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[alive-poets-club]

Do you remember when life used to be easy

Mornings were soft and vivid

Felt like they presented new possibilities

Trees were tall and proud like our friend's eyes

Not a single trace of tiredom or disappointment

Our bikes were worn out yet beautiful

Our hearts were satisfied

Our minds empty

But that was not the case for me

It never has been

Life was destined

To be a pain in the arse .

[alive-poets-club]

I can't feel it, I can't touch it.

Love was never meant to be easy

Or explainable

Some philosophers will argue

But I bet they know deep inside

That humans prefer crawling

Than walking .

[alive-poets-club]

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[alive-poets-club]

Revolution is slower than death

I keep thinking of love in the form you perceive it ;

Lusty, temporary and young

I keep thinking I wanna change and be like you ;

Cool, knowledgeable and careless

But my past's shadows are present every night

My sheets are unclean , my hair messy , my life has no direction

I breathe the morning air and I think of bleach

I remember your tiny fingers and the moment you felt the shaved side of my head

And I breathe the morning air again

And I think of lavender.

[alive-poets-club]

Dead Long Before You Came

What if I cry for you and keep my door unlocked

Let you stay where lovers pray for time to be more soft

It’s no use watering my flowers while I am gone

Quench your thirst for tenderness with memories of the dawn

All that is now it’s ruined and what’s left

Is stolen away by those who kept

The glimpse of your eyes the dust from your soul

You said I was dead

I was dead long before

You came.

[alive-poets-club]

So before we turn into ash can you pretend we were something something that had a body and a voice screaming every friday night shaking every sunday morning So before we become food for the soil can you at least admit we once fed each other the holiest treats of all;

tenderness

[alive-poets-club]

A sentimentalist is simply one who

wants to have the luxury of an emotion

without paying for it.

-Oscar Wilde [De profundis]

[alive-poets-club]

I wanna be the floor you walk

I wanna be the socks you wear

I wanna be the toothbrush you use everyday

I wanna be your bathtub

Please let me be your bathtub

Then maybe I will be able to forget

The promises you made

Just to watch them break

[alive-poets-club]

I was thinking

Sadness is the only thing that lasts and keeps us alive

No matter how everyone likes to dislike that fact 

Sadness is pure and not deceiving

You can not doubt it , it's there and you feel it

and have every reason to feel it however deep you want

So go fucking deep

Don't listen to the crap they say

Oh you are miserable , you are dramatic , you are always sad

Fuck you cunts, why would I be anything else

What exactly is happy? I mean can anyone say what happiness is?

Can anyone describe it or even recognize it?

It seems to me that we are more familiar with hell rather than paradise , even the word hell is more appealing

I have been happy , but with happiness comes doubt and questions

With sadness comes drinking, calls you shouldn't have made, words you shouldn't have said, lovers you shouldn't have loved , empty beds, cigarettes, closure

Choose sadness and go all the way

Feel it as deep as the ocean

Let it cover your lungs

Let it fuck your brain

Till you know its face damn well

And the next time you're laying on the grass on a Sunday afternoon

Think to yourself

O that day I was fucking sad

But today the sun is on my side

[alive-poets-club]

[alive-poets-club]

Legs, legs, legs

When I see girls I only see legs

Then if the music behind the bar is good

I notice the mouth

Most of the times it is disappointing

So I say to myself

Next time stick to the legs

Funny little things

Long or short , thin or well shaped

How could anyone be attracted to legs ?

Maybe it is not a manner of attraction

But a manner of distraction

For sometimes legs are just more interesting than minds

or words, or mannerisms , or inventive ways to impress that often fail

Legs not hands

Hands can touch

but legs can run

[alive-poets-club]

alone with everybody

the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but they keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.

  there’s no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate.

  nobody ever finds the one.

  the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill

nothing else fills.

-Charles Bukowski [ Love is a dog from hell ]

[alive-poets-club]

and it is dawn

the world

goes forth to murder dreams....

and it is day,

in the mirror

i see a frail

man

dreaming

dreams

[alive-poets-club]

I swear I am gonna fucking explode in the fucking train

You know I don’t like crowds and I dont like mess

But I have become a thief for you my sweet love ;

For the gap between your breasts means more than the blood inside my veins

3  2  1

I was dead long before we met .

[alive-poets-club]

we are for each other:then

laugh, leaning back in my arms

for life’s not a paragraph

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And death i think is no parenthesis

-e.e. cummings [1926]

[alive-poets-club]

It felt like our August evenings

won't be boring

anymore

.

.

.

[alive-poets-club]

3:52 . . .