Hey Valentine

...the flowers of the arctic
the moon
arrows. I am asleep I can't be dreaming.

Universal spindle thread around ring fingers--it's growing.
The pale cool canvas=glowing.
Heart fought its way from a warm white cage

stopsign arithmetic!

Her father, the aviator
Her voice woke the stars, night's victory.

Shangri-La

Well your friends are all wrong,
I've subscribed to what's right.
Because our world is filmed in black and white.
And a perfect god isn't colorblind.
So what makes you think you've earned his delight?

And the white live forever,
while the black dine in hell.
There's no doctor for the sick, so pray that you're well.
If you have any questions just follow the bells.
To the church where perfect people have a story to sell.

You see...

There's this god who wants you to work for what's yours.
And keep it out of the hands of the sick and the poor,
Who would stop their own hearts, just to decrease their chore.
And gods love is reserved for those who've earned more.

More money to throw loudly in the offering plate,
or use it buy flashy jesus displays.
(that scream) Thank god, I've got so much in my bank.
I made more than some countries and to christ i give thanks.

The value of the heart sinks to move to the ground,
pushing with a fervor that's probably found.
In the noise, the numbers and equations we drowned.
Beneath the city lights and the battlecry sound.

Oh America, who will weep for you, if you don't weep for yourself.
My eyes are as dry as anybody else.

"Blessed are the poor for theirs is the kingdom of heaven"
~Messiah.

The Bride, The Carriage, The Beast in the Ocean.

Science is easy with a conscience offset.
Rape the world of art and beauty, just add up what's left.
Like waiting for the fallout in hiroshima to set.
It's pointless without the pills.

Numbers and figures held my head underneath.
the limits of reason's great barrier reef.
From the bottom there's really no point to this reach,
for what we'll die before we have.

While water was filling my lungs with nonsense,
I thought all this profit wasn't quite worth the expense.
I'd go home but the killer's still asleep in my bed,
and I'm not in the mood to fight.

The spheres move in such circles around heaven that,
their trajectories are patterns of a world that was flat.
Before painting it seemed to dissonantly contrast.
The idea of what would be truth.

...for my life.

We killed her and buried her.

insensitive war vanity sunrise

summer shock
in storm its gone
it was always there all along
he walks with the sheltered
the scent of the dead
upon entering his house
surrendering his flesh
a golden stake reflection
this agony film
the light to the world blurred by
airwave flirtation

This body is as cold as a tomb
breathing injustice like cigarette smoke into the womb
the son of tomorrow dragged dirt in the room
and fell into his body between two prostitutes

hang up your fucking coat

Aviator Migraine.

monster.
religion.
lovedeath.
to passion.
decreasing.
creative.
the darknesseatsshit.
transforming.
battlegrounds.
logic is useless.
quantitive estimation
silenced the heart.

Minima

Their march had led them to the gates,
the final maneuver of a dark campaign.
Their armies had filled the angel's halls,
while the cannon screamed "hatred" against it's wall.

This is a war
{beloved}
this is a crusade.

His drive had led him to her door,
their clothes, now in foxholes, on the floor.
The carpet heralded the shells in tears,
I bet it's cold (where you are) this time of year.

If this tundra's your escape
then misery moves in such a way
that her stomach isn't full until it's choked down the last of land
my poor reaction is off I know
but sadness just sinks in snow
and buries itself deeper than you or I had planned.