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TAKE THIS SLAM-DANCE
Can't remember all the lies i should've told
To get you off your melted chair.
Can't forget the way you did your hair.
You probably smelled bad but I wouldn't have cared.
You probably were addicted but I wouldn't have noticed --
Unless you asked me to.
I wouldn't have knocked you down,
But you wouldn't have murdered me;
And I would take this slam-dance with you
If only I could find you --
But I can't, and I never will.
It seems like its been years since I saw you last;
I don't even know if you were real.
And all I have to remind me of you
Is this stupid photograph.
But bring me to the pit and I'll forget my sorrow...
Please take this slam-dance with me.
You and I skipped down a candy street
But only in dreams will we ever meet.
We ditched school to watch the rain fall
And we spray-painted flowers black,
Hoping to someday throw them from a stage
Filled with anger;
Hoping someday we'd be back together in the mud...
Take this slam-dance with me.
FISH FINS
You thought I hated you
But I've never hated you until now
You are a paranoid wreck
But only because you think you are
You're just like me,
So I know it's all in your head
I can tell by the way you talk
The way you look at me
I can see right through your lies
And you don't even know you're lying.
If you would listen I'd talk to you
But you're too stubborn to hear
Me screaming
Too blind to see
The anger in my eyes
For those who corrupted your mind
And you will never know
That you try far too hard
And you're fine the way you are
I don't want you to be like me
But oh well
I guess I can live with hatred anyway.
ELECT THE BURNING BUSH
You know how to trick an idiot
But the smart ones can figure out your mind.
You know how to persuade an idiot
But the smart ones laugh at your face.
You're desperate and failing
Like a fish you're crying and flailing
But the others know what you don't
And you'll never win any race other than this.
This is the end of your term in your mind
This is the end of American sanity
Because you're no Burning Bush
You're no worship icon
And we see through your liar's mask.
I'd let your body hit the floor
As the ink got on my arms,
But I know you'd get back up and disease me
Go ahead and desert me
You're a shallow puddle,
And I will splash you until you've dried up
And your supporters are alone.
Elect the Burning Bush for American Idol!
A POEM VIA MAGGISSA
Spitting beans, three-day-jeans,
No real plumbing, never clean,
Shredded meant and lumpy lard,
Mellows
that are more-than-charred,
Cold, cold, cold, and hot and hot,
This comfort-pillow’s really not,
Ants in my
cereal,
Spiders in my hair
Doesn’t really matter when your ‘up’ there,
With ‘mountain-trees’
and evergreen air,
With friends drunk on laughter
And happy ever after,
And life is almost fair,
Canoes! and Hikes!
and Fish! and Bikes!
And all that Junk! none of us likes!
But naked mermaids in the sand
Skipping rocks and Indian
Man.
Fresca slam-dance in the rain,
Shower-drench under the drain,
Lazy bums and bumsey laze,
Music-ing a lot
these days,
Bouncing Jeep and flashlight craze,
In the gravel we satellite-gaze,
MxPx- no real names,
Moonlight trips to the pee-er,
Anita’s bladder: a new frontier!
Every moments a kodak one,
But
in three days its over-done,
Pack up the pop-down then wait a few hours,
Dowers, dowers, dowers, dowers,
And hugging
ketchup on the way,
Sleeping for the rest of the day,
Jillenhalls gone and so am I,
Camping itches in my eye,
Gracias
for the great time,
Come again, good customer,
Take this slam-dance, mountain tree,
Your fam-fam, jillenhall and
me.
VOODOO DOLL
You hold to tight a leash
You have no sympathy
You crack the wip on non-slaves
Just because it makes you laugh.
She sneaks out at night
Hurting herself and her friends
And when her life ends she'll be glad.
You beat her with words
You smother her world
And when her life ends you'll be glad.
She is just a voodoo doll
You take your anger out on her
She is just a pin cusion
And you drive your fists into her eyes.
You wish she were a little less mean
But too many poeple could say the same
About you
You treat them like voodoo dolls
But someday, you'll get poked dead too.
SLOTH
Sloth is a funny word
It sounds like a slut
So therefore, I'm guessing it looks like the "KKK"
Sloth
Is a stupid word
It smells like pumkin pie
And looks like a tooth
I wish I were named sloth
Then I would rhyme with orange
And get covered in moldy folds
Of a second skin
Like the way oatmeal turns to glue when it's old
And all the stupid stories that we've told
Because cats can't change lightbulbs,
And neither can sloths.
My Duct Tape Angel
She thinks she’s not a worthy addiction
She thinks she’ll never make the transition
From downhearted to blissful
Or hollow to whole.
She thinks she’s nothing
She says
She’s inanimate
She’s waiting
Look at her
She is a painting.
She stands still
Through all that she fears
But feels nothing
And hears only her ringing ears.
Her hands are
Tied behind her back
She is a duct tape angel
Eyes dripping black
Tears rolling over
Her glued waterproof thread
My angel is dead
And silent,
Silver with dread.
She has a face eclipsed by dreadlocks
A body drenched in blood
A soul that once had a purpose
And her friends are almost all gone.
Her wings have been shredded
By her very own blades
And she says she pays
For all that she’s done
Not in change,
But in pain,
And her regret is overdone.
She does not walk
She refuses to talk
And her legs
Are covered
In freshly made scars.
She doesn’t open her wounds
For anyone she loves,
And she doesn’t love
Her open wounds.
Her eyes are lovely
But they hold her thoughts
Her memories
Her life
And looked upon
Seem heartless and mad
Because she hides her kindness
In shrouds of black velvet
Beyond her pupils
Inside her mind,
And no one
Will ever love her more
Than the ones she neglects
The most,
For she is a duct tape angel,
Too tortured even to care.
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