another mess to clean

i am a fool.
how in hell did i think ,
think that there could ever,
ever be something.
i was lost,
lost in your spell.
you are only my worst enemy,
but i am so mezmerized,
by your actions,
and thoses eyes.
i need to dodge your bullets.
you are killing me.
my heart is shreading right before your eyes.
but you will never know.
because i am never opening my mouth.
never hinting and a slight thing.
never going to tell you.
how stupid could i be,
stupid enough to be trapped
trapped in your web.
too late, im caging my feelings.
the worse part is
that ill regret every moment
i spend with you or with out you
and you not knowing who i
really am and what im all about
im taking my love
your going to break my heart anyway
im hitting the road.
i have gotta clean up this mess
the mess i only knew i would have to clean up.
im just wasting my time.

My Rubberbands

The rubberbands on my wrist are to make me a better person,
I want to stop this now before it can worsen.
They're not for accessory or to start a new trend.
I'm just trying to get my bad habit to mend.
I'll put another one on each time I slip,
until I finally get my habit to flip.
Today I finished with quite a few,
out of my mouth they really flew.
It's not like I say them to try to be cool,
but sometimes they're used as societys' fuel.
Some are not too bad, some more severe.
Each time I say one I almost shed a tear,
because that means one more rubberband.
Another one pulls over my hand.
That proves I need to make this habit right,
before my hair turns gray or white.
But it's hard to stop something you've done for a while,
I would much rather run the mile.
But the rubberbands remind me that it can be done.
When it's all done I'll see the sun.
I don't have to use them to get my point out.
I'll force myself to take a different route.
But sometimes I feel like I'll never be done.
I want to look down and see less than one.
So, I put my hand in my pocket on my prayer token,
and thats when I'm certain this habit can be broken.
I don't want to say them anymore, that's how I want to be.
Rubberbands are the plan. So I guess we'll see

it's over

not cut out for this
won't be back
don't know what that guy wants
got muscle got
fame
serious ricks yet
still wants outta the game
learn how to protect
he wants you
end of the line doing it
for him
who would you call
i'm brutal and
picky
i'll get back at him for
you need this apron
be my slave for a while
my goal to bring you back together:feeding
the hungry ghost
so many terrors
got an arguing door never
wants to close.
i was just wondering
how long these cravings
are planning to last.
this monkey business could tear us apart
sorry but
you're not the baby no more
shave off our time scrape
by scrape
i'll pretend to be hopeful but
give it a few weeks
tops.
pray it works out. but
no secret its out
this is the last stand.

ready set go

pop pop, drop and stop. shake and try not to break, make it and fake it and take it to the top. bounce, bop, bam bam baby, slam it and....and....damn it! fall to the floor and then pick it up to soar and roar above the crowd that's way too loud. shine, it's your time, stop being a mime, take it, say "it's mine." don't worry and don't be scared just come prepared to talk one talk and walk a walk because that's what we people do, we don't wanna be new. scream and dream and even when it may seem that you're lost and cris-crossed, find your cost and be sold without being told you have to be bold. try to love and rise above a cold cold world, with your fingers curled into a tight white fist you've never missed but....oops, now your head droops and you make loops in your hair it's not fair why do all the people stare? hey hey pretty girl, your eyes are like a swirl, a twirl of yellow and green and blue they're so new and the boys'll take their cue and fall in love with you. now end it, send it, i won't to mend it or defend it, it's over and done with and all i am is a myth

To Whom it Concerns

To whom it concerns,

Let me see where should I begin,
to make me feel like accepting me would be a win?
If you looked at my grades, you probably shuddered,
they wern't always as smooth as butter.
This last one was good though, see?
Four A's and only one B.
And my A.C.T. scores you wonder?
That was a slight blunder.
But the problem I have,
more than half of that test is science and math.
And well you see
I excel in English and History.
And History wasn't even on the test,
so I couldn't show you my absolute best.
It's just equations, numbers, and formulas all get lost in my head,
but I could make a top 100 list of the books I've read.
What is it you want more?
I could tell you the start through end of any American war.
There's got to be more good, let's see
I won my 3rd through 7th grade spelling bees.
So you see I dont really sound that bad.
If you don't accept me, I'd be pretty sad.
Imagine what you'd do to my confidence,
collapse it like an old wooden fence.
Oh there's one more thing I forgot to share
and I just want to be totally fair,
see I have no idea what to do next year
but that's not a problem so have no fear.
I have quite a few future plans I could go for
and as soon as I'm able to pick one I will soar.
As you can see college would be for the better,
so when should I be expecting that acceptance letter?

