stuck in motiontailgatecan't go slowerstalematestuck in trafficmotionlesscar goes forwardhopelessbrake checktruck wreckboth car's totaledwhat'd you expect?
opinions are funnysubjective entirelyfrom the lips of those unfamiliarutterly worthlessfrom the lips of those close to my heartpotentially murderousI stand on a bridge, not a stageeverything is on fireI sweatthis is importantnot a performance no, a race, a race to get off this bridge
drip scrub sita wet coalescence of my soulgangly, confined, soap lidshampoo on my noseMy mind is loudest in that white spaceTime seems to wait for me outsideI like the noiseBut all things endeven my hour long showers
These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,And happy units of a numerous herdOf playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,Mocking the sunshine in their glittering wings,How merrily they creep, and run, and fly!No kin they bear to labour's drudgery,Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose;And where they fly for dinner no one knows--The dew-drops feed them not--they love the shineOf noon, whose sun may bring them golden wine.All day they're playing in their Sunday dress--Till night goes sleep, and they can do no less;Then, to the heath bell's silken hood they fly,And like to princes in their slumbers lie,
HE crawls to the cliff and plays on a brinkWhere every eye but his own would shrink;No music he hears but the billow’s noise,And shells and weeds are his only toys.No lullaby can the mother findTo sing him to rest like the moaning wind;And the louder it wails and the fiercer it sweeps,The deeper he breathes and the sounder he sleeps.And now his wandering feet can reachThe rugged tracks of the desolate beach;Creeping about like a Triton imp,To find the haunts of the crab and shrimp.He clings, with none to guide or help,To the furthest ridge of slippery kelp;And his bold heart glows while he stands and mocksThe seamew’s cry on the jutting rocks.
You hate me and I hate you.And we are so polite, we two !But whenever I see you, I burst apartAnd scatter the sky with my blazing heart.It spits and sparkles in stars and balls.Buds into roses — and flares, and falls.Scarlet buttons, and pale green disks,Silver spirals and asterisks.Shoot and tremble in a mistPeppered with mauve and amethyst.I shine in the windows and light up the trees.And all because I hate you, if you please.And when you meet me, you rend asunderAnd go up in a flaming wonderOf saffron cubes, and crimson moons.And wheels all amaranths and maroons.