Sunday, October 7, 2007

for never in fashion

while my brothers go on to their toilet break...

its this orange
you could be fevered with
its in the seed
we could sour within

saint francis you could cut me open
in the ideal world
come taste me inside out
seeking and picking
and singing and drought

drafted and halted
and strung around in this
bloodied flower
my ever lasting shower

can't resist the urge to herbal essence.
its orange flavour
is extremely appetizing
its like saint francis
doing a mambo in wonderland
and then cutting me open.

its not morbid if i am a fruitcake.

and iýam a fruitcake people.



morbidly funny.
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kaching, u don't know how much fuck ups to get this right.



this is captian oreo's guitar... hello dude, i put erm half a star below the bridge.. can see? eh the reflectionzz are a bit hardcore ah... i use powerful flash ah... plus shaky hands, but can see la ... okay cheeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrssss

colours used, crimson alizarin, raw sienna, prussian blue, and asshole black.


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Sunday, September 16, 2007

specialism receipt

and so she asked father
who created god
synthetic mint punctuated rigid walls
a gastronomic heart within the beings
that lived within
faith and hope should never share
the bed of humanity
nor use religion as contraception
there has to be independence
walking along the lines of selective indifference
when it comes to one's seeking
does one need an agent between them and salvation
does one need to prove himself before redemption
a psychological affection
an emotional attachment
a need to heed
a dependency on the agency
a crowd that would not believe
tells you to walk the other way
and you should
really
because the only thing you conform to
should be yourself.
with selective indifference of course.
and father tells her god just exists from the start.
he asks her what makes you think of this question.
she said,

it just existed from the stART too.
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Saturday, September 8, 2007

treasure.

my he art r aces
w hen i th ink
of you
are my eve ry thing
does not matter except you
make my he art come to get her
we are one
now and for ever
i will st and by you r side
my d ear s aint from above
all things i love you

have my he art.
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Monday, September 3, 2007

sorry

i have a natural tendency to let people down, i have the natural tendency to make people hurt. i have to apologize for the way i feel, i meant well. i never tell. i never ever tell. i have my hands up. my second chance at life just does strange things to my heart. don't you ever hurt yourself, don't you ever hurt your soul, do it as a favor for me, it hurts.

please. don't spite me.
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hurt, trent took the words right out of my gut.

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stain of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way





if i could start again, i would really really find a way. really.

jesus, cuddle me.

it never stops, it never stops. soon, once again, i'll have nothing to lose, is that all so comforting?

hush hush hush ruben, hush.
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Wednesday, August 29, 2007

dreams do stain reality

as easy to spot as a dark stain on christ's white of the eye
an insincerity feeds on a heart
a reflection between to mirrors doesn't go on forever
but only until the subject is unable to see
an emotional astigmatism
a myopic faith
a boy who can't trust his eyes not because his imagination is out of focus
but because his brain has ceased to be
a wish that can't be granted
a prayer without a me
yet sweet lies bring him on a path slanted
truth is a chameleon on different tongues
but deceit is constant
because it is everything
understanding is hardly benevolent
and acceptance comes only after a fee
a subject that has died once
splintered formations and life juice are free
embrace a small insanity
a shot of dry apathy
the heart does not feel
the heart does not break
the spirit is the made of cork
all the damage it will take
the subject seeks permission
and promises to fake
who knows under what conditions
this charity he will make
love is in evolution
an irony if it may
but it's just a tab in a life of complication
i can do without
but only barely
will i let go
the seed i sow
the big rebel was right
man can't always reap what he sow
i don't ask for help
when the trouble is within
a bittersweet consequence
connections of emotions have let me in
i asked for termination from the start
now its firmly etched onto my heart
be biggest lesson learned has told me
not to develop the brain
a mix of excreta and essentials
in the cranium in the drain
my folly of goodwill
the biggest gift i'll ever give ladies and gentlemen
will simply, very simply

be

the

one

most

realistic

surreal

.













hush ruben hush, hush, hush, hush. ruben is a spelling error, it is underlined in red. thats right, i am underlined, in red.
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