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On the day I met a painting I couldn’t take home.

I was way too self aware to call it love

I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be admired or taken home

wasn’t sure if i was worthy of either

artists are cruel people

most aren’t even alive to answer for their actions

ill leave the gallery if you leave my head

 

…sold at Christies for 1.5

with a signature on the bottom right corner that turned life

into an endless boulevard of green lights and care free smirks

And on that day, I had 209 dollars in an interest baring account 

that showed no interest in having my back

 

I’m trying to make a good impression here

 

But I had no business in a museum

on this floor

snuck in through the service elevator

service was all i knew, and art

had always seemed like it was for people who had run out of bills to pay

but you

looked back at me as if to say 

today has nothing to do with class

 

im not here to judge

just be nice with your eyes

and calm with your thoughts

we can hang out here for as long as you’d like…

 

but maybe that day, I didn’t feel like being forgiven

maybe I wear my scars the way you wear your oil cracking

maybe i deserve to be the sum of my parts too

I don’t like forgetting my footsteps, I’m scared I won’t know the way home

if I get lost in your world of champagne and raw silk

 

I’m eventually gonna have to go home

and I’d hate for my mother to think I no longer have humble taste buds

 

On the day I met you…I tried to hide my scarred knuckles by never letting go of your waist

I took you to the beach because it was free, and people go there on purpose.

 

I have never met your father

But I assume he wears a hat

Tilted forward

Tilted in a way that says ‘she’s too good for you’

And I left my hat in the car, to make a good impression, but I assume it would nod in agreement

 

How do you pair a girl who wants to end the worlds hunger with a kid who remembers his own

I think it’s great that you know which countries you wanna save first

But I know the names of the people I would save, I’m saving up to save them now.

 

I don’t know which fork is for salad, and which is for shrimp

and to be honest I’ve lost my appetite

every ones glair feels like a cyclone of mirrors and i didn’t come here to be surrounded my myself

not only do i not know the answer…i don’t understand the question.

and i didn’t come here to want to be somewhere else, 

i can do that at home…

your frame alone…is too solid a foundation

for a crooked house boy like me

but i appreciate you being so nice to me, 

 

from your side of the rope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burton love poem

Gift wrap my sins for me

Leave them on the dresser before you go

I’d like something to remember you by

Aside from the scent you left on my pillows

I always find you

Damaged always wants damaged

Scars always find scars

And the broken always find beauty in the broken

Maybe I thought we’d fill in each others blanks

Maybe chaos crashing into chaos sounds like love when it echoes 

 

Maybe when it’s all over

You remember me different 

Edit out all the screaming

Maybe you exaggerate my kindness

Make up a few moments that never happened 

And ignore my bladed smile

 

Consistent is redundant depending on whether or not you’re bored yet 

And those like us see the beauty in the striking of match heads

As the flames swallow everything whole

 

Sometimes run through the house

Breaking the china  and drawing faces on the art

Just to break the silence

 

Sometimes we earthquake 

Just to remember what shaking feels like

We wonder if it is odd we find this beautiful

The symphony of you’re crying 

The warmth of my jealousy 

We’ve made a home here

In the rubble.

 

Those who pry us apart 

Are unprepared for their journey

Don’t understand the pretty in our war games

Think they’re ready

For your falling timber

But no one plays wreckage like us

No one enjoys the scars like us

Staring at them like honeymoon pictures

So here 

Look through my phone

Catch me staring

No one makes banchi screams as melodic as yours

Burn the house down 

Hate me as I play alpha male

Break vases as I conquistador 

Shake apart everything

Because I haven’t felt chaos in weeks

And  I miss the warmth

The assurance that we still feel anything at all

 

 

So In the event of our pre marital divorce 

I give you half my sanity 

Drunken texts of regret

And an apartment behind my 4th rib

That you can use as a vacation home

Whenever you’re bored of the silence.

Find me.

I know I don’t post here often but I will start posting  more I promise. Just giving you guys a heads up, a book of poems is on the way and in the mean time you can find me on TUMBLR or on twitter at @YGLA Thanks for the support.

