypnotic stare
That seems to hold you there
Captured and unable to break free
Aroma of every day
Driving your mind back in time
As the clock chimes
At table designed for two
Single in a couple’s world
Eiffel tower a shadow in the foreground
Foreshadowing the future
A device in Literature
Articulating the art of observation
Sitting in crowed coffee bar
On a street in isolation
The colors blending from fall to summer
From spring to winter and back again
Sitting in one spot
As the world walks be
The Eiffel tower a gigantic sun dial
Standing up and starching
A simple break from the mundane
The ice melting as the leaves turn and fall
Another year gone without fail
Perfection stylized in grey pastels
A human fantasy by numbers
The paradox a distortion of desires
A devise created to subjectify the here and now
Factious writing about virtuous deities
A stare hypnotic on an anonymous face
That holds you captured in one place
A statue suspend high of the ground
The aroma lingers of yesterdays
As the clock chimes counting backwards in time
From grown man to child burning in the womb
At table designed for two
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Does it matter
Would it matter?
With whom and when
Where and why
If they truly owned yours
Would it matter?
What they did to whom
Where and when
If they owned your chest
Left you by the phone
Waiting on stand by
Greeting you with a smile
As the walls crush you with in
Would it matter?
With who, and when
Where and why
If they truly owned yours
Would it matter?
What they did to whom
Why and where
A smile that makes your heart beat
Throbbing to its beat
A rhythm as the walls crushes you within
Their fingers playing the strings of that heart
A bridge to a song long gone dead
Thursday, September 13, 2012
August clouds
August clouds covered in bitterness
Written in the actions of a July bliss
People fade in with their lies
A rollercoaster ride of artificial pride
The pleasure of a sun burn tan
Your own cells cancerous and blind
Eating you from within
Walking on crispy ground
Artificial footsteps leaving prints
On the over growing sands of time
A snap shot in a Norman Rockwell painting
Like a Doctor and a Priest in a smock
Talking on the dotted line
The clouds of bitterness
Fade in and out with morphine bliss
Hiding on a medical fairground ride
A metaphor of the hideous
Translating an artificial ride
Reproduction synthetic empathy
All a snapshot of open heart surgery
On this table of humanity
Man made empathic harmony
The fear of the honest man
On the Eve of paradise
Because they say everyone lies
Searching for artificial bliss
Obsessed with adrenaline
A drug to run and hide
Or stand and be counted on
A fixated fear of dishonesty
August clouds covered in brittleness
As life changes in the colours of a painting
Growing to embrace the flavors of this simple fate
A reproduction of the little to late
Some of the smiles you see are real
With that one must walk away from hate
The boy sits in the table waiting for the Doctor
With the eyes of forbidding
A checkup from a white smock in detail
The papers on the wall saying it okay
The boy waiting more than to be a voodoo doll
Walking on crispy ground
Artificial footsteps leaving foot prints
August clouds covered in bitterness
A rollercoaster ride of the hideous
As the animals come to eat what is left
With that one must walk away from hate
Embrace to speculate quality memories
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
the pause
In between heart beats
On the edge of consciousness
Were eulogies are written
Kaleidoscope of broken yesterdays
The ghosts of the living
Their voices condescending
In the pause between heartbeats
Gravity is a certainty
Requiem silence echoes
Idealist’s pessimism
Peculiar jaunty mannerism
In the pause between heartbeats
Windmills tilt and all the sunflowers stare
The sun kicks up a flare
In a way saying I am lonely
All the other stars just tickle
The distance to great to care
In that pause between life and death
The world looks and takes a breathe
All the roots are severed
As the trees fall past the tower
Obelisk stuck in another time
On the edge of consciousness
Were eulogies are written
Kaleidoscope of broken yesterdays
The ghosts of the living
Their voices condescending
In the pause between heartbeats
Gravity is a certainty
Requiem silence echoes
Idealist’s pessimism
Peculiar jaunty mannerism
In the pause between heartbeats
Windmills tilt and all the sunflowers stare
The sun kicks up a flare
In a way saying I am lonely
All the other stars just tickle
The distance to great to care
In that pause between life and death
The world looks and takes a breathe
All the roots are severed
As the trees fall past the tower
Obelisk stuck in another time
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Steam billows
Steam billows
The air is humid
Standing there
In s quivering stillness
Mechanical quality images
Flash in slow motion
Tethering yesterdays and tomorrows
The mooring lines drifting in a haze
Unchanged inside
The beating of a simple heart
Sounding like the wings of bird
Fluttering against the bars of this cage
Rain drops leave patterns in the dust
An atavistic world
Fluttering like dragonflies
In a silvery moonlight
Waiting on the edge of hope
Mannequins competing
In a sadist person context
Frozen in a melancholy bliss
Pontification that of this lesson
Lives littered by betrayal
Superficial damage burning deep
Contours of the toxic
Breathed in like oxygen
Reptilian mannerism of a faked smile
Promoted in this culture of deniability
Viral the damaged
The cost of a paid in full pessimist
Stoic laughter of self pity
Lugubrious in its cheerful sound
Fearing the end
is so much better
than fearing living
Saturday, September 1, 2012
The vanity of my religion
The vanity of my religion
Here comes the rain
So thick old men can chew
In a fire fog of nothing new
Grinding ideas by the divine
Alacrity oppressive monarchy
Free market democracy value
Till the people cry
The morality of barking dogs
A commodity to be sold
Lawyers slamming the gavel down
Their words flow in a current of syrup
Integrity an honesty needing a pill
The vanity of my religion
Feeling refreshed in the rain
Draped in the syrupy words of integrity
A fog repackaged by fire
Eating breakfast with a judge
Who swears she was an honesty lawyer
Democracy has a market value
Many faces depending on desire
The commodity of morality
Was that judges name Satino?
Justifying inequality
And disproportional disparity
Here comes the rain
So thick old men can chew
In a fire fog of nothing new
Grinding ideas by the divine
Alacrity oppressive monarchy
Free market democracy value
Till the people cry
The morality of barking dogs
A commodity to be sold
Lawyers slamming the gavel down
Their words flow in a current of syrup
Integrity an honesty needing a pill
The vanity of my religion
Feeling refreshed in the rain
Draped in the syrupy words of integrity
A fog repackaged by fire
Eating breakfast with a judge
Who swears she was an honesty lawyer
Democracy has a market value
Many faces depending on desire
The commodity of morality
Was that judges name Satino?
Justifying inequality
And disproportional disparity
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