Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Oh, Riot and Be Free

Oh, Riot and Be Free

The sun is setting into night
the streetlights start to shine
the distance between wrong and right
is starting to unwind

the ocean sounds its shrill alarm
the calling out to sea
and everything within me shouts
oh, riot and be free

I'm counting out the miles from
the spot in which i fell
i hold myself much closer than
I let myself be held

the questions rise like summer sun
then plague the depths of me
and from the crippled confines yell
oh, riot and be free

drifting night and treetops, red
great summer slowly sets
I'm just the culmination
and the sum of my regrets

some truth withstands the broken heart
the constant villainy
in truth, i'm broken from the start
oh, riot and be free

but as i sit in darkness
as I rest in my defeat
dead and dying, sick and scorned
there's fresh air still to breathe

some voice like campaign slogans calls
strong arms accompany
and whispers to the confines, "child
oh, riot and be free"

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

And This is How He Loves Us.

"But I still stand here, waiting
With my eyes fixed on the road
and I fight back tears and wonder
if you're ever coming home
don't you know, son that I love you
and I don't care where you've been
yes, and I'll be right here waiting
til you come around the bend
and run to you and hold you close
and won't let go, again
so please come home
please come home."

- Dustin Kensrue

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

There's A Man at the Microphone

there's a man at the microphone
with years behind him
days and days and days
happy days,
sad days
days that I hope I never see
he knows failure and success
rejection and open arms
he knows big words
too many for me to keep up with
he knows important people
with names i cannot pronounce
he talks like a persuasive essay
and each sentence is announced before spoken
he states his purposes
he speaks confident
as though I'm actually here
but I am not

I am far away
I am in green grass
and blue skies
I am in clouds and breezes
and towering buildings
i am walking in woodruff park
where the homeless people
ignore me
or shout insults at me
I am smiling in the sun
free from the confines
of all of this production
the world is enough production in itself
it doesn't read from a script
it doesn't try to impress me
it doesn't use big words
it just shines and blows
and grows and smiles
back at me

and there I sit
though, here I am
and dream of what it is
that makes this world go around
and what makes this man respectable
what makes him impressive
his money, perhaps
his big words, perhaps
his influential friends

how does his heart beat
when does his brow sweat
what makes his spine shake
who holds his hair when he's vomiting
who holds his hand on valentines day
who's pillow is he?
i don't really care about his words
or his friends or his money
but those are why
he's talking
as I sit here,
far away

Thursday, October 07, 2010

I'm literally counting down the minutes until the new Community on NBC.