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Poezii Romnesti - Romanian Poetry



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House of Hearts
poetry [ ]

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by [Rick Mullen ]

2004-08-03  |     | 

Surrounded by chaos I can’t hear myself talking
Society’s my headphones and reality’s my walkman
The air feels heavy this oxygen is dead weight
Dodging all these curves trying to get my head straight
Life alone, man, I’d enjoy the company
Dreams of desolation begin to comfort me
Please see what I say let my voice be your glasses
Hard to be heard in a conversation of masses
Become a pilot, Put my mind on auto pilot
Your thoughts like ultraviolet light, give stanzas life
I write to balance the constant bustle of my brain
It keeps me awake like homeless stuck in the rain
In the river of life with two paddles, no raft
Trying to stay afloat dodging planes that crash
Stuck in traffic jams or drowning in loud crowds
I dream of daydreaming, with my head in the clouds

Locked in a box stuffed full of commotion
Feel the undertow grab and drag you into the ocean
Sucked through Seas of lunatics that act lazy
Electronics and a populous that’s crazy
Voices of reason drowned out by ringing phones
Circled by neighbors , breaking hearts that are homes
Searching for something that has yet to be seen
The warmth of comfort and a life that’s serene
I’d swallow the winter just to warm your blood
Let you walk on my soul so you don’t step in mud
But your faces look empty and filled with void
Impatient and just very annoyed
I learned not to extend hands in this rigid arctic
Hands are frostbit by the frigid hearted
As sirens can be heard way off in the distance
I wander around and get lost in existence

Hammers of noise crack dreams like glass
Snapped out of silence by a piercing smash
A man builds a house of visions without cash
No light of friendship so he works in the dark
With I beams of trust building houses of hearts
Only to be demolished right after he starts
Emotions are stairs they go up or down
Secrets kept in basements deep underground
People equal storms so he insulates for rain
Keeps feelings to himself no matter the pain
Lost in his work with gratitude for solitude
This house has neither latitude or longitude
He makes escapes through his blueprints
Traveling this earth without movements
If winds picked up destined to tear you apart
He’d offer you shelter within a house of hearts

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