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Literature Text
How many times
have I stepped to the edge
opting for that dreamer's
leap of faith?
As if my landing
would somehow cure my woes,
without leaving behind
the taste of gasoline.
Forever searching
like a fool in the dark
seeking a dream
I have not dreamt;
Searching for something
that may truly be nothing,
trying to fill spaces
between.
Lost without destination;
missing without pieces; I am
aimlessly discontent.
I wonder what you see
when you look to me
through open windows,
when all I see in the mirror
is a mess.
So where's my diagnosis?
Surely they've created a disorder for this,
something with a cure
to set this heart free.
That'll be forty-nine ninety-five, sir.
Here's your medication;
have yourself
a nice dream.
have I stepped to the edge
opting for that dreamer's
leap of faith?
As if my landing
would somehow cure my woes,
without leaving behind
the taste of gasoline.
Forever searching
like a fool in the dark
seeking a dream
I have not dreamt;
Searching for something
that may truly be nothing,
trying to fill spaces
between.
Lost without destination;
missing without pieces; I am
aimlessly discontent.
I wonder what you see
when you look to me
through open windows,
when all I see in the mirror
is a mess.
So where's my diagnosis?
Surely they've created a disorder for this,
something with a cure
to set this heart free.
That'll be forty-nine ninety-five, sir.
Here's your medication;
have yourself
a nice dream.
Literature
Birdtalk
I know that the Starman will be waiting in the sky, but
I don't think about it under these fluorescent lights
I remember when Wal-Mart wasn't a hospital, the world
wasn't a graveyard, and my spine wasn't ripped out
Didn't the birds used to talk? I seem to remember that
Literature
What do you see?
there are things you cannot see
while your eyes are open
I learned this lying in the grass
there are things we don't see
with our eyes wide open
I learned this sitting at your feet
there are truths we don't recognize
that stare us in the face
I realized this
when
you
walked
away
some things shouldn't be taught
some things can't be unlearned
I discovered this (when I remembered)
to
believe
in
me
Literature
if you listen you can hear it
I believe that there is something more tender than
even the rain, as its bloated tendrils
corrupt the soil and draw things forth
(be still and look at the lilies, lilies)
and more brilliant than muttered oaths, than
slimy fingers searching twistingly
for salvation (like blind worms)
in the folds of another stranger's skirt
and every insect that has probing ears
can listen for the silent,
insane screaming
(I love you)
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Comments45
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I love the line: 'Lost without destination;/ missing without pieces', it really creates a feeling of helplessness. I also really like the way you've isolated the very last line from the rest of the piece. 