10/19/11

She wishes she could sing

Well actually

She wishes she could sing …

In public

And she can

But wont

when she’s alone

she paints the room

with the harp in her throat,

she makes the paint on the wall get her songs stuck in their head, you can hear the echo days later

she wishes she wasn’t so shy

approaches guys with well planned steps

shoes get tighter and more uncomfortable as she inches closer

preps every word, and at the last minute decides its probably for the best she doesn’t say anything

acts like she was walking past him,

acts like she sees someone in the distance

gets on her phone to avoid the awkwardness

she reads corny romance novels, throws them across the room mid sentence and yells “why don’t guys talk like this!!!’

then bursts into laughter at the fact she threw a fiction book across the room for not being realistic

at night she is most strong

thinks of the best jokes

“why am I only funny when no one is around” she thinks

“why am I only charming, when hypothetically responding to lines in movies”

she had no great tragedy

no drunken father

no scars of sorrow

just a timid smile like a rubix cube

and I was never any good at solving those

she feels bigger than the life she leads

feels like she shoulda lived in another era

miss cast in a play

bad timing, and awkward one armed hugs

she wishes everyone could see what she feels

she wishes being nice, made her sexy

but her pride was put on backwards

at times she argues with her self, trying to convince her to have less integrity

be like the girls that the boys like

but she’s stubborn

when she is quiet in the corner of a room

with eyes full of what ifs and why nots.

Judging people for being so judgmental

 

That’s when I can hear her yell the loudest

I can’t hear anything else over her silence

When you get to know her

I swear it’ll be the biggest surprise of your life

She’s brilliant

Original, one of a kind knock knock jokes

Movie recommendations via Netflix of your next favorite film

Songs on her ipod are all honest

Every lyric of every song is right

All the time

But you wont get to know her

Cause she wont say hi

Nor will she give you a reason to

But if she did, you would be best friends

Maybe even fall in love

Maybe shell introduce you to your future wife

Cause she’ll know you that well

Her Cashmere finger tips feel like they belong on your face this quiet girl cant be human

At least she doesn’t feel human

She feels static-y

She feels purple!

She’s gorgeous but not magazine gorgeous

She’s ‘would make a great mom’ gorgeous

She’s ‘pick you up when your stranded’ gorgeous

She’s wake up and already beautiful…gorgeous

But she won’t know that till you tell her…

And I would go up to her

Become her friend

And maybe one day on the phone around 2:31 in the morning

Give her some great advice

 

But I don’t know anything

So I wont say anything

I’m just as lost, as she is.

Maybe I need someone to tell me that being lost is normal

But it sure doesn’t feel normal

And when someone tells you they understand

The first thing you think of is

“you don’t understand shit”

but the first thing you say is

“I know you do”

and the funny thing is she cares what people think

but not as much as I do…cause I would never admit, that I care what people think.

 

 

 

 

 

 

8/23/11

I really like seeing old couples

It gives me faith that women get less crazy as they get older

Although I should probably know better

Although he has perfected tuning her out when she goes on her adorable rants

His watch hates when he pretends like he doesn’t care

His watch was there from the beginning

And his watch always had a good feeling about her

Her ring on the other hand

Was always skeptical

Probably because she new he would one day purchase her replacement

Little did she know, that her, would wear them both

Stacked like totems, to show the total combination of her before him

And her as his wife

She isn’t the type to replace her past with her present she collects moments

And will have something to show for it at the end

And I bet he doesn’t remember what its like to walk with a free right hand anymore

Learned to drive with just his left

Incase she ever needed a second seat belt

His right hand couldn’t let itself get distracted by driving

So it rested like it was in the reserves

Reserved gently on her thigh,

If anything is to happen, his watch, would watch the road, as he

And his right hand, make sure she’s ok

His shoes were old and a bit worn

But they still squeaked when he walked

So he can at least sound like he had on new ones

To impress her

His shoes had his back

So did his jacket

After all

It hugged her every time he did

His jacket knew her smell, sometimes it held on to it

So when she isn’t around he doesn’t forget how lucky he is

But she was pretty lucky herself.

And her pearls knew it

They remember how nervous they got when they first got that close to his tie

But it’s not like his tie was all that confident

It almost choked him during that first kiss

It knew that landing him that kiss, would get it worn to all job interviews and important meetings

His tie LOVED meetings

It was now his lucky tie

And it lived up to its title.

He was wearing it the day he proposed

a long with a brand new pin striped oxford button down.

And boy did he perform well on his first day on the job.

He didn’t even notice the wine stain till he was thrown on the floor later that night

But no one could hear him complain about the wine, over the two lovers.

At least it wasn’t the cheap stuff.

Her butter fly hairpin watched everything from above

She was a fourth of an inch taller than his hat but she would never point that out

He had a bit of an ego when it came to his height.

That morning he stared at her in amazement

All that talk guys have about being afraid of being with one woman for the rest of his life went out the wide-open French window

This was in fact the only woman he would ever get to sleep with,

But he didn’t like to brag.

The only thing he was afraid of that morning

Is any morning from then on that he didn’t wake up next to her.

And 51 years later

As he wakes up next to her his watch suggests he nudge her arm

They wake up

And without saying a word

Look around at all the reminders of 51 years of stories.