"I'm Home"

Her death seemed unreal
Her smile was gone
She told me to never leave her and suddenly she never came back
Sweet laughter haunts my sleep as I tell myself that I could have stopped it
Her love is gone
God, why did I fail her
She was always there for me and I betrayed her
Why can't this be just a dream
Her jokes, her smiles, her tears fill my mind every day
I was her death
I fought she cared for my wounds
I cried she wiped away my tears
I smiled she smiled
She laughed she lit up my world
She was and is my best friend
I wish this was a scary joke
I wish she would come through the door and say 'I'm home' once again.

Written after a nightmare woke me up for a friend who is still alive.

~reikan~

It's been awhile but here's a random attempt....

Why does it hurt so bad
You never really knew me
Yet all along there were words I never could say
I tried but always failed
The words seemed false when they came to light
I tried to help so much that your fears became mine
And yet now you are walking away
and now all I can say is I'll miss you and please remember me.

Coward

Maybe ill gain enough courage to tell you with in the next twenty four hours. I need you to understand the way I am feeling about this. This meaning all my feelings. Because I dont know what you are feeling. So Im telling you. Maybe you will figure it out. But part of me wants you to know nothing about this. But heres the cold hard truth. I like you. No one would expect it. Weird I know. Maybe you will take it all in and understand why I feel the way I feel. I know im worth it.

Message In A Bottle

My message in a bottle, is for only you to see,
to understand to figure out what is my destiny.
What am I supposed to be,
and just what is it that makes up me?
I don't know what to do next year
and that I won't figure it out is my biggest fear.
"It will come to you" is all I hear.
But how can I just wait for a decision so large?
I'm supposed to be the one in charge.
Everyone else knows what they will do,
so why can't I figure it out too?
I'd like to think it's because there is more to me,
and you don't get just what you see.
But I really feel surrounded by the best
and that I just don't measure up to all the rest.
This year has proved to be quite the test.
I don't like this feeling, I just want to know
where exactly my life is going to go.
But I still don't so what I'm going to do,
is put my message in a bottle for you.

First Move

I wish I could tell the whole world.
Shout from every roof top.
Let the people of earth know my secret.
The one I keep tucked away inside of me.
The type of secret you only tell your best friend, but somehow everyone esle knows.
But secretly you dont care because you wanted people to know.
The difference between this secret and others, is that mine could kill me.
If I get it off my chest, good thing I have this bullet proof vest.
This secret that so many know, but so little would approve, is screaming, its going to rebel and make its way out of my body somehow.
There is no way in the entire world I'll let him know.
Because I know he expects nothing, or doesnt even sence it at all.
Everyone would hate me, they would all disapprove.
But I sure do like him, but how do I make my move?

Exhaustion

I've given all I have, and yet you people want more. More emotion, more thought, more truth. I swear, I've outdone myself but it's like a mad footrace to see who can do more. I've exhausted my vocabulary, searching for words to say something new; I feel like I lost this game I set out knowing I would surely win. Honestly, I've tried so hard and I've gone so far and told so much but I feel defeated, broken down, and beaten by this world. The demands, the expectations, give me more or you'll fall just like all the others who tried to step up, the ones who scored a few times but peaked at a young age and now nobody knows their names. I want my name known...

Anything Left

love has lost its mystery.

pain has lost its agony.

food has lost its flavor.

color has lost its appealing nature.

laughter has lost its energy.

competing has lost its thrill.

conversation has lost its trust.

home has lost its whereabouts.

this girl has lost herself.

Tell me: Truth.

