Monday, September 28, 2009

lite up your cigarette and give me a smile

angel of mine, oh sinner of mine.

lite up your cigarette and give me your arm

it's too cold outside, arch angel of mine

lite up your cigarette don't dare let me try

oh guard dog of mine, oh sinner of mine.

watch the smoke curl up and over again so fearful and curious

i wish i was it.

lite up you cigarette and send up my prayers

i don't know who they go to but they are all yours.

Lite up your cigarette and listen my dear,

can you hear them wisper of the air around our heads.

Oh my dear, it see the light in you eyes.

Oh my dear, it can feel the lightness of care.

Oh my dear... i am telling a story and it's all about sitting and feeling like things just might

change but i will have you my dear, my angel my sinner my dream and my dreamer

sit with me dont' write about me don't tell about me

just sit with me and talk with me if you ahppen to make me laugh

oh my dear it see us the smoke as it flies even farhter becoming the rest of the sky

can you see it my love my angel my sinner can you see it and breathe it.

I'm cold my dear, don't go my dear, not ever.

Just sit here and talk with me and i'll make you laugh if i can.

For Future Referance I didn't Write This. I Am Not Quite That Awesome.

A man is the history of his breaths and thoughts, acts, atoms and wounds, love,

indifference and dislike; also of his race and nation, the soil that fed him and his

forebears, the stones and sands of his familiar places, long-silenced battles and

struggles of conscience, of the smiles of girls and the slow utterance of old

women, of accidents and the gradual action of inexorable law, of all this and

something else too, a single flame which in every way obeys the laws that

pertain to Fire itself, and yet is lit and put out from one moment to the next, and

can never be relumed in the whole waste of time to come.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Life and death

Alex Grey

You are selfish. If you do not wish to share your works and if you truly wish to fine someone 150,000 dollars for downloading your beautiful works off of google without any knowledge of the copyright laws then you are a phony. Your art almost preaches to the souls of so many who have been on that trip as you have taken it and yet you are not even willing to come to the realization that once you have created something, image, music, video, it is no longer yours! yes you have the right that your work does not get stolen, but once it is on the world wide web, why punish those who are lucky enough to have seen your visions as you have. Sharing is Caring mister Grey. I for one am a fan of your work. I would enjoy it as inspiration if you wouldn't fine me for doing so. Guess what mister Grey. you can't stop it. it's in the very threads that float around my fingers for me to pluck and weave how ever i see fit. Watch me and maybe someday you can have a piece of mine to download. I would never fine you, nor any one else.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

This is not to be born

I cannot reach out and touch you
when i don't know if you will touch back.
I cannot kiss your forehead
if i don't know if you feel it as fire or ice.
I wish i could use a different word.
It doesn't sound fierce enough.
Fierce and deadly.
Slippery slopes.
Calm the waters.
Bring me back a sea horse if you ever leave for the sea.

This is not to be born.
A long time ago in a land far away was a dream and a dreamer.
The dream was alive, the dreamer was not.
The dream was a new kind of love.
Dreamer looked off and watched the dream as she danced
Dreamer wished for the world of the dream.
She twirled and the sun rose from the east.

This is not to be born.
The dreamer did not know that he was the dream's dream and
she the dreamer.
The sun rose as he walked with her talking and watching over her.
The sun set with him in her arms.

This is not to be born.
Knowing you will be caused pain
is not the same as inflicting it upon yourself.
Thank-god for i should have broken my own heart infinitely so.
Asking for one moment and one here to live in is selfish,
but accepting to live here for just that moment in that moment is the world.

This is not to be born.
I am now offered the world and the world's moments.
I am offered to live free and in love.
Freedom of thought is so misleading.
I am free to think as much and of what i want.
Freedom to love is something no one can take away from you but yourself.
Freedom to love can only be granted by you as well.
I wish i could teach love.
its so much simpler.
But its not simple when you wont let it happen.

This is not to be born.
You watch him sleep.
You want him to stay.
You shy from the sound of the words,
but hun they are so loud.
They scream at me!
Open!! They cry please just open!
It doesn't matter to us if it's not held...
Please, love cries, open...

It is not to be born
that we love not one another.
It is not to be born
that we strive to bring pain.
It is not to be born
that we gain new fathers and mothers.
It is not to be born that we are new from ourselves.
But when you love...

You must love as though wilt.
Never backward,
Never forward.
Love is the cool sea between.
Take a trip to the ocean,
but bring me back a sea-horse.