Hands

This is where they built the trees
inside
and growing roots through your feet
You told me they don't need watering
and my hands shook them dry
dusty
cracked
hard

My hands can't shake out
all your roots
in their need
to be planted
in the firmest soil
to turn you in
and still make you beautiful

My hands covered
in dirt
can't dig this hole
so deep to keep you stable
from blowing in the storm
but they bleed to try

Your roots have been exposed
to the air
without water
or soil
for so long
spilling from your body
and now these hands were forced
to build
a city
around you
with tall walls
and skyscrapers
A place for you to live
but never leave

or at least not without
the destruction of what
my hands have built
an awful city
to hide the truth
just because we know
you'd prefer it
to stay hidden
and rotting
refusing
the help of my hands
to plant you again
and let you grow

My hands have built what grows from your feet
to your mouth
and now they bleed again
in anticipation
to plant you deep
in a far corner of the woods
away from your polluted city
where we'll pray to hear you whisper again
in hope
and happiness
and love
and nothing else.

Or Because

There is evil inside you
and death
not forward or obvious
but creeping
through cheated lips
wanting
or waiting
to hurt someone
hurt him
or
rather me

Trapped and wishing
for discontinued voices
pseudo strong
and never letting on
because you
or
I
could eat the meat of her heart
if only to stay alive
for a few more
seconds
like when
a head is severed
to feel the pain

You are not here to save me
I am not so sweet
You are not here to save me
I am not so safe

Not healthy
or so destructive
to start
hating
before the injury
or assume
without direction
as the sun sets south
you are lost

Cliche and under appreciated
as a boy speaks
the words of a genius
or
once again
I speak
how I am not me
or drowning
in your scent
during
sweaty sex
with a ghost
or a drug
I haven't mentioned
your name to

I have not let you save me
assuming I might need it
because I am
a monster
man made in fear
due to other monsters

or because

You are not so sweet
You are not so safe
or
should I say I?

Lies like Pangaea

There is a back to everything
like what you sleep on
after attempts at disappearing
sick of hauls.

I've been sick for weeks
wishing you were
coughing up blood stained with my name.
But
forgotten and dead.

I don't want to hate
when I am never there
or
however
when you can't believe
the direction of the wind
blowing out the fire
and building walls
for
I think you are a liar.

New and used
in each night
like dark skin
impressed with foreign lips
and big eyes.

Sick sick sick
of pretending
to be an island
but I am
an island more like
Pangaea
wanting to be connected
together and whole.
No distance I can't run to
no oceans in between.

U.S.A. and Australia
parted and distant
at least not at war with each other
however far
so I cannot run
and I will not travel
because I am sick.

Two More

I was cleaning my room yesterday, preparing to move out and I found some old stuff I wrote. I think these two work well together. These were both probably written somewhere around 6 months to a year ago. It's late, I'm tired, but this is still happening. I'm keeping these in my back pocket to maybe look over and edit later but this is them right now. They didn't have titles until just now.


The Ground

I know I will keep
coming back to you
but I could never be the one
to pick you up and force a take off.
Because you've loved too many
before me.
And your heart's
all rusted and mine's all cracked.
Like plow trucks and pavement
always scrapping against each other.
It might be another six months
but I always know I'll see you
again.
Again when it gets cold.
Like the snow returning to the ground.
I'll be the snow
returning to the ground.
We both know I'll melt
away and leave you alone.
Just the sun to keep you warm.
I am not the sun. No, I am not the sun.







Crucified Couples

Everyone's always asking how we're doing
when they're passing out drinks.
But my girl spends her time in the bathroom
and on the ride home
she says the lights are too bright.

Everyone hates what shes become
but we can't stand everyone's expectations
and we won't pick them up,
like dog shit.

I got a degree but work for free.
I show respect for garbage men and construction workers.
Making something outta nothing.
My girl only likes me
because I pay her for the drinks
she brings me.
My friend's girls are having babies
they can't afford, because they always
gotta fuck when they're drunk.

Life's not a sitcom, it's an after school special.
It's so special because everyone dies.
Crucifixion, lies, addiction, highs, masked intention.

Advice

Everyone seems to have their own opinion about what I should do with my life. I haven't heard a solid one yet.

New Direction Continued

This is something that I literally just wrote.

