It's been quite a while since doin' something like this. Hope it's enjoyed... I'm sure revisions and other pieces will come. In the meantime it'll be good to read everyone else's work and get back into the community.
-Phil
Got a heart full of rhythm that keeps overlapping
All my daily recognitions, all my thoughts
And my suspicions, I'll admit that
Every now and then they become my submissions.
A cacophony of all of my responsibilities,
Discordant and off color like I've got
Picasso's memories.
I'm three dimensional for square but see
I hate wielding this edge...
Too dimensional for spheres
Can't even roll me off the ledge.
I have a lot of respect
For how I came to find this view.
The sad truth is that no matter
Where I look, I see you.
Bred in this hell of unyielding independence,
Turning blue because my vocal box
Can't accept indifference.
Getting raw because your point of view's
Incredibly abrasive,
But I guess I'm masochistic; cause?
I've never been evasive.
Gettin' tired of your words but know
I can't forget the lip.
So persuasively invasive it's
No wonder that I bit.
All those times I said I loved you and
I promised not to quit, see, I understood
My verse but it was you holding the whip.
It was you without the words, so withholding
And demented. It was you hiding behind
Everything you never meant.
But it was me fighting these demons,
It was me down in the pit.
It was me wading in darkness
Finding points to use as fists.
It was me becoming everything
I swore never to be, it was me
Refusing that my love could
Really be this mean.
So I just wanted to say, with every
droplet of my being; Thank you.
That's all. Now let's enjoy the day.
I see the sun is shining through
The blinds trying to blind me
Maybe life is more than happiness;
More than recognition.
More than misinterpretation,
More than raw suspicions.
More than feeling cheated more than
Hopes and empty wishes.
More than, maybe more than,
Ever more than boredom... looped
Like top ten in the mornin'. More
Than pourin' more when the pouring
Rain's a-coming, torrential storms
Of healthy thought, brought
Like an alcoholic's warning.
More than staying home, More than
Bars, lyrics, or mourning.
More than prosaic complaints,
More than touring.
More than finding love,
More than losing friends.
More than trying to find a place
For all of this to end.
More than acting sacred,
More than looking scared.
More than thinking reason
Is reasonably impaired.
More than what we see,
More than everything we are,
More than, maybe more than...
Ever more than.
All those times I said I loved you and
I promised not to quit, see, I understood
My verse but it was you holding the whip.
It was you without the words, so withholding
And demented. It was you hiding behind
Everything you never meant.
Poetry by Phill
Read 906 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2013-05-05 at 21:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
-Phil
What's More
I got ink smears on my hands, too much rap-tap-tapping.Got a heart full of rhythm that keeps overlapping
All my daily recognitions, all my thoughts
And my suspicions, I'll admit that
Every now and then they become my submissions.
A cacophony of all of my responsibilities,
Discordant and off color like I've got
Picasso's memories.
I'm three dimensional for square but see
I hate wielding this edge...
Too dimensional for spheres
Can't even roll me off the ledge.
I have a lot of respect
For how I came to find this view.
The sad truth is that no matter
Where I look, I see you.
Bred in this hell of unyielding independence,
Turning blue because my vocal box
Can't accept indifference.
Getting raw because your point of view's
Incredibly abrasive,
But I guess I'm masochistic; cause?
I've never been evasive.
Gettin' tired of your words but know
I can't forget the lip.
So persuasively invasive it's
No wonder that I bit.
All those times I said I loved you and
I promised not to quit, see, I understood
My verse but it was you holding the whip.
It was you without the words, so withholding
And demented. It was you hiding behind
Everything you never meant.
But it was me fighting these demons,
It was me down in the pit.
It was me wading in darkness
Finding points to use as fists.
It was me becoming everything
I swore never to be, it was me
Refusing that my love could
Really be this mean.
So I just wanted to say, with every
droplet of my being; Thank you.
That's all. Now let's enjoy the day.
I see the sun is shining through
The blinds trying to blind me
Maybe life is more than happiness;
More than recognition.
More than misinterpretation,
More than raw suspicions.
More than feeling cheated more than
Hopes and empty wishes.
More than, maybe more than,
Ever more than boredom... looped
Like top ten in the mornin'. More
Than pourin' more when the pouring
Rain's a-coming, torrential storms
Of healthy thought, brought
Like an alcoholic's warning.
More than staying home, More than
Bars, lyrics, or mourning.
More than prosaic complaints,
More than touring.
More than finding love,
More than losing friends.
More than trying to find a place
For all of this to end.
More than acting sacred,
More than looking scared.
More than thinking reason
Is reasonably impaired.
More than what we see,
More than everything we are,
More than, maybe more than...
Ever more than.
All those times I said I loved you and
I promised not to quit, see, I understood
My verse but it was you holding the whip.
It was you without the words, so withholding
And demented. It was you hiding behind
Everything you never meant.
Poetry by Phill
Read 906 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2013-05-05 at 21:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Editorial Team |
|
StillHoppin |
|
Morning Star |
| Texts |
 by Phill Latest textsSomething Less Than PoetryScar Tissue Musings #349 Musings #328 Musings #327 |
Increase font
Decrease