"I've Been Dreaming"

-I think I'll make them into song lyrics for a mostly instrumental song. It would be fun. :]

At night, I lay in sleep as if,
you were there with me.
And I've been dreaming,
'bout the end of the world.
About nuclear war.
And I've been dreaming about you.

"This Morning"

-I'm pretty satisfied with this one. Although, I think the first stanza is the weakest part.

Dawn breaks over me
and I wake from a dream.
In which I chased you
all the way to St. Louis.
And in a grove of green
I did lift you off your feet.
We cradled one another
In the fading, golden eve.
Then you did whisper to me,
"With every fiber of my being."

Sunlight pierces through the blinds.
Open wide my weary eyes.
and I listen for a moment
as the radiator hums along
with the sound of the new dawn.
Weakly rattling in vain
to keep this tired morning soul
protected from retreating cold.
Then I welcome the sun
smiling through my window.

This is where I remember,
when the light-giver's rays
touch my skin so gently,
Your presence like the surf
at dawn breaking on the beach,
how it washes over me.
I recall the curves of your body,
so simple, yet sublime.
Your bronze skin, alive with light.
Chasing shadows away
With but the shine of your eyes.

This morning, I miss you.

"I'll Be There"

The rain pounds the windows,
makes them weepy with the drops.
And my heart is like this beach house,
empty, but for the things I could save:
Newspapers, some old books, the letters you wrote.

I look out at the churning sea,
and mutter, "Neptune must be angry,"
Then I wonder if you'll ever,
come walking back through my door.
God, I'd love to see those eyes again.

Lean against the glass,
feel the cold against my skin.
I sigh, the window greys with fog.
Trace the letters of your name,
In the cloud of condensation.

This is all I can do for now.
I could write it all down,
but I can't find a way
that doesn't lack purpose,
to tell you that I love you.

But even if you came around,
and I let you in again, would you stay?
Would you stay and let me know,
all the things I never knew?
Take me to places, I could never go?

I'll let you stay here with me,
lay your head on my chest, get some sleep.
You're so weary dear, it's time to rest.
No need to fear, sleepless nights again.
I'll be there, I'll be there.

-Herm...I'm kind of iffy on this one. I've been wanting to write something for hours, but I'm not satisfied with it. It loses its luster after the second stanza (or somewhere around there).

"Late Night Laundry"

He sways to the music,
As he’s folding his clothes,
And he’s thinking of things,
He may never get to know.
Like where he is and,
Where he wants to go.

His friend is on the floor,
Headphones on his head.
Humming along with,
Some unheard song.
The room is stuffy,
Even with the window open.

And he saw your picture
Pixelated on his screen.
“Hey you, blue eyes.”
Smiles back at the photograph.
Sighs with regrets and,
Folds a pair of socks.

-Agh...I wanted to add more to this, but I couldn't find the words. I might be trying to hard to tie it all together coherently instead of just rambling. I'd like to, but it'd all come out in a confusing mess. I don't think I'd find anything to say even if I could. I want to understand what's going on around me and not be left here to assume and build my hopes up, only to have them toppled down. Blech...I'm tired...

-Matt

"A Soliloquy"

The start of a chuckle,
escapes into the room,
where white-lined paper,
coats the cold floor,
like a carpet made of words,
lines, letters, sentences and phrases.
A pile of pencils, all broken;
The pens no longer work.
"So this is what you want, huh?
Break your own heart upon the floor,
steer your own vessel into ground?
Hah! Do not blame me.
I wasn't asleep at the wheel.
Write it down! Write it-"
Hand freezes over dead quills.
"Oh..."
Paper cuts coat his fingers.
"Piece it back together,
but it won't be the same.
Pretend to let me go.
Lie to yourself, you will,
until you believe it's true."
Picks a picture from the papers,
"Oh dear, your face still haunts me.
And I've become that ghoul,
emerging from the shadows,
to seize your heart.
Reach through your breast,
where my fingers feel cold,
grip your life-center and squeeze.
But when you look,
it will be your your own face, you see.
Not me!"
A whisper, hoarse and haunting.
"Oh sweetie, what a love you gave me,
without trust, you hid your feelings!"
He shouts to the ceiling:
"Oh, how I gave you everything!
And woe, why do I believe,
You are something extraordinary?
How do I manage to believe,
You are strong and the girl I see?"
He laughs,
"What a lie I have concocted!
The foolish ideal, that she and me,
are destined to be!
Yet still I believe!"
With that, sinks to his knees.
"And yet I love you.
Like a sweet, sweet melody,
singing me to sleep.
Oh, Troubled Beauty,
Don't you love me?
Dearest, can you return in time?"
A tear.

-This isn't even really a poem. I guess that's why I titled it "A Soliloquy." It's kind of melodramatic I guess. :\

I don't even have a title for this piece of crap.

I woke up early again,
This time, on accident.
I had a dream again.
I watched the sky,
And the stars began to spin,
And then I saw a UFO.

I'm so tired lately.
I’m not sure why.
You’re in all my dreams.
It that what it is?
Can you let me sleep?
Can we forget each other,
So I won’t have to feel,
Like a jerk when I,
Say something stupid?
So sick of hurting you.
Just forget me.
I wish we’d fall again,
But it’s not likely.
The times I wish you, were gone,
Are the times I wish, you had stayed.

-I really don't like it.

I do like these, however:

"I Feel Like Going Home" by Yo La Tengo lyrics

He calls me to the ocean
Takes me wandering through the street
A restless imagination
But for now, I move my feet on the ground
'Cause I feel like going home

I can float above the ceiling
I like drifting through the air
I tend to lose my concentration
But right now, the cries don't appeal to me
I feel like going home

Sometimes late at night
While runnin' from the rain
Running from the voices
Filling up my brain
Now I wish they'd leave me alone
And let me be
To grow up on my own
Let me be to go home
I feel like going home

"My Asthma, Miasma! (The Cigarettes She Smoked As a Teen to Ease Her Stress)"

By himself he sits,
on the bleachers' steel,
He wants to run with them,
the kids all caught up,
in their game of tag;
capture the flag.

He closes his eyes,
smoke curls in his mind.
Twisting like grey snakes,
from his mother's fingers.

Asthma, inhaler,
the things she gave him,
a childhood hindered by,
lungs too weak to breathe.
"Did you think of me,
when you were sixteen?"
He asks the breeze.

"Why couldn't you quit,
before you were addicted?"

-Matt

This one was fun to write. It's about a kid who got asthma because his mother was a smoker. He's wondering what it'd be like if she hadn't. If she had quit. Instead of letting her self-destructive behavior get the best of her. Cigarettes and alcohol don't make people stronger...They just kill them faster.