Superficial

I remember when you talked and I decided I liked your hair.
I remember when you wore a lot of eye make-up and I thought it was sexy
so as you talked I stared into your eyes.
I remember when you wore new earrings
and as you talked I watched them dangle.
I remember when you wore that tight black dress
when we talked at the wedding.
I remember the way your teeth looked sweet
as you spoke to me.
I remember when I held your body
as you whispered into my ear.
I remember that low cut sweater
from when you yelled at me.
I remember the way you smelled
while you used your hands to talk to me.
I remember when we talked as we held hands
and I couldn't believe how soft your skin was.

I don't remember a word you said.







Just wrote this one too. No justice, train of thought, too many people considered here.


Halfway to Back Home

It’s when the eyes have you
crushed under bricks
and eating a load of shit that you don’t need
keep talking and wasting
telling yourself it’s all right
like everything you believe is just a rationalization
because you could burn for this
and that’s what these dreams are about
women or girls
dollars or cents
they’d think this is not the way
you were raised
but most would never speak
of all the words they know
you run by and by in your thoughts
feeling as if one might just crack the skin on your forehead
then pour out and you
can use it as ink
to write that letter you never finished
because she liked you more when you were like her
talking about yourself
and all your accomplishments
and what you’re going to become
status is her attraction
not some gloomy rejection from that paper
like caring for you could matter
send her away
packing
with her Italian boyfriend
and his cheap suites
fuck him
not like she does
but fuck him
and punch his mouth
until you can feel his teeth cut into
your fists
as they poke through from
his upper lip
then kiss him and her and say you love them
because you are always pathetically sorry after
any sort of destruction
however so happy they’re hurt
and let her know
the big city makes your hair stink honey
and I’m not buying you anything
or any word you say
I know I’m very pretty
but I didn’t have enough of what you wanted
or maybe I was too old

A New Direction

A friend told me a few times to stop using my blog just to write posts about bands and that maybe I should use it for something else too, maybe something a little more personal. So this is whats happening. At one time in my life I was writing a lot of shit (not shitty stuff, just stuff) and I stopped for a while because I just couldn't seem to connect or feel anything the way I wanted to, and you can't force yourself to write about something you think you are feeling. I think that's the worst, not feeling anything, I am really in to the ups and downs and when I couldn't feel these things everything was a monotonous joke.
Within the last few weeks the sky has opened up and devoured a lot of my thinking and I have been reading some of my old "poetry." I've also felt like writing again and I think some things are bound to pour out real soon. Mind you, this is just how I feel now: like everyone enjoys spending there time wanting to know how I think or feel and that I AM really important. I usually go back and forth on feeling like sharing my thoughts might matter, but now I feel like this is it, the final time when I just let it all out there and accept the fact that I am a great thinker and if some people don't see that then they can write it in their own shitty little notebook. Don't mind my mind.
Here is a new direction, two pieces each update, and updates more often.

Here is one I wrote my last year of college:

Skin

She says, “If not the sun
then let the rain drown you.”
Is there hope in drowning
when you can’t breath
in the first place?
Suffocated by anxiety, jealousy, frustration.
Is it lust?
Is it love?
Is it the passages your mother hopes to read?

None of these bring a showing of teeth;
Only once,
they fall out from bleeding gums and
Cracked, sore lips
full of cheat.
She attempts to strangle you
with influence
as she hints at death
from a split and poisoned tongue.
You boil over with self-hatred.

Turn it around.

Turn. IT. Around.

Bring the wolves home with you.
They claw down the door
and shatter windows
as they jump through
with snarling fangs, flowing strings of spit,
stomachs ready to devour your doubter.
Lead them to her hiding place.
Watch as they rip out her neck
and peel the skin fresh from her bones.

Is this your victory?
Mixed up in fur, blood, spit, and skin.
She will meet the man she’s hinted at so often.
You are not jealous, envious, or hateful.
You have graced death,
touched his leather cloak
made from the skin of lepers,
and loved him.




This is one I wrote about a year ago, when my cousin thought I was genius and asked for some of my writings.

Wreckage


Broken since birth is what they said.
Their sympathy is a cheap fix,
full of soft hands and moist eyes.

Many words have built the foundation,
only to see it crumble
under pressure from demanded perfection.

It's when the door is opened
and visitors take a look inside;
They see a presumed sturdy home
Weaker than they'd like to believe
A floor plan they can't understand,
unattractive decorations.

Attempts at repair become futile
A fear the tools will rust
if the truth rains down.
No one has been able to repair this for 24 years.





* These may have been posted in other areas before but this is the first time they are together here, and they begin our journey into my past/ present/ and future.

