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Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
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the valley lights flicker
they seem so far away tyler
but your eyes have never done the same
you bring me to the mountains tyler
you close the widening space
you help the silence speak tyler
when you grin and touch my face
there is a glow in the words you say tyler
there was a wind that night you stayed
One day I'll write words to the sound of your heart beat tyler
One day I'll write songs to your rhythm, boy.
One day I'll write words to the sound of your heart beat tyler
One day, one day..
oh your veins drip a good man's blood tyler
your joy keeps you warm in the snow
it keeps color in you lips
while you smile like love told
you are wonderful
you are wonderful
on my ride home I feel all of the sprinklers, tyler
or maybe its misty rain
coming in off of the mountains only miles away
in my mind i can picture your face
smiling away at me smiling away
smiling away at me smiling away
smiling away at me smiling away
there is a glow in the words you say tyler
there was a wind that night you stayed
One day I'll write words to the sound of your heart beat tyler
One day I'll write songs to your rhythm, boy.
One day I'll write words to the sound of your heart beat tyler
One day, one day..
oh the lights of the valley are hazy tonight
they sparkle and twinkle and fade
with every story you tell you speak words that ignite
a gentle way through life's tall flames
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Friday, January 4th, 2008
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There are times when I come and go
I guess we all grow
but I'd pass with the knowledge that
consistency will never change in me
Have I lost words with time?
Have I spent mine blind?
My choices seem like pedals
wilt away with time
scatter to the side
What art mistakes me for it's own
what music stretches me over these thorns?
Wherever does the tick-tocking fly?
Wherever does the tick-tocking fly?
When existence seemed empowering
a secret movie scarcely seen
but felt so deeply in one's veins
I used to be that mystery
and now as I'm living quietly
I wonder where the movie's been
I marvel at this boring scene
I think it's time to forget the green
and get back to being me...
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Monday, October 23rd, 2006
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Monday, October 9th, 2006
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Still my heart and hold my tongue
I feel my time
My time has come
Let me in
Unlock the door
I never felt this way before
And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummer begins to drum
I don’t know which way I’m going
I don’t know which way I’ve come
Hold my head inside your hands
I need someone who understands
I need someone, someone who hears
For you I’ve waited all these years
For you I’d wait till kingdom come
Until my day, my day is done
And say you'll come and set me free
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me
In your tears and in your blood
In your fire and in your flood
I hear you laugh, I heard you sing
I wouldn’t change a single thing
And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummers begin to drum
I don’t know which way I’m going
I don’t know what I’ve become
For you I’d wait till kingdom come
Until my days, my days are done
And say you'll come and set me free
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me
--coldplay--
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Monday, August 14th, 2006
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I wrote this in high school:
Blue windshields seem dizzy but somehow subduing
The sound of the rain is forgiveness and soothing
it's colored like oceans and swimsuits and surfing
Unbreakable stillness
Familiar comfort
Skies worth a movie length of gazing
With their contrasting clouds of white
Friends with the dark azure
Slowly cruising with airplanes red as young ambition
and the idea of pure love
Pure as it's hue
An often dishonest shade of rose
Like the lenses of these glasses
My honesty runs purple riots
Hero's medals to bride's accompaniment
Holding hands with emeralds
Green with riches and mistakes
Something good to something fake
Men will always try to make
Deadly but refreshing gestures
Black and neon lights inviting
The intense metal of a parking meter run out
Sick as a misguided, waving flag
Poison to the mind
But coming back to a bakery of sweetness
Coupled with yellow smiles
Sugared down and made up
With lipstick running from the rain
Slowly hitting the sunroof of a car
Washing away all recollection of muddled thought
All excess color and vague outlines
The water is cold but necessary
And the blue will continue as patience takes over
Clarity arises
We wait for the sun this time
SPEAK TO ME COLOR
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there is a cross on the radio tour
the highway calls
I am roadkill
I am roadkill
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Tuesday, April 18th, 2006
