Untitled Document

CLEAR

Untitled Document

Garbs Of The Street

Waiting for happiness.

Fear The Jungle

Dance With Me Celts

Remember Me Happy

Ode To You 'Above'

Crack and Cycle Again

I Dream American, I Dream Big

A Gentle Lapping

Amidst The Moon

Anything's Better

Ready For Attack

The Stump of a Young Tree

Un-Suspecting Love

What Does Distortion Create

Dont Touch Anything

These Shutters Are Getting Old

A Form of Neurosis

Opening the Lilies

Member or Guest

Someday They Will Be Grown

Short of Discovery

Synopsis of Trees

Trolling the Isle

Pompous Observations

Trouble With The Looking Glass

Bricks and Mortar

We The Living [Sacrificial Lambs]

The Halo and the Coconut

Grasps Of Bloodshed

What I Have To Do

The Rise in Fall Woolly Bear Caterpillars

Crap Shoot / Wall Climb

There Was But One Monkey

There You Stand

Stop! Spontaneous

The Final Whisper

Turning Nothing Into A Dream

Swat Team Manifesto

Cut Throat Curiosity

Everything's Different

Dungy Rooms and Dark Alleys

The Whole Goddamn Fort Went Down

Assumptions Closing In On Me

High Up in the Mountain Tops

poem id SELECT * FROM poems WHERE poem_id = '49'

DATE		Display		Priority
Title
Body	I grab for the steely blade and say "Hey, it's better than being the victim." I twist harder and look for something to pick-a-part. I grab hold with conviction. As i twist the knife it transforms. to an integrated enterprise wide solution. the business of bringing the people what they truly want: a problem without resolution. I have a cell phone but nothing to call true life. gold and silver foil facades decorating shirts with old and new logos call towards the style of the new Gods. so here i stand with the knife in hand not regretful but sending out a pity prayer for my lost voice. but i grab the boot strap rap and sing to the stars to let me see another layer.
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