randomstarting

All the boys that never turned into men, And spend their evenings over and over again, Playing games and shooting "guns", Who thought life could be so fun? There's no husband out there for me, Just hundreds of little boys are all I see, Playing, running and being free. I just want to settle down, And do something with the money I found, But there's no husband out there for me, Just little boys watching T.V.

I'll probably die alone, In some cat-filled house,                      by the side of some country road, Because I always felt like my whole life,                      I wasn't worth much more.              And I'll probably cry every single night,              Because I could have had better,              But I settled for so much less.

There's a waitress in Wyoming, Serving coffee, In a pink uniform, For $2.00 an hour. There's folks on their cell phones, All day - getting tumors, That make more money, Than I've ever seen. There's people that live, Everyday - without a dollar, They're still happier, Than I'll ever be, I often wonder, If all we think about, Is money, Can we be saved by something?

Heading West, For us is a source of salvation, In Honduras they head North, Not because some archetype, Or literary genre told them to, It's about trains and plastic bags, The whole way up, Our need for the Pacific, Is a magnetized feeling, That lives in Utah, Or Indiana, In some teenage boy's need, To see the sun set next to the ocean.

The boys want to laugh about everything tonight, If everything's so funny, Why are we so silent here, I can't talk about anything real, If it's up to me, Everything would be so different, But the same different you think about, Cause it's too rough, This boring and quiet life, Let's run to a place, where we won't ever really fit in right, And it's hard there too, I want to find something meaningful, In what you're trying to say. I kinda miss you, In a way, But not who you are now, But more like when I actually cared, about what what you thought, If I could get in that brain for one day, I'd make you see this life we're li

It was nice to find some like minded people, In a world disbelievers, They laughed at everything we said, Cause we were right and the world was wrong, they knew all my favourite songs, And we began to sing along, "Remember those tides, As they ebb and flow, Away from us, Don't left yourself sink again." It was one of those crazy nights, When you're sober as hell, and having the best time of your life.

The coffee here is nice, it's raining though. My notebook and pen, constant friends. The drizzling is enjoyable, this north pacific wind. But I can't think of anything to write about- I wish I could figure this out. My editor, no help there-no guiding hand "Just do what you want, it's all up to you." But, Seattle is nice. Well, nice enough at least. There's still nothing to write about- and my deadline just keeps creeping.

His future is brighter than the Lite-Brite I had when I was 6 years old. He's going to run to the door when I come home from work. We'll be attached at the hip.   He'll think I'm smarter than I really am. I'll try not to lie to him. We'll wear matching pjammas every night. I'll kiss him on the forehead before he falls asleep. I'll keep all the pictures he'll draw. I'll teach him self respect. I'll teach him to respect others. The T.V won't raise him, we wil.

Lauracious We're tied together by misery. My boots are tossed in the corner like I don't really belong here. And your eyelashes are falling off; Showing just how fake you really are. The more I learn about you The more I want to turn you into someone you aren't. Worst case scenario? You learn to love what you hated. I'm love struck in all the wrong places. That's a bit below the belt. Every bruise begins to look like a heart Every lie begins to look like a life line. You're wasting my time. Although I have enough to give. How about you turn that aspect around? Make your nothing everything instead? So maybe I realized somethi

A fragile bullet, aim for the head. Twist torso for drama, and laugh at the dead.                               hahaha  ha NOT a emergency but NOT a drill life like a drug in a sugar-dipped pill.                                Growing in sub-cultures,                                trash of the brain.                                A paperbag suit                                sadly rots in the rain. (The only certainties being death and taxes, I think I'll be a mortician.) (Tax accountants are too boring.)

God bless the momentary liberalists, haunting reverence from the shadows of there own fears.  The white trash grape drones inseminating a society of mastermind sadists, would-be crazed gypsies or pollen quaint school girls.  Urban remedies, poppy red chiefs and house wife stigmatists calculate prudently while Afro-friend nobodies reek of destitution.   My contemporary fellowship pursuing dreams of domesticated impotence, dot com and photogenic pink.  Wednesday petting gutter slags questioning a faith of queer small X folds.  A leap of skeptical alliance in the very existence of galactic fornication. Where were we amongst your profits?  Bobb

In the bitter midst of this dark, empty solitude, Past memories force their way into slow motion. Her alluring smile, flowing with purity and gratitude, Her translucent eyes, emanating with life and passion. Her soft, ebony hair brushing over my trembling shoulder, Her fragrant, pearly hands clutching mine for affection. Ah!My sweet princess, shall I await till you are older? And count the fine years as they gradually meet deterioration? You say love, and yet, you are ignorant of what it is. Whispering a kiss, and yet, unaware of what it stands for. Though unmatched, why do i still crave for passionate bliss? Though hopeless, why a

La veuve d'enfer, la maïtresse du ciel Une illusion de mes rêves, si fétide, si belle I'm calling all angels to bring back my demon They answer my prayers and tell me to dream on On top of a mountain I count all the stars There are way too many yet I find you in any they are just bits and pieces of too many heartbreaks Let me answer your question: I know what it takes je't aime, t'es ma veuve, la maîtresse des hommes tu es comme l'arbre qui a perdu tout ses pommes Dead, dead, dead is your blackened heart I stay close to you just to watch you fall apart Hate is what's left when love is denied and neglected Tiny voices persuade me

:My Red Light Mistress:    Look! Massacre hill is where they watch you             Endlessly The propaganda slut's parade         To the local bizarre      Deceiving all innocence                              Hidden away in man They swarm the red streets      With welcomed entry and guaranteed sickness            Fake mindless dolls With smudged smiles and hushes lies    Will do anything for some green              The one My red light mistress Takes me                Loves me                                & Leaves me Alone and deserted         Amazed but amused

Billions of people, Inhabiting the world, Infinitesimal chances, For interaction to occur Yet drawn are we, To the individuals we meet, Each leaving an imprint, Spiritually deep Beautiful moments, Uniquely defined, What an honor it is, To meet who we find