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you'll never look like the maniquine
but the boys still love you
they choose you above all the rest
you always look in american
apperals windows you wish you had those legs
and chest
but when it comes down to it
plastic isnt skin
and when you think about it
you can't love maniquins
when if comes down to it
you're ideals are way too thin
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| Time: | 12:42 am. |
| Mood: |  lonely. |
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What if all the homeless man needs
is freedom from hypocrisy
he'll tell you everything he gets brings him to his knees
Listen to his tallest tale
his eyes sparkle just like the gingerale he's drinking
he'll tell you everything he's thinking
what if every alley cat purred
what if she enjoyed every single thing a man spat at her
what if big city boys spoke with only holy words
she wouldn't feel so bad
she wouldn't have to steal her confidence
and if somebody asked for her to sing
she'd probably come up with the same old thing
Bring me back to a place where the snow is melting
give me faith so I'll stay on the road I'm walking
is there any fresh air left there to breath
If you loose what you've got you won't be forgotten
if you find what you've lost you'll be moving mountains
i don't have what i want, but i've got what i need
if i fall from here, will you follow me and bring me home again
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why is it that we creatures of the light
feel so much safer during night
and all your thoughts and words displayed
invoke no more than my insight
and for the first time, dear
I'm wondering how closely we have touched each other's palms
and why you always looked alarmed
left me to somebody else's charms
and i wrote my name all over all your poetry
i wrote songs in sad response to your idolatry
it's been years and i still wonder sometimes
was it always only meant for my eyes
will it always only be for my eyes
or is your friendless nature only just another fake devise
you swung me during springtime when the petals hit the stones
woven all together, they would draw me far from home
oh night and day and all the hours of labor free of cause
did melt away with honeydew eyes and reasons not to love
i told you first and with thirty reasons denial justified
we'd keep our stolen moments, keep our secrets, keep our pride
so again I wonder, one last time,
if your words were for me and soley mine
or if you had a million silent lovers captivated line by line
oh such a silent emote, dear
until provoked until brought near
oh such a chilling statement, boy
call me "Critique'
but NEVER "Toy"
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Tuesday, March 14th, 2006
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| Time: | 6:00 pm. |
| Mood: |  okay. |
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black birds fly circles around these fields
and at dusk they descend upon red dripping trees
their presence, reflecting a dark history
of rusty tipped pitchforks and democracy
oh but out of these grasses a new type of soldier
is picking up silver coins
placed in the vision of everyone fallen
and the faithful forgotten.
They are slender, they're tall.
They are covered in autumn and
their voices speak of nothing but the comforting words
heard on the edges of drawn-out summer days
in a city ruined by shade
and focused on nothing but getting paid.
What else do these mazes of material invoke
but a depression that can make any man
crave
everything but what he actually needs
to feel fully alive.
So, indulge in these lies
and in the lonely dark fields your body will be tried
and there will come a night
when you will feel the slender soldier's shadow
darker than your absence of sight.
His blue jeans, torn, and his body, tired
he'll pull the nickles from your eyes
so that once the crows land
you will see for the first time and
be able to finally rise.
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Tuesday, February 14th, 2006
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oh but if you were a poet, my understanding would climb to the top of this tower we've built
your vision, instead, rides on the tips of flames forged in your throat
they manifest through the purest of elements
without motion of lips or the typing of keys
so bright and so hot just like pasison should be
though I've tried and I've tried
fire's so hard to read
i am somewhere, on stilts, looking in on low floors
wishing and hopeing to break through the doors
framed in steel made of fiber
transparent and sleek
how impermiable are those whose heart never speaks
your disc is spinning, you are writing your speed
and try over and over
you never catch heed of the horses deep trail
the steed so far and gone
and catch up you will try
untill your days are done
so please put down the lighter
please put down your crown
forget all the technical terms that have grown
so out of control
you are out on a limb
never meant to be swung by
your baseball cap brim has been readjusted
oh so professionally
will you ever slow down, boy...
allow your words to go free?
