chicken wing dinner

chicken wing dinner with
pitchfork men stalking about
remembering the "good ol' days"
10 snowy miles and a
couple a pennies in the pocket
chicken wing dinner with
asphalt movers
chasing down dreams
in beat up '57 chevys
chicken wing dinner with
porchswings fellas and their
bee-bop and skittlitity-dat-dat
shooomba-dat-dat
stale on their breath
chicken wing dinner under
fast food nation law
cell phones and big gulps
television world
i'll take divas for 400 please

it was sweet

a diamond ring shines through the bulletproof glass
laden with glances, stares and smeared fingerprints daily.
he sees his faint reflection among the rubies in the showcase
knowing full well he will one day share the wealth
his current-day endeavors provide
with the next strung-out crackwhore that comes along
but accidents happen sometimes
and you mistake coke for water
and a face for a soft bed at night
and a pillow for a rollingpin
and it all goes downhill from there

unless sweet did it

blue backpack blues

i only see you from afar now
but every day

any hunched back, any
small frame, any blue pack
my heart leaps a little
....maybe its you

and maybe i can finally say hi again
to the name i cannot stop saying to myself
for no particular reason
over and over
inside these cranial walls
even in the most mundane or simple of times

but if it is truly you in the distance
i'll probably look away,
put the headphones back on,
play green eyes
and maybe for the next 3 and a half minutes
i'll forget what color yours are.

and i can stop repeating your name

but as soon as chris martin belts out the chorus of the next track
"...the truth is...I miss you" ...

I'll breakdown again

i think i think too much
im staring at a photograph i havent seen in awhile
naivand youthfulness, synonymous with the times
i was unsure of
i think one day i'll look back on it all and wonder if it was all worth it
and i'll know when i see that smile
in that photograph i'll still have stored away somewhere
it damn well was

the fortune cookie

the fortune cookie read
"im just glad to know people like you exist"
and hippies, travelers, lawyers, and doctors agree
words just dont cut it.
because the new excitement felt was just that
new.
confused feelings portrayed outward
with the troubled times and upcoming exit sign
and the word forever.
but like any other, the fortune was discarded, set aside
with leftover newspapers and faintly seasoned chicken
next to a plate too big for one man to consume alone
but just enough for two to enjoy comfortably,
exchange conversation among the distorted radiation, blurred vision, ketchup stains and tainted water,
and exit
hand in hand
sharing a smile only they will understand.

my mannequin arms

some say the stars will dance up and down the floor.
wine will flow with the spotlight that shines on those
worthy of the glow,
eager enough to try
drifting
with the currents of our bodies
our minds
and our hearts.
and some say the truth lies in whats left unsaid
that time propels us down the ultimate path
for friendship
for love
for happiness
and so i set my glass aside
and i think to myself to them
i bet you could hit a golf ball clear through
the oculus of that building over there,
or spot colorful flags blazing through the sky,
but i bet you'll never experience what i have
here
within these city walls
because on this rooftop overlooking statues of fallen men
among the mannequins sorry enough to view them
you move alone.

the phyrst night of the rest nights

a stale cigarette rest between my fingers
visions o of past lives and past concerts floating through my head
roger waters is singing blissful melodies
the lights are flashing and i'm reminded of a girl i used to know
the streets are lonesome tongiht
but i have a crew
and future aspirations
and a sense of belonging
tomorrow i will hike the great mt. nittany
and become one
with the land i so care to forget about.

i tried tonight but nothing came out.