They look at each other and burst out into an uncontrollable laughter

His watch felt like a compass that day

His watch had always wanted to be a compass,

But he figured making sure he’s on time to her, was almost the same as leading him her way…

A Guide to making it work; The LA Edition

When you meet her, ask her for her name, I know it seems to simple, but you would be surprised how original that is…no clever come-ons, no re arranging the alphabet just Hello, I’m so and so, I just wanted to introduce myself.

We have all made mistakes, wearing hers like a mirror, will make you disgusting to look at; let it go…and let her move on, the way you would like people to let you

When you kiss her, try not to still be texting as your lips lock

Phones off at dinner; this one, can literally save the whole relationship

Keep the Internet…out of your lives; this goes for both men and women
Public opinion, public commentary, other peoples uneducated thoughts have never helped a couple grow stronger, and they never will!

Get tested, there is nothing more beautiful, then doing something your embarrassed about, for the sake of true and genuine concern for both your safety

Guys, your straight male friends…will call you gay, for wanting to hang out with a woman, instead of them…I know it makes no sense…excuse them, they are lonely and think its gay you found happiness.

I know you know her ex, don’t bring him up. Picking scabs is for children, not adults who are trying to build love out of shards of broken mirrors

The day you slip and call her a “bitch” will bring you one step closer to beating your insecurities into her cheek bones…so don’t, under any circumstance, ever.

I know you think you’re famous, but never forget she is your biggest, and sometimes, only fan.

Also in regards to your celebrity, it is okay to be seen in public, blaming it on “you don’t like people talking about you guys” is lame…and an insult to her intelligence.

Get a job, I know this ones tricky…but if your art isn’t paying for your livelihood, you haven’t earned the luxury of being an artist for a living so I repeat

Get a Job Baptize the day in sweat; there is nothing low, or dishonorable about a hard days work. I promise you, you will look more like a man to her, than you ever did sitting on the couch waiting for your big break.

Silence is golden…
A relationship, consists of two people, Just those two people should know the ins and outs of said relationship. The more people you include, the more likely you wont last.

Just incase you missed it. Get a job

And lastly I know we have adopted lies as a second slang, but try to speak the truth…it will save you the stress of not getting caught. Its much easier to have nothing to catch in the first place.

Give a fuck.

“If I was on some drugs now, I wouldn’t give a fuck…but then I’d come off stage, and still not give a fuck. By the time you hit 50, and a lot of not giving a fuck, you miss a part of your life ‘hey what happened to your life?…I didn’t give a fuck.’”

—	Richard Pryor, 7 months sober. (Here and Now 1983)

 

The Greatest Movie Ever Sold

Home away from home…

I sometimes wonder

If I would have the courage to become as soluble as you

Allow myself to blend into a movement

To simply be a fist

Or a finger

Or a fingernail

In the body of an uprising

Would I be okay, with being a casualty statistic, just to let the world know

She has been in denial of her issues

I promise you

I never wanted to be a part of this much history

Never wanted someone’s teacher in history class to be discussing my family

writing pros and cons on black boards like these aren’t people

I have never felt so small

To be trampled by a burden

A story

Of a people

Bigger than life

All of these people are God’s children

none of them agree

Not sure who’s right and who’s wrong

don’t care

they all need to eat

All need places to sleep at night

I think she has forgotten us

But can you blame her

She has a lot of baggage

Letting too many men conquer her

Letting her stories become lies over time

Her truths…

All truths

Are about three or Four words long

I miss you

I love you

I’m scared

Anything added on to that only brings you closer to a lie

But don’t you dare act like I don’t reflect you, no matter where I stand in proximity to your tears

My sweet pistol of a home

May you erupt like a volcano

we have always known you to be

to one day enjoy the calm you have always deserved

 

She used to be beautiful you know

I remember seeing god telling stories to her children

as everyone

Was looking for him in a place of worship

But he was smart enough to know where her angels hid

Now those kids are grown

Her youth have gotten restless

When you’re raised singing songs of fear…

when the cops you are supposed to turn to for help

are the reason you need help…

 

I can see how celebrating your spirits freedom can look like a riot

I get it

I can see how a reporter can misread our tidal waves

for his target practice

i understand

but.

When you’ve taken everything from a people

You made the mistake

Of giving them the power

Of having nothing to lose

I don’t know if I would be strong enough

To demand what is mine

I don’t know how I would fair in a duel with a giant

I like to think the courage would be provided on the battlegrounds

Along with something to eat

I wish I could show her

What my pride is worth

How much I do miss her

What I would do in her honor

How I would give you the breath from my lungs, so my chest can be as eagle

As our flag

Just to be included in your sacrifice

How dare I try to write something poetic or beautiful?

Against the credit of my nations suffering

Please forgive me

For it is the only way I know how to cope…

…with something so much bigger,

than just one person.

Jung

So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It’s always the last day of summer and I’ve been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I’ll grant you I’ve had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they’re making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door.