I'm just not sure
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
I had to cry today
my soul needed to be scrubbed
clean
and I ached shook whined and threw
my tears at god
I can’t say all the reasons why
I don’t know myself too well, but it
came from somewhere deep down
churning and growing demanding
itself to be heard
maybe it’s the two boxes lost far
in the back of the closet, my family remains
ashes and bones of mom and brother
it could be because of the flood of memories
that struggle to surface whenever I think of them
it could be the circle of professional critics that
line the inside of my head
no angels on one side devil on the other
more like a choir of thugs carrying axes on pike
handles, driving the ragged edges into the soft fat
tissue of my childhood
it could be the overwhelming sadness left standing
alone after tragedy’s anger has spent itself and talk becomes a
metaphor for emptiness, or possibly rage gone limp in the face
of no momentum no velocity no spin, just the beating of empty
hearts pumping pH balanced boredom
I doubt it was anything in particular, certainly not the
1000’s of children that died today, I think I’m over that
and the stories of the war steals my ability to cognate
I’m a zombie from the present, the boom boom in Iraq
pales to alien vs. predator, besides, it doesn’t fit my gameboy.
J. Masuda © 2004
my soul needed to be scrubbed
clean
and I ached shook whined and threw
my tears at god
I can’t say all the reasons why
I don’t know myself too well, but it
came from somewhere deep down
churning and growing demanding
itself to be heard
maybe it’s the two boxes lost far
in the back of the closet, my family remains
ashes and bones of mom and brother
it could be because of the flood of memories
that struggle to surface whenever I think of them
it could be the circle of professional critics that
line the inside of my head
no angels on one side devil on the other
more like a choir of thugs carrying axes on pike
handles, driving the ragged edges into the soft fat
tissue of my childhood
it could be the overwhelming sadness left standing
alone after tragedy’s anger has spent itself and talk becomes a
metaphor for emptiness, or possibly rage gone limp in the face
of no momentum no velocity no spin, just the beating of empty
hearts pumping pH balanced boredom
I doubt it was anything in particular, certainly not the
1000’s of children that died today, I think I’m over that
and the stories of the war steals my ability to cognate
I’m a zombie from the present, the boom boom in Iraq
pales to alien vs. predator, besides, it doesn’t fit my gameboy.
J. Masuda © 2004