all the clocks are smashed

Writing by Joseph C. "Art is Masturbation" was published in April, 2015 on Glory Kid LTD. I got old and lost my way.

[brickhomes]

No New Days

didn’t prepare for a life without

didn’t think very far ahead,

or about much at all

walked away from work

sitting on the piss floor bathroom

in ruin, absolutely fucked

movie quality, make sure to get the frame right

silent on the drive home

when the memories come calling

a belly drop, an urge, a reflex

punched through the roof and

crawled out to catch some air

woke up to the real world

too tired now,

so all the clocks are smashed

so there’s no new days

[brickhomes]

soft

one day you wake up and it feels good, or it feels less bad

it's sudden

but it feels less bad

one day you wake up and it hurts less

sad to consider that you could waste a decade being vengeful

or that you could spend a decade trying to get another decade back to replace the one you are in

or sad to remember turning away the good ones that come and go

do you think god could forgive us? or forgive you?

every time to sun goes down it hard to let go,

still it's easier to rise now than it has been

since some decade has come and gone

[brickhomes]

odd:

it doesn't hurt

up too late

cold in the forecast

no symptoms, but still the sickness

feral but happy

what are you looking at?

[brickhomes]

lying again:

running low

figure 8

they didn't respond

alone now

noises in the dark

waking up again

years too late

crescendos of your life

the bend and the break

forgetting something important

stranger to everyone

waiting

lying again

[brickhomes]

it likely means nothing, or not much of anything,

when a smell or a taste can zap one back in time for a moment

happens to everyone, must not mean much at all

highly doubtful that there is a deeper meaning to a common collective experience

but wouldn’t it be nice if it was special

if it was lonely

like a unique gift

[brickhomes]

weep for the work week

weep for the loss

weep for an understanding

weep for the long goodbye

weep for a time ago, a life ago

weep for convenience

weep for the yearning

weep for the self destroyed and rebuilt

weep for the cigarette

weep for the pounding in the night

weep for the commotion

weep for the ears ringing

weep for the eye’s burning

weep for your friend, depression

weep for your limbs

weep for a life wasted

weep for a building crashing, consolidated, preserved in the rubble, alone in a valley or desert, time moved the world past but here is the villain and hero. bubbled, protected, demolished but prestine. plants and animals live and die just outside. a lifetime isolated from a world that keeps growing.

[brickhomes]

everything moves very slow now,

turning the wheels

all, all, all alone

maybe it’s sunny outside

maybe the knock on your door won’t ever come

soon all will be young again

soon cracks in the earth will erupt and shift

it is not a forgiving thing, time

the deep feelings that swell and burst

never did matter much

at the end of it all

now children once more

[brickhomes]

lost,

lost,

lost

the lights were turned off

and,

we are all far, far away from each other

a quiet life now

with little of the goings on

that we imagined when we were young

God took away our youth

and asked us to fill in the blanks

now resigned to our bedrooms and jobs

now wandering, not aimless,

but with a purpose that simply

and shamefully

has no hope of being fulfilled

[brickhomes]

People You Used To Know

not much happening these days

sort of a low glow

sort of a haze covering the world

the works of men seem clouded

and boring

clocking in and clocking out

drinking into the early hours

forgetting what you did today, yesterday, everyday

plans shelved

kicking your feet in rhythm with the sounds of the cars passing by

asking yourself the same question over and over

how did I get here?

tired all the time, sore all the time

smiling but keeping a secret close

decided not to open up anymore,

but you broke your promise

new pills mixed with the old

not wondering about yourself

but checking in on the people you used to know

[brickhomes]

Same old, Same old:

loud, loud, loud

too cold in the morning

microwaved dinner

stoned on the patio

waving and smiling

another list

frustrated at work

sitting on the floor and hugging knees

thinking of the loss

pounding on the floor boards

back hurts, arms hurt, head hurts

are you looking up too?

do you see what I see?

are you looking back?

[brickhomes]

half limp, half walk.

coming home in the early hours.

a kiss and I’m sent to bed.

you’re on the couch.

half growl, half scoff

coming home in the early hours

no kiss and you’re off to bed.

i’m on the couch,

in defiance of the love you tried to give me.

long mornings, long sighs.

no dress up now. no songs, no dance.

cold bed, cold room. plants dying.

wake up and do it again.

held on too late.

[brickhomes]

People You Used To Know

not much happening these days

sort of a low glow

sort of a haze covering the world

the works of men seem clouded

and boring

clocking in and clocking out

drinking into the early hours

forgetting what you did today, yesterday, everyday

plans shelved

kicking your feet in rhythm with the sounds of the cars passing by

asking yourself the same question over and over

how did I get here?

tired all the time, sore all the time

smiling but keeping a secret close

decided not to open up anymore,

but you broke your promise

new pills mixed with the old

not wondering about yourself

but checking in on the people you used to know

[brickhomes]

Hello, I am well Thanks, HOW are you?

running out of money

grabbing coffee in the early morning

chalk on your clothes,

dirt under your eyelids

your cat coming out of hiding to ask for food

your boss checking in on you because you told him the truth

ruining your eardrums

ruining your own life

saying hello and goodbye and smiling

crisp work shirt,

hair still wet

the Super Bowl of being fucked and fucking everything in return

touch down,

mother fucker

[brickhomes]

there isn’t anyone, anywhere, anymore

there is just me

I’m standing out here

in the dark of it all

I’m standing at work

in the light of it all

I’m cornering myself

I’m pushing myself over edge

a chess piece, nudged slightly

I’m seeing everything for the first time

I’m feeling it all for the first time

I’m alone out here

in the light and in the dark

I’m screaming in the kitchen

I’m crying quietly outside

I’m smoking too much

I’m hating too much

I’m thinking about it too much

I’m frightened and I’m angry

it isn’t enough that you care

if there is a god in the sky

then I will never forgive him

[brickhomes]

if there was ever a future

suddenly with a snap, a bolt you shot up from the flood of memories bounding to your feet in defense, in shock alert, in attention you are haunting yourself you are prowling in the dark you are serving no one but yourself you are hiding from the world

[brickhomes]

worried: starting fresh looking through windows pondering death feeling rushed speaking loudly running folding laundry in the morning taking your pills vitamins fizzing in water drinking because you want to stories left unfinished missing the depression

[brickhomes]

when you wake

we don’t sleep with a curtain on our window, suppose it keeps us from sleeping in too late. we talked about it in a romantic way - being woken up by the sun and birds outside. maybe it was me who decided, you like your sleep more than most things. for a long while it took some getting used to, this life we have now. i was a stranger to all of this. never before have i willingly thrusted myself into something as challenging, to create something with another person. i have been many things in my life, but the constant has always been cowardice. i’m afraid of what’s to come, i’m afraid of what’s happening now. i’m afraid to change. the pills terrified me, i thought that if I wasn’t fucked up then i wasn’t being honest. for a long time i thought moving forward was really giving up. it’s sort of funny, now i have a hard time remembering what i was like before this new life. i’d like to think that i’m better now, better off too. but sometimes the change hits me and i feel out of place, and in the way. i take up so much space in this life of ours but i always feel real small. sometimes i feel that life passed me by. sometimes i feel like i nailed myself to the floor. other times when i wake in the morning i feel the warmth from all the love in the world in our white room, in our little apartment, in our quiet poor neighborhood. i just want you to be proud of me.