Musical Memories- The Replacements

The Replacements




This is a band that has been with me my whole life (like a bad ex-girlfriend) but, have been a huge part of it for the past 3 or 4 years. Lets start from the beginning....

When I was a young boy my father made me a mix-tape of bands he thought I should listen to like The Ramones, Crowded House, and The Replacements. So the first songs I ever heard from The Replacements were on this tape. I know for sure that "Can't Hardly Wait" was on there and two or three more which I can't remember exactly right now but know they were all tracks from Pleased to Meet Me and Tim. Then a few years later I remember I started listening to Tim a lot, which is my favorite album from Westerberg, the Stinsons, and Mars.

Years pass...About four years ago I was really sick of all the music I was listening to and was reminded of my youth and The Replacements. I went out and bought Don't Tell a Soul and then went through my Dad's CD collection and pulled out Pleased to Meet Me and Tim, promptly made myself a copy and allowed Westerberg to begin his influence over and connection to my life. I of course had immediate connections with the songs I remembered from my childhood but, found that what Paul was saying was much more relateable, in all of his songs, to my life at this point in time, 22 and frequenting bars and parties with my friends.

I feel writing in list form would be much easier to describe all the connections I had to this music, rather than many jumbled paragraphs, so here goes:

"Bastards of Young"- There was a point in time when I was really connected with a great group of friends and this song always made me think of that group of friends and how we were so tight at the time. We always hung out together, went to parties as a group and didn't really care about anyone else but each other. This song made me feel a sense of unity that I felt in my group of friends at that time.

"Nightclub Jitters"- Whenever I go out to a bar, party, or club I always have this sense of nervousness and Paul wrote about exactly that and how to control it, "I take a drink before I hit the town." Thanks Paul. Also, this song seems to come up any time I talk to my father about The Replacements because he used to feel the same way, and hearing that from my father made me feel like less of a freak. There is also a line, "I'd be willing to wager that it don't matter much if we keep in touch," that I used to always think of when seeing old friends. There were so many times when people would come up and talk to me while I was out and be like, "Nick I miss you so much. We need to get back together. blah,blah,blah" and I would always think to myself that these people were full of shit and I probably wouldn't talk to them for another few months or years because it doesn't really "matter much if we keep in touch."

"Left of the Dial"- Is a song that reminds me of any band I've ever been in but mostly YourBestKeptSecret. When YBKS was playing around there were so many bands that were friends and everyone was supposed to do all these big things. You would become friends with all these bands and then not see them for a while and then bump into them again at some other show, so you would develop these weird relationships where you might start missing seeing these certain people, or hearing from them. "Heard about your band in some local page, didn't mention your name," reminds me of all these big headed kids who thought there band was doing something important, they were gonna be big. Then eventually our bands became competition for each other, "Whose side are you on?" We would get dropped from shows or we would make sure not to put certain bands on our shows and it all became this ridiculous joke that no one ever really talked about but we all knew it was there.

And then there is the line, "You grow old in a bar."

"Can't Hardly Wait"- A few years ago I was writing letters back and forth to this girl I had a crush on. I was hanging out at bars, or drinking and staying at peoples houses and sitting there thinking of what to write to her, so when Westerberg sings, "I'll write you a letter tomorrow. Tonight, I can't hold a pen," I could completely relate. I also felt really stuck at the time, doing all the same old things every night or weekend and the line, "...Ain't you had enough of this stuff, ashtray floors, dirty clothes, and filthy jokes," really helped make that connection for me.

"Kiss Me On The Bus"- I took a trip to Toronto by bus and secretly fell in love, for a few hours, with a hippie girl.

"Achin' to Be"- I have a friend who is an artist and one year she went away to some art school down south after we had grown pretty close. Anytime I heard this song it reminded me of her and always made me miss her a little bit.

"The Ledge"- I've crushed on a lot of girls who haven't even paid attention to me and this song seems to make sense of that. "I'm the boy she can't ignore for the first time in my life I'm sure..."

"Swinging Party"- See above, "The Ledge."

"Customer"- Often when I go shopping, dining, or drinking, I quickly fall in love with any pretty girl that helps me and it is obviously, completely unwarranted. " I'm in love with the girl that works at the store but I'm nothing but a customer."

The Replacements have many other great songs ("Alex Chilton", "Talent Show", "I'm In Trouble", "Answering Machine," "Unsatisfied," etc.) and I could probably write a little something about how I relate to each one of them. I have made some of my greatest connections with the songs listed above but, there are so many songs and some of them I don't feel like writing about.

