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Sounds Familiar
09/15/09 at 08:02 PM by TK
Another group of shitty lines that I'll probably never get around to editing. Nonetheless, here's my random lines for the night:

It's as if you're just a wall
That won't reverberate my voice,
But just pan it down in the bricks
And cold hard cement so that it
Can never escape. I feel so lonely.

Should have been asleep
But my heavy head drags my eyelids
Open. It's something to do with gravity,
This see-saw teetering effect I've held
Since my foot lost the boundaries of its print.

If only we could climb into those photographs
Of the times when we were still little kids
Who knew nothing of what grown adults did
I think we might still want to exist.
But we can't and I don't
But we can't and I don't
But we can't and I don't
Tags: poetry
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08/21/09 at 06:53 PM by TK
Something I'm working on...it's just an idea right now.

Quick, go and call a better scientist
Because I've been caught in a failing experiment.
Looking now at this bleak beaker, can you tell me
Have all of our attempts always been so meager?

Wait, I think I've got a solution to this and it's with
The both of us. But who's the solute and solvent?
Who is the one that breakdowns in the end?
Who's pushing out and who's pushing in?

Stop, these are the roles our cells must play
No matter how much you wish for that to change.
So carry out and tell me when we'll making progress
So push me out and tell me when you regret this.
Tags: shitty poetry
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Another Shitty Metaphor
08/19/09 at 03:45 PM by TK
There were outlines spread out like coloring pages
Upon breaking patches and necks holding up downing faces.
I colored in the red, white, and blue breaking skin with
Sections of dry rubber and fading ink and then
I traded in an apron and lover for a brand new white paint cover.
Determined this time to keep it clean, to keep myself clean.

Finger painting with someone else's fingers
Is it the same? It looks the same.
Finger painting with someone else's fingers
Is it the same? It feels the same.
Tags: poetry
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Lost Dog
08/06/09 at 10:50 PM by TK
Yesterday I subscribed to another weekly post
Of old posters eating themselves into dying poles
And although all the issues have been free,
Each new article up to now has left me
Feeling little and even a little more lonely.
Tags: poetry
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04/23/09 at 08:33 PM by TK
Why is it that an increasing number of people think I'm an asshole? I don't know whether they're joking, partially joking, or making honest statements. I guess I just can't be myself around people without coming off as insensitive jerk.
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03/17/09 at 08:06 PM by TK
Glass reflects
Images and distances
Not quite perfect,
Not quite correct
And with these glasses of mine,
I spend most of my time
Trying to differ
Which perception is right,
And which one isn't.
So much amount of time
I lose sight of what I was looking at
And it's gone, it's left my view

Her features and smile look nice
Under fluorescent light,
but of halogen and incandescent,
I couldn't say, I couldn't say.
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03/12/09 at 08:59 PM by TK
Ounces or grams,
inches or centimeters
No instrument of length can measure,
no scale of weight either.
So can you show me how you've transgressed
from your casual attire to your formal dress
When the shoes you bought
still give you blisters when you show them off
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03/06/09 at 08:23 AM by TK
Push me out on the last limb
But fail to mention that the wood is rotten
And let us see how long it holds me
Before we hear a snap and I fall back
Towards the ground and it's gravity.
I prefer the smell of the air down there anyway.

Swing sets are merciless tricks
The higher I get, the more sure I am
That I'll take vacancy of this seat and fly
But the longer I swing, the more I realize
The further I go means the farther back I'll fall
And I've grown content with this gravity.

Does it matter how high you jump?
As long as your feet leave the ground?
Does it matter how often you jump?
Or are you just wearing yourself out?
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It's Funny
02/26/09 at 04:41 PM by TK
How you lose contact with friends over time. How you won't talk to somebody for a couple days, then that turns to a couple weeks, next thing you know is you haven't talk to that somebody for six months now. Because of that continuing span of time when you stopped talking to that person, you're really unsure of when that friendship ended. I think that's what lessens the feeling that something is missing. But once someone is taken from you, so abruptly, it really hurts. It's funny how that it is.
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A Short, Fun(Synonym for shitty) Poem
02/25/09 at 10:22 PM by TK
It's another lazy morning
Where the sun was caught asleep
Napping away the whole day
This action, it takes place too frequently.
How dare it waste the hours that I'd like to keep
Instead, of staying in this bed, too afraid of the outside
Oh I stay in this house of mine, for any little reason, I stay and hide
Too fearful I might stumble and falter with no clear path in front of me
No cushions, blankets, or sheets.
No soft landing, no friendly hand to pull me up
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If Not For My Glasses
02/16/09 at 10:14 PM by TK
is an awesome song. I'm starting to appreciate Drunk Like Bible Times the more and more I listened to it.