its almost 3 now and ive sat here 15 minutes. ill try to sleep but i know i wont. i wish i could, i wish i had the words to describe my scrambled thoughts. i shall try again tomorrow

late night thoughts

I was talking to a friend today, steve, about life after college i guess youd say. I sorta got the impression through the past 4 years of knowing and hanging out with the guy that he was all about the ae life, he works hard so i sorta thought he was one of those guys that loved the major, loved what he did in school and loved what he would become. we got to shooting some pool today and talking and it became apparent my assumptions were wrong. let me give you some background if you dont know the guy....hes had a g/f (slang for girlfriend) for the past like 4 yrs, as long as ive known him and they seem like a great couple from what ive seen. anyway we get to talking and he says to me that when he talks to jess after hes done with class and shes done work, she'll ask him sometimes "so how was work", to which he'll reply "it was work i really dont wanna talk about it." and i thought yeah. hell yeah. that right thats what ive been all about for the past...like 5 yrs. Its not what you do at work that defines you, but what you do outside of work, on your off time that can really make you happy. you go to work for a paycheck. you get paid to do the things you dont like so you can pay for the things you like. and that made total sense to me. absolutely. until i got home. i thought about this. ive been feeling this way for some time now so its something not easy to disagree with. but when i really think about it....lets be honest most of us spend 40hours + at work every week. we're gonna have to like it at least a little bit to be doing it. (bvon i hope things are working out for you at camp, rossman i hope you enjoy ipods and chicks from home depot)...i got into this major 5 yrs ago, thinking i could make a difference, thinking i could be among the greatest in engineering, come up with new and innovative techniques, discover better and easier methods, blah blah blah. but then i matured. i realized what truly mattered in life. i realized what truly made me happy. and although im not truly happy right now, i know what i want, i know what i need and nothing in the engineering world can provide that.......well maybe. because im going to spend what looks like the majority of my life in it, i better like it a little. right? and i realized that its not the job, its not the money, its not the company that brings me happiness but being able to share those little moments with other people that sorta feel the same way as i do that brings me the happiness i so desperately need. Its sharing the laughs, the smiles, the inside jokes with someone else that has interests so aligned with you it seems almost unreal.....that really makes it all worth it. and i dont really know where im going with this but i just finished but first technical report of the semester, which leaves me a clear 2 behind everyone else(cept t. yost). And me and my major and the people in it have such a love-hate relationship that some days i spend dawn to dusk working and other days it pains me too much to go to one class. and i dont know if everything will really work out for me in the end. im 23 and i have no clue what im doing with my life. (if youre with me can i get an amen!) but i do know that as much as i hate thinking about the future and hate thinking about what i might become, i know that i want to be able to share the hardships, the ups and downs and the little stupid things at work with someone else because if im not going to have a good time at work, i at least want to make fun of the guys that are.

thanks for list-ning

melodies/melodrama

a perfect night
alone on the roof of
my brothers accord
playing a kids game.
plane or star?
crickets orchestrating simple melodies volumizing the still air.
an empty mobile dangling
on a string on the end of
my fingers swell with
the anticipation of hope.
sunshine that may never come
even on this mystical night
when i can do no wrong
or speak no evil
the blood on my knuckles is proof
i am immortal.
but all i can think about is how that stupid pawprint
looks mighty cute on you're car

poem

I wrote you a poem today
it said something about the wind
and the sound a wave makes on a barren rock bed and about how you're perfect
but i stuffed a poem in my pocket today
it said something about life
and maturing and how i'd like to really love someday
and i glanced at that poem again today
and thought how all the booze and barbells can't fix a truly shattered soul
but i threw a poem away today
it said something about the past and mistakes and regret and how i'm really not alright
but someday i will be

clockwork

staring fear strait in the eye
he looks more worn today
his eyes show of a man twice his age
weary from the cold nights
alone
tinted sunglasses once a part of his life
laying in the green grass
from peek a boo to hide and go seek to kick the can
these days of glory long since passed
only left with reminants
and memories
and regrets
and an barren bathroom

he has but a sliver of light
in this dark dark place
shining through
and accenting the hidden features
held deep under barriers and boundaries
and skin far too thin

o the illumination!
his contacts only intensify the burning
his body feels every day
shine shine shine
and leave this darkness for the day
and
burn burn burn
show me the world you love
and i'll show you a world
now consumed by
heartbreaks and hangovers

