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[07 Jun 2006|05:58pm] |
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so, this place has been dead. who has any ideas to liven it up? or shall antipop_ call it quits?
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[24 May 2006|11:34am] |
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there's a man who stands on the other side of the ocean
he stands there with the largest sorrow within his eyes that set on me
there's a man who stands on the edge of the world,
endlessly waiting it seems.
i am sitting on a boat,
the ocean leaves me unsettled and almost with a sick feeling.
the roof of my mouth seems almost sticky
it's where my words lay like a flies would
there's a man sitting on the other side of the ocean
and he waits for me
i send bottled messages to him
but he never receives them
that or they never reach him
we've been watching each other,
my paddles have fallen to the ocean floor
there's no one on his island, on that land of his
so we wait for the wind to blow me nearer
or for the earth to grow wider
there's a man who stands at the edge of the world
at the end of the ocean and he waits for me
i cut paper shaped hearts so he can have them
but he never receives them
or he never sees them
but once you love
you must lose it
for the ocean is unforgiving and it swallows it all
there's a man on the end of the ocean
but now he waits for no one it seems
as i drown into the sea with the rest of my love.
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[22 May 2006|09:07am] |
The skin between your eyes I wish to kiss
to the bridge of your nose until your head
tilts to the side as you look at me
This might be a love song to you
but don't take it to heart,
just look and kiss my mouth with words
I am deviant, far more when you know, darling
But you make me to renew all the vows I took of life
with the blade of the moon hanging on my lips
you call a smile.
A curl, a smile, a smirk that knows more then it likes to reveal
So, can I kiss you?
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[16 May 2006|07:07am] |
After a while, I feel so dizzy I can't feel my fingertips glazing over my skin
I keep feeling the pressure placed on my hips
and then the pressure settled onto my brain
I know it isn't fair for neither but embers come from your eyes
they were never to be blue like ice as you wished them to be
like the cold of your throat
when you speak with a dry tone that doesn't say a thing
no one emotion draws out from it
The only thing that reminds me of the embers of your eyes
is the charcoal on your fingertips, drawn to the papers of your
sketchbook pages
After I while, I feel so dizzy I can't remember how your name
use to roll off my tongue
I keep feeling the pressure on the temples of my head,
which is tilted forward to look at the ground at the mention of you
I wish I was so lucky, to be like you
if talents grew from trees, as a child you must have eaten all it's baring fruits
and swallowed down it's seeds too
I know it isn't fair for neither but the embers always fall
and I press them against my skin with my thumb
After a while, I am just a memory in a sketchbook.
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| mouse trap |
[07 May 2006|10:11am] |
tonight is inexplicably clean
as one climbs into the sheets alone
scattering like a rat
away from the mouse trap
what i wouldn't give
to eat out of your hand
right now
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| on the roofs of strangers |
[03 May 2006|05:03pm] |
rooftops and sidewalks
high and low ground
a perfect destination
to wander young love
like the last calls
before sun sets
and sets in
to an endless,
peaceful night
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[03 May 2006|02:00pm] |
When I think of you, I think of choking on the sand while trying to devour the sea in whole into my belly. When I think of you all I can feel is sadness for your mistakes. Your head is vacant but yet it carries all this weight. Your mouth opens wide to say things you have no right to say. Your body is driftwood, floating all over the place.
When I think of you I feel like throwing up the sand within my belly. The particles of time that I will never get back, the tiny rocks represent seconds of minutes, of hours of days I cannot get back.
Your mouth opens wide to speak but all that comes is echoes of insecurity you try to play out like nothing. You stand there, arms out like some kind of sacrifice.
The particles of time I will not get back. Tiny little rocks we call sand present seconds of minutes, hours of days I could never get back. Your head is vacant ready to bring on the weight, your heart is only half full, half empty with nothing to beat for.
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[02 May 2006|12:07am] |
When I think of your mouth my limbs go into a pins and needles sensation
as if they were in a deep sleep
When I think of your lips brushes over mine I think of eyes closing in slow motion
The more I think
The more I am consumed that I could love you
The more I think of it
The more I want you to be my music
The more I believe it you could be a muse
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[30 Apr 2006|01:36pm] |
Every word strikes like a match in my head
burning down the stick up until my fingertips, my tender fingertips
burning them with the flame
I want to burn each side of the candle stick
Let the wax burn into nothing it possible and for you to encourage me
for whatever you say it coming
Every word strikes on match to inhale such a strong sent into my nostrils
I want to feel the licking flame that burns my fingertips, my tender fingertips
as I let each word burn down the sentences, the very sentences you say
I want to burn each side of the candle stick
I want to fall into this tiny little fires you've come to create
within my brain
Burning down the sentences that burn until my fingertips, my tender fingertips
Creating tiny fires,
Tiny sparks of fire
Every sentence, every word you say.
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[28 Apr 2006|11:41am] |
Feet march down in rhythm and in heat
We only have a few seconds to spare
We only have so much to save but this is necessary
Our mouths shout out for the future
Our lips motion out and pronounce
If only you can see the damage, empty school yards soon enough
Empty parking lots and we're going down
We march
We march
We move trying to protect what we know
We march
We march
But we could lose and expect the solid forms of our worlds to stop
our mouths shout out
lips motion and pronounce
We march
We march
We try to fight, arms warm from the sun
We march.
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