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Friday, February 10th, 2006
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you make this a
hopeless rendering, my love, my friend,
upon extending yourself, you close faces out
you focus inward instead
on the black
on the dead
for to those who think they are broken
there is nothing left
and broken you are
so you said
The wind around you swirls with sweet scents of flowers and honey
honey put on the bread
I've prepared for you
breakfast
in
bed
and thankless you nod your head
so thankless you nod your head
Survival depends on more than just time
there is truth to all rape
there is life in all crime
there are objects and actions past seeing that darling,
you have to start feeling
or else daily bleeding will only
bleed
you
dry
this mindless self loathing
and ambitious depression
will hover below your strong cement ceilings
and close in on your sleeping
and break into your dreaming
oh, Passion run pure and please heal those alive
so he can define "selfish" and open his eyes.
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Sunday, January 1st, 2006
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(attn: the following letters are lacking in the usual imagery... i was trying something new. the song, itself, SOUNDS great so don't freak out by the poppy lyrics.. and yes, i do still roar a little in it, but only once or twice- just for those of you worried i've lost my edge. never*)
In the Morning
You were taking long shots, we were talking small talk
you and I always said those things like
"How was your day?"
"Did you make the grade?"
and "I'll see you in the morning."
We used to go for walks at 4am
the streets were all deserted
so noone ever heard it when you screamed
"I WILL NOT FORGIVE YOU FOR LOVING HIM,
for loving him!"
and I did not understand why
you felt how you were feeling
I did not want to let it go
If we took two steps back and one step forward would we be friends again?
Or no...
You were taking long shots, we were talking small talk
you and I always said those things like
"How was your day?"
"Did you make the grade?"
and "I'll see you in the morning."
You needed attention
and even though I would provide it
you'd not let me in
even though I tried and tried and tried to forget when
the sky came falling in on us
we were close to the end
we were in over our heads and
he was so far away that
I did not think he could hear me scream
"I do not want to let this go."
If we took two steps back and one step forward
would we be friends again?
or no?
run back and forth from love
run back and forth from love
run back and forth from love
You were taking long shots, we were talking small talk
you and I always said those things like
"How was your day?"
"Did you make the grade?"
and "I'll see you in the morning."
-------------------------------------end
quick note
- i know i don't write many personal things in this "journal" of poetry but jsut incase you haven't actually heard from me in a while and follow these letters once in a while:
1. I am still not adding anyone as a "friend" only beacuse I wish to keep this journal for eyes that I choose to show it to only. and no, I won't make it friends only becasue many of you don't have an lj,
2. i have been greatly inspired as of late and it might have something to do with being able to chill out a little and getting my jackson back. yay floydrose floating bridges. metal. haha
3. i'm in savannah right now but as soon as i get the motorcycle i'll ACTUALLY be able to visit you guys all over the states (and africa????). I'll be done with school by next Thanksgiving and you WILL be seeing me and my camera soon.
4. I love you all and am thankful for you in my life because you are people who INSPIRE me or people who INTRIGUE me... Godbless you all and thank you for spicing life up a little.
rock? rock.
You have a home with me.
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Saturday, November 12th, 2005
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MAN the minds a'wanderin latley
stay and go stray pets and strong names
strong people make better citizens
weak people make better soldiers
on snowy days
1000 miles away
february rains crystals on little girls waiting for kisses on their eyelashes
and frozen finger tip walking
hands numb when alone
and alone so often
a mind settled in warmth
but the physical refuge
a nomad
following herds of green paperback bills
only the darkest of young men
will have you see them as white
sip their chai tea in solitude
go to the cinema alone
wait for their bad habits to kick down the roadblocks
sleep in empty parking lots
and take the bull by the horns
and then celestial trumpets knock the webs from such thoughts
sweep the dirt under the rug
and start again
walking walking
moving toward an end?