I dont know much.
Much about anything.
What I do know is this:
My heart screams out your name.
You make your way into my thoughts.
And in my dreams.
My pen seems to spit our your name.
I have an urge to confess my sins to you.
I cant hide theses feelings much longer.
They are going to blow up inside of me.
I have to tell you the truth.
It will only get harder the more I know.
But you will reject me.
I can feel it.
I'm not your type.
You are way out in left field,
While I warm up the bench.
But I wish you would take me away.
And show me where your heart is some day.
I have hope.
I can wish.
I wonder.
But,
If anyone can make it,
I'm betting on me and you.

i am.

i am the compass…leading the way
i am your trailer hitch…hooked on you
i am the bedroom fan...delivering fresh air
i am your mail…open me
i am your baseball cap…never leave with out it
i am your saxophone…like music to your ears
i am the curfew that brings you home
i am your cell phone…dialed into you
i am the candle on the birthday cake…the one you can’t blow out
i am the e-break…stopping everything

Poetry; The tireless construction

An open window,
an open door,
a place where no one says no more.
But it's not quite as easy as it seems,
to make your ends justify the means.
I sit in the room all by myself,
with my notebook below me my greatest wealth.
If I could just get this poem out of my head,
I would be satisfied, then I could go to bed.
But I stare at the page because I don't know what to write
so I scribble in the margin, until a new word comes into sight.
I make a mental list, do these two ryhme?
Yes! It's perfect, it worked this time.
I look at the page, there's more black than white,
so I go toward the wall to turn off the light.
But no I'm not done, it's not time yet.
I will not sleep until this poem is set.
As as I sit there waiting for inspiration to hit,
I find myself wanting to throw a fit.
Because I'm stuck, I can't think I'm at a block.
All I can focus on is the wall's noise, tick tock,
because I can't quite get the words on the page,
they are stuck inside of me in a locked cage.
Then the haze clears and I can finally see,
my poem can be anything I want it to be.
Maybe light as a feather,
or tough as leather.
It's all mine, I can do whatever.
But I'm going to stop writing and take my bow,
read it, don't, like it ,love it anything, it's yours now.

Psychoactive Substance

As he sits in the empty kitchen
waiting and wishing for someone-anyone to be pitchen,
he craves the euphoric effects
thinking about what it would be like inhaling the vaporized morphine
without the wax, lipids, and latex componets,
and only getting pure contaminants.
The poppy seed and codine takes over his thoughts,
he is a slave and his master resides in pots.
The sedative sweeps over him with thickly-veiled addiction and withdrawls,
and now Coldridge's unfinished Kubla Khan calls.
Is this a nation of hallucination?
Or is the CSA in control,
keeping the world from becoming a narcotic black hole?
Numbness of the percaset and vicadine,
as the herion pulses through his viens.
He doesn't want to face his pains
even contemplating blowing out his brains.
The existance is becoming distant.
Gasping for breath in the wading velvet sea,
now having to give the devil a plea.
Antiphsychotics, stimulants, and depressants...What is your poison?
The bright sky clouded with a haze of smoke and coke
brings him back to existance.
Coming down not wanting to face the fact,
doing anything to retract.
As he snorts the shakes come back,
hitting the floor...
closing the casket and no longer craving more.

Definition of love? Self Love.

I've never been more happy, now that I'm with you,
you make me smile with the very slightest thing you do.
I remember the day we met to the slightest detail,
even your stupid green shirt: "I'm over it let's bail".
You're the only guy thats given me just one butterfly,
and you're the only guy under fifty that can pull off a flower tie.
I even like all the stupid things you do,
that get laughed at endlessly, by the rest of our crew.
I want to tell you, I want to say it so bad.
But with everyone else our age, those words are just a fad.
I've never had such feelings before
but they are so real, straight from the core.
Hmm i wonder is it time for the "L" word?
My Mom says of course not "That's Absurd"!
But I will tell you anyway because that's how I feel.
From deep down inside of me, these feelings are so real.
You were the first Valentine I ever had.
I didn't think you could ever make me sad.
So then I said it "I love you".
And you told me back I don't think I love you too.
Then you said I'm sorry I think it's over.
I couldn't believe it, I thought are you sober?
You said come on we were better off as friends,
and that's how my "perfection" came to an end.
All I wished for right then was a magic wand
so I could say "poof" and fix our bond.
But there was no repair we really were done.
And the we i had known suddenly became one.
I must thank you now, that was quite the test.
And you set the bar high for all the rest.
I'm happy now I hope you can see.
And it's not with you it's just with me.
Because before you can love anyone else,
You must first truly love yourself.

