Notice a regimented city full of ants
Where shoulders rub without a glance
And never do bowed heads look up
To notice men with trembling cups
To see the sky, and admit its worth
Embrace our helplessness from birth
Invisible chains brace personal spaces
To widen the gaps from race to races

Moving back and forth, Up and down
We scour the maze for gains to be found
Blinders on, we tunnel our way
Never stop to talk, it creates delay
The troubles of others are theirs alone
Emotions cause chaos, changes faces to stone
Be the best for yourself, climb to the top
And stomp on the heads of the weak who have stopped

But who will be there when your limbs give out?
When age leaves you breathless, unable to shout
When illness takes over and you can't quite recall
What it was that you climbed for, was it important at all?
When the money and materials you collected so dear
Gather dust on a shelf without one which to share
All your life you have strived to reach top the hill
And you finally get there, just to feel unfulfilled

Take a look around now and notice this place
Take the time to stop and study each face
Always keep your dreams and aspirations afloat
But let others in and let love be your boat
Empathize with others, try and feel what they felt
You never quite know the cards they've been dealt
The key to success is to take notice of grace
We are not working ants, we are the human race

At first I did love you,
but then the rain caught up.
Always thinking of you,
laying dormant on your crest.
To drink until you blurred,
until as velvet as the mist.

When I grow up, I'll be cool.
Smoke until my lungs float.
Drink until my body's a pool.
Think of people with three felonies,
singing the same penitiary melodies.
Think of girls that said no,
love that diminishes
while a fetus grows.

I'll think of my dad growing up
under a different circumstance.
Think if my mom could hear,
she'd probably like to dance.
Think of my grandpa and my brother,
one isolating, one with too much love--
I wish it'd smother
me, under a Christmas tree,
whispering, 'I wish I could give more,
but all I have is me.'

At first I did love you,
but the frame spills metal guts.
Always thinking of you,
the way your eyes, wide shut.
To think of a turn,
I watched it blur,
the glass shattered.
The paramedics mimicked me,
lifting me up,
'What's the matter?'

When I grow up, I'll be dope.
Find a nice blond and maybe elope.
Shake into her what was stirred into me,
and tell her not to mistake it for chemistry.
And bleed no more, so she doesn't believe,
that there used to be a weaker me,
but it's hard to control a certain circumstance--
like, what if my mom wished to dance?

Ashland is a small town
on a small planet, in an
ever expanding universe.
The people here are bitter
and so is their spit, from
full-flavored cigarettes
and diluted kisses spun
from the lips of significant
others, that didn't listen to their
mothers, and married because of
irresponsible reasons, like personality,
respect, love, and other, 'Jesus, **** me
the **** now, so help me.'

Abstract thought is dangerous--
to the mind it's cancerous.
Alone and thinking about
melancholy shaped memories or
kisses that would echo through
your lungs, stomach, ******* soul.
Don't do it. Don't you invite the devil,
killing yourself is so concrete, it must
mean more than a concrete floor,
hovering above a rumored hell and a
definite uncertainty so delicate that it
eats into you with its sensitive meandering
disguised as beauty but, really, a violent,
violent, murderous host, hoax, fake but
eating your superficiality, programmed by
someone else, telling you it's you.

Ashland is a small town,
aren't we all a small town, inwardly.

(20 minute poetry)


Rush
Rush
pushed in and crushed in
I'm standing
no seats.

It beats me every time
I'm good
I stand in line
I queue
It's what polite people do,
but these morons with blank looks don't play fair.

I care less about them than they care about me
any fool can see that although squashed flat against the door I'd need eyes in the back of my head,
that being said, albeit quietly,
don't want them to hear me.

I get to where I'm going without once throwing up.

Monday's no fun day since Sunday bowed out.
now't I can do 'cept jumping the queue and
I'm too old for athletics.

I remember wanting to leave
But she was busy putting on her make-up
Well,
I have left
Wherever she is now
She's probably still putting on her make-up

The love I used to hold has gone away
I was pushing
Until I pushed to far
And I'll be a man without a home

And my hands are empty
And my mind is numb
My reckless ways
What I have done

I could have had it all
But right now
I have nothing



The love I used to have has turned away
I was losing
Until I lost my mind
And I'll be a man without a friend

And my bloods still flowing
My lasting scars
My restless mind
My broken heart

I could have had it all
But instead
I have nothing