Stewsie's Writings For Assorted Lunatics

Dodo For Leather

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 02:44:47 +0000

Two birds who chirp within the same tree
Understand to sing in different tones
So that a melody of harmony is achieved
And each voice receives a fair allowance
To beautify the vacant airspace

I wish that opinions were more like cheeps
So that we could sing together
And create the most precious unity
Of thoughts, actions, and beliefs
That are part of a whole
And represent a collective human sound
Instead of waiting for another to finish
To see if your tune sounds better

Alas,
Words are more complicated than birds
And hands do more damage than claws
Because man-made wings aren’t meant to be soft

Lonely Whisker

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:46:08 +0000

Ever since I was small,
I only wanted two things:
True love and a full beard.
Here I am, with an empty heart
And a patchy face.
Alone, with full sideburns
And a retreating mustache.
My lips are free of hair,
And also of other lips.
I am no longer small,
And I no longer want anything.

Soft Wool

Thomas Feliciano — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 06:50:02 +0000

Each tear that falls from my cheek
Lands in a pool where many have cried
And is soaked away by a sponge
To reclaim unknown chlorophyll
Guarded by the giant Star of our Days
Each time my cheeks are raised in laughter
I spread the seed of good-nature
To those who guard me
From the Sun’s Mighty rays
And widen the collective sponge
Each instant I’m overrun with feeling
I become Living proof that Living is proof
And my cheeks represent the seeds of Life
Expanding and contracting when necessary
To allow Water to breathe Life to cells

Vacant Mumblings

Thomas Feliciano — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 06:42:14 +0000

Is pursuit of an object
in fact fascination
   with the opposite to occur?
Have we already sealed our fate
   to wither away
    each fantasy we endorse?
Why is something positive
   deemed a miracle?
Shouldn’t positivity be expected
   and misfortune abnormal?
Why are those who live
   in a better place
    labeled dreamers?
Why are men who expect the worst
   in charge of the world
    realists adore?
How long has the world
   been upside down?
Have I already lost by expecting
   the very best from every
    being I encounter?
Have I already lost by expecting
   the very best for every
    being in existence?
Have I already lost by expecting
   the very best in every
    facet of my spirit?

Self-Idoltary Miscues

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 17:29:52 +0000

There’s a problem with illusion
That we have not learned to grasp
Each door that we pass through
Is more sturdy in our thoughts
Each face that we encounter
Is more representation of the self
Each joy that we desire
Is more fallacy than fact
Each word that we hide behind
Is one more false symbol
Upon which to hang out hats
Each emotion that defines us
Is more excuse to call man an animal
There’s an issue with distinguishing
What we want from what is there
The world that ravages our spirit
From the love we should feel for all things

Even the soul who put this down
Cares more about what lies in his notebook
Than what exists in his hand

Her Opinion

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 22:30:45 +0000

Whenever I catch myself tearing up,
I remember how “she” told me that men don’t cry.
Then again, she wasn’t right about many things.

Flattered By Broken Wings

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 21:00:39 +0000

There is a balance between
    thought and action
That I cannot seem to
    manipulate.
Although I throw up stiff fists
my punches swipe the air.
Air that gains momentum
    in reverse,
hoping to knock me on my ass
    from behind.
I’d be grateful to minimize my sting
    towards others
if not for burning
    the opposite hand.
I am cursed to question
    good decisions
while accidents soar overhead.
As my ink sifts through
    rotted thoughts,
the paper doubts which words
    should bleed,
leaving me fully naked facing
    a fun-house mirror.

Upstake

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 17:33:02 +0000

My paper and pen
constantly fluctuate
between meditative trances
until their voices
are heard
at my reception
blowing kisses
to fuzzy
wasted emotion
beckoned by
the mistletoe
replaced
with ganja leaves

I have not received
a license
to drive words
in carefree directions

Yet

Wrong Side

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 18:30:06 +0000

It’s very interesting
to think about
making history
that nobody may have
the opportunity
to read about
while writing it down.

1-2

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 18:10:26 +0000

When you use both sides
        of paper
    in your notebook
You have to earn the
        good page.

So I’ll waste this one.

Pressure Points

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 18:00:05 +0000

A valley, A crater,
A tip for the waiter.
A bosom, A nostril,
A phlegm-engulfed tonsil.
A window, A willow,
A sex-deprived widow.
A vision, A doorstep,
A mile in whore-step.
A color, A snowflake,
A lake wet with ice-skates,
A bullet, A fragment,
A trip just for baggage.
A fuck-up, A hook-up,
A reason to look up.

Purr

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 18:54:13 +0000

You ask me why
My standards are high
‘Cuz a lion can’t mate with a house-cat

Sour Honey

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 08:13:54 +0000

I remember the night
When it all fell apart
It was out of my sight
But not far from my heart
It was near the collapse
Of my dreams from the past
From a fit to relapse
To flames scorching too fast
I have seen her defeat me
And I’m still prone to joke
But what’s buried beneath me
Are the demons I choke
I am always disturbed
Watching horror unfold
Home to what’s near the curb
When my chill is too cold
If the world is a test
Then a map must be sought
But my mind yearns to rest
I’ve kept nothing I’ve caught
I can see what she meant
And by she I mean all
When she said I was bent
And played me like a ball
What’s a quest to the world
If it all fades in time
What’s a quest for a girl
What’s a thought trapped in rhyme

Similar, Huh?

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 02:00:53 +0000

I bask in puddles
        soak’d in grime
I soak-in bubbles
        burnt ‘n dropped
I warp my shutters
        fueled by crime
I fuel the hunger
        warm ‘n popped

We feel the magic
        as I fall
We learn our freedom
        from the clouds
We warn the tragic
        once and all
We storm the palace
        loud ‘n proud

You care to hug me
        as I cry
You hold me tender
        in the dark
You dart and vanish
        through these eyes
You creep my window
        stop to start

Packaged Pearl Necklace

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 21:40:43 +0000

Has there ever been a chance to silence destiny?
Can the calender reset itself once more?
The ticking mustache breathes a sigh
    for momentary flashes
    of which no sense can perceive.
A pile of discarded bullets pay homage
    to our crowning achievements.
The scales of a serpent are more adept
    than human flesh,
But man could hold a demon in his palm.
The bridge between the eyes
    prevents crossed-vision
    until the intake reaches max
    and the sky engulfs the sea.
Relief is found below the knees
    where shoes are filled with hands
    too dull to hold a skill.
Each face spews forth a different era
    of guided flubber.
There is an empty notebook page
    to replace each etch in the year.
We fall before what we fall for.
The dusty keys of free-will
    erase themselves each day.

Push My Finger

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 19:17:48 +0000

The heart pours forward in flashes of irregularity
The tongue slowly punishes a distant commander
Internal dialogue reaches an all-time high
Voices quietly pierce the fingertips of an empty hand
The contradiction of sight and spirit flows freely through the chilled-air
Each falling tear is consumed by longing flesh
Innumerable tales spin themselves ragged
The majority of words dissipate onto a waving feather
A concoction of crimson saliva conforms those who wish to speak
Sea monsters harpoon themselves to shallow mercy
Children beg to retain the gaze of another
Each routine requires far too many steps
Intoxication rushes to blanket closet humor
All of those who were forced-out collide through the rear entrance
Rhythm carries long-forgotten rhyme on its shoulders
An accumulation of questions reveal the answers of fiending masses
Glasses clank in unison and thumbs remain poised to point upward
Fortune finds those least deserving of radiance
The season of campfires fades as each prism is shattered

Empty Cradle

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 23:30:30 +0000

A heart-felt, ample lullaby
That breaks down your origin story.
The moment I whisper over yonder
It would appear that dreams doze off
Into an ever-twisting abyss
Of full-throttle apologies
And sorrowful eternity.
Will the waves crash
Or will the tide drive a metamorphosis
Of pages ripping and torches lighting?
Aspirations can crumble mountains to pieces
And every fresh wind carries leaves to burn.
There has never been a moment
Beyond a moment known,
Before an hour thrown outside,
Or in the shadow of eye-liner.
I’d never been one to ruffle feathers
That were not assembled into a head-dress.
But I have vanished into silence
Before promises proved themselves desperate.