woot-woot

YEAH!!!! I'm finally on the blog! I couldn't believe it until i saw my writing on there...and it only took me what a month and a half. Oh well ya gotta be known for something!

--We call everyone Sir in Illinois--

Hospital Waiting room

The blue walls, the stiff smell, the squeak of feet. You sit there with your mind on everything else but the present. You're lost in your mental scrapbook. Remember the time... remember when... You get the news but it seems impossible to refer to the person in the past tense because moments ago they were "here". You can't look anyone directly in the face, you are so inside yourself you can't some out. Tears fill your eyes and you can't breathe. It's over and you know it. There's nothing you can do. You look at the people celebrating in the next one with mint green walls, no stiff smell, no squeak of feet to distract you from the good news the Doctor came in and told them. They hug and look at each other, they got another chance, a new beginning. They are happy. Days ago a baby was born in this room, the news filled the air, the cry. Now today a different cry. Pain, an ending, a moment, and all in a hospital waiting room.

Hey, ___:

You smile, I smile...it's a domino effect. When you laugh - you have one of those laughs that makes me happy cuz it's so goofy and contagious - I have to at least giggle. You're funny, you're kind, you're easy-going. But I don't know you that well, just the school you. I wonder what you're like outside of this building. I wonder how you treat your friends, your enemies, your siblings. I've only been alone with you once, for a few minutes, and I found myself wondering what to say, wanting to make you laugh so I could laugh and the tension would break. I catch myself looking at you just wondering what you think about, cuz there's got to be more to you than the person I see in class...what makes you tick? When you talk I wanna listen, what you write I wanna read. Too bad you're totally and completely out of my reach, way out of my league.....?

Lance Anti Doping

I love this spot.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIl5RxhLZ5U

Lance crash

Lance Armstrong Crash
Lance got tangled up on a musette (food bag) that a spectator was holding. He then came back to win the Stage! What a Monster! He's awesome.
Click for the Video

Awesome highlight reel here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1QjYx6drVaA

Just Another Face

I don't know how to begin this. Not with Dear, not with Hello, we have moved pass that. You cannot start a letter with Dear, its too formal, you are not breaking someones heart, you are not sending them a Dear John letter, you are smiply "gettting together" with them. You are having a cup of coffee with them. You think you can hear their voice when you are reading the letter out loud. But when I wrote this letter to you it wasnt my voice that was saying the words, it was mearly helping my heart along the , rather a support.

I do not have many questions for you, nor do I wish to know the answers to my questions. I want to spill my heart out for you. Its my writing that does the talking. I am too much of a chicken to say something to you, something that isnt funny or that isnt making fun of someone, or that isnt stupid, or even making fun of you. I laugh at your jokes, even when they arent funny, and i laugh when you make fun of someone. Maybe you notice me, maybe you dont. So I spill my heart out on paper, just to let you know how I truly feel.

For some odd reason I am drawn to you. I feel connected to you in an awkward sort of way. I cant control it. Its a feeling that I have. I am not going to say sorry, because that would be like telling you that I cant be real. But real is what this is, a feeling, a slight emotion. But I am crushed, crushed by the fact that ill never be in that picture, the picture of your future. Ill just be another memory, or worse just another face in our senior yearbook.

