Box me (Song)

I keep chasing vespas
and dancing in the street
Playing with investors
and the more yellow things I meet.

I listen to the shouts outside
I hear your instincts calling
Proving that the best in you
can't yet beat your natural falling.


Meanwhile I wait with the lightweights
boxing to be free
needing to go run a mile
but stopping quick to pee
I'm split between the man I am
and who I want to be
but I guess that's just a part,


Standing in the door frame
I can see your liquid veins
I can't see your limits
but certainly your reigns

A crutch can only help so much
when you can't stay on your feet
Jumping on the wagon
while you're falling out your seat.

Lying on the floor
at least there's plenty room to share
But it's hard to sleep while the rest of you
keep on switching pairs.


Meanwhile I wait with the lightweights
boxing to be free
standing on a precipice
just so I can see
I'm split between the man I am
and who I want to be
but I guess that's just a part,


I'll stay at home
to avoid the phone
watch movies through my window

Speaking Russian with the lepers
while thinking moi aussi

I'll sit to stand
and write to speak
and sing to make it dance

Making friends most every day
yet getting more lonely

Watch the setting sun
just as day's begun
and love without romance

While I wait with the lightweights
boxing to be free
Close my mouth just as I'm about
to start speaking openly,
I'm split between the man I am
and who I want to be
but I guess that's just a part,
of me.




May I hold no punches,
and love with honesty
Pack my own sack lunches,
and share with those in need.

Help me find and realize
the better parts of me
Please help me make the man I am -
- who I want to be.

Fortunate son

Fortune's favorite child hit 15, became a rebel.
Hung out late and started getting into trouble.
But no matter what he did, he never came no harm
'cause that fortunate son got him a lucky charm.

Work hard, keep up,
get ahead, stay in line.
Work out, keep fit,
get laid, stay fine.
Work late, stay up,
keep pay, get mine.
Workin' it, keep on,
get head , stay behind.

Fortune's favorite child hit 18 and moved away.
Said that he could make it all, doing it his own way.
Lost his money and lost his life when his lover ran out.
That fortunate son? Well his luck, ran out.

Permanent

Prologue:

Permanence is but magic.
Magic, is but lies.

Logue:

Suspended on the cusp of day
standing parallel on air,
my dirty mind is heading down
to meet the dirt that seems sincere.

Grounded once, never again
I'll spin round inject the day.
My blood suspended,
my heart flushed out,
pouting to be feard.

Reliving the moment before it's passed
gravity pulls but I'm not home
she thinks I'm an easy catch
but I'll not be seduced, not here.

I'll fight to win, indefinite permanence
though I know I fight to fail,
fill the space with space and fear,
I can not resist this sphere.

I will fall.




Epilogue:

Speaking words so tragic,
there's magic in your eyes.

Sick

Sick to the head
Sick on my feet
You're sick of the stars,
Mine are just beat.

People

My head is an atlas,
My chest made of stars,
My arms form a compass;
My ass is on mars.

~

To see an angel in the sky
is scarcely an event.
To often are they stuck up high
without a thought turned towards decent.

Here I lay on solid ground
staring at the clouds,
feel the breath within my chest
and hear my anchor's bound.

To see an angel in the sky
is scarcely an event,
when I have people at my side
I know are heaven sent.

~

Grace us with your presence
but don't allow a touch,
I no longer think your guiles
hold interest for me much.
But just for now I see you
for everything you are,
everything you'll be
and everyone you’ll scar.

~

Words that I have yet to write
prefer not to manifest tonight
but sit outside my stain glass door,
to lie and wait for something more.

The Constant Foreigner

The Constant Foreigner
always wandering alone
if he asks directions
be kind and point him home.

A Constant Foreigner
knows how to get around
spent the last three days
lost around this town.

The Constant Foreigner
knows how to demand
he don’t speak any languages
he’s a master of the hands.

A foreign man in a foreign place
A foreign hand on his forlorn face
Words of comfort he can’t ear
Fills the lips within his hear.

A Constant Foreigner
to tired to be alone
if he asks directions
be kind and take him home.

A constant Foreigner came to touch the stars upon your face
Come the morning light he’ll finally find his place.

A wanted coroner
I haven’t seen around
asked his clients where to hide -
heard he’s underground.

Dusk

As of late the light's been low
and it's depart has made you glow,
as oceans burn against the dawn
your ember grows as day is gone
and brings to life the night anew
with dancing flame that flows for you.

Without a sun to show some fault
the dusk, your visage there exalts
with what little light remains of worth
to blend your face with sky and earth
and grace an image not yet of you,
but still a heart that mine love true.

Glow

Lying naked in my bed
I glimpse the face of war
then look back to stars
who aren't there anymore.

Golden light, peering in
doesn't see too far,
Night's been drinking heavily,
and left me with a scar.

Fortune

The times shall test the soul,but love will brace the knees.
I think I'll stand forever
with those who stand by me .

Speak Easy

I have an image of you.
Pieced together times,
a post-modern jigsaw:
I'd like to think I know you.

Don't talk to be serious
but talk just for fun,
Speak of your dreams
and things that you've done.
We'll spend all our nights
away from our beds,
Speak at great lengths
and forget what was said.
To laugh and remind us
what's got to our heads.

There's more in your eye
than reflections of what you see
the image I hold of you
is too much a reflection of me.
Tell me who you are
and what you want to be.

I want to get to know you
I want your company
I want to get to know you
but, well,
you know me....

Pollen

There's nothing quite like

an exquisite sense of loss,

A wonderful reminder

you are still alive.

- End Poem.

In time I hope to see
the shaded sands of all the world.
I'll steal a little of each kind,
all potential pearls.

Oh, the magic I will make,
with those tiny rocks,
They'll be such great communicates
I'll have no need to talk.

The sand will be my castle,
until I wash away.
Bits of me to carry,
bottled messages astray.

Drift into the sunset
and dark that knows no moon,
Drift without regret
'til I find I start to soon.
Pray for western winds
Pray to see the shore
Pray to drift alone again
Pray to drift no more.

Home.

Change in this Blog

So I haven't really been using this blog as a blog since I came back from Europe, so now I'm going to basically turn it into a place for me to post poetry and song lyrics that I'm working on. A big goal of mine is to become a good songwriter and poet, so any input (positive, negative or otherwise) is incredibly welcome. I know not that many people read this, but hey, who knows.

Love,
Garrett