Temper shatters the tempered shadows

Hello, I see again , it's morning
The sun has broke the night,
the shards lay upon the ocean surface black.
It whispers waves upon the islands
where seagulls play with crabs along the sand,
And you are shipwrecked there, your sealegs broken,
But your spirit escaped unscathed and how it ran

I know, I know, I no, I know, I know, I know

The midday sun, it pours upon your shoulders
And turns them a shade of bashful red
as if your skin were shy before the sun.
The tide is out, so now you go collecting
mollusks from the tide pools in your hands,
To feed your empty stomach that's been twisting,
To settle with your spirit, how it ran

I know, I know, I know, I no, I know, I know

And as night falls, I see you're getting weary
Tiny strings are pulling at your head.
A lilliputian army makes it heavy,
Bound and tied to nature like the day your were born.

I know, I know, I know, I know,
I no, I know, I know.

6.22.1986

How do you name the names of places? the faces,
Streaming across the plane of My conscious,
The knowledge pounding like blocks in tetris, the metric system
Means nothing to us, and the crutches
Support us, our arms useless from tons of the lactic juices,
And it touches us, the hairs on our necks stand
At attention from the tension
Under which we lay.

Purlieu Blues.

Eyes up, seeking for to permeate the haze
Can you feel me rumbling in the clouds?
Have you lost control, will the distance kill the woe?

Seem's like the answer's in the cold, effervescing
Up throught the fissures in your lone dormitory window
To chill your cheek and nose.

Beneath gray skies, silhouettes and rows of stumbling blocks
Pave the path that pushes at your feet.
People, pigeon-toed line the streets in Sunday clothes

And shuffle through the gates of the unknown, and there you'll see me
Citing all the loopholes in your old promissory note
And your dowry has been sold.

But still you claim the world is based on opinions
Tracing your tangled hair to the knots inside your head
Although opinions make us of some importance, you know
When the pressure's on, you've a tendency not to show.

Hurumpfh

I was walking
down the empty streets til the night sinks in,
and steals out
from under my feet
All sense of reason gracefully
whisked away,
the sun is setting but we're soon all forgetting,
Our memories of
twisted sheets wrapped around bare ankles,
screams echo off the ceiling
And those who lay in pleasant captivity recommend all the things they're
pretending to be.

Two German Cereals that are Badass

Every morning, like many people, I need to start my day with a hearty bowl of vitamin fortified processed grain, so since I've been here in Germany, I've been exposed to some new types of cereal that are extremely delicious, and yet are not available in America. This post is half educational, half gloating, because I get to eat these as often as I want.

1.Kellogg's Chocho Toppas

Yes, Kellogg's, a brand that all of us are familiar with. This sort of cereal is also available in a somewhat different form. If you look closely, you'll see that these are essentially Mini-wheats, but wait! Why are they brown?! That's because they're chocolate flavored, yes Chocolate. So that means while you are chowing down on your plain frosted mini-wheats (which are also available here) I am basking in whole grain shredded wheat chocolatey goodness.















2. Nestle Chokella

Yes, around these parts Nestle is a major company. Beyond making it's candy (although all nestle candy bars here go under different names) they also manufacture cereal products. Now this form of cereal may also look familiar to you, in fact, strikingly similar to french toast crunch, being that the cereal pieces are shaped like tiny slices of bread. The difference here is that instead of being french toast style, they are covered with a nutella like substance, and thus I am more apt to call them a "Nutella Toast Crunch" type cereal. If anyone doesn't know what nutella is, it is a chocolate hazelnut spread meant for toast, and it's awesome.

(S)word play

And I am lying if I claim to be the lion
And I am lying beneath the lion's teeth, sighing.

Poo Poo on your Fooey Loo Loo

Take of your dress cause it's a small town baby, hold it up and whirl like a flag
We'll scare the life out of some old town ladies, who shouldn't be strutting the drag
Clench your fists tight, don't let them read you baby, poker-faced is how it's all played
At night, pack a knife it's no shoeshine maybe, then you'll survive the day.

What you call friends are the worst ones baby, they'll drown your conscious in lies
Hold the words back, hold them back cause it's not conversationally wise

As the fog sets it's gonna blind you baby, so keep your eyes glued to the street
Someday we'll pack our bags and ditch this joint, but we all know Someday isn't one of seven in the week.

Die Weggeschmissende

I've been digging through my old xanga lately, and decided some things are worth sharing again. This is a poem I wrote in october of 2005. I still like it.

She looks like the girl that everyone knows but nobody wants to befriend
As she sits across the room, trying not to show that all she can do is pretend

One look can tell that she's lost in her mind, wrapped in thoughts too obscene to explain
And wishes to go where no one can find what she saw to make her afraid

Listen up girl, your bonds all will break
You'll gather them up, and from them you'll make
A shield from the spectors that haunt all your dreams
To finally find who you'll be

She sits in her chair and watches her feet to make sure they're still on the ground
Her body is here but her soul's incomplete, frightened of what she had found.

Her words carry no weight, they hold not a trace of want she wants to believe
And just behind the emotions she fakes, she's struggling not to be seen

Listen up girl, your trembling eyes show
What they're hiding, and secretly know
And whisper to you while you turn in your sleep
To tell you who you need to be

Listen up girl, one day you'll hear
A song to make it all clear
By then you'll forget about me
And finally find who you'll be.

Cheeky Squeakies

Mother, why did you you kill your son?
"His cheeks made squeaks as they shifted into places to make faces and I couldn't face it."

You could have made him a mask.
"Yes, but a mask couldn't mask the massive cheek squeaks creaking like a hinge for oil."

"So I buried him in the soil so deep that his cheek squeaks couldn't leak into the flowerbed to peek their tiny heads, and begin to squeak exceedingly, and creak repeatingly, killing greenery, and rotting the toil."

And from there they turned skybound

How long, how long, we've waited for
A sign, a sign, of something more
We climb, we climb up mountains and fountains
but we cannot, we cannot we cannot

Understand what earlier hands
built till the palms all were red,
and here we stand upon hundreds of years,
our feet scrape the stones and rattle the bones of the dead.

Lo! how the crows bring the city down
and they caw, how they call for fruitful ground
but stones and cement is all they found
until they saw the sky

And wings never seemed more useful
towers never seemed so low
since hundreds of years, all that they've feared
is that there's nowhere left to go...

I ben nämlich der Spion von Aale

I've just returned from a few days visiting old friends in Aalen, the medium sized town located in east Baden-Wuerttemburg, just slightly out of reach of the gaping Bavarian border, snuggled within the most northern points of the Swabian Albs.

Aalen in an interesting city in itself, and rather well known for it's Roman ruins and the legend of the Spy that saved the town from being conquered by a foreign army, but that's all besides the point. If you're really that interested, read about it on Wikipedia here

I started my way there on Thursday, and the be quite honest, I was scared to death. I had spoken on the phone only twice with him since I had left four years earlier, and both had been short, only discussing the details of my arrival.

You know how sometimes you get that feeling that you've stepped into a dream? That's what it felt like as I stepped off the train at Aalen Hbf, nothing had changed. The people I called my friends can still be called friends, and even though I haven't talked to most of them in the four years that have passed, It feels like I was here yesterday. It's also interesting how little people change, the quiet people are still quiet, the annoying ones still annoying.

It's nice to have a tiny little place in the world where you can go and have a whole other group of people that knows you, and possibly sees you completely differently than the people back home. They all still talk about the time I played a song at the school concert....hm.