Archive for September, 2009

days bleed into one another

Posted in Uncategorized on September 19, 2009 by matt questionmark

days bleed into one another
one and another bleed onto each other
blood is not a bond worth breathing
breathing is worth the risk of drinking
drinking and bleeding is worth the risk of deceiving
isn’t it?
is
not
it feeling
back peeling
sun drunk with mouth full of tater tots
wasted your potential
wasted your breathing on burrito and beer
failing like muppets at football
flailing the arms
up in the air
yelling out
yelling out
“you don’t want to die alone”
how sad
that we
rely
on such things as
human contact
plaza frontenac
courtside dilettantes
vomiting racism
shitting kenyans
ejaculating eritreans
fucking south afrikaans
breathing americaan
days bleed the bees and the beast bleeds the beats
we no longer expect what we think is good
the bad is prescribed when we are born
shoved down our throats with a helpful dose of bad tee vee
and sugar water mixed with caffeine and other helpful stimulants
to make you shit redwhiteandblue
breathing is worth the risk of drinking
gin and tonic
with lime
with smile
knowing i haven’t given in
the skin flakes off
the greys more prominent
AND THE LIES ARE LOUDER
deafening our hearts in summer heats
the beats bruise our feet
only bringing us back to to the beginning
(thereisnoescapingthisonslaughtofstupidity)
hold my hand, honey
our blood is a bond for deceiving.

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for my friends… essence and being

Posted in exploding heart, i'm afraid of americans, illusioned on September 9, 2009 by tony saputo

the question of our families and our pasts are brought to light
the corridor gleams a sour aura of a pungent tone
and not enough whiskey will wash away all the things i have seen
or will forget myself and where we come from

it is the essence of these years that we hold our futures
as careless as we kill the insects we live among
or as precious as the newborn, sinking into our hearts and minds forever
it is no longer what we did, who we are, but who we will be

twenty seven years is only long enough to see how much i do not know
but rest assured i can confirm we are afraid
we are sold as cattle to a slaughterhouse weakened by consuming false goods to build adequacy to superficial social needs
we are lied to and in such, we believe we are special

more than ever i realize, “we are shit.”
you would have to thank the questionmarks for an answer such as that
but particles vibrate and remain amongst our energy, our live being
which in turn, becomes what little time we have left

so be it love, life, dreams, and failures
this is your world, the opus of our stories and glamor
a self-edifying reaction, the marble of our existences
lies still and waiting in our hands

i stole the world from a woman who deserved the universe, but saved her from myself
in this reflection, i am more of her than anyone i have ever met or known
this is not sorrow, regret, remorse, or proposal.
just the admission of how much good a person can really do

if you do not know me; it is because i do not want to be known
if i do not talk; it is because it is nothing worth speaking of
if i remain unseen; it is because i deem it so
and if you forget my name, my face, and these words; it is because you never listened

i have been told i take life too seriously
but i have a day waiting when i will decide this
neither gods nor devils will judge me
for they both know me well

to the melody which opens my veins and pours itself in
to each proof i can conjure and theroms i rest inside my soul
to every word i write explaining this reality
and to every smile any has ever given me; this is my thanks

i do not love this world, nor the masses that contaminate it
i remain sure and promised
that just like a balloon soaring to the heavens
losing all the dead weight is the first step

forget me, forget my name, my face, these words
do not trace in my steps
these are the years in our essence
that are just blocks in the path of a deathbed

do not fool yourself, experience good souls
love those who love, while discerning between the actions and words
this is the beginnings of our first last steps…
everything from here to there is ours