NUMB

Life isn't just full of happiness,
It's sunsets, it's love, it's tears.
It's the thoughts of yesterdays memories,
That can wash away all out fears.

It's that very painful experience,
That each one of us has had.
It's the laughter that fills the air,
It's the tears when you are sad.

It's loving that someone special,
That at one time made you smile.
It's the pain of losing that person,
But the memories that make it worthwhile.

It's that child in every one of us,
Although in time we'll all be old.
It's the good times we'll never forget,
It's the memories we'll always hold.

It's the hug that we all need,
When we'd rather drown in our sorrow.
It's the hope in every one of us,
That makes us hold on for tomorrow.

dry EYES

Why do I cry today?

Why are my eyes so red

And yet my pen so dry?

Ostentatious clouds of pain

Run tears now down my sky.

Is it because-

The dead child rots on the street,

The sacrificial lamb in panic bleats,

That i pontificate like Keats?

Or because-

The cancer-ridden lady,

Is screaming at all the Gods,

To end her tortured soul?

Why are these words so hard,

To find, to grind and to spit out?

Is not the disease-plagued child,

Crying out aloud?

Is that not muse enough for me?

Ain't it sad enough for poetry?

Aren't the lovers all star-crossed,

Aren't the graves still grey?

Isn't darkness still colder,

Than the feeble light of day?

It is because-

I AM DRY.

Why do I try,

To weep the tears of others,

For whom I care a damn?

Whose existence matters not,

To who or what I am.

But still, I try, I try,

To speak the pain of all,

To take the lonely fall,

To bite the cyanide of those,

Whose pain finds no verse or prose,

But runs silent down their cheeks,

In crystal tears of pain.

My hands are shaking.

It is not because-

I swoon in vicarious dreams,

Lit not by candle-light,

But by Darkness' black beams.

I know why my hands are shaking.

My hands are shaking beacuse they know.

The truth.

They know that I am hollow.

They know that I am false.

Know that I write these here words,

Only to pin them up on walls.

I speak stolen words,

Whispered in those halls,

Where dead poets crawl,

Over broken graves of poets dead.

Listen, can you hear them?

Poets repeating poets,

Repeating poems of old.

Same words, same tales,

In 'New Verse' told.

These words, these letters I spit out,

I regurgitate their lies.

The blessed God of Poetry,

In a hidden corner cries.

And you, reader, cut my words.

Soak them, wash them,

Hang them out to dry.

'Rythmn', 'Metre', 'Ryhme' and 'Style'

Are all polluting my clear skies.

You hear, you read, and then you say,

"Hey man! Your not too bad!",

Or,

"Your not so great,

You should have used those ryhming couplets,

Without any rebate..."

Shut up.

And listen. Listen to me now.

Shut your stupid, dumb, repeating mouth.

Repeating words, repeated since,

Repeating time began.

Listen. Just hear what I say, hear what I say.

But what do I say?

What do I say?

What do I say?

What could I say,

That's never been spat on this dust before,

Or like a donkey brayed?

hmmmm..................................

Hang up the phone, the line is dead

The bitter lyrics yet unsaid

I sit alone inside your head

I breathe and tell myself I'm dead

Wind and wayward madness fell

I sinned, I sinned, take me to hell

But heck, I've tasted all the bliss

That's makes the music feel like this

That makes this pen run so dry

As I bite my cyanide

As stars bloom to blue outside

As darkness turns to bitter light

I stare up into empty space

I miss your bitter bliss, the taste,

Still lingers in my mouth, my head

Spins with all the songs I've read

I brush aside your hair in strands

I kiss away your pain, your hand,

Felt warm in mine, but now I'm bleak

Prufrock taught me not to speak

Upon your crucifix I'm slain

In ecstacy is all my pain

Burning out like a distant star

I'm halfway up to Valhalla

Can we soar on just one wing?

Can I find that silver ring?

Can you bring back just one day?

The raindrops, coffee, Hemmingway?

Metro rides, it's cold inside,

Hold me, hold me, till I'm dry

Mermaid, mermaid, sing to me

Of guitars, love and Vitamin C

Flowers made of iron wire

Wrath the blooms like blood and fire

Joy that rings like chords of life

Treachery cuts me like a knife

Afternoons on messy beds

Songs exploding in my head

Laughter ringing true and false

Silence walking down your halls

Rooftops drizzling with your song

The chords I'm playing sound so wrong

Lightening flickering stark and strong

Your softly parted lips in song

Broken clouds of bitter grey

Light at the end of a rainy day

Drizzling drops on puddles rain

Slowly drying tear-drop-stains

The fickle words of foolish bards

Fate is written on the cards

The Queen of Hearts and curving smiles

Bitter breath of would-be guile

I look straight through warm facades

On shattered glass your beauty marr'd

Staind, grained, the old pictures

Are these thoughts, or lying words?

Can I sing of all that's there?

Can I twirl your pretty hair?

Do I dare to eat a peach?

How deep inside me did you reach?

Can you see the dark inside?

When heaven breaks, where will you hide?

For God knows there is no one there

No one with whom you can share

When sex and cigarettes are dry

When there's no sorrow left to cry

When you've been stabbed and turned to dust

When all those flowers turn to rust

You wingless fall from out the stars

You cut yourself to see the scars

And voices scream inside your head

And all those lyrics that you've read

The dangling conversations, break

And stars like horse hairs loosely shake

Tears are flooding through the door

Your fingers slipping on the chords -

- All saying just ONE frightful thing

You're all alone, and though you sing

Of everlasting love and joy

You are but hedonism's toy

Alone, the woods are dark and deep

Alone, the path is far too steep

Alone, the Listeners laugh at you

Alone, the misty street lamp dew

The leaves of autumn turn to frost

Your picture turns to auburn rust

Hang up the phone, the song is dead

And all the cliche'd lyrics read

I sit alone inside your head

Breathing though in truth I'm dead