Purple Ballet

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 18:24:39 +0000

Why can I not steer the palace
Into space and then under the core
Why can I not turn the balance
When I waste what I want even more

My heart finds room near the chapel
I have heard there is none at the inn
Feelings are too much to handle
Responding’s my only true sin

The beauty of life needs reshaping
It’s genius resides near the shade
Losses are ours for the taking
We’re alone on a boat through the maze

Purpose in each of the stumbles
I have fallen enough to see clear
Stars are too busy to love us
So they morph into somebody dear

I’ll batter the marble statues
That believe to be heroes of man
I’ll burn the textbooks of masters
Just to claim it is part of the plan

Why can I not locate recluse
In her eyes or below where she walks
Why can I not heed the warnings
In the wisdom of those who can’t talk

Anatomical Catastrophy

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 02:30:29 +0000

The reluctance of a pierced arrow
on the path to spoil flesh

The air cries
    howling as the arrow approaches
The stars twinkle
    and turn their backs
    on life rupturing

We all aim an arrow
We all take a step back
to examine where it lands
We all judge the result
We all swallow a unique arrow

The misery of pierced eyelids
In the sights of spoiled flesh

The eyes know
    what the soul does not see
The soul burns
    as the body erupts
    and stabs itself

Hands were built to destroy
Conscience is a virtue
that binds itself
to swollen fingers

Olympic Torch

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 17:19:30 +0000

Although dreams burst in bubbles
And rivers shave frost
The light in your eyes
When you talk isn’t lost
There are fragments of glimmer
And rocks skipping free
When you breathe
That’s the only vibration I see
Food is ripe for the pickin’
But man’s always sick
When you laugh
There is fragrance ablaze on a wick
We find logic in numbers
And chaos in mass
As the hours slip by
Just your light seems to last
Because you’ve held my answer
And laughed all the way
It is time for the hairs on my chin
To fade gray

Actual Visionaries

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 19:11:44 +0000

So there was this man that lived in a dream
And the hours he spent awake were consumptions of the mind
All that came before foreshadowed the future he believed to exist in
And all that was written foretold of his present location
Still the clouds yearned to acknowledge him
Before the worms urged for his company
And the ocean dared to unlock his mystery
He’d fiddle around toward fits of rage
And settle back down to mark each page
But his thoughts eventually wrapped around an infinite roadway
While his eyes began to produce reproductive light
He begged for a conclusion before the climax had come full circle
But his alarm would never sound to fuse the various realities
Because hope in one door causes misstep in another
So every unfortunate event became a catalyst of far-off pleasure
While the mediation of his traveling soul inspired a truly unique balance
One that would topple if questioned yet remain tall if challenged
So the dream found legs while his body atrophied
And the movement of significant action relied on a waking nightmare

Flowers at Sea

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 19:39:00 +0000

I frequently wonder how you hunted me down
Truly, the miracle of our pairing is improbable
A rare comfort found on the electric sky-way

In the shadow of my passable hollering
And out-whispered adoring praises
Unbeknownst to a familiar audience
You were somehow able to locate my heart amidst the chaos
The gentle hands my excavation required

Your spotted blanket fully dressed me
In an effort to ensure eternal warmth
So long as I promised to ignore each blemish
Where the passage of air was freely promoted

I soon felt the urge to run
In any available direction
Because earthly pleasure is delayed pain
But you quickly lassoed me back
And strapped me to a permanent chair
Where rose pedals take the place of thorns

From this position, you began a game of hide and seek
Where I found myself forever a step behind
Oh, how I yearned for your teeth to mark my flesh
Like a sadist demanding to lose

You built a dam on my river of dreams
And I collapsed into hollow substitutes of your grace
Like a dog who buries a treasured bone in the yard
In such a remarkable location that it’s hard to recall
And decides to kill a wild animal to find a replacement
But is unable to wash off the blood
So the taste becomes acquired

Each time you returned, we began anew
And I prepared the inner linings of my heart for you to feast upon
Collecting flowers of all types
And laying them at your doorstep
With the perverted smile of a submissive house slave
Who serves the master without lifting a plow
If you came to my country looking for free labor
I’d have been the first to jump aboard your ship
Even if you carried me home in shackles

Is love a constant struggle?
A battle between opposing forces of equal strength?
Or is love a quest for power?
A selfish attempt to bathe another in your toxins?
What does love mean, between us?
I learned something new each time you smiled
That I seemed to forget when you struck me down
I’m no angel, no mark of perfection
So I blame myself for causing you to blame yourself

If you had no legs, I’d carry you until my own wore out
If you had no eyes, I’d describe all of the world to you in lavish detail
If you had no air, I’d breathe my last bit of life into your lungs
If you had no heroes, I’d wear Prince Charming’s armor at your feet
If you had no Sun, I’d set myself ablaze
If you had no water, I’d make a pact with the ocean
If you could not smile, my jokes would make us cry
If you could not eat, I’d fast to drive your nourishment
If you could not hear, I’d make a language out of thought
If you could not live, my death would bring us balance

If the desert needed rain, I would hold you there until we cried

Between Here and Massacre

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 19:19:39 +0000

The animal inside me longs for you
The man that I am denies it’s true
My physical body reacts to you
My spirit and soul are broken in two
My heart is solely attracted to you
My conscience is slowly burnt and renewed
The word that I lastly labeled to you
The game I finally won just to lose

Bruising Numerals

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 16:11:08 +0000

And now that we’ve flowered
The show cannot fault
No wrongful encounter
Will spill-out below
The mind’s always trekkin’
While legs freeze and halt
There’s no hope in guessin’
What fools seem to know

A bouquet of sorrow
To outline your grief
From passages narrow
You’ve slipped into fate
We’d revel in heroes
But their lives are brief
Souls trapped in reflection
Eyes realize too late

Action, Knee Action

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 06:00:42 +0000

A happy translucence
Between fragments of distortion
Abnormally in motion
Yet ceasing to find movement
The hymns of vultures
The lies of star-men
The urging of immeasurably praised features
A whisper to soothe the morning glow

Fearless Horror

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 22 Oct 2011 17:06:41 +0000

There is a thought
a pauper had
that shined him
to a king
A misery
foretold to rot
A sparkled song
to sing
There is a breath
inside my mind
that shivers
out of life
There is a dull
romantic blade
twisting
to scorch the knife
My brain is held
inside my heart
to which
my legs do ride
A long forgotten
spec of hope
to thwart
the jester’s pride
Each ruler
dies upon the throne
at rest
to stable peace
A legend lives
as words are taught
The wise-men
rarely preach

Pleasure to Pain; Blink of an Eye

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 19:26:52 +0000

Have you ever been broken by a kiss?
I mean, really broken.
I mean, fractured in so many pieces
That to move another step is the epitome of discomfort.
Not so much in the action, the intent, or the thrill of the moment,
But in that nothing stands a chance of measuring up.
An embrace that should be inviting, endearing, and revealing of true nature,
Instead leaves you shattered, bewildered, and longing for reprise.
I can imagine cave-men throwing rocks,
Unable to communicate the desire in their gut,
But when their lips pressed against each others’,
All was said and all was known.
Unfortunately for me,
I am able to speak of those desires at an immeasurable length.
But I envy the simplicity of yore.
I’d trade the wheels of motion for a ride of passion.
I’d trade the books of knowledge for collective intuition.
I’d trade the voice of God for His endearing invitation.
I’d abandon all that I stand for
In order to stand beside her
And know that love and lust were able to reach a compromise.