In the end, The Replacements will always be a band that I can pick lines from anything they've done and relate it to any situation I'm in or have been in. I believe The Replacements will always be one of the biggest contributors to the soundtrack of my life.


Videos:

Bastards of Young (one of the best music videos of all time)

SNL- Bastards of Young (destroying it with Bob)

The Ledge ( they also used this footage for a video of "Alex Chilton")

Kiss Me On The Bus

Talent Show at International Rock Awards ("What the hell are we doing here?" They weren't supposed to sing about taking pills which is why that one line in the beginning is muted out but they later change (without telling the shows producers) the lyrics to the breakdown to "it's too late to take pills, here we go." so punk!)

Certain Replacements videos used to be really easy to find online but now I can't find them, something weird happened. So this is all you get.

Musical Memories- Silverchair

It's been a month or so....

SILVERCHAIR

As far as I can remember the first person I ever tried to sing like, or wanted to sing like, was Daniel Johns. In 6th grade I would come home from school and play NHL 95 while listening to Frogstomp, almost everyday. I remember wondering how Daniel could hold notes for so long, like in "Pure Massacre", and I would try to do so. Eventually, I found out that it wasn't that difficult, but I still loved attempting to sing like Daniel. I remember that when any friends or cousins would come over I would play Frogstomp for them and talk about how much I loved Silverchair.

Years passed and I seemed to forget about Silverchair, coming back to them every once in a while. I somehow missed Silverchair's next album, Freak Show, completely, even though my cousin Nate would always talk about it. However, I didn't trust him because he liked Korn. Then the summer rolled around when I heard the singles from Neon Ballroom, I was 15 years old. I remember being at my friend Brandon's house and hearing "Anthem for the Year 2000." We talked about how awesome Silverchair was and how we were both planning on buying Neon Ballroom. Not much time passed and I went and bought the album. I put on my Rollerblades and skated all the way from my house up to Best Buy and back. I recall putting on my headphones, laying on the couch in the basement, and listening to all of Neon Ballroom as the summer evening passed. I was once again in love with Silverchair. That summer, I would walk up to Southgate Anderson high school to take Driver's Ed classes and always bring my portable CD player and Neon Ballroom ( along with another CD titled Enema of the State, by a band which I'll get to in a later post).

Years passed while I listened to punk rock and put Silverchair on the back burner, and then I went to college. Freshman year of college I rediscovered Neon Ballroom. I remember connecting to "Miss You Love." There was a point during that year when I tried to live my life by one line in that song: "I love the way you love but I hate the way I'm supposed to love you back." Needless to say, I made some mistakes and missed some opportunities because of Daniel Johns influence.
My connection with Silverchair spilled over into sophomore year and even began to grow. My roommates at this time, who became my best friends from freshman year, had a friend Josh who was really into Silverchair. We would go over to his, or his girlfriends, apartment and drink and hang out. One night he showed us this live DVD of Silverchair which was only released in Australia. I remember drinking and watching Silverchair play. There was a moment when I was just so totally into this live show, turned up so loud, on this small TV, that I realized Silverchair was not only amazing live but, one of my favorite bands and would be forever.
Not long after that night I went out and bought Diorama and the DVD Across the Night: The Making of Diorama. I was obsessed with Silverchair again. I listened to them all the time and remembered how relatable Daniel Johns could be. One night my roommate Jason and I had some girls over and everyone had fallen asleep but me and this one girl. Instead of making a move I decided that I would have her watch The Making of Diorama and show her how inspirational Daniel Johns could be. She didn't seem to be that interested in Silverchair and my passion for them, so I went to sleep in my bed and left her to sleep on the couch.

Silverchair has been with me throughout my life, at multiple points, and made me feel a number of different ways. I appreciate this band because they seemed to grow up and progress along with me. I still believe that Neon Ballroom and Diorama are two of the most complete albums I own and I still do not own Freak Show. "After all these years" Silverchair is a band that I constantly find myself coming back to and I always find something I can relate to or something I love, from Frogstomp through Young Modern.


Videos: You'll notice there are much more videos listed here for Silverchair than in previous posts for other bands. That is because all these songs are great, thus making the video great. Also, it's interesting to watch their progression.

Tomorrow

Pure Massacre

Cemetery

Anthem for the Year 2000

Ana's Song (Open Fire)

Miss You Love

Across The Night

Without You

After All These Years

Straight Lines