It's a funny place to be
when you're stuck behind the wheel
of a car you don't own
on streets you don't know
towards a destination unforseen
but your destiny is manifest
in the dirty puddles beside the road
and the gunmetal skies
and the people that you pass by
and while you try the best you can
to change what will come
it's still the same as it was before
seven sacks of shit with a kick in the teeth
and the people you called friends
are nowhere around
and everything you loved
is behind you in the dust
and the future is the smog on the horizon
and the only thing you know is
what you heard from a guy
you thought you knew
yesterday:
'these are the best years of your life'


Figures.

All virgins are liars, honey

It was a song she'd heard before
with new lyrics
that failed to reveal
on why they'd even bothered

It was a bar she'd been before
with dimmed lights
to hide the fact
that everybody looked the same

It was a book she'd read again
ignoring the knowledge
that it wasn't very good
or worth the paper it was printed on

It was a game like any other
with winners and losers
hiding the real issue
that none of it mattered

All virgins are liars, honey

took rides in the candy bar venues
among dirt and savvy and lawnmower engines
stapled love notes to the bottoms of bars
caroused with henry and the whores
we laughed mighty laughs
idled in the grass
with stains and scrapes on our knees
pinched lightning bugs with fresh jelly
and saluted the navy men
who always feel alone
suspended in hong kong and the philipines
two day passes in dark rainy alleys of the far east.

it rains here and the colors stain your clothes
runs of ink down your arms, and your face
deep earth colors of brown or green
to neutralize the grey of atmosphere.

the seamen know better
shave hastily and throw dice on the wharf
rain rolls off their eyelashes
double sixes splashing mud on the patent leather
and shadows on the cobblestones
at dusk clouds roll out
the sun blurs the heat
and reds and oranges smear into oblivion
the sailors are back to imaginary depths
with their uniforms and ships
leave us here with humid light
and desirous hazy heat
we pick up their plastic wrappers
pick up their dice
and keep them in a pocket
(the one without the hole)
we still think throwing letters into the ocean is romantic.

but the seaglass green really is fierce
next to that sangria sky.

you kiss me, baby, in the coffee shop
you make me nervous, you gotta stop

Beautiful.

And I saw her again
for the first time in a year
the old eyes/lock/crowded room
while we were watching a band play
like in that fucking Sonic Youth video
we smiled to the sound of a theremin
and when they were done I told her
'Baby, you're the same as you ever was'
affecting the common tone I knew she liked
while you sat there and snickered
knowing what was on my mind

And she laughed and blushed and went to the bathroom
leaving me to my own thoughts
'I want this;
this is stupid,
I've done it all before!!!!'
and I asked you for advice
so you just said:
'We all need some relief sometime, Adrian
and I think you just found something
a little more comfortable
to slip into'
Well, you always have been horrible like that.

I left it there, I had no choice, I couldn't think straight at all
remembering the last time we were together,
which was the same as the time before:
at first it goes fantastic
then it goes not at all.
'Fuck it!' you cried
'You don't want any of that!
You just want somebody to hold you
then you home by dawn!'
Well, for you shit can be that simple
but I'm still too young for that kind of thing;
well, maybe too old now, I just can't do that all the same.

And right away I knew something was wrong
when she started sending me poetry
How someone can carry a metaphor
for dead flowers as lost love
I don't fucking know
But you just laughed and rubbed your hands and said
'You've got her where you want her now;
now's the chance to get her back
for all the pain she's done to you'
'You're a spiteful old fuck'
I gently replied
but you'd always been a bit like that

So I replied gently
with nondescript poems about urban angst
and existentialist isolation
you know, my standard bread-and-butter autopilot rant
and told her about my weekends
of decadence and sin
and abruptly she blurted
'I got the results of a biopsy,
can you come hold me for a while'

Well, this was just fucking perfect
it was all de ja vu to me
back to time in April last year
where I braved red paint to be by her side
for the death of a baby that was not mine
and all of a sudden you were quiet
where was your lewd advice now
but without you leering over my shoulder
I had no moral counterpoint
to base my decision on
and I'm still sitting here choosing
trying to decide which is right and which is wrong
but I fear it's all just shades of grey
and I hear you saying
'Hey, at least she won't be around very long'

You really are a bad fucking person, you know?

All virgins are liars, honey

You all make me scared to post any of my poetry. lol.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce"
Vanessa

It can't be any worse than mine!

All virgins are liars, honey

well, im in the middle of a bit of writers block..i cant seem to find any inspiration,a nd all of them sound silly, rather than deep. I have a few were..they arnt finished. I have tns of lil bits and peices, with out any real begining or end, does that make sense?

one that goes:

you were always something special
eyes the colour of a stream
with a smile fit for the devil
and a love like heavens dream

and from there......nothing!!

"I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce"
Vanessa

I can't believe you can be
so ignorant to what is happening
all around you
and within you is this inner peace
can't you understand?
this is not a gathering storm,
clouds on the horizon and eerie calm;
the hun is at the fucking barricades!
and we can either prepare to repel
or bunker down
and I think I know which you would prefer

But it is not that simple for me
I'm caught in between fight and flight
I want to run but there's nowhere to go
I want to resist but I've never known how
but you can't hide behind words your whole life
and they say that there's more to life than the books you've read
but how much more?

and when it all comes down
I'm still frozen in my place
and the enemy is at the gates
and the wolf is at the door
and all manner of cliches mount their attacks
but I'm still standing dead-eyed
doing things I could do some other time
But, nevertheless, feel all important now.

Do some work, Adrian

All virgins are liars, honey

At this time of the morning
I could believe anything was true;
I could think anything of me
and I could ask everything from you
but we're still just sitting here
waiting for something to happen
do you know what has passed between us?
did it mean anything to you?

At this time of night I could never get to sleep...

You know, there's room over here for two.

How many times before
Could you tell I didn't care?
When you reached out in your sleep
And you knew I wasn't there - New Order