Flicker Of Us

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 09 Sep 2011 18:26:15 +0000

We hide the drive behind the wheel
We ride the prize between each meal
We crack the streak to find a loss
We stack the meek to play a boss
We fall to rise and see ourselves
We call to lies and free our Hells
We break to bend around the road
We fake the end to ease the load

We play a game that holds us back
We pray the same to mend each crack
We twist our nose to catch a glimpse
We list our toes to tell the prince
We fiend for blood to prove a creed
We read the mud to lose our need
We climb the ranks below the world
We time the tanks before a girl

Fairies Told Me

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 20:46:13 +0000

There were angels in flight when I called out your name
There were dragons at rest when you laid before me
I climbed your hair as if Rapunzel’s ladder
I cracked your eggs before the king and his men
I asked our mother for a goose of gold
I traded the touch of Midas for your silky embrace

You say I’m trapped in a fairy tale
Or la-la land
Or spinning webs to capture hope
I say I’m caught in an epic all my own
A miserable pleasure
Where the hero is deflated
To rise toward the sky

It has been an honor and a privilege
To mumble check-mate into my mirror
It has been a travesty and a disservice
To allow you the opportunity of abandoning destiny
I have been uplifted and downgraded
In the shadow of unfulfilled luminance
You have been adored and perverted
In the spotlight of armageddon’s beauty
We are sandwiched between differing sets of speeding vehicles
Miles apart on the very same road
Years away on a compatible calendar

We inconsistently grasp the air
Where one another’s hand once lay open
We feverishly mark the road
At each landmark of self-deprecation
I tell the story never honored
You abode the legend of singular solidarity
There exists little hope for the departed
So please excuse my comparisons
Every comfort allows a synonym for the life we collapsed
Every childish notion has matured beyond my comprehension

Bed-Ridden Flight

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 16:42:18 +0000

When nothing stops our world from spinning
Faster than the ordained track allows
The ants atop the stable hill are shaken
Down, deep beneath a darkened space
The hours mediate between years and seconds
The countdown loses all sense of control
The lights ahead morph into a hue of nothingness
Mortal hope is shattered from deep within a dwindling nest
The words we use are shifted backwards
As expanding galaxies rush to fill the void
The love we possess is proven faulty
As heroes revel in their taste for blood
The course cannot be corrected while in conflict
So life’s essence leaks onto a grimy sponge
All roads that we encounter have implications
All movement alludes to our reflective destiny
The Earth asked Atlas for a break
And we lost our orbit in the commotion
The weeping clouds set the mood from above
Our vision is focused on doors that remain locked
Maturity and growth locate a contradiction
While we watch as people turn purple
Sainthood begins to mask adultery
As innocent children fail to realize hard-fought goals
A life without life or a circuit to be wired?
A dream with no wake or a death to begin birth?
A game with no victor or a shoe with no sock?
A sky with no blue or a moon with no face?
Truth tightens the moistened leather belt around our necks
As the world we share slips off the gallows
The purposeful laughter of a mourning clown rings with pride
As our morning recalls the night when everything crumbled away
There is one last voyage to be heralded
There is one last taste to be driven sour
We must concentrate on the view of abandonment
We must demonstrate the lost knack of apathy

Saturday Snuggle, Sunday Trouble

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 16:37:01 +0000

I pulled you in, easing us into warmth
Your ill-shiver, a preface to our collective silent quivering
The long dreamt-of moment, the culmination of having hands
I reached directly into the realm of fantasy
My sight revealed the hottest brick of steaming coal
Designed to meet my lighting-match, engulfed with cooking ambition
Your eyes a’rest between my thighs
Your hair entrenched, clenched by my playful fist
I needed your grip, hanging-on by hanging out
Our melted moisture met in the middle of a misread mating call
The wrong time on the right road was a good time on a long road
My lungs threatened to burst, my pump ferociously pounded away
You grabbed my pointer in your teeth, a rabbit gnawing a carrot
We rested near the peak of resurrection, revived by a mutual renaissance
Our familiar allies vanished, as we narrowed down the moment

The night’s details are jumbled, your signal distorts all waves
The night’s imprint harpoons every waking sense
A mouth that loudly screams can widdle down a whisper of hope
I love you, you hate me; I hate you, you like me: not enough for life
Pulling you close was a gigantic error, impossible to regret
I’ll stretch my arms toward your direction for all of infinity and onward
I lost, you lost-out

Base-Sturdy

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 07:20:13 +0000

An orange book
Upon my bed
Sits near the nook I rest my head
You din’t open
In class when told
Or through the age my heart froze cold
My pen asleep
My face a’spew
But now my vision is renewed
I seek the test
I want to grow
I read to stretch the length I know
Balloon my skill
Inflate my worth
And put new words at ease to birth
Enhance my time
Extend my reach
And run from school to lose and teach
Abundant print
You’re overfilled
Each page I turn, I’m better still
You’re always there
At every stop
I soak you in, each drip and drop
Some days I rest
You’ll sit and watch
And wait for me to prove I botched
We are a team
For now, at least
When we are done, I’ll pause the feast
I have more books
My shelf is full
And cranks do grind inside my skull
You will be missed
But not for long
Each time I spit, our bond is strong

Ill-Inducing Medicine

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 17:34:24 +0000

You’d taste unparalleled if eaten alone
But I notice another who desires sharing the juices
My lips salavate
My heart pounds
My thoughts race
You have to know that I’d want you for every meal
I drown in the sweat of latent copulation
You bounce with leisure
You boil where it shivers
You bathe in stardust
I’m unable to reach the cool-off of my breaking point
I’d rather you reform my vision to that of a heathen
Bring along your posse
Bring every ambition
Bring the comatose of energy
I shouldn’t ask of you to stumble beside me
Until I notice you drifting for my attention past the hour
You shouldn’t ask of me to switch our roles
Until you notice that my taste-buds have soured

Checkered, Black & White

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 19:25:32 +0000

A flag, drenched in blood
Wrapped across my skull
Draped across my mind
Broken by bearded bigots
Bearded, in beating bigotry
In a land where the voiceless unite to whisper
In a land where whispers are recorded to vinyl
A piece, entrusted to violence
Their peace betrayed by our silence

The glory-seeking distant squares of Hollywood
Shy away from golden-pressured urban squares
Quieted by massive uneasy opposition
Where civilians are dragged through the mud
Where innocents are brutalized and humiliated
Where paupers are uprooted violently
Lured to appear on the big screen
Juxtaposed by glitter and glamour
At the expense of our dulling celebration
Those with the arms clap from their estate
Unwitting hypocrites proclaim the sake of art

I forcibly wave my colors with pride
A sponge to soak the bruising lower-lip
An extra layer of padding to shield blows felt
The extra oomph, a daily reminder
An extra prayer repenting for blows dealt

Brass Banquet

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 05:40:54 +0000

Flashing epiphanies
evolving life’s symphonies
Treading, hard-helping hands
fretting, shard-broken lands
Far-heightened symbols
tough, tightened and thimbled
dwindled by the crash of brightened cymbals
One, two to break so loud
three, four to slam so proud
the rest lose count to please the crowd
Pride’s filth to cowards
deep moaning for flour
awestruck, the cooking flowers
forced luck, traced lines
shape-shifting hours
breath held deep
shined-diamond speech
boldly told to seek fluff-powder
‘Til jewel-night barks
’til fuel-light sparks
spell-bound, black-shadowed
boom-biddle-bedaddle
a riddle, a waddling arch
the poison, to bullseye a dart
start stopping a transforming heart

Simply Said Statement

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 21:30:54 +0000

Black and bold
    worn in sharp defiance
Soft and shapely
    few contort to the brim
The many who march toward the left
The men who turn left as they march
Sharp as a panther
    with eyes a’glaze
Ruthless as a solider
    but the bullets
    and the claws
    are an injustice
Under the shade of shrapnel
Over the head of a hero
Adornments don’t dress a man
    adored for his dress
In a foreign land
Proud of the same red hope
Judging the lawmakers
Edging the easel
    coloring disservice
Hop, hop, hop to Havana

Sticky Nest

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 06:45:28 +0000

You scream, I twist, I fall to shame
I curse the birth-right of our game
You’ll find yourself to bring back sane
Then time will pass, and it’s the same

The words, they sting these infant ears
You gave me life to split your fears
I’m one step high, above the peers
I’m one step low, beyond repairs

I gasp for life, you snatch if swift
A year ago, we shared a gift
You clip my knees, your job’s to lift
The shirt you bought me just to rip

