If you wrap yourself in daffodils,
I will wrap myself in pain
And if you're the Queen of California,
Then baby, I am the King of the Rain
Murder_of_One
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Name: Paul
Country: United States
State: Pennsylvania
Metro: Bethlehem
Birthday: 5/27/1989
Gender: Male


Interests: Writing, singing, acting, living, loving


Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM: Cojiro527
MSN: the.rain.king@hotmail.com


Member Since: 1/14/2006

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Sunday, January 27, 2008



Lol, neat site.


Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Cafés and Memories

"There are times that walk from you,
like some passing afternoon..."
So begins the poet, but he'll end his song too soon.

Does it calm his restless soul
to be sought and loved by all?
Or in his somber voice is there a hidden wish to fall?

Will our spirits always lift
every time we hear his gift?
His smile seems to fade as every grain of sand time sifts.

When his older years blow cold,
and each friend of his grows old,
we hope he might remember every story that he told.

And the Songbird used to say
"All romantics pass this way,"
Lonely, disillusioned in some empty dark café.

We cannot give up this fight
When his verses turn to spite
He does not seem to love, but if we ask him, he just might

open not his wings to fly,
but his eyes, that he might cry
years of feeling not quite full, and never knowing why.

There are softer summers yet,
and we pray till eyes are wet
that love may come remind him what the years made him forget.

All the sins that he outlived
maybe then he could forgive;
cautiously set down the weight that wouldn't let him live.

When his years have reached the grays
of his "Endless Numbered Days"
May he smile upon the art that set his youth ablaze,
with someone sitting next to him in candle-lit cafés.


~Written while I should have been studying ap statistics


(The first two lines are also the first two of an
Iron and Wine song, and this poem has the same meter as the song.
The "Songbird" is Joni Mitchell, whose song "The Last Time I saw Richard"
mentions romantics sharing the same fate, wasting away in dark cafés.)


Monday, October 16, 2006

my words a bitter tempest
                             (a dove in storm)
me pouring like god leaking from eyes raining
                             (not yours)
i lead you to worry


i speak pain and you could feel it
                              (a heart in storm)
me hurting like life recalling from you feeling
                              (set me free)
your own come creeping in


i don't mean to pour so much out
                              (a ship in storm)
love leaking like wine pouring from glass wasting
                              (my vintage)
with a few drops for us


but soon a ship sails the waters
                              (ride on through)
boat soaring like waters parting from hero leading
                              (calming seas)
the chosen people home


when all dust settles down
                              (a dove out of rain)
water clearing like fog parting from storm drifting
                              (sailor's fatigue)
i am at peace.



(It's not always so bad, you know?)
(original)
(Paul)
(comment.)


Tuesday, October 03, 2006

I dial her with my modern cellular phone, and demand to know where beauty has gone.

"Oh, my dear," she responds, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but beauty died years ago."

***

"And so it was, a greivious shame,
But so it came to be
that the innocent were slaughtered
while the guilty were set free."

***

For real, now. Last weekend I went to a wedding. It was on the beach. Everything was beautiful.

I spent a good deal of time with my grandfather on my father's side. He may be my favorite person in the world.

The night before we left to come home I went down to the beach just after midnight. "Walked long the edge of where the ocean meets the land just like your walking on a wire in the circus." That sort of thing. I sat, played guitar and sang, admired the moon and sea and stones and shells and sand. It was very surreal, and certainly romantic. Stayed up until about 3, just listening to the music and the waves. Absolutely gorgeous.

I did a whole lot of thinking, which usually isn't good for me. Stirred up some emotional dust, now I'm seeing where I settle. We'll see, huh? So if I seem really depressed, don't be alarmed or anything, I'm just a little unstable. bear with me. Oh, and sorry for the depressing mood of the first two things up there I wrote. The Muse must be a little unstable as well. =P

Homecoming court is announced tomorrow. I expect a popularity contest, of course, but if I'm on the court that'll be pretty sweet. I wouldn't want to be announced king, but I think I'd like to be on the court. Again, we'll see!

 
Bear with me, people of Xanga. Whoever you are. Good job for sticking around with this decadent community of ours, haha.

-Paul


Thursday, September 28, 2006

Smothering his cigar subly in a tray at his side, the gentlemen spoke a cadence of wisdom, learned from years of playing The Game.

"Your avarice and lust for power led you to abandon every value you had. Your pursuit has left you without a friend, but instead, the most sinister of enemies. As you face your death, please tell me... How will your deception help you now?"

A smile curled on the Kaizer's lips, but dissappointment glistened in his eyes.

"Markov... You have betrayed me."



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