ojovivo
almost home
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Show & Tell
taylor price
macklin celebrini has autism
The Stonewall Inn
if i look back, i am lost
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
art blog(derogatory)
hello vonnie
Cosmic Funnies
Love Begins
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Misplaced Lens Cap
oozey mess
RMH
EXPECTATIONS
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@twothreefourwordvomit-blog
Anamorphic
You spoiled this thing, this thing with hair, varnished and quaint.
With gums and teeth you cut open and took out.
You put them into the animal, thought you were right.
Join the hunt, create to destroy.
It’s in our blood, life carrying seeds with hellish purpose.
But you cannot kill what you did not create.
Disconnect
I am too connected, I say.
End come too soon.
Lasting but never felt.
In a way rotten, held on.
I say, disconnect.
The ballad of a standard, living in a tidal wave 9 ‘til eternity
End come too soon.
Dream about yesterday, you’re better than today.
Lay
You lay next to a skeleton. A vessel to plant your marigolds. Scrape off the ageing. Fill it’s ribs with dirt. Grow your love. Create life.
Breath
Softly, you play.
You breathe and count your steps.
The essence that you breathe into the air around your head, we walk in this essence -
Of the brave, the reckless, the useless, the smart, and the proud.
Every word is a breath that we walk through.
Every word is in our lungs.
Swan
Sit cross-legged. Think about it.
Is the mind being fed? Or is it full on all of the shit?
Recreate the figure of a swan.
Do you feel an elegance? Or is your wingspan all but gone?
These words make no fucking sense to your eyes, so why are you trying to understand?
Reconnection is a life long dream, only when time is up will you actually understand what you have seen.
Carcasses
Will everything look so beautiful when the world ends?
Will the sky stay blue?
Will leaves still dance?
Will despair impair our sight?
Will love deteriorate?
Will we remember what we had?
What was finally important?
What we didn't do?
Will we burn?
Post - End
Before my time, I won’t succeed.
I won’t pick myself up, or try again.
In the words of no one - I won’t reach my diamonds in the sky.
The piano won’t play.
The clouds will drink away their sorrows and pass out in a stupor of fog.
Create swampland, let the waste flow into your lungs.
I was either pissed off or high
I love classical music, clouds moving slowly, dancing and corroding to a symphony. They take forms in a way that we can only gaze up and adore. Imagining, from way down on grassy hilltops. Watching them makes me love life and hate people that much more. Cigarettes are colonising around my feet, but my friends smoke oxygen. Being as free as the moon, I can't help but feel someday I'll hate too much and take it out on myself. But that's when I look up at the clouds and everything is okay, at a glance, everything is okay. Get me out into the sky. Drown me, away from my ways.
I See Self
There is a mirror in my room.
I see self.
The more I look.
I need help.
This mirror in my room.
Exact reflection.
A “must try harder” post-it note.
Covers every section.
It's There
The Grey is in a sombre mood today.
The Grey is holding off.
But it hides, it hides so well that sometimes I forget that it's there.
It IS there.
The Grey has lost all of it's friends.
The Grey doesn't want to communicate.
Just as I see happiness, The Grey will cry and shout and claw itself out of my insides.
I've tried to kill it, but it doesn't go away.
Soundproof Globe
I've realised that I have a soundproof globe around my head. If I don't want to hear it, I will not listen. I'll cover my ears, I'll battle your noise, I will do everything in my power to disable your words, to disarm and surpass you. Arguments, phone calls, sex. Give me internal voices, give me an unforgiving entity. Anything to plead ignorant.
Hanging
Sometimes I wish that I was hanging. That the weight of my blood filled my toes and I could remain a shell of myself. Like an emptied oyster, a decoration for keepsake. Family would mourn, friends would come forward, eternal light would last. A celebration of an illness that claimed victory.
It is so difficult to write something when you don’t even know how to pile up your thoughts accordingly and you literally can’t express anything by words.
Seeing Your Breath
Winter seems to give my mind a buzz, inspiration comes thick from the air.
Nicer shapes are formed, birds sing brighter songs, the sun is trying it's best.
The work is harder, but the end is always nearer.
Waking up feels like an accomplishment, seeing your breath released from your body feels satisfying.
A hit of nostalgia takes you back to having a bad cold when you were a kid, being looked after and going outside in a thousand layers, nose running.
Winter is beautiful.
fuck.
FUCKING THIS. THANK YOU. I’ve been looking for something to describe how i feel, and i’ve found it.
sometimes it’s cool when my poems get notes but then i post stuff like this and when it gets popular i get really sad bc too many people understand what i wrote about and wow i just wish you didn’t feel like this and i’m sorry if you do.
Everybody's got themselves a plan, Everybody thinks they'll be the man, including the girls. The musicians who lack the friends to form a band are singer-songwriters, The rest of us are DJ's or official club photographers. And tonight I'm playing another Nambucca show, So I'm going through my phonebook, texting everyone I know, And I quite a few I don't, whose numbers found their way into my phone, But they might come along anyway, you never really know. None of this is going anywhere Pretty soon we'll all be old, And no one left alive will really care About our glory days, when we sold our souls. But if you're all about the destination, then take a fucking flight. We're going nowhere slowly, but we're seeing all the sights. And we're definitely going to hell, But we'll have all the best stories to tell.
Frank Turner - The Ballad Of Me And My Friends
Didn't Think So
The copper hurts, if you don't have the time it's,
Out of reach, like a broken machine I doubt,
You'll be steady now, now you're one with the breeze I,
Will figure out, how to fix this, my queen.
Hit the wall again, and the wall of my heart it cracks,
My love, for your will is to find the signs,
Of a better life, a life that you need to bury me,
With this machine.