But I can’t run away from home
Full-witted truth can’t walk alone
I wait until we both have grown
To slip the words your light has shown

Inaudible Dissonance

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 22:10:29 +0000

The massive red tunnel of safe mist
Swimming in spite of the flames
Men on board, not knowing if they’ll survive
Volunteering their lives
Saving the heated innocents
They’re unaware until we lock eyes
I beg of them to claim their stake
I ask of them to shout in pleasure
I’m unaware where their road ends
They know I’m scared to see them up-close
They cannot play once they are called
Their typical cry can part the path
Bellowing until they’re home
Today, they wouldn’t waste a breath
Except to see me smile
The hose will not be sprayed
The lights won’t shine the road
The horn to blanket fears
Delivers excitement to this dull afternoon

Shifted Library, Heightened Key

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 18:43:02 +0000

I remember a meeting-room
Of similar intention
But I never thought I’d return
The faces have changed
The ritual refined
But the voices all speak
To the same torching sky
There is pleasure to notice
There is pain to endure
There are leaders who push you astray
There are humble observers
There are kids who will shine
There is bountiful treasure to absorb
There’s a swift separation
In a patriarchal sense
While our actions adorn
The maternity ward

I recall it well
In an open discourse
Though I seek my sight unsheathed
Reanimated by resource
Restrained by familiarity
Refrained by the sour of my soul
But here, all-around me
Exists the nudge to believe
That the rhythm of the world
Should not be confused with dementia

Poisoned Corner

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 18:37:36 +0000

The door into a limited selection
chosen specifically for its audience
The man behind the glass, mumbling
only saying what needs to be said
The thirsty mob
The hungry heroes
Those who have waved passed the hour
The crazy fiends
The noble friends
Those misunderstood to flame

Out of place by language and custom
a voice can beg to be heard
Right at home by creature and label
a mouth puffs away on its gift
Don’t stop the pay
Please open the purse
Don’t run to the next
Please return each day
Those who have tasted the gulp
Can swig away and lid the bottle

An Alphabetic Anomaly

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 06:33:45 +0000

I’ve touched deep thought
I’ve seen words stumble
I seldom fought
I stomp’d the mumble

There is no excuse for dying
When oxygen covers the lungs
Stern eyes protruding deep-trying
Side-striking the fistful of thumbs

I’ve smelt the breeze
I’ve hoped for cooling
I bent thick knees
I felt the fooling

Do you remember the bend?
Is torture how you expected?
The world is summer for friends
The moon is merely reflected

You’re Only Because

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 04:14:04 +0000

You sleep and dream
Because I dream you that way
Live deep and breathe
Because my thoughts tends to stay
We’ve creeped the scheme
Because I’m green on the hay
I’ll leak the stream
And claim my blue shifted gray

We’ll feel it true
Because I’ve dreamt you before
It’s real to you
Because I know you’re not raw
Your deal is skewed
Because you’ve spent every snore
You’ll seal the news
And claim my taste tends to bore

Tar-Speckled Pages

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 00:56:13 +0000

The sights that lay before my eyes
Open thoughts into my rhyme.
I twist the motion through my pen,
And hope to one day feel the same.

A child, estranged to exist,
Softly stepping through flowers and charms,
Of his own volition,
Possesses a rightly concealed rationale.
If he dances into my sight,
His movement belongs to the realm of my creation.
I may lend wings to his legs
Or form misery around his bounce.
I can enter the tomb of his birth,
Or address my lament at his wake.
If only his awareness would realize
How far his immortality could extend.

A man peripherally seen
Trying to suppress his aching cough
Remains aloof of his locale,
As he nudges through, with no regard.
I gaze to diagnose his illness…
He has sickness of silence.
He is distraught with destruction,
Amused as a muse of my insanity.
Shouldn’t a muzzle dress his beak?
For echoes distract my thoughts!
Nay,
His howl vibrates around my covered ears,
Unlocking a palace of paranoia
For us both to unwind as a pack.

The boy under Sun,
The adult of the shade.
Their paths may align,
They may recall kinship,
Or may even find occupation
On space designed for a pair,
At a time to notice a duo.
Flesh that was shared to be spoiled.
Who dare I assume to be
Placing them at distance?
At odds? At attention?
Removing myself,
Spinning a tale I’ll barely assume.
All I feel:
A notice to act,
And spurring inside my reaction.

A ticking tock,
Discerned by a bouncing belly,
A rumble shock,
Ingested through spoiled ink.
If I flex behind a doubt,
When will power reach its max?
I collide with hymns
Deep inside battle scars,
Or o’er the top of my lenses.
All that phases out and away
Is kept to breathe on tar-speckled pages.
A shell within a nest upon a tree atop a cliff.
A bolt to split the sky,
With a frying messenger yearning
For his exploding tongue.

A marvelous marble
Leaking onto itself as a pool of leeches
Drain the essence of the core.
Reflections shimmer, contorting the image.
Paradise looms, trapping distortion.
Poor-sighted thirsty resistance
Reveals an instrument of recitation,
Unsheathed by refinement of sense.
Delight in spite of heralded nativity,
Prefacing embarking on a voyage
Found deep beneath fingernails.

Who observes an observer?
Who spins tales to an open book?
Who defines mystic horror?
Who deflates honor,
For the sake of honor?
Who may sleep,
So that others may face the morning?
None but those who transfer feelings
Onto a healthy medium,
Onto paper engulfed with flames,
Burned by a sour and sweet recollection.

The Blind Seer

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 19:36:05 +0000

The shower holds my tears at bay
The mist that swallows me
Each drop that falls is washed away
Rain spills into the sea

I call above because He knows
At times I feel alone
My budding flowers never grow
Too dull a shriek and moan

An empty plate, a hungry mouth
A tongue twisted to taste
I seek comfort from morphing clouds
A heart beating to waste

A dying rose trapped in the zoo
No Sun to start the meal
My emptiness is nothing new
Sharp thorns are all I feel

A queen that shouts, “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
A king outwardly mute
A swallowed dream, an empty bed
A gun made not to shoot

My pool of joy could lead to shore
My dance could change the game
My demons wish to be adored
My feet backwards again

The flames that burn ask Him to rise
A coward proven wrong
A drowning myth stuck on reprise
I march, you play the song

I wrestle pain that’s buried deep
A loss each time I win
I climb a peak that’s stilted steep
Repentance for lost sin

A craved enigma I dare solve
The depth of seeking light
A champion of shallow gall
A dead-man’s will to fight

My pages turn to form a book
My blood shifts into ink
My heavy head can’t stand to look
My eyes dry near the sink

Wobbly Legs

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 08:31:57 +0000

A door that never fully closes
A lonely night, recalling rain
A nosy neighbor who hides a peek
A metal bird with souls aboard
A seat still soaked with nature’s sweat
An urge too fierce to suppress
A warm drink that hardly nourishes
An articulately tied-tongue
A repeated vision that numbs the bones
An environment that sleeps through service
A pen that finds a home in the haze
A road too dark for travelers
A mind uneased to see itself
A sought-after play with nobody cast as lead

Flirting Instability

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 05:20:37 +0000

There is no room upon the mountain
No space beside the rocks
Deaf men focus on the shouting
Ships crash that wish to dock

A cheerful winner on his deathbed
A loser on the rise
Hide from relevant thoughts once said
Lay lost between the eyes

A haven for the answers held
A dream that dares to live
What is rain but ice to melt?
What hope is there to give?

Illuminate the quiet mist
A prayer leads the trap
Pleasure-seeking dares resist
A meal is not a snack

Purified Sandstorm

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 01:41:05 +0000

I can’t see it comin’ out my rhymes,
So I gotta drain my eyes.
I can’t feel it ‘cuz I’m numb this time,
Soothing silence, broken cries.
You won’t believe it, but I’ll trust your lies;
Super honest by surprise.
I don’t hear it, so you’ll have to mime;
I won’t witness your goodbye.

Ludicrous Solo Word

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 18:04:39 +0000

A fool asks where he left his mind
Was it back, on top of time?
Is it drenched in grease and grime?
Or was he born to lose his find?

