"Time is a Trick Inside of Itself"

I'm staring at my bedroom window,
Watching the morning rays float through.
Debating the warmth of glass and stone,
Remembering days I waited just for you.

We've seen the dust and flames,
Dynamite fingers, staring wide,
I watch you burn, melt and mold.
Change that won't turn back with tide.

You took my hand once more and smiled,
We thought to change the frosted moon
With lips that met with too much to say,
Just wanting to feel love so smooth.

Your jealousy and my passion
With my gasoline insides, lit the skies,
All too soon ran out of air.
Brought upon us iron shoe-string ties.

With apathetic urgency,
Turned half the days to dark.
Started the rains, turned the tides,
I'm Noah with half an ark.

Suits of ignorance change with fashion,
And I feel I am lost between the art,
Gave our all to some carbon black,
Trying to neutralize my heart.

Don’t reach up to meet my pride.

Written for a contest, had to mention at least three colours an image of the writers choice:



Greens of an avenue painted over with dust,
Wilted sandpaper banister, melting at dusk.
A pipe and a hook just to hang up a shirt,
Worn every day, the white’s covered with dirt.

Knowing better than to skip a stair on the way,
To salvation that is promised each passing day.
Stumble, and your browns will turn into black,
Wits in the corners with an apparent lack
Of truth in the stories that you swore were right.
Complaining to the day that just isn’t light.

Piped and hung up on a redeemed occupation,
Browned clothes, the only to last the duration.
Inked a napkin with the letters I, L and Y.
With torn hands, it stained blue as the sky.

Smile Like You Used to Mean It.

It’s so hot but it’s raining
Down.
The sun couldn’t keep bringing the ocean
Up.
So it hid.

Sitting on a skipping stone,
At the bottom of a lake,
Where I’m safe within a body
That can’t let me go.

And it’s all chemicals,
The way I feel this way (and that).
Why should I feel different?
When it’s just a reaction.

Brought the statuette of a lion
Down.
Managed to bring my head
Up.
To face the ground.

Talking to strangers in the street about repulsion,
Positive and negatives, but opposites don’t attract.
And the cynic just wants to be proven wrong.
Staring at the ocean the sun could never take,
Thinking about how you used to make me nervous.