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The Postal Service - We Will Become Silhouettes

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Thursday, January 26, 2006
The Great Ship

Read this: its crazy and prolific and about death. could you guess?

The powdery blue breeze is shifting away
beginning the morning this wondrous new day
though not so new for a special few
whom have seen this all before

Watch the flame flickering coldly alone
in the comforting warmth of a beautiful home
when night swallows an innocent light
there are greater things in store

There's a clearing in the fog
the harbormaster shifts from a walk to a jog
do not fear for salvation is near
what a sunrise we the waiting adore

Once a simple old pleasure
broods an ominously dark weather
hold the hand as it trembles
the great ship pulls to shore

 


Posted at 09:48 pm by theboyinblue
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Sunday, January 08, 2006
Ominous Daze

A wafting spray descends upon this day
with no light above to follow night
the ground absorbs without a sound
horizon bearing such a frown,
the taste of that which plays
a somber tune, a quiet fright

The sparrows' flight without delight
how it shows a crooked nose
displays a face of cold disgrace 
a tumor where the heart should race
I shudder when I hear the air
crackle as the wind blows

another attempt at something poe.


Posted at 05:13 pm by theboyinblue
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Thursday, December 22, 2005
The Absolute Position (ROAR!)

<<<i thought at one point: once you had a significant other your problems were mostly over. man, was i way off. if anything, they create more problems, though i am deeply in love with this woman, she is a royal pain sometimes. take today for instance: her dad (parents are separated) came over, and when he comes over he mostly announces it while on the cell and when he has something he needs to be done or said.  so she gets irritible everytime he comes over--he was an hour late today---on top of a days worth of shopping at crazy washington square mall---and then she grants me the role of anger's scapegoat. not nice at all. so she says shes irky and i can easily hear it in her voice and shes going on about it. i tell her im sorry shes feeling that way and i wish i could help. then she says im not doing anything to help, as if in the position of boyfriend i could do anything but say, "dad, you really shouldnt be a dick to her." ROAR!>>>

<<on the other hand however, i have a poem for the public----if there is any. wrote a while back, when my parents almost split, and i was going insane with school and work and shite.

Ascend a tower made of stone,

gazing over gulls

slowly soaring home

 

I cannot refrain in thinking:

The contentment I will find

when my ocean eyes cease blinking

 

Smoky cirrus encircling

my screaming soul

A fire overtakes

embedding ash,

engraving pain

 

Violent contortions of a heart

seizing as it bleeds

I tear the twisting muscle out

it asks to be set free

 

At a loss of voluntary movement

A stream of tragedy:

I watch myself,

he cries in pain

My dark disease

 

The flesh pulls tight

among a candle's dimming flame

its dying light

 

Clutching my chest

I stagger to the family crest

a royal lion spews jagged ice not flame

I must admit the cool breath

feels quite cool, quite tame

 


Posted at 08:57 pm by theboyinblue
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Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Wandering Man

today kinda sucked major ass.  i had a good lunch: homemade spicy sandwich with a bowl of clam chowder and oyster crackers, my fav. then i began working on my short story again...at about 1. and did so until 230, at which time my bro says his Honda CRX is fucked and we need to go down to the tire center.  they say his axle is screwed and his tire is gonna fall off(??). so we sit there for about two hours, bsing. Angry i read 2 unimpressive auto marts. woopity doo. anyway----im finally home----oh wait, theres more. we then followed the tow truck to the honda dealership, filled papers, then came home. so overall i got a good...page written. at this rate ill write a novel by the time i croak. have a wonderful evening and enjoy this dylanesque poem i wrote a while back.

 Insight calls from the whisper of a man

sitting curbside with bags full of cans,

living coldly in the street.

He asks What material then lays beneath my old feet?

 

 The vagabond rips me from out of my seat,

forcing my skull to the ground

It ain't broken concrete, you son of a bitch

This is what's caused me to become so deranged.

 

 The family stopped sending letters,

the authorities continue to send me away

They call me a criminal

yet I've nowhere to stay;

 

 I ride through these valleys

up on over those hills

drowning sorrow after another

with cheap beer and donated pills.

 

 How callous, the cruelty imposed

upon those without homes,

hardly thriving on thought alone

without the love of our wives

force fed with pity, with evil glares

we might have been able to survive

if only for a short, sweet time.