night drive

Oh no
The memories patting gently on your heart
shrug it off, shrug it off
We must continue, change is evil
oh no
The road is so black this evening
the lanes unrecognizable
the dashboard left behind miles ago
thoughts are on the menu tonight oh no
the past as an appetizer, the present the main course
What are you really thinking about when
transatlanticism blares from the stereo
and all the periphery comes into focus
i need you so much closer
...
i need you so much closer
who?
i need you so much closer
...oh no
we shall not cry tonight!
who do you really want
when the honda is a hearse
and you ride one last ride
side by side
with another

one and a half men

the infinate possibilities of boredom
glowing in a tiny prosaic box
a commonplace occurance at east cherry
an entertainer he is in public
but he'll laugh you in the face behind closed doors
mocking your every move, your every
wrong step,
every failure.
he offers no words of wisdom
no guidance to the lost souls following him
he'll only lead blindly, but creatively
(with perfectly timed entrances and one-liners that could satisfy the saddest men)
until we're all
blind
and can stare into his eyes no more.
open a window and close a door!
and shout to the world
I'm Back

seeing things

these eyes have seen the glories on the diamond,
the way a ball can bounce perfectly off the top coping
hover for anticipation effects
and land to make a boy smile, a mother cry and a team celebrate

these eyes have seen the sunrise glow
over the face of god himself
here on earth
alone and perfectly peaceful in a land far from home but close to heart

these eyes have seen struggles of eight hour exams
once thought inpossible
become a source of relief and pride
and a sense of accomplishment and worth

these eyes have seen the perfect panorama
on a beach so barren and beautiful
with water clear down to the reefs below
and nothing but leisure on the mind

these eyes have seen the beauty in many
but none compare to the beauty contained in that little spot of floor tile
stained and shattered
i stared at the first time
your arms linked securly around me
and i saw what perfect really was

The Jaunt

a large trashcan
a fir placed upon a curb
the grass, his eyes both damp
overcoats and chapstick his only barriers
a long cold night
unanswered calls

a deep biting wind
a moon, a mirror and memories
all haunting.

a destination with empty pockets
and a loose grip on reality.

native landscapes captured by
bridges, builders, boundaries.
the humming of rotation and routine.
the blazing fumes of boredom
and the faint smell of gasoline.

a vacant parking lot
with a no parking sign
and only time to think
to adjust
to realize

depression and despair replaced by
headlights and hope
sleep and cereal

sunlight making its way out of the night sky
a familiar face, a smile



a familiar face

a life, a sneeze

i spied upon their world
an observer of the delicacies of life
known to them as simply
"the head"
i watched as they struggled
as their life became routine
they were the working type you see
never stopping to smell the roses
always a task to perform
savages!
they too were savages
savages i say!
always stealing the crumbs of others
and hauling them overhead back into their little holes
but to me
an observer
it was fascinating
and they stayed in their own little world
hibernating from anything offensive
anything troubling
only emerging occasionally to nab a morsel
dropped by another
they were so deliberate
until "the head" got a nostril tickle
and sneezed their whole world away

if you ask me why

heads bobbling back and forth
aimless chit chat surrounds but
one gift remains unopened
the anticipation dripping from my shaking fingers
just one more chance
in hopes of upperdeck, or possibly tops
i sit and calmly await the arrival.
but when the baseball cards was replaced by a
clock radio
dissapointment wrote itself across my face
for all to see
cuz when when there's something you really want
there is no substitution

i still have the clock radio but
its got a little wear and tear
it's a little outdated
a few parts have fallen to the grim fate that awaits us all
age.

and i never really cared much for the radio
and i still don't
it was always just there.
i received commitment on that september morning
when what i really wanted
was passion
so when you ask me why i'll
wait
for something that may never come
i'll tell you i don't want another clock radio

and the baseball cards are probably not the
best example,
later i might be disinterested, aloof, uncaring
and maybe i'd wonder
"what happened to the good ol days"
or maybe i'd wonder
"are these cards really the right thing for me"
but at least i'd know
i loved them at one time

maybe we all just need something we truely love every now and then.