Have you ever broken a bone?
This one time when I was little I hit my face on a marble table and I broke my nose. I think – I’m not good with memories…
Anyway, now my nose hurts any time something comes at my face too fast.
Author: Ché
I know all the lyrics to most of the songs released prior to 2020, but I WILL forget your name WHILE you're saying it.
name callin’
just to the left of love
in between lust
and insanity
i lie
as you trace my emotions
with your words you speak soft
and slip sweet everythings
in my ear
enough to drive a girl
to stop drinking
is the intoxication
of the sugar that you spill
i don’t know where to put this in my heart
i’m perforated and easy to pull apart
hungry enough to try and steal
what you so willingly give
satiate my thirst
satisfy the urge
but wait…
don’t
if it gets any better
i may be lost wondering where i left
my poise and reservation
i keep trying to walk away but every time
we part
i come
apart
trying to get around
the places you send me
a rambler on the paradise-despair line
i keep trying to walk away
but your reach is
just long enough and
just strong enough to pull your name
from my chest long and slow
along with whatever good sense
i have left
the beast
oh, what a wicked, nefarious fit
rioting the mind
soliloquy bent on wielding wit
to wage a war on time
a soul as mild as scent on shade
is nearly as aware
apropos and apt to writ
with all who’ll wager fare
softly from her haunches
saunters sweetly, slight askew
all to the nines in nuances
noticed by too few
be wary though, the drive is strong
and lines have yet been drawn
’round the siren shard that slices dawn
with words that don’t belong
for the facets of the whole at helm
are too many to be bound
but the poet – as a separate self
is a madness
walkin’round
I don’t
How do you balance work and home life?
Send help.
Cost of Living
It may not set you back
Enough to really set you back
May force you to fall forward
Into all the things you lack
The strength that you’ve been earning
From faith and sustenance
Is spent on begging Jesus
For a twenty-second chance
The woman on the corner
Out from in between the throes
Spends her spirit running from the shame
Of taking off her clothes
The secret ways you bide your time
Are more expensive than you know
Filling your home with wrath and worry
Leaves less room to grow
The cost of living day to day
Makes it hard for meeting ends
Has us budgeting our love
And borrowing patience from our friends
Then when the stale day starts to sour
And cutbacks bend your brow
You contemplate a tragic means
To escape the here and now
Take life at face value
And you miss the value in facing life
The price of precious lessons learned
Is more than worth the strife
So be careful where you spend your heart
And what a sharp tongue may buy
Because life has a wealthy answer
For your patient, worried “why’ .
having writ
on the cusp of surrenderthe artist weighs a maybe on a plea
maybe
if i set my engine to this ache
my mind could get some rest
if i write it down, if i sing it loud, if i oil it to the canvas
being stabbed or shook or drowned it will pass silently in the night
and so she digs – gouges into what ails her
hollows her heart to spare the tissue around it
and with the final stroke, there it be
the masterpiece she’d grow to love
more than hate the thing that made it
a riot of residual emotion
in her living room
staring her in the soul
just so happened this time the demon
begat a beautiful piece of sky
with hues of you against a finer cloth
than you’d seen in these parts
in at least month of Sundays
motivation clad in the keepsake of that sanguinary battle ‘tween the bitter and the sweet
lossless
when you talk
i find it hard to pay attention
to anything but what your lips are doing
what?
yeah. sure.
whatever you want.
i mean, i’m listening
swear i am
but i get distracted
by what you’re trying to show me
and i just smile
and nod
hm?
nothing.
keep talking.
and then you get to the part of the story
where it’s funny
and YOU smile
damn.
i can’t
see.
spirit@peace&joy@hand 