daydreaming of winter just isn't helping me warm up tonight
if i bight down on this memory
i'll loose sensual reminders of where i've been
remember
keychains are always there
pocket and table and chair
gifts never given
hands trampled
left bare
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Wednesday, November 9th, 2005
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short skirt
society
stiff back
straight gazed
all night disposition
peace among chaotic preferences
and the glows of unnatural light
draw creatures beyond dusk together
exciting interactions of endeavors and success
toungs whisper about day's dreams come true
oh, we don't dream at night
anymore
and those dreams being sought after
and sunny day, grassy hill, sleeping-in-the-summer
childhood wishes and ambitions
accomplished at these strange hours
accompanied by comradery
and flavored with growing up
are pearls in our pockets
we've already won
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Wednesday, October 26th, 2005
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I am
over illuminated
again.
This exuberance, a known enemy,
my best friend and worst nightmare
volunteer, work, educate.
My fingers tingle
with
the lack of blood.
shipped out to more important appendages
used to help a body keep up with a brain
Let the rest be
unbalanced:
a mobster ok with losses
and the soul can't really argue.
I'm a battle being battled
and at 1am affected.
Here comes a highlite.
Focus, Chelsea, focus.
a grain of sugar under salt under life
please
Let the doors close before the last one is on.
The elevator moves in the nick of time
and i am alone
with caramel and vanilla
singing me scents of coffee house memories.
flash
surprise kisses outside of our known realm
next to uncomfortable seating and under red light up signs
your steal blue eyes matched the snowflakes
and i think of it sometimes
that season named Confusion and time spent wasted well
flash
Bruises changed in color
remain in their respective locations
beneath black hooded sweaters
and rock and roll egos.
I breath a need for releasing responsibility
and diligence.
So little pleases my type of woman, baby:
a dead car type of romance,
rusty roses dressed with gas station candies,
a message in a bottle,
creativity,
a hidden laugh known only by the truly dear to heart,
a patch of color carefully dedicated.
Hello given examples of what a girl needs!
A photo of nothing can change moods in me
and can divert my stomach from an inadequate and static "love".
A photo can create introductions to choirs of children
knowing not what small artworks will stall their ambitions
and a Lord bored with the same old thing.
God wants
something new
something old
and something dear.
I'll settle for creative vitality in love.
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Friday, October 21st, 2005
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rich are the nights when the cool air settles
inches above the grass and pebbles
rich are the people with even a single friend
who acts royally in their company
rich are the poor who have nothing to hold
and rich are the well off
and if I can be so bold
as to wish I was richer than I am
and if riches do hold
i'll know my worth someday
i'll know my worth someday
shouldn't i know it by now?
there are men dressed in black
they are knocking at my door
they beckon come on baby
they are screaming come on girl
where is the tree I've fallen from
where are the branches now?
what is this food ive been shoveling down
i never knew I could
the three am round
sidewalk pours
feet walking them flat
feet walking and walking
away from bad news and mean words
watch me darling walk away from your tung
slit slither slick slut
what serious slander
and between it all I wonder what the plan is
for a woman of white wearing black
hiding her hair
sister mary rebellion?
sister mary rockstar?
well Mr. I can't decide
and Lord knows I've tried
Hark! A heart, thorns and a sacristy
share these holes? share this blood?
lets drink to it
by drink we all mean thumbs up and high five
because that is what storks bring to chaste souls
not the usual?
because the devil doesn't know our names and Father Lord won't dig our graves
because we're stuck in shopping cart relays
and plastic spoon dinners
and penniless blue jeans
and television first dates
drunk jesters without a clue
what day is it? what time is it? what way is it?
smile, jester, smile
and know you are alone
smile, sister, smile
and know that you are wealthy
wealth is a smile on a childs face
sticky and full of freckles
wealth is something chased after and so often missed
and once captured, forgotten and malnourished.
i have wealth in my girl's smiles
there are 10 of you, girls
10 women 10 saints
death would do us part
and by death i mean
i would take a bullet for each of you
and you only
tonight
as i fall asleep
in my jeans and my dreams
i think only of home
and of whatever that means.
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Sunday, August 28th, 2005
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Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005
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redapril's journal
calm.
