011308

I can’t write
There’s no fuel
There’s no flame
There’s no want—
desire. passion. hate. love. angst.
I’m an overcast second
In twilight.
The sun. no longer. rises.
The sun. no longer. sets.
Everything seems aquiver
The earth is a twitching muscle
On a boy’s un-kissed lips
Moments before. IMPACT.
This continual limbo state
Where everything. hangs.
As if life were on pause
While the viewers
Retrieve. fatty. foods.
Actively. forgetting.
They too. have been paused.
By overweight viewers.

© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

1229-3007

Seems these days that I write more than one poem a day and I dont title anything anymore so everything is just gunna turn into dates - whatever. I divide each poem by a little line and a copyright thing. Thanks for reading.

---

122907am(3)
I want to pull
HAND CANONS
Out of my sweatshirt
And paint the word “LOVE”
With bullets and bullet holes
Wait… ive got it all wrong you say?
O dear,
I better take these clips
Out of my hand canons
I better erase what I know
About the word “LOVE”

::START OVER::
I want to give
HAND CANONS
To preschoolers
Chewing gum mid-play
And then have them
All
DROP IT
So that peace
Could be possible
someday
and love
could find a way.

Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

---

123007(am)
Dim the conversations
Echoing inside your head
Make them like these rooms
Only half lit by naked bulbs
Make them something
Seen and not heard
Take those words
Dropping off mind lips
And hang them up
Effervescent and lovely
Recycled from the day’s
Worth of words we hear.
The song plays background
Filler:
Do you still remember
When we were little
We would play in the park
And you asked what happens
When we die
I SAID we forget everything.
It reminds me of
A childhood in London
The circling streets
The swarms of crowds
The day trips to the park
Where I would run
And run and climb trees
Where even the dingy city
Seemed to be ablaze
With summer light
And the car rides home
Streets moving like a slideshow of
Black and white photography
Depicting city
Painting loneliness
Screaming desperation
Crying inherited sorrow.

This is where we go

**Song lyrics from Ólafur Arnald’s “Himinnin er ad hrynja”

Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Subjectivity and Objectivity

102507
It is 2 a m
And I am seeing
Through these new eyes:
It has just dawned
Upon my small mind
That the world
Is subjective
Important, why?
Because it means
I am in control
This show is mine
You won’t hold me
Down any longer.
Someone embedded
Victory in my name
And I’ve been fighting
Since my birth. Since
Then I’ve crawled
Through hell and shit water
Through hate and true love
And I just came out 
From that tunnel
At the edge of
My existence
Where I saw objectivity die as I stood above
the tunnel’s mouth in the kind of expanse 
that threads the dreams of those who see 
only what is shown
And it was there
That I moved to
The subjective world
Where I make the
R
          U
                    L
E
          S
                    E
L
          U 
                    R
U
          L
                    E
S
          E
                    L
U 
          R        
                    U
L
          E

                    S.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Life

It is not that the grass is greener here
It is just that it is a different shade
Because life is not lived
Inside a 50s black and white
Television show
Not at all!
It is lived in colour:
Infinite shades from
Infinite hues.
Although at times
I wish it wasn’t
This way.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Heres a secret: I feel very alone all the time. . .but sshh