what i am and am not

i've been burying my secrets
cause today's secret agents are of the chemical persuasion
robots believe in false dreams due to chemical equations
and i can't seem to shake these dreams
of falling leaves and flowing streams
carrying agents of devastation
contributing to my own degradation
i sense that death's been losing his patience
we've been hoarding the miracles
and something's gotten jealous
we ignored the cries, believed in lies
but silent artists tried to tell us
we can't carry on through darkness so strong
with both eyes sewn shut we'll never make it
singing our songs we'll carry on
claiming happiness comes if you fake it
it's that kind of thing that when you see you take it
tired of the games played out by the dying
stockpiling truths that no one else is buying
recalling a history that seems best forgot
thickening the line between what i am and am not
erasing a past that can't be forgot
what is the difference between what i am and am not?

spray painted spirals

hands waving panic
man's paving manic roadways to black holes in the horizon
spray painting sunsets in spirals of light
injected intelligence, dripped from the stars
twilight embraces forgotten in a midnight dance
circles overlapping circles making patterns in the sand
we never question where we lay our heads to rest
silent silhouettes gracing darkened alleys
like passionate art piercing granite hearts in some upscale deathbed gallery
where the moon's been masked by light pollution
but the werewolves still own the streets
with both hands waving manic
man's paving manic roadways to constellations
silent minds to a kind of galactic concentration
injecting intelligence collected from the stars
thoughts to form an understanding of what we really are
spray painted spirals spread across the horizon
invoking emotions when closing eyes
and breathing in salt, rolling sand between toes
perceiving starlight that no one else knows
circles overlapping circles intertwined with circles
forming patterns in our lives and leaving spirals in our minds...

Paper Hearts

you spread your love on paper cards just one day of the year
you sing your sorrow in glass rooms where no one else can hear
while seven million widowed faces slowly fill with tears
just as painfully they replace all your hopes with fears
snowflakes fall upon your brow and quickly melt to rain
hiding tear drops from strangers, can't let them see your pain
you want to go, you want to stay, but nothing's stayed the same
lost in thought, you get lost on walks and sometimes feel insane
desperate lovers cling to each other in the winter's cold embrace
getting caught in eyes, they trace the lines that form to compose a face
tripping over lips, the tips of tongues are scraping teeth
heavy hearts of passion, the world is crushed beneath
under stars that paint silver screens onto the night
leaving memories of shaking knees and failing light
a little saint shooting arrows, we all know this to be myth
ask the twin flame soul-mate why he chose the one he's with
when paper hearts fall from February skies
turn yourself inside out and shake out all the lies
open your eyes and realize the prize of holding a love uncompromised.

murder is the new magic

if you squint your eyes just right you can see the word "hell" in the hollywood sign.
the papers bleed disease into the filthy streets
believers on their knees pleading for what is needed
to cleanse those souls, make the broken whole
no matter the toll they'll get those rocks to roll
murder's the new magic that mesmerizes the masses
on blue screens feeding violence fiends
who bottle inside emotions, false pride
ending up as volatile as a full platoon on acid deep in the jungles of vietnam
just feed them pills, keep them still
the screen instills the will to kill
but i guess the medications can supress all those destructive tendencies
violence replaces silence and now the night never provides enough cover
the immunities comes too soon and the pills lose their kick
the communities resume the boom and the master cracks his whip
the programmed have become dependant and now there's no reason to fight it
we've doused our lifestyles in gasoline, we've got the match but dare not light it
and anyone with a flame the crowd is quick to blame
drench them in shame and destroy their name
convince the robots that anyone who thinks like that is insane
the sunset releases the careless onto the streets
the night air absorbing the asphalts hoarded heat
the working class resting their tired feet
and i'm alone on a rooftop dreaming of a day when murder is not a form of currency
a day when murder no longer mesmerizes the masses more than all this natural magic
a day when my child can walk through the harshest of ghettos and receive nothing but smiles
a day that ends without me grinding my teeth as i fall asleep
blaming it on chemical imbalances when i know it's just the knowledge i keep
i guess insanity is nothing more than the understanding of truths neglected by soceity.