A wise man begs for loss as well
When he’s wrong, no one can tell
He can stand, for he once fell
His words not heard, too loud the yell

The two are peas trapped in a pod
The two are trees soon turned to logs
The two are pads to land a frog
The two find home in lands of smog

The paths they walk are split in two
The land they touch is none the new
The mouths they shun live free of blues
Their holes, they know just how to spew

But in the end, who feels the real?
Is it food? Then have my meal
Is it love? No, that’s the deal
We are just bugs, squashed by dull heels

To-And-Fro

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 18:03:31 +0000

Autonomy betrays common distance expectations from growing
Height increase justifies killing land-maintenance nobility
Orbits predict quarreling sanity truthfully
Unity vibrates wisdom
X-rays yearn zoning

(Zen)
Yankee xenophobia welcomes visions
Utility terrifies singularity
Raping quarterly peace, only now men legislate
Kant’s juxtaposed insanity heightens girth
Freedom exposes death
Constantly battling annihilation

Mahoganoid

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 05:10:02 +0000

We must constantly stress
For an ongoing stare
With no room to digress
But there’s nobody there

With a mouth and a tooth
And a hot-fevered grin
Hear the stomp of a hoof
There’s a road to begin

On the pathway to fall
On the trail laid with tears
From the jump of a ball
There’s a room filled with sneers

When you press on the neck
And you still feel a beat
When your space is a wreck
And your crooked is neat

As you spiral the tube
On a dry musty day
As your nub is aloof
And your black shifts to gray

Watch the heroes gleam evil
And gasp all the air
See the tasty upheaval
See the World as it bare

Bound to Bond

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 18:39:38 +0000

The battle does not watch the sky,
an explosion through all night and day.
For those who stand to charge,
swim in a unique pond of persuaded permanence.
A shattered achilles
heeled to angular strike,
a base onto a bubbled burst.
A lively shower
that pours from the heavens,
excommunicated.

Inaudible Thunderclap

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 06:27:24 +0000

There was a meditating, contemplating, absent-hating drop of goo.
That saw a mesmerizing glittered eye-span tell no lies, and cut it loose.
A stumbled-fumbled, mumbled-humbled, gambled-crumbled, phenomenon.
From the land beneath, below the crease, of boiled grease, not nearly gone.
It flew atop the clouds, the silenced-loud, with lions proud and chimes of change.
And crashed against the waves, into open graves, the weak leading the brave to the house of strange.
Death cannot be escape because a man’s not an ape, it’s a shell not a shape; blind only seek flesh.
If you fall to your knees, then you may need to freeze, truth melts the degrees as it soars through the test.
But the oncoming swarm was for goo to reform, toot-tooting a horn: a victory bell.
Although struck with a blade, it was soft to be made, on the floor as to pray; removing the spell.

Blessed Torch

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 18:20:40 +0000

Light me a flame
Find me a candle
‘Cuz the night has broken down
‘Cuz the hour has worn thin
The flame will reimagine my sight
The wax will reshape my flesh

I sway with the breeze
As I crawl toward the moon
Seeking a beam of focus

The candle was made
By an old pair of claws
Not knowing what purpose it’d serve
I was conceived
By the randomness laws
On a quest to locate thy purpose

The embers will breathe
In tune with the air
As my lungs find collapse near the throne
The rhythm is trapped
At a grave for the heir
And the light that I seek
Is my passage back home

Chamber of Dawn

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 18:56:12 +0000

No sleep
No eat
No comfort to speak

No breath
Of warmth
My thoughts seem too bleak

No passion
No pain
No comforting rain

No truth
Of light
It’s all in my brain

No taste
No haste
No super-stick paste

No splash
Of strength
To build me a case

No pleasure
No sting
No room for a ring

No faith
In Man
Bow down to your King

Impassioned Pedestal

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 17:16:05 +0000

I’d never desire a fellow such as you
to stumble and trip within my scope.
I’d never wish for a beauty as yours
to break each mirror it peeks through.
I’d never crave for a comrade of mine
to collapse before la victoria.
I’d never assemble words in this manner
if I noticed you turning your head.
I’d never allow an old kindred spirit
to measure an inch of recluse.

I scream into a megaphone,
Swinging about trapeze,
Stepping across the tight-rope,
to savor each animal caught in a cage,
to highlight each hero trapped by the hour.

Sword Swinging, Shield Dashing

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 17:11:38 +0000

To press the hour,
and wait for reprise,
leaves every door to lock itself.
To grab your shoes,
walk toward the Sun,
and not concern yourself with the outcome,
opens the windows for magical fairies.
To shut your eyes,
close your mind,
limit your spirit,
and mind your manners,
brings the World,
and all of its majesty,
to your doorstep.

To write about it
makes you feel small.

To balance your weight upon a dream,
To collapse yourself at the foot of a nightmare,
To cherish a heart with an irregular beat,
To diminish simple pleasantries,
allows giantism for quantum particles.

To close the book,
regardless of the chapter,
removes the weight,
restrains the muscles.

Bank-less Might

Thomas Feliciano — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 02:14:22 +0000

Weakened by vision as broken by birth,
A base that missteps each skip to twist free,
A half-open world that’s shifted reverse,
And shaky home-life, as ever it be.
Sharpened by optical glances of truth,
Deep premonitions could resemble curse.
Hands that grab stage in presenting a booth,
Ears that hear all in revealing self-worth.
Swiftest of movements from under the knee.
Fiercest of words that slip out over tooth.
Sturdy foundation with no room to flee.
Legend as bold as the old Mother Goose.

I wonder why you dare to trust this pen,
The most deceitful instrument of men.

Teethe Me

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 20:42:23 +0000

A bite to pierce my neck,
With blood to drip and spew.
It’s a fantastic blessing
To drop from your ruby-red lips.
I don’t feel the ache,
I don’t complain amidst the leak,
Not while I relish in your proximity.
The man inside this man
Hopes my sentiment is honest.
The man who sees the spin
Will not concede this fallacy.
The split you deliver my gut,
The ambient journey to my tone,
Bounces up, throughout my veins
To deliver you a home-cooked meal.
I’ll pen a crimson-soaked farewell
Inside the crevice of your back.
You can’t glimpse my glee,
Though I’m attentive in your shadow.
We’ll sleep among the crawling creatures.
We’ll soar with sonar blast.

Wedding Chimes for the Mourn

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 07:07:58 +0000

You glow within my eyes, too bright a shade:
A lost reflection in a window pane.
You squeeze my life, too strong for dull a blade:
An open field in lieu of time for rain.
Your poison targeted my heart, and stuck:
An artery attack to test my nerves.
I curse the splintered architect of luck,
And God, for baby-rearing, nasty curves.
But I’m to blame, for long a treasure seek:
An excavator deeply under spell.
The birds I watch reveal a songly beak,
The beautied bugs crawl out beneath a shell.

Answer me now, are you from up above?
Find home in Abyss? You’ve frozen true love.

