Liar

You never hear the expression lip-tied because it's always your tongue
I've never been conventional
you see I can't even get the words to the tip of my tongue enough for it to be tied
My heart just keeps telling my head, "Hey Kid you lied. You lied to yourself today"
My head gets confused and starts feeling abused by thoughts it was told not to think like the underage temptation of drinks
then my heart keeps crying "liar liar! Don't all these lies make you perspire at some point? Won't you ever tell the truth?"
Lies keep coming like tickets at a booth
that you never paid for
your emotions are never insured
even when your heart keeps screaming about your lies until you're insane
wishing you could hide in everything that's mundane
giving up the chance at adventure and risk
there's nothing here
until you start hearing that voice again and you finally shout
what is my conviction? where do my lies lie? Emotions just hide; they don't die.
You can keep harassing me but I know that you're right
I live every day and I lie every night
not only in my bed but in my own head
Yes, I lie to myself
on a constant basis
I am a liar to all of the familiar faces in my life
Because no one knows that I strive to quit being lip-tied more than anything
I just want to tell you what I mean
When you're on the other line of the phone and all you can say is her name
I can't help but feel anything less than shame
and I tuck away my feelings like dirty magazines under the bed
no one needs to know they're there right? I can just let them gather cobwebs instead.
I can just keep writing poems that no one will read
setting standards that the world just won't heed
being a leader for followers who lead
I am sick with malaria of the mind and alzheimers of the heart
because I force myself to forget that I wanted you
and my heart screams liar
as loud as it can
and I hit the snooze button for five more minutes...

you're everything....now if only you would notice....

I wish that you could understand
the heaviness of your words
when you say things that are doled out to me
Like maple syrup
waves of intensity covered in molasses intentions
I wonder if you wish that I'd
take a leap of faith
Cliff jumping is just as hard for me
I can feel wind running like smooth water
left rib to right rib
feels like fingers that I wish would curl around mine
as if you could mold new Frida Kahlo fingerprints
with intelligent eyes and a sunshine mind
clearer than the Aurora Borealis
I feel thoughts like children's swings
the wonderings
of how much you think of me
the lonely afternoons you describe
I wonder how much I'm on your mind
You are Pablo Neruda amongst Stephanie Meyers
The Southern sanctity to Northside fires
you are a solace of James Brown soul
next to secular sins we sooth our commercial ears with
You are my caffeinated Coca-Cola in a midnight cram
the kind of person who make me stand up and shout
Yes I am
I am proud of the life I lead
the beats I bleed
the poetry I roll and knead into
the bread of knowledge
that crushes your wining back into grapes
keeping privacy behind drapes
the Cyd Charisse class I will own till the day
I dance upstairs; foxtrot out of my grave
you keep me there
Even when it's war of the worlds outside
When people terrorize our souls
till we're soldiers refusing to die
You remind me that there's things worth the fight
You said you loved cruelty and cruelty is not unrequited
In loving you too even when it was uninvited
Unexpected
Unknown
to your expectations
I untied the knots in your thread
Where you embroidered roads to the wrong
I began to resew until the patterns flowed into art
You see a whole can't be torn apart
And the rainbow routes on your maps are all I need
to recap how I feel and patch up my wheels
to follow your heart with mine
It's not a race
I'm only asking if you wouldn't mind
Sharing the precious commodity of Carpe Diem
Time.
So I can fine tune my feelings into poems
Rhyme
My heart will confess to you like a jukebox that's been waiting for
Dimes
I just want you to know
that you're a New York skyline
even though nobody's ever told you before
It's because they were scared
to piss you off
Because someday you'll rule the world
Bigger than Tom Cruise or Al Gore
and I'll be here waiting for that day
You'll be standing on tables and I'll have tickets for the floor
Hoping you'll remember those lonely afternoons when I thought of you
Knowing I un-knotted your maps
Remembering that cruelty loves nothing more than your company

whore-ku's (aka a bunch of haikus about skanky girls)

high school girls; odd clothes
booty shorts and boots are wrong
please pick a season

penciled on eyebrows
your lipliner is too thick
scary chola face

Cell phone in your shirt
answering calls is awkward
much buzzing cleavage

You think you look like
Christina Aguilera
Actually, no.

Please pull up your pants
Your thong is unattractive
No bueno; butt-crack

Looking like Ke$ha
with tangled hair gets you
Christmas gift: hairbrush

when you dance like a
stripper named leggy lucy
I assume you're paid

Your chin is so huge
you should buy it insurance
For when I punch it

Your boyfriend did lie
That denim makes you look huge
Like a bloated cow

Your pants are too small
Your muffintop is awful
Please wear the right size

Saggy boobs; so nasty
Did you learn that from grandma?
Wear a bra, sandbags.

Clubbin'; low-cut dress
Did you plan your cleavage,girl?
Everyone sees it.

bell toll

First poem of the blog. Bonzai. Hope you enjoy.

Oblivion over your eyes like that hood on your jacket
you hide behind it
when it rains
'cause fear is scarier than pain
you'd rather waste away and stay the same

Mission Statement

I have started this blog with a mission in mind; I want to post my work and see if I can get some people to read it. Short, sweet, and probably senseless to some of you. Like a Kerouac haiku. Now as for the name of the blog...I thought it was catchy and true but not in a physical aspect of  "pretty". I meant, more along the lines of I am daintier and perhaps a little less morbid than good ole Sylvia. And y'know....I don't really want to bake my brain into a cake anytime soon. I mean no disrespect at all. I LOVE Sylvia Plath. Even though she was cra-cra. I hope she doesn't think my blog is stupid.