No Junk Bonds

[3 separate poems all written today]

As I sit naked for a moment
After being violently woken
By sunlight breaking and entering
Into my red eye.
Every muscle agony cries large flames.
I’m sitting here naked mid-way through tomorrow
And I think, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

---

This – is – internalized.
This battle uphill
Rages in my psyche
Its why sometimes
You can find me
Cussing out shadows
Breaking air with my hands bare
Convulsing slightly in my bed at 3:33am
(that’s when my evil comes out).
Its why sometimes
When you all want to talk
Derailed trains and speeding cars
My mouth seems stuck shut.

It’s why I walk alone
Its why companions
Are harder to come by
Than the honest in Los Angeles
(they’ve gotta be here somewhere)
It’s why I don’t invest
In junk bonds like
Plastic People INC.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

---

On these faux-gold walkways
“Please and Thank You” ’s
Will get yer teeth knocked
The fuck
Out.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

[cheers]

EX

These two pieces are related - originally part of one whole but then separated (seems fitting haha)

When I told my mother
Ive never met anyone
Who could keep up with me
She told me:
Stop running.

When I called her by her first name;
The way I always do - always will,
And told her with plain words:
Im not running—
Just walking
While everyone else lays down
She laughed.

And its raining – almost x-mas;
Emphasis on EX because
We dumped the Jesus Christ out
And replaced him with light trees and
Presents that last about as long as love
And that’s never very long these days.
Honestly, this season brews atomic bombs in my gut
Then sets of mutant chain reactions in my head.
Why?
Because everyone gets so nostalgic
About whoever they’ve loved since last year—
And it makes me sick cos
-They all dropped and broke
Like fine china hurtled to stone floors.
Hey!
Realize this:
Our hearts are that stone tiling
That china?
Yeh, its true love;
Crippled and codependent
And it’s so one-dimensional.
But it’s the prettiest thing
You’ve ever let slip by.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

---

When I got home today
I found a new message from an ex-lover.
You know the one: the girl you loved
Fervently briefly then
Threw on the floor and walked out
Into the blizzard.
And I won’t lie to you all
That yeh, I looked back
And yep. I kept walking.
Now its 2 days before what would’ve been
A one-year anniversary if I hadn’t
Aborted the mission halfway
(And I don’t regret leaving)
It was inevitable
Like burning the bridge
Back to a broken home.
So I,
Home now with this message
A lurking shadow in my dark,
Sit here mother’s words ringing:
Stop running
Stop running.
But Mum, it’s the only way
This world keeps turning.
So, I do what I do the very best
Run
Its why I live this lonely life.
Don’t feel flattered, honey—
There’s enough people
That I have cut from my life to fill
A big smiling peace loving country.
This just works best for both of us.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

ghost

I have no reason to carry on
Goodbyes and hellos
Are now equilaterally related
Joints, alcohol, and everything else
Breeds the most transient friends
It never lasts when you’re sober
Hello, it was nice knowing you.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

102007

It brings in the colours.

Is this how everythings supposed to look:
Bright?
More luminous than the ash sun?

Is this how you see the world:
Do colours leap of surfaces
Into your soft eyes
Spilling onto your retina
Flowing down your optic nerve
Soaking into your brain
Where it’s translated into
True love?

Because I see the world
In 18% grey
All rainy days
And when that rain
Hits my synapses
It’s translated into
Lost love.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Also, I really want to go to an existing/ start a poetry reading.
Contact me if you're interested.

Snickers anyone?

Dinner
I’m hungry
But I hate eating alone
I’ve got text on a screen
Representing a companion
But I don’t ask
Because I am horrid
At dinner table conversation
Somewhere in my childhood
I befouled my parent’s sacred table
Repeatedly and without shame
And now I am socially crippled.


Dinner 2
I think I’m hungry
I’m having an internalized
Debate on whether to take the fall
And go out for dinner
But then, I ask myself, who with?
Tables are awkwardly built
For two these days.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.