Reasons to Ask Leyba to Prom

It isn't too early to start planning
Pros
ü Leyba is old school/retro and that is so hot right now
ü Leyba knows what all the silverware is for at the restaurant
ü Leyba is taller than the freshman you were gonna ask
ü Leyba has no cerfew
ü Leyba is trusted by parents
ü One word—mad booty dance skills
ü Can you say “heads turned?”
ü Leyba isn’t sweaty
ü No awkward silences with Leyba
ü No post-prom stalking
ü No weird middle of the prom fights
ü Everyone wants to be in his group
ü Won’t constantly check his phone
ü You can wear mongo heels
ü You can dance with other people’s dates
ü Leyba’s mom won’t take 100 pictures

Cons
Ø My wife and family want to be in the pictures
Ø Dance moves are old
Ø People will be jealous
Ø You buy dinner
Ø People will make fun of you at the 10 year reunion
Ø You’ll piss off other people’s dates when you dance with em
Ø That picture of the group on the staircase—weird
Ø Slow dances
Ø Leyba wears his old Rob Lowe St. Elmo’s Fire autograph model
earring(see movie)
Ø Leyba keeps requesting Duran Duran and Flock of Seagulls at DJ
booth
Ø Leyba mistakes crowd laughter for cheers while dancing
Ø Leyba says “sick” all evening long
Ø Long line for photos with Leyba
Ø Leyba changes outfits like 3 times at After Prom
Ø People whisper a lot when you walk past them

Dirty Vegas

I have something more meaningful
than an
A
For you.

Respect.

I miss you

Done. Over. I quit, you quit, we're through. Well actually it was just me that quit, gave up, stopped trying. While you were crying and dying because I was leaving, I was running faster and farther away, just wanting it to be over. "It's not that I don't care, I do! I just....I dunno, it's just time" These things sound so cliche to me but how else to say it? I do still care, I do still love...but I'm not still in love. So it wouldn't be fair, would it, to you or to me for this lie to keep on, to fake a kiss and force a smile. "I want to be friends, I want us to be okay...but I'll understand if you hate me for a while." I bet you don't believe me, the last thing you want is my friendship right now, now that I've torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it. Is that how it feels? Do you think I'm meaning to hurt you like this? But there's no other way, breaking up always hurts one more than the other....doesn't it? Just because I did it does that mean I don't hurt, don't cry, don't feel an emptiness in my heart that I haven't felt for so many years. "The last time I didn't have you I was a sophomore." You make me realize how much we've grown up together. It hurts when I think about it, I'm crying now, it's setting in, no more dinners with your family, no more lessons on calculus, no more doing homework together after school, no more texting into the night....no more you. I'll miss you. I'm missing you. I miss you.

the prayer of just a kid

dearest dearest teacher sir
where do i go from here
i'm near the place where i fear
i can't hear what you're saying anymore
i refuse to believe that you believe in me
cuz i can't see how you view me
and i'm scared that i've bared
too much of my soul
maybe i'm really dull and i can't pull
my weight
underneath uniformity and conformity
i'm pushing, trying, seeking to be unique
in this small society
of stereotyping and backstabbing
i'm scared to be me
to be free to see what me can be
so dearest dearest teacher sir
please help me break out,
not doubt,
and not whisper but shout
that i'm comfortable
being vulnerable
and i'm who i wanna be

~Biggy Blue Eyes

a tissue for an issue

i have
a slight issue
someone grab me a tissue
i have writers block
who would have thought
but you see this ryhme
bah its lame
and im to blame
my brain on pause
this might cause a serious injury
but i could bite and hold on tight
hold that line and should
but oh no i cant
i have no chance
boy i have writers block
i cant toy with it
or annoy you with it
but who
maybe you
but please grab me a tissue
i have a slight issue

Alienation
Being different where they look the same in clothes and name
goes against the socialization in my public biased education
And now the different ones are so many that they too look the same
but they aren’t to blame cuz conformity tailgates originality so closely
that change is expected while style is forecasted and projected more than protected
And we all get aboard cuz the marginalized are strong but lonely
and we’d rather be weak than the Only
And I’ll take my outsiders in books bands and movies
but not as my neighbors
and homies I’ll stick with my phonies
cuz when we stand side by side it’s like camouflage from choice
My brand name is the voice that I pay for full price
But I don’t mind watchin the ones called unique as they pave the path that I soon will call mine


LLoyd