...the safest course is to do nothing against one's conscience. With this secret, we can enjoy life and have no fear from death.

Perhaps a stranger she could love

In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond, I know
she's used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel

Her Morning Elegance, or, What I Will Never See

And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass.

And the days are not full enough by Ezra Pound

It hurts more than you'd think

Hello and sorry.
We havn’t spoken lately have we?
I’ve been too busy being selfish
digging around in my own sodden mine,
not thinking about you and things
you are also looking for.
It’s very difficult you see.
Sometimes, I just have to go
into myself, burrowing through
the lumps and bumps - digging
beneath my own world.
You know what?
The very next words
will be just for
you.

Apology by Stonepoem

I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.

let them take you
for your money
for your heart
even for
the body
part
let them have
the lion's share
of all

and hide
what's left
in iridescent dreams
and milk-white
memories
of who we are
and what
could be

Disengage by w.c. pelon

You've got those lips that were meant to be kissed

It’s the way you look at me
And actually listen
Like you could understand
And comprehend
Who I am
All that I wish I could be
Watching you pay attention
I start to believe
That things could get better

You should know it makes a difference

Noticed by Hayley Cafarella

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more

Sebastian's Voodoo by Joaquin Baldwin

We must be careful about what we pretend to be.

I've watched this city burn twice
in my lifetime
and the most notable thing
was the arrival of the
politicians in the
aftermath
proclaiming the wrongs of
the system
and demanding new
policies toward and for the
poor.

nothing was corrected last
time.
nothing will be corrected this
time.

the poor will remain poor.
the unemployed will remain
so.
the homeless will remain
homeless

and the politicians,
fat upon the land, will live
very well.

The Riots by Charles Bukowski

The worst of grief sets in some time after the initial shock.

Pour the unhappiness out
From your too bitter heart,
Which grieving will not sweeten.

Poison grows in this dark.
It is in the water of tears
Its black blooms rise.

The magnificent cause of being,
The imagination, the one reality
In this imagined world

Leaves you
With him for whom no phantasy moves,
And you are pierced by a death.

Another Weeping Woman by Wallace Stevens.

I wish that could be me, but it's just not possible

If you take a step, I will make you sure that you take the next
If you tell a lie, I'll just nod my head, yeah, I'll let it slide
Cause you woke me up, and there's birds outside, and I still feel drunk
But I'm glad you did, cause last night you weren't making that much sense.

You said you wanna die, now you say you wanna live
You said you loved me after fourty five minutes
If this is all a game can you just say it is?
I'll do it anyway, so it makes no difference

We should order up, wash the wine out of the coffee cup
They got bread and fruit, there's probably not much else for you.
We can lay around, you can kiss me til the maids come kick us out.

It's eleven now so make every second count
But back in New York they can't ever find this out
There are things we do, that we're really not allowed
We can say anything, but we just can't say it loud.

I hope you always find someone to take you home
To put you into bed, kiss your cheek, and check your pulse
Make sure you're still breathing, with their hand up to your nose
I wish that could be me, but it's just not possible.

Breakfast in Bed by Dntel

"I just hope he knows where he's going." -- "He knows."

Glory at Sea directed by Benh Zeitlin

This short film is brilliant on so many levels. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

I'd like to know, I'd really like to know

Just don't forget
that it's dumb luck that got you here
Don't fool yourself
misfortunes waiting for the best time to appear
to make it clear
that all the courage and the talent that you had
was just in dreams
and when you wake up
you will beg to get it back
to get it back

You interest your friends
They will betray you
with the love that's blinding
and then at the end they may admit
that you were missing something
and no one remembers even one word that left your mouth
All the melodies were stolen
from songs by someone else

You're out of time
and inspiration filled with self-pity and fear
and all the dreams that haven't dried up
are slowly drowning in your tears
in your tears

Just don't forget
that it's dumb luck that got you here
Don't fool yourself
misfortunes waiting for the best time to appear
to make it clear
that all the courage and the talent that you have
was just in dreams
and when you wake up
you will beg to get it back
to get it back

Dumb Luck by Dntel

I love that you share everything with me, especially your heart.