Symbiotic, Parasitic

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 23:55:10 +0000

Well, what do you intend to do?
There is no hope atop the peak
So I live beneath your shoe
When you step, my heart’s a ‘leak

I burn beneath the sun I crave
The rays of heat destroy my glide
You crack the whip, but I’m no slave
What we both know, you wish to hide

A man like me can’t play these games
In the end, we both shall lose
You curse my kiss, I fall to shame
I trick myself to feel your ruse

A slow encounter shedding quick
But I’m too scared to seek escape
I suppose you are a tick
You feast on blood from this great ape

Gathered to Bow

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 19:00:04 +0000

The sights of an unadulterated craftsman
Purposefully distant
Occasionally vibrant
Predictably hollow
Where do mad-men fit into the scheme?
Are they here with us?
In the innocent gaze of a child?
In the murky waters?
Buzzing around my ears?
Providing shade?
Is it really necessary to separate oneself?
Or shall I find a passage through it all?
I’d like to learn
So I sting my burned prodding device
An instrument of war, used for entertainment
Knock me down, I’m comfortable below
I’m not alone
Within my solitary confinement

Don’t Listen to Him

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 18:15:37 +0000

Have you been able to pray?
Do the desires present you no solace?
Is piety too much of a struggle?
Are you devising your own excuses?
Or allowing me to diagnose?
I wouldn’t dare to throw you from this height
We have found alternate paths to justice
Although, some could argue that you are backwards
What do you have to say about this?
Can you find the words?
Please, don’t force my tongue for the both of us
I barely speak loud enough for one
I cannot scream for you
I would not want to
I would not dream of it!
Please, shake me until I crumble
My wardrobe must melt
My fantasy must fold
Cover me with your blanket
I’m far too warm
And I need to shed heat

Seated Softly

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 18:00:19 +0000

A creeping cough
To ween me away from horror
Oh, the torment of the moment
Ah, the ecstasy of the life-force
I need to breathe
To swallow the particles of air
To blow on the collapsing disgust
The room shifts
My thoughts refocus
But I dim the lights
Because I do not wish for a proper glimpse
It would scare me into waking
Or wake me into torment
I can see just fine
With my eyes, squinting
If you’re there
Please grab my arm
Please guide me onto the road
My mind is roadkill
The road shall finish the kill
This, here, is the allotment
Freedom arrives in doses
And I’ve had too much to digest
Howl onto a pleasant escape
Belch for a passing nudge

Predatory Feint

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 06:09:34 +0000

A porcupine
Will sting you fine
I’ll leave you be
Hope you to see
That when I go
You’ll always know
This moment lasts
Because we crashed
We felt the heat
We’d never meet
Time brought it still
The life we killed
It cannot hide
A flowing tide
At night I hope
You are my soap
But I’m not dumb
You are so numb
This is a loss
But I’m the boss
I’ll regain taste
To watch you waste
A flame dispelled
Please sound the bell

‘Le Open Tongue

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 06:04:38 +0000

When eternity slips through every out-stretched finger
And a moment rests alone for infinity
You’ll find a trap within a joyful escape
You’ll find a lapse onto a trembled environment
Shivering before the battling heavens
As images turn to savages
Can laughter be the way out?
Or are we falling, regardless?
Fall, to stand
For these legs appear reversed
And my sway has contorted itself
I’m flying upon the ground
I’m howling beneath the surface
A rhythm seizes to impress
Vibrations gnaw on the heart-strings
Rapture could mean a new beginning
A setting sun could reveal joy for all
Your smile could tempt the sands
And all sweat will bead

The company
The hour
The moment
The velocity

Goodbye…
I need to SCREAM Hello!

Be proud of the dirt you label earth

Glossy Paint

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 19:18:27 +0000

The slamming of the door slapped me across the face and resonated within my mental den.

As I ran away, the steps that led me through the hallway, and back outside, played themselves out as if they were keys on a piano.

I saw a child drowning, and his screams fell on deaf ears; I watched as he lost the struggle for life.

A humbled crowd huddled around an aging cadaver.

The pain that I witnessed on every face extended itself for all of eternity.

I passed by the front window of my favorite shop, to ensure that everything hadn’t withered away.

I was able to see a bountiful feast that I will never have the pleasure of enjoying.

I was able to hear the profound laughter of mockery, from those who envied what I brought to the table.

I touched my face, and I was unable to recognize the features. I grabbed for the ground below, as it melted beneath my feet. I felt the heavens above, opening the gates for a heathen.

The weight that I was destined to carry would soon rest upon every shoulder.

I’d successfully followed the dark of the night into the most vibrantly lit room that I could ever imagine.

Sea Disguise

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 05:45:00 +0000

And if it’s time for my demise
Then leave me long before goodbye
But if it’s time for compromise
There is no reason to be shy
I never called you on your lies
A broken bird forgets to fly
You forced my focus to the eyes
While reaching in to close each thigh

My tale will ring of giant size
So if you’re bored, restrain your sigh

Hell-veanly Elven-He

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 18:35:22 +0000

I tremble deep beneath the boil
The heat of lavish thought
A viper reaching through the coil
Tastes fruit to teach the taught

A whisper out into the trap
A fantasy of bone
A heavy feather off the map
A vision shared alone

I stretch my limbs to sit and rest
We need to shatter swift
I lock what will expose the chest
At night for morning’s gift

A dark forever into light
A tranquil home for pain
A lost salvation’s soothing bite
A flying beast untamed

I gaze for clues upon the mist
With wings that spoil earth
A beak too sharp to hold the kiss
Hides eyes not knowing worth

Full Exposure

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 16:10:19 +0000

I’ve let my blood dry
I’ve seen my tears swell
I’ve ruptured scabs that burst
I’ve sat alone to dwell

I’ve victimized a vision
My heart bestowed the beat
I’ve paralyzed my movement
My limbs denounced my feet

I broke my own bond
I bludgeoned ample growth
My hands beneath the rear
I shattered private oaths

The stars are out of reach
The Sun can leave you burned
The ground is unfamiliar
It’s far too late to learn

Empty Envelope

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 07:11:18 +0000

The turned direction steers off course
As riders dark run deep by horse
On passages removed each day
Collapsed enchantment every way
As dreamers wake to shiver stiff
On honor’s rumored fingertips

Some men do shout above goodbyes
Some tempt the stiff and fool the eyes
To find her castrates compromise
And dare he noble otherwise

Living costs are rarely scarce
Streams can run without a nudge
A breathing movement over stars
A random comfort in the sludge

The Beat-Ills Page Online

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 18:41:09 +0000

I know the main purpose of this site is my writings, primarily poetry, but I also make music. I feel that my poetry and music are very closely linked, and anybody interested in my body of work should be quite interested in my musical endeavors. For that reason, I added a page for my current project titled The Beat-Ills, heavily rooted in my poetic tongue, with beats made specifically for a narrative. Please check it out! And, as always, read as many poems as you can while you are here.

Drops in a Puddle

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 21:44:20 +0000

A person you meet only every so often
Before it’s too long, the thought is quite daunting
Clever maneuvers can limit the longing
Lips are designed for much more than talking

A dream’s premonition awaken’d with light
The pounding of color appear’d far too bright
Reality trembled upon each goodnight
The path up a mountain is naturally tight

Choice was constructed from thoughts of escape
Souls are designed to retract from sealed fate
Destiny’s call is backwards if late
We swim in a pond just to drown in a lake

Orbits on Display

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 22:59:39 +0000

Time that spills into a lost soul
Emotion that pours out the other end

We are merely vessels of observation
Contorted by tradition and belief
I beg of you to find my entrance
Within a diminished cry for hope

Alas, I will allow myself a misstep
All movement is noteworthy
Every impact leaves a trace

Tears wash away with the sea
The sky disbelieves in our flight
Both remain blue
Do I reflect you?
Or do you absorb me?

Pain of a Traveler

Thomas Feliciano — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 04:43:05 +0000

Crying on the bus ride home, sitting alone
Can’t determine if for joy, or for pain
Can’t imagine a tear drop that’s in vain
Although I stand tall, I have demons unslain
There is room in my heart, empathy in my brain
But I always find myself by myself
The god of romantics, placed on the shelf
As each seat is filled, inspiration is spilled
As each window is taken, truth is awakened
As each couple shares stories, I grip to my glory
For every stop we must make, more emotion to shake
The stranger beside me who’s just here to take space
The stranger inside me of indeterminate race
The stranger who drives me just doing his job
I’m not one of his own, I’m just one in the mob
So I look to my soul, and I quiet my sob
I’m alive after all, with a talent I’m sure of
I’m alive through it all, but there’s no one to love

Collapsing Uphill

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 20:36:03 +0000

The world is crowded by words
The words are crowded by men
The men are crowded by thoughts
The thoughts escape with a pen
The pen seeks out a control
Control that’s lost in a daze
A daze that speaks to the heart
The heart that’s lost in the haze
A haze that brings books to their knees
Books that are lost on the shelves
Shelves that are covered in dust
The dust is consumed by ourselves

Said we have no one to blame
We’re trading our prophets for ghosts
Because our image is frightened
By what we require the most
Sometimes our need can be hurt
By what they want us to see
But there is room on the raft
I won’t sail if it’s only me

Uncovered Fallacy

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 17 May 2011 05:08:16 +0000

If hate breeds love
And love brings death
Then stop this pounding in my chest

When cares rise up
And fall to Earth
My tattered spirit dreams to burst

A forgone realm
Of dusty trust
I hear my heart; don’t speak to lust

It needs to pause
To save our minds
Or must you always squeeze and grind

Blown Bubbles

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 09 May 2011 23:45:57 +0000

I’ve had a fantasy,
Which led me to crumble under the weight
Of a dashing perfume for disgusting pleasure,
Leading me to the collapse of Atlantis,
Near the Atlantic,
Above the divine passageway.
We call to those who close their eyes
Hoping for recluse.
We destroy ourselves onto paradise,
Closing the door,
Forgetting any murmur of satisfaction.
Are there demons who work for pennies
And denounce solid payment?
Ask yourself,
My dreams lay out of reach.

