Nothing To Tell

Inside my guilt is plaguing me,
But I'll never speak it aloud,
Inside my hate is raging me,
But on the outside I am proud.
Didn't you know it's immoral to care?
How else could you live with yourself?
You should just keep on living
with the mask that you wear,
And forget it,
There's nothing to tell.
___________________________________________

This is it. Life. What you wanna call it. The way we're
supposed to lead our lives. And if you wanna blend in, you
better swallow it and get a move on, past the homeless
on the streets, past the news reports on your way into
your new kitchen. Don't forget to feed the cat! Best in
show! I'm sick of it. This. I feel as if I see things clearly,
just the way they actually are, and that's good - but it's
got a prize. The prize of exposure to the real world, is
the pain. The unbearable pain. I'll shed my tears for
as long as I can stand, so that I can forward the message.
But then I'll put the mask back on.
It's simply a matter of survival, ol' chap.

Repeating Itself

Suddenly they aren't there anymore.
At least not as obvious as they were before.
Couldn't ever explain it,
My throat is too sore.
Suddenly I know but I don't wanna see.
And I'm fully aware but I don't wanna be.
Couldn't ever accept it,
It's too much of a hell.
Even though it's just my past,
Repeating itself.
______________________________________________

This is such an emotional poem to me I find it hard to even
comment. I don't know... I'm just so confused right now, I don't
know what to do, where to go. Who I am. I feel like I've lost
myself for the past months, and now I'm heading down the
drain. I'm lost in mind, but also in this world, cause no one
sees me anymore, I'm invisible, to everyone except the one
person who brought me down this line in the first place.

It's been a nice session, use me at will and say goodbye,
thank you all for letting me die.
______________________________________________

Now That I'm Facing Apology

Someone important from my past
Came to make some peace at last
But now that I'm facing apology
It aint the way I thought it to be
Kept myself busy although it was tough
And I forgot about you soon enough
It ought to better like this but it's worse.

Cause now you reminded me how much it really hurts.
______________________________________________

God I wish you'd never said you're sorry.
Or I wouldn't miss you half as much.

Not Allowed

What if I said I couldn't do it anymore.

What if I'm lying here, head full of doubts.

What if I can't see what my work is for.

Then would you crack the Jar open and let me out?

What if I told you I can do it for sure.

What if I wanna stand up and shout.

What if I knew what my work was for.

Then would you crack the Jar open?

No, cause you know it's not allowed.
_____________________________________________

yesterday_today_tomorrow

yesterday, you left me
today, you still possess me
nothing left for me to do
then just to watch and let you

without you I can't breathe
can't speak or see or be
this was nothing that I chose
but it's how the story goes

yesterday, you burnt me
tomorrow, you'll return to me
nothing left for me to do
then just to watch and let you

you are how i express myself
my pretend book on my pretend shelf
suddenly you're gone
and all of me is gone

yesterday, you left me
today, you still possess me
nothing left for me to do
then just to watch and let you
______________________________________

Faith. Ah... that's the word I was looking for...
This poem sort of capsules that word. Think of it like
this. Yesterday my faith abandoned me. Today it still
possesses me. Tomorrow it'll come back to me. Faith
always comes and goes in our lives. Doesn't have to
be faith in God. Could be faith in life, faith in your
friends... faith in the future. Faith in the fact that some
day, everything will actually be allright. Sometimes
that faith grows strong in us. "I think we can make it".
Othertimes it fades, becomes weaker, perhaps even
leavesus completely: "There's nothing we can do..."
It can stay away for hours, days, even years; if we're
unlucky we won't ever see it again. I'd like to say most
of the times it comes back to you. But the truth is,
when it does, it'll often just pop in for a visit. You gotta
really embrace it if you wanna keep it for a longer time.
And you know what? Ask me. I know the trick of keeping
your faith - course I do, strange if I didn't, being an
expert of losing my faith ought to teach me something
about it, right? Right. All you gotta do is, don't get in
to it. If you realize faith for what it actually is, you're
screwed. Messed up. Down the Faithless Hill 'tords
deterioration. I don't wish that upon anyone. So I'm
not gonna tell you. You just figure it out for your own
part. If that's where you wanna go.

Truthfacer

I aint no product of your makebelief
I aint your wishes or your dreams
Imaginary as you might be
I'm sorry but that just aint me
__________________________________________

Truthfacer is almost, I would say, like a cry for help.
Look at me! Help me! I'm real! It illustrates the feeling
of being the smallest person in the world, invisible and
powerless. But it isn't my makebelief. It's how it's actually
like. Millions of people out there are starving; lost in
battle; tormented by diseases that have a cure but the
cost is too high; living in extreme poverty; being sold
for sexual abuse, the list goes on and on and on, trust me,
it doesn't tend to end.
And what do we do about this? We watch it, on TV, for
twenty minutes a couple of nights of the week. Figure
we've done our amount by following the news and
keeping us updated. Then we lean back in our sofas
and switch channels to watch Titanic, and that's when
the tears start coming. It's too difficult to cry over
something real - who knows? It might actually hurt.
You might actually start to feel something! It might
make you feel some guilt, and you might have to do
something, instead of popping open another bag of
chips in front of the telly which is sooo comfortable.
No, no, in that case, yeah, I'd go for Kate and Leo
every time, and cry my heart out over it too. And
you wanna know why? Why would I do so, being
the Poet of the Jar and all?
Well. Because afterwards, I can tell myself it's
allright. It was just a film. And forget about it.
I'm having a hard time doing the same thing
for starvation. And diseases. And sexual abuse...
_________________________________________

My Agony

you've been fed up with life since it was given to you
every now and then you'd like it to end
but you've dreaded death since it was first known to you
and the hatred of this borderline is growing in you

I've been watching your walls since you gave them to me
every then and now I'd like to force them off somehow
just trying to fix things up the way I'd like them to be
and the agony of this no-can-be is growing in me

______________________________________

I wrote this poem on January 15th, 2007. It is meant for
a friend of mine who was, and still is, going through a difficult
depression. God, I just want to stretch out and grab him and
drag him right into the safety of the Jar... even though he
seems to be far out of reach.