"I still don't love you." -- "That's okay. I don't have a heart anymore."

Death To The Tinman directed by Ray Tintori

I see brilliance in this short film. Almost looks and sounds like the work of Wes Anderson.

Now he occupies the blur as well

Id Engager (Mad Decent Remix) by Of Montreal

In tremendous fear I secretly go on living.

Because she wants to touch him,
she moves away.
Because she wants to talk to him,
she keeps silent.
Because she wants to kiss him,
she turns away
& kisses a man she does not want to kiss.

He watches
thinking she does not want him.
He listens
hearing her silence.
He turns away
thinking her distant
& kisses a girl he does not want to kiss.

They marry each other--
a four-way mistake.
He goes to bed with his wife
thinking of her.
She goes to bed with her husband
thinking of him.
--& all this in a real old-fashioned four-poster bed.

Do they live unhappily ever after?
Of course.
Do they undo their mistakes ever?
Never.
Who is the victim here?
Love is the victim.
Who is the villain?
Love that never dies.

Parable of the Four-Poster by Erica Mann Jong

For each age is a dream that is dying, or one that is coming to birth.

What can I say to you, darling,
When you ask me for help?
I do not even know the future
Or even what poetry
We are going to write.
Commit suicide. Go mad. Better people
Than either of us have tried it.
I loved you once but
I do not know the future.
I only know that I love strength in my friends
And greatness
And hate the way their bodies crack when they die
And are eaten by images.
The fun’s over. The picnic’s over.
Go mad. Commit suicide. There will be nothing left
After you die or go mad,
But the calmness of poetry.

A Poem Without a Single Bird in It by Jack Spicer

When asking why their kisses are sorrowful, remember the howl of our first verse

Cough Syrup by The Jakes

Alone, awake and thinking of the weekend we were in love

On The Wing by Owl City

Only on the outside

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Danger - 19H11

I'm sorry that I'm such a coward and can't
talk to you. I'm dreadfully sorry for
leaving you like you are and leaving me
how I am. I'm sorry for the thoughts you
must be thinking and the words I make you
say. And I'm sorry that I can't be there
to help you and you can't be here to help
me. For the nightmares you must be having
and for the feelings you must be sharing
alone. For the nights I've spent with her
and not with you, the promises I'm no
longer keeping, the regrets I'm piling up.
I'm sorry that it's not only you I'm letting
down; it's also me.

For it's also me lying in sorrow by Calvin

(please help me find her)

Suspicion by Hexes & Ohs

It's hard to stand the sight of two dogs dead under a sky so blue.

Dead Dogs Two by cLOUDDEAD

Hmmm, how does Friday night sound to you? Would you like to hang out? Would you like to get lost with me?

I don't know who you are. I'll never see you, or speak to you, or share my life with you, but know this...

(My 1st) Big Break by Cut Chemist

secrets from the winds, burnt stars crying

The moment
the pills
took control of
your body (but left
your soul
to rot),
the remains of my
body (and
my soul)
were scattered
across the places we
had visited,
forever to rest
(and maybe
to rot).

(to rot) by Calvin

It lasts for always.

The strange rabbit stopped dancing, and came quite close. He came so close this time that his long whiskers brushed the Velveteen Rabbit's ear, and then he wrinkled his nose suddenly and flattened his ears and jumped backwards.

"He doesn't smell right!" he exclaimed. "He isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!"

"I am Real!" said the little Rabbit. "I am Real! The Boy said so!" And he nearly began to cry.

Just then there was a sound of footsteps, and the Boy ran past near them, and with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails the two strange rabbits disappeared.

"Come back and play with me!" called the little Rabbit. "Oh, do come back! I know I am Real!"