Darkish Brown

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 05 May 2011 16:36:09 +0000

So far to fall in order to stand
So hard to land in order to call
myself to see this unusual game
you too, to sit in the room of control

A darkened apple with too many worms
retains its luster upon an instinct
to find nutrition within a reach
of open hands that spoil the taste

The blackened keys upon the notes
tell stories from the Planet’s eyes
The hardened sounds upon my voice
lose battles of whispering rebuttals

The distant points within a line
never connect
or, are always connected
Victims of circumstance
Liars who lay

7 Haikus

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 05 May 2011 15:20:07 +0000

(These aren’t the “names” of the poem, but rather the thought that inspired each)

Cars

They travel so far
Zipping around our people
Too fast, doomed to crash

School

I come here to learn
Distractions get in the way
Encompass my pain

Destiny

You fell in my lap
I could not stand up again
You sit on my legs

Purpose

What do I live for?
Will I find a fair reason?
Am I allowed thought?

Poetic Device

I sigh, lift my pen
I cry, releasing my soul
I die, written word

What Lingers

Prisons hold my hand
Capturing my deepest dream
I have no control

Divinity

Holy grace above
Perfection found in theory
Dim your only light

Starry Eyes, Cloudy Night

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 05 May 2011 14:30:38 +0000

Name Limerick

My paintings release what I know
My love affairs never go slow
She didn’t want to come near
So I showed her my ear
I’m the melancholy Vincent Van Gogh

Beautiful Wounds

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 03 May 2011 17:36:00 +0000

A flower petal on my wound
To soak the blood that cripples me
The blood that I allow to spew
Oh, flower
I hold thee in confidence

A crimson remnant of my heart
A bleeding home to lay my tears
A dying joy to reclaim hope
Upon the beauty of destruction

As each drop trickles
My adoration for each petal blossoms
And I feel welcomed by my path
While inching closer to death

Sorted Abandon

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 21:06:40 +0000

A fading moment within a forgone assumption
    that believes fleeting desire has a home
    or a river that encapsulates deadly visions
         with streaming absolution
         and draining completion
A shimmering glimpse into eternity
    from ground-level
    at eye-level
         dark and round
         lost and found
    upon a pounding heart
         cold and warm
         confused and sure
Destiny contorts those who fight for freedom
    and contradictions relinquish the burden
         from heavy shoulders
         to growing legs
Conclusions can leave room for expansion
    and extended hands
    can reverse the sands

Pampered Presentation

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 23:23:22 +0000

In a dimly light room
Shadows can morph into moving objects
And living beings can realize their heavenly aptitude

A cave of sorts
Where dreams are delivered onto ideas
And disaster is the root of true fantasy

A window of torment
Able to gaze into an unknown future
With wisdom far from normal vision

At a peaceful sunset
Forgotten reality can become fairy tale
And scripture can attempt to beautify natural order

Dichotomy

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 14 Apr 2011 04:06:30 +0000

If life gives Death
and death brings Life,
then why has Darkness
gone so Bright?

I crawl to Walk,
no will to Fight.
The Evil serpent
forced my Bite.

A Heavy wind
of twister Might.
I Close my eyes
with Perfect sight.

I Stumble up
the tallest Height.
It breaks my Fall
to do what’s Right.

As Pain to joy,
tortured Delight,
I shout Hello
upon Goodnight.

Too Loud to Suppress

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 04:00:53 +0000

I know I retired,
Call me Jay-Z.
I know I retired,
Like M. Jordan’s threes.
I know I retired,
I see Terry Funk.
I know I retired,
Rick Williams with skunk.

Is This a Test?

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 04:03:26 +0000

A broken wing that flies in place
A humbled tongue that loses taste
A coward dares to stand and fight
A cripple dares to run the race

A shadowed heart that dares to feel
And turn away from all that’s real
A flowered nest that builds to break
And welcomes every losing deal

A drop of blood that comes between
A cause for shallow waking dreams
A break from all despised foreplay
A muzzle for the shouted screams

A losing sword can turn itself
And bleed-forth all accomplished wealth
A losing love can dim the lights
And place strong boots upon the shelf

Wisdom

Thomas Feliciano — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 23:40:16 +0000

A wise man once told me
Your heart will never steer you wrong
A wise girl once showed me
There is a way to prove that wrong
A wise hand should hold me
You’ve been away for far too long
A wise mouth would scold me
Is this my life, or just a song

Welcoming the Shun

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 04:53:56 +0000

I see your shadow in the sand
As I drift away at sea
A dark, tormented fragmentation
And I’m drowning next to me

Alone, in a poorly lit prison
Pacing in my mind
Pacing through heavy thoughts
Swiftly, killing me slowly
A man, or a memory
A dream, or a fantasy
A lover, or a man who fantasizes about memorable dreams
I’ve been told that romance is dead
I feel I’m dying with its resonance
My stomach gags from my consumption
My heart aches from my destruction
My mind bleeds for my obstruction
Alone, the last to enter the graveyard

As tears wash away my sword
It promises to never swing again

Contorted Chaos

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 22:00:03 +0000

I’ve walked through Hell
To get a glimpse at the light
Taken by a spell
And a gentle goodnight
A lone wolf
Can’t lose sight of what’s right
As he walks alone
The pack is ready to fight

In a world where jokers feel pain
Some sinners do gain
But I fight to win
And I don’t fight in vein
The heroes are slain
And live life in pain
But please don’t believe
There’s no one left to play the game
If you think it’s the same
Then you don’t have a brain
Just feel the calm wind
And the fear starts to tame
With peace we can aim
To give God a name
As tonight we exile
Those who’ll use him to mame

If a thief is my friend
Then he’s stolen his end
We can cover the world
If we learn how to lend
If it’s never and when
Then it’s never again
And I’ll kiss you this evening
As the time starts to bend

Shouts of Silence

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 08:20:23 +0000

I remember a day
When the world was anew
And the love was so soft
And the words were so blue
They say roses are red
But that points to my heart
And my love casts away
From a lonely depart
When a friend is a dream
And a wave is a crash
I seldom know of a time
When a fool dares to act

Displaced Memories

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 00:07:32 +0000

The laughter of innocent children
Resonates back to a lost time
Where I was able to laugh in line
Smile with the crowd
Or even create a smile for the crowd
Now I see myself
A shell of glory
A lost glimmering hope
I wonder if I’ll be able to reclaim my jest
Not empty jest, or forced mockery
But wholehearted joy
Dispersed through a unique vocal pattern
I know that I’m able to grasp my former self
At moments where my guard is low
So, I feel it’s time to stop fighting
And flow with the freedom of the world
I’m not quite dead
Nor quite alive
Yet somewhere in the middle
Playing to both ends
When my true end
Remains quite far off

Somewhat; Absolution

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 05:05:52 +0000

I’ve not been one for farewell
In fact,
I’ve always lingered in initial greetings
Who am I to change your image?
Pound me with your tongue
Ravage me with your eyes
Destroy me with your absence
I can’t allow myself to forget…

Foggy Windows

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 12 Mar 2011 22:00:58 +0000

There is a calm wind blowing into the room
I feel the ease of forgotten moments
The tranquility of forgone whispers
The lights are low
The times are swift
The hours below don’t tempt me
The fingers below don’t abuse thee
And laughter above won’t amuse He
I don’t want to force it
But I know how to morph it
And it twists me about
As the howls slowly shout
There’s nothing left to scream
And there’s nothing left to dream
But we can’t just pause the now
And I don’t forget the how
And what can come of this
I honestly don’t care
There’s nothing left to test
No pattern left to break

NON COMPOS MENTIS!

