Archive for December, 2009

i sware’ dat bit be haff ful

Posted in exploding heart, paranoia on December 24, 2009 by tony saputo

conquest for every sad fuck up i could endure
calamity stomachs the void in my kidneys and gut
fill it up with an empty drink, empty acquaintance, empty love
and store it for the jester’s revenge

speak and spill evil all over the floor
do not look behind you
congratulations  to the  all the bile stored
creating the failure of our deviants

and with the red wine to remind me
we show our hearts and laugh till we cry
for we have the similar interests of nothingness
and the same lonely holiday of empty lives and no one sharing

empty drink
empty friend
empty love
another empty day

i fuckin turned

Posted in pissed on December 5, 2009 by tony saputo

i spat blood and picked all the scabs open
grinning and gritting
angry self righteous teeth glare
i  know my right
i know i am right
i swear, i want you to test me
this is where i start winning again…

i always had a knack for losing all the wrong people

the songs in winds

Posted in glory in the overlooked, heartbreak, lost in these purposes and collecting ours on December 2, 2009 by tony saputo

dissolve into rudiments
a force that controls, and a hope that lingers
stuck in the gums
a mouth cancer to be washed out upon whisky, fire, and spit
every chance i had lost

and upon her visage
much like the feather in the breeze
they are so much more beautiful dancing with the wind and her dreams
other than the settled foundation in the grass
perhaps i just learned what they always knew

and upon a callous society
the spiritual hind of an elephant wrapped around the tender fear
it is so easy to be afraid of something real
this is not a chance or trivium
this has been planned

and as us, the leaves, the feather, the loves, the losses travel
in this mother’s cursed twirling breaths
the songs of the bourgeois have been sung since we descended
and as we destroy our loves out loud and sing these melodies
i lie still, holding on, and quietly humming, of an unknown, unheard timbre, till i know it is safe to sing aloud.

if you forget this nightingale love, you never knew it…