But there was no answer, only the little ants ran to and fro, and the bracken swayed gently where the two strangers had passed. The Velveteen Rabbit was all alone.

"Oh, dear!" he thought. "Why did they run away like that? Why couldn't they stop and talk to me?"

For a long time he lay very still, watching the bracken, and hoping that they would come back. But they never returned, and presently the sun sank lower and the little white moths fluttered out.

Excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

The trash-filled streets made me wish we were headed home

Children,
Broadripple is burning
And the girls are getting sick
Off huffing glue up in the bathroom
While their boyfriends pick up chicks
And darling, I'm lost
I heard you whispering that night in Fountain Square
The trash-filled streets made me wish we were headed home

And there was love inside the basement
Where that woman used to lie
In a sleeping bag we shared upon
The floor most every night
And darling, I'm drunk
And everything that I have loved has turned to stone
So pack your bags
And come back home

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

And if my woman was a fire
She'd burn out before I wake
And be replaced by pints of whiskey
Cigarettes and outer space
Then somebody moves
And everything you thought you had has gone to shit
But we've got a lot
Don't ever forget that

And I wrote this on an airplane
Where the people looked like ants
And when a woman that you loved is gone
She's bombing east Japan

Don't fucking move
'Cause everything you think you have will go to shit
But we've got a lot
Don't you dare forget that

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

And I'm wasted
You can taste it
Don't look at me that way
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

Broadripple Is Burning by Margot & the Nuclear So and So's

I'm mostly just shy.

I can still get nervous
when I talk to you
even though we've dated
for a year or two
every time I stare
I notice something new
and abandon all hopes
of impressing you
I struggle with words
that I've always known
I get self-conscious of my voice
on the telephone
you tell me how you love me
every night before bed
and I turn out the lights
as my face turns red

sometimes it's hard to stay still
when you're moving close to me
my eyes they open wider
more color in my cheeks
I'm usually so pale
until you mess with my heartbeat
you turn me red
turning red
I'm turning red

my hands still get sweaty
when you're holding them
my clothes feel kind of tight
although I'm sure they fit
when we go out at night
sometimes I wish we'd stayed in
I feel like everyone is thinking
what's she doing with him?

every date feels like
the first one
and I can't wait 'til we meet
kick my feet under the table
when we sit down to eat
I don't know how to ask you
will you come home with me?
I'm turning red
turning red
I'm turning red

sometimes it's hard to stay still
when you're moving close to me
my eyes they open wider
more color in my cheeks
I'm usually so pale
until you mess with my heartbeat
I'm turning red
turning red
I'm turning red

I love it when you're playful
you tease me constantly
you're surprisingly insightful
when you embarrass me
and you can feel safe
in my arms
but safe's not what I need
you turn me red
turning red
I'm turning red

Turning Red by Dntel

The universe and a pulse

You can feel it quake
the very bones of you
if you breathe the cold
air carefully
enough.

Something born, stuttering
and rattling
inside of you,
wanting the night --
breathe
harder.

The stars will shine brighter
through the clouds of the sky,
but the moon will
still
thrive.
The sounds traveling by wind
will slowly whisper away,
leaving only silence
the world
has never heard.

What the Night Does to Me by Calvin

What have I become, my sweetest friend?

As the phone clicks,
our conversation and our relationship
ended. Her final words raced laps
through my head.

Why did she say that?
I asked myself, but
I could think of no answer. I
collapsed, sobbing.

"For ever,"
I heard her say,
over and over again,
forever.

Forever by Calvin

Stranger, do you feel cold?

"It was just a New Year's kiss.
And it was only for the day. The holiday.

Just a kiss.

It was some boy; there were no feelings -- there was no emotion tied with it.
Why don't you fucking understand that?
Not everything has to have meaning to it,"
she
tells
me.

And that, my dear, is why
you will
never
understand.

The Difference by Calvin