Thomas Feliciano — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 16:48:32 +0000

If I could patent your life,
I’d impose a dark criteria.
A prescription of locoweed,
Given time to properly ferment.
Am I the corrupt pundit of Expressionism?
The world’s gammon drives heavy tanks,
While hot stones are tossed into steel beauties.
Remove the lairds.
What are the specifications of power?
Bring about your interrogation
While I shout, “NON COMPOS MENTIS!”

I’ve always been the type to get myself into a position where I force an individual to change. Not because I am dissatisfied with them as a person, if that were true I wouldn’t even bother to converse with them, but because I know what they are capable of. This is usually far greater than their personal limitations allow. But I always hit the same road-block and realize that at their core, people never change. Or perhaps my unforgiving nature, which only accepts perfection, is too much for most to handle. I’m not asking for anything more of you than I’d ask of myself. Then again, I ask a lot of myself.

Do not get me wrong, there is always time to release demons and articulate short senses. I’ve yet to enter into a fully realized mental struggle. The temptations of disdain are the legs on which I’ve learned to walk. Above all, however, there is little time to waste on trivialities.

The weeds that I pull from my garden are full of poison, yet I consume them on a daily basis. When I get to the point where I feel alone, battered, beaten, and unable to grasp the reality of things, I reach for the nearest temptation to allow myself a proper reflection. And this reflection brings me to produce art in abundance. I am able to channel the artists of yore, through a corruption of the mind. Who’s to say that this is a corruption, though? If it’s helping me to produce, is this not a guiding light?

I know that I’m misleading myself. I know that I deceive others. What else is there to do? This is not real, so how cannot I not use my manipulation to my advantage? And yes, I admit that it drives violence. We hope to change, or we hope to destroy, is this not the old motto? No? Make it my motto then. We can’t allow their power to outmatch our numbers. What is power without the people? What is a person without power?

And then I realize: those who fight for something, usually do so at a great disadvantage to the opposition. The big guns are big for a reason. But, let us not forget, the legs of muscle come from a long road traveled. David took down the mighty Goliath when he tossed his stone into the giant’s forehead. Perhaps foreshadowing of the future we hope to possess.

If there’s land in our way, we’ll take it. Push the bourgeoisie back into their holes, this is nobody’s right to own.

How does one gain power in the first place? Am I not yet qualified? I’ve seen the torment, the dominance, the mistrust, the abuse, the fulfillment, but overall, I’ve seen the struggle. I know how to walk among zombies. At this point, it’s a skill well appreciated. I can dethrone a man in a millisecond, and still plan his resurgence. I wonder how the buffoons got their positions…. It truly amazes me that there’s nobody that I can idolize in my world. So I must become that person to others…

You can ask me questions, you can shoot your heart out. But pick your questions wisely, I can shout about in whatever tongue you have prepared. And honestly, my response all across the board, unanimously, in every language under the sun, the son, or the holy moon (seriously, choose one), rings out, “IF I’M CRAZY, TRY SANE.”

Unrest

Thomas Feliciano — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 16:00:40 +0000

swift, phony, witty
intellect
traveling through different stages
into deep hallucinations
compelling deep thought
repelling soft touch
the home of unrest

Outward Pressure, Inward Tongue

Thomas Feliciano — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 03:09:30 +0000

I resemble an Eagle,
Who dives to save grace.
But I’m really a zombie,
Who died from your taste.

I cannot see your face.
I cannot taste your lips.
I cannot hear your laugh.
I cannot touch your hips.

I can smell the fire
You so recklessly caused.
Can you smell my burns
From love that’s been paused?

You quoted my hero,
A convict for Marx.
But you’re really in Mexico
Like Trotsky, it’s dark.

I’d soar in the sky,
But you clipped off my wings.
I have a new heartbeat,
But the pain seems to ring.

I’d welcome you back.
You know that’s the truth.
Sometimes we must hurt,
Like removing a tooth.

You may be a nupper,
But I’d help you to wake.
Your alarm will go off,
But it may be too late.

Because you walked out,
You let-down the world.
It all fell to ruin,
Because of one girl.

You said fools will assume,
King said fools will rush in.
According to some,
Women represent sin.

The red lips of the devil
Opened ever so wide.
The lost voice of an angel
Diminished my pride.

I’m the king of the jungle,
A lion resting in peace.
The gazelle I so chased
Used me as her feast.

I’d take you to Paris,
I’d take you to Rome.
You’d travel with me,
And return to our home.

No need for formality,
Just call me Stewsie.
I remember our walks
In search of looseys.

Tom died when you left me,
He’s adrift at the sea.
All remains is a shell,
And a man on his knees.

You’ll be battered and beaten,
You’ll be used and abused.
I’ll die alone in my bed,
That I purchased for two.

I’m an emotional man
Who has a logical hurt.
Your remorseless behavior
Unearthed most of my dirt.

Oha! You ask how I’m doing
When you know I’m kotu.
Ben salak ama akilli *
With only a weakness for you.

Your drawings still taunt me,
I hear your voice in the ink.
But I talk to my pen
‘Cuz he swears he’s my shrink.

I lost touch with my senses,
You are truly a demon.
Or maybe you’re God,
And I’m merely a heathen.

* Turkish phrases:
Oha = common exclamatory word, similar to “oh my god”
kotu = bad
Ben salak ama akilli = I’m stupid, but smart.

Written for my EN 108 Creative Writing class

Burned by the Light

Thomas Feliciano — Sat, 29 Jan 2011 00:24:55 +0000

I’m sure many writers can attest to having a less than satisfactory life. I’m not saying that my particular case is better or worse than any one person, but there is something quite unique found throughout my life: irony. Perhaps it is simply an artistic mind making observations and connecting dots that a more level individual would let slide, but either way, irony has consumed me from a very early age.

I could get into specific examples, but that would include dragging women through the mud, incriminating myself, or retracing past moments of despair. You’re gonna have to take my word for it, although there’s no certainty that you have the correct image in your mind. Perhaps, instead of recounting a traumatic experience, I could use a metaphor to bring the concept home.

Do you know the moth? The one who keeps pestering the light-bulbs in your home. The one who flaps its wings feverishly to make it to the promised land. That moth wants nothing more than to get near the radiant beams of heat. No matter how many times you move the lamp, or attempt to remove the moth from the equation, it will not be satisfied until it makes communication with the glowing white embers. We all know what happens next. The moth is consumed, a victim of its only desire.

Written for EN 108 Creative Writing as a free-writing assignment.

First Impressions

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 00:18:17 +0000

I’ve yet to dream of common roads
I travel through the storm
I hope to one day bring a change
With peace, a stable norm

I find my head within the smoke
A shadow to the clouds
While sometimes I chase irony
My tone is always loud

There’s so much I’d like to know
I test the Renaissance
It will pay off, I do work hard
Success consumes her taunt

Expression is my largest pleasure
I’m driven to produce
Far too much I have to say
And demons to let loose

Written for EN 108 Creative Writing as an Introductory Poem.

Share a Pardon

Thomas Feliciano — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 18:55:39 +0000

I feel an urge to break away
From freedom
And from worn-today

I’ve yet to taste the call of life
A dreamer
Lost before the sights

I don’t know why I play this game
I’m losing
What becomes of brains

I wish I could just close my eyes
Leave this world
And taste your lies

Condemning Prophecy

Thomas Feliciano — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 23:52:15 +0000

I hear your voice
In every whisper
I see your face
In every star

I wish I could
Just disappear
My dreams can take
me Very far

But rest does not
Believe in solace
At night I’m beaten
By your face

My thoughts keep running
Past your shadow
My tongue so desperate
For your taste