 


Posted at 06:36 pm by theboyinblue
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Saturday, December 17, 2005
Glow

so i was sitting in church one day, sunday actually, as they were decorating. like most sundays the light was filtering through the stained glass windows. but unlike many other days, as the temperature was in the 30s, the light was moderately warm. it gave off a certain type of energy, i would call it. the pastor placed the star atop the tree and did so laughing and carefree, and the others were filled with what i perceived as the same warmth, a sort of glowing vibe. hence, i wrote glow. one another note, my job as a lot attendant for capitol honda is working out quite well. washing cars. drying cars. driving cars. eating extremely spicy thai food i didn't pay for. it has its ups. its wicked cold though. like 20. im from florida. 75 was our winter low. good evening...Shocked 

 

Forever more eternal glow

atop the peak of evergreen

A passionately burning beacon

speaking from the mouth of a deity

 

 Cheerful fellows playing

into the light of Sunday morning

The warmth is passing

as far as they can tell

 

 The congregation stands

bass chords erupting in song

One’s thoughts thus dissipate

within the flow of words

 

 Luminous expressions painted

on the faces of villagers

The eternal glow is passing

as far they can tell


Posted at 06:36 pm by theboyinblue
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Thursday, December 15, 2005
Misery

this is my attempt at doing something similar to poe. not structurally, or phonetically, nothing like that. merely the content. spookylike. please let me know what you think. thanks a ton.

 

 

Wicked fate withhold me from the globe

more shadows dwell than eyes can know

The ice drift swells on sky above

while insects graze from far below

 

 A citrus feline in the field

its purr of wisdom thus arrives

Whence time itself can seem surreal

the peace allows my gloom to thrive

 

 One wanders through the sea of black

A raven scowls from steeple high

The feel of something brushing,

some old demon moving in disguise

 

 On end the hairs stand perfectly still

Blood leaves his face, chill in the blood

hurried footsteps: Tap tap Tap tap on the surface

stuffing clammy hands into pockets with a slouch

 

 Laying semi-conscious

beneath the moonlight

Listening at the raven

calling sullenly downward

He doesn’t mean to brew misfortune

it simply accompanies a heavy wing

 


Posted at 01:47 pm by theboyinblue
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Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Mourning Morning

Again the night departs for day                                                                   
blackish mauve thus bleeding blue
the wicked chill breaks golden flesh
as fallen snow a silence smooth

Marbled eyes replicate the sky
peering through gathered steam
warming in a beaming fire
burning brightly
the murderous wind with
its cold intention

Some frightened gang of winged creatures
black pearls moist within their walnut skulls
a hungry outburst piercing shadowed land
scattering as if by detonation,
a shower of objects
tearing across the canvas    

A starving pallid woman making way
her vacant mind says good morning
what unexpected livelihood
half-consciously I retort

Darkened bags dragging
ocean eyes downward,
glistening when death sneers,
a creeping coma of senses
as fallen snow a silence smooth                             
                                    


Posted at 03:56 pm by theboyinblue
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Thursday, December 08, 2005
Heart of Ice

not my average depressive poetry. this was more of a deadening feeling, a cold, numbing sensation...kind of like ice.

A brisk, frightful wind carries crystalized emotion
over a sunny, silent part of town
in the midst of my November

The CATs: dispicably purposed monsters of steel
sinking jagged rusty fingers into the soil
not to sow, but to plant
an illegitimate child of ominous glory:
real estate value

A trio of doe sense danger
reflecting fire in cold marbles of visual sensory,
scatter unlike any other day
as if nature gave warning
with the moaning of
the iron-textured wood

Slick pavement emitting dragon breath beneath the surface
fenceposts crack along a shivering path I follow slowly, coldly
my boggled mind reclines in subtle blinding sunshine
surreal as if acrylic

The bones tremble erratically, tremulously erratic
but I notice not for they have ceased in sensing,
pending a warm, seductive slumber
gradually to overcome,
becoming disturbingly numb

A pin prick deep within the breastplate
warning that morning may soon draw numbers,
the scourning of stresses pressing for one
to make an honest effort to slow down:
realize what type of ground this is.



Posted at 07:19 pm by theboyinblue
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Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Peace Be With Me

After a much too long vacation of remaining invisible and unheard, I have returned to once again post some poetry, a few thoughts, and perhaps some other works.  I hope those of you who browse shall enjoy and return some time soon...Thank you. -Blueboy

 *          *          *          *          *          *         *          *         *

The maple trunk withers with no-one around

A blue jay pecks at the soil without even the slightest of sound

Three doe watch the sun peek from behind a great cape

of legendary moisture billowing,

those massive curtains steaming, streaming

carrying my soul above myself

 

Serenity beams from the heavens,

filtering energy and warming my skin

Shadows linger,

a blanket of gloom engulfing the hills

which lie to the south, to the coast, behind me

nothing expresses itself quite as clearly, plainly:

The audible wind,

Smooth silence of peace on the battlefield

 

The partially present doe:

Flesh, bone, electric impulses controlling her movements

An undying intangible essence soars far from here

an ultimate selfless image:

The world surrounding a pawn,

merely edging across the board

calmly, carelessly sweet

practical nourishment she seeks for survival

 

A gentle ghostly breeze moves the maple limbs so subtly,

a simple shifting of the leaves and its flesh

The source of life granting

the exhalation of its breath,

beaming once again

 

 Shadows fade away

A leaf caught upon a forceful drift,

lifting upward and away

Taking a deep breath inward

then it’s gone. 

 


Posted at 05:44 pm by theboyinblue
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