A postcard of apple cores on spit strained wooded floors
I spent an evening getting practice looking bored
And there's a leaf on the sill but it won't be there tomorrow
Just some memory that I made it never really goes the way I planned it to
I'll tell it like you want all parts appeal and none that don't
I love your face the way it moves your murky mouth your eyelid brooms
And I'm feeling that cobweb apprehension
You're taking pictures of me as I fall down the stairs
And it seems so awful if not for my glasses and hair
You say I'm your white cast kid, I was born for your cares
Why you gotta label me now, why, why now?
So I opened up the door I know now what you're for
But still not who you are
So who, who, tell me who
And then you leaned into me and whispered rather softly
"Your feet don't fit the branch"
It never really goes the way I planned it to
I'll tell it like you want all parts appeal and none that won't
Like worthless words that you spit out, the foaming garbage of your mouth
I'm always listening; I go rummaging through a dumpster of speech
You're taking pictures of me as I fall down the stairs
It seems so awful but this never happened who cares
I'm your T.V. taught child; I'm your sweetest affair
When the alarm clock goes off you will disappear
But I loved your face the way it moved your murky mouth your eyelid broom
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Does anyone else get sick of the same old routine?
02/06/09 at 03:55 PM by TK
It feels like I'm wasting my time going to work everyday, then going to school, and then going home. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being lonely and writing about past relationships instead of something relevant in my life, but there hasn't been someone relevant in my life for a while now. I'm tired of being broke and wondering if spending six years in school is the right thing for me instead of living my life now rather than planning for it later. I'm just tired.

Tags: stupid rant
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"Birds" or "We're As Big As Giants, But We Still Can't Climb This
01/30/09 at 04:24 PM by TK
So the panels decayed
on top of stripped rooftops.
All of the cars drove away,
and left us with empty parking lots.

Our seats,
they were mounted
in wet cement.
And what of our actions?
They became the drying winds.

We're evolving into statues
more and more each day.
The birds are flying after us
Soon I fear,
we will not be able to walk away
from what's ingrained us, from what's enslaved us.

And what of these birds,
what will they do?
They will use us
as shitting grounds
and perching mounds,
until they flock away
at the moment migration seems fit.
Regardless, of what they left us with
or where they're flying to.
And what of ourselves?
What will we do
but stand still
motionless, unable to move.
Unable, to do a thing
because of our actions, or lack thereof

And in vacant playgrounds,
where our spirits used to play,
we dug our own ditches
behind abadoned park benches,
watching as the hours passed us by.

On those same benches,
we sat together.
But the moment we took a foot to stand,
we were alone, we were alone again.

In those same parks,
together we would walk
until we reached the outskirts.
Then we ran, we ran from each other.
Then we ran, we ran, we ran alone.

And we lived together
in that same neighborhood
that turned to the same town
that turned to the same state
that turned to the same country
And now we're just living together
but someday,
that will turn to dying alone.

Or the short version:

The panels decayed
On top of stripped rooftops
All the cars drove away
And left us empty parking lots

Our seats were mounted
In wet cement
Our actions have become
The drying winds

We're becoming statues
More and more everyday
The birds are coming after us
Soon we won't be able to walk away
And they will use us
As shitting grounds
And they will use us
As perching mounds
Each and every day...

In vacant playgrounds
Where our spirits used to play
We dug our own ditches
Behind abandoned park benches
Where we sat idly and gave way
To time's cold hand

We sat together and stood alone
We walked together and ran alone
And we lived together and we died alone
And we died alone, we died alone
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Fix Everything
11/01/08 at 05:39 AM by TK
Just something I've been working with

Tug away at the store bought duck tape.
Pull apart the collage of gauze and band aids.
Remove all the oozing quick drying glue,
And the staples acting as stitches too.
Those quick fixes never last.
Let's find something more concrete.
(More permanent, more permanent)

A handful of pennies, a couple of nickles
The stray quarters and half dollars
We need change, we need change
Today, we're going to change
Yes, if we get enough,
We're going to fix everything
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A Work In Progress
09/17/08 at 01:19 PM by TK
I've been telling stories,
While you've been writing books.
But is it the quantity or quality that matters
Is it the twists or the hooks?

Because I've realized,
That I am too afraid
To ever pen more than a page
Let alone a chapter
Or developed characters
Or relationships that matter

The criticism, I could take.
It's the disappointment
That would break me.
But you're unbreakable,
...you can't even bend.
You don't care about or for
The critics or your fans, anymore
And I don't think that you ever did
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Last Updated: 09/15/09 (3,029 Views)
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