ripple effect

Why do the sounds make their own emotions,
ripple effect and creeping notions?
Who gave them personality, and riddled these notes
with sorrow, sadness, and grieving

Who took the noise and made it into song,
my voice stands unclean in a sea
of salty tears and breaking glass bottles and
brevity never seemed so subtle before

And who made beautiful into bittersweet syllables,
like you know that beauty entails more than sight
it takes a part all of your senses
smell, touch, and hearing

So I ask, why do the sounds make their own emotions,
like there aren’t enough feelings already going around
and who decided that this beauty would
forever be crisply coating my insides
all of my organs are laced with faint sorrow
derived from the beautiful, that is tart on its own now

When will my words ever make sense,
cohesive. together, and lacking mess
I’ve made a mess of all emotion
taking hope and smothering it in reality
taking love and wrapping it in sanity

When I make my love into a monument
will you stand tall to reach the top of it
when I make my heart irrelevant
will you be there to grab a hold of it

MonumentSketch

american dream

AMERICAN DREAMout six dollars and in with the nurture
of a bad habit and a set back
out a conversation and in with the appropriate
regret of too many words, too many things said

but it sure is great how I now know not to expect
but it sure is wonderful how I’ve come to terms with my irrational thoughts,
taken out of context

pen and ink can’t conquer this thing
gone with my judgment
gone with my greed
gone with my selfishness
gone with my needs

sorrow and a sore heart lead to growing frequencies
concerned with the future but now I look at my heart
see it separated by willful decisions and longing and art

I’ll begin with my troubled mind my troubled
faith
and end with my hopeful heart
my endangered fate

I choose to speak with ambiguities
glad to take my situation and throw it to the sea
it’s not great or wonderful at all,
not satisfied nor content
not decided nor specified
just spent, spent, spent

said I’m worn out! save me from this
endless reach for serenity and peace
said I’m finished! surrender all I am
all I have and have not been

american dream
beneath a tucked in moon
american dream
dig in, grab a spoon

child

in the face of a child
i find myself helpless
confronted by innocence, and she shows me how tainted
i have let me life become
tainted by selfishness and anxiety
by heartbreak and relationship,
i find myself complex and irritated
but in the face of a child
i am shown that this life still has something to offer
and by the grace of god that all of the grown have somehow forgotten
we are free.
i am hurt by disbelief
i am broken by sorrow
i am twisted by change,
she tells me a secret
and i will never forget it,
knowing that every whisper holds a truth,
and that in the face of a child
i can find purpose,
confronted by innocence
i will shake this stain and bitterness