the songs of frontwards
 

we measure the hours of sleep by how many miles we travel in our dreams.
we live in the imaginary heat of a pennsylvanian summer.
i don't know if the glass is half empty or half full.
i just know i'm thirsty and i'm tired of warm beer.
beads of sweat hang low like pearls.
our quiet mouths fill the air with ghosts created out of smoke.
and secrets made of sharpened rain.
there's an old heart breaking on the fourth floor.
isn't there anyone who'll call the bartender?
i share the sentiment down below, drink in hand.

"And secrets made of sharpened rain"...that image sticks in my mind, frontwards.

I like the poetic imagery in your poem, and the pensive, sad feeling it gives me. I think it is about unfulfilled life dreams and the pain and discontent of not having them come true. I like the way the poem contrasts the immediate experience of a moment (such as the drink in hand, the feeling of people talking quiety in a bar in summer) with the broader feelings a person has about life.

Does "i share the sentiment down below, drink in hand," mean the speaker feels like the person on the 4th floor whose heart is breaking, or is the speaker wondering, like others, if someone will call the bartender?

its meant to sound as if the sentiment of heartbreak is shared, and of loss of time. at least in my head. it can be interpreted however the reader interprets it, that's what i find so intriguing about poetry.

Slow hot slow heat.
 

Lets delve deep into the poitics of a bedroom blanket. Kennel District has been playing in my head all night. And i'm pretty sure you've been synchronizing our watches for hours. You make me feel like a warm southern prayer caught in the middle of a strong gravitational pull. i'm just a northern man with quiet hands. but if i go blind i hope it'll be from the power of your scorching light.

Little teeth.
 

And i search for you in the the different versions of my night life. A cigarette lighting my way into the city. The dusty hues of a windsheild sunset shake my hand with all the weight of a consolation prize i never wanted. I never even knew i was losing. This is my rebirth. The valentine you never sent to the house i never lived in. The eyes that caught mine right before they fell. And somehow the only home you know now is the picture frame that never collects dust. I used to wonder why every halloween you'd throw glassy eyed smiles at every unlit porch. Probably the same reason why the crecscent scars from your little teeth match the bitemarks on your steering wheel. I've been looking for you at the bottom of every bottle. You've been hiding too well.

If you are going to be posting a lot of songs, please use just one thread to collect all of it in. Making a thread dedicated to each song makes a big clutter. I'll merge them for you.

You're the crack in the sidewalk that i step on every time. I'm just a quiet version of the midwest, in all its heartbreaking mediocrity. You're a simple tale that i've come to memorize. Every page i turn is a contradiction of the last. Ice stumbles slowly through a drink i bought in our bar. A scar shivers on my arm. The one from when i crashed through your mother's bedroom window. She looked at me the same way you'd be looking at me now. That dress you wore in high school, i still remember how my hands felt, slipping in and out of a lukewarm dream. The priceless moments no one wants to keep, like the heirlooms of disgraced angels. I'm just a man with sentimental hands. I show promise in the dept of ways to show up late, or forgetting how to breathe, classroom 54. The exit sign is held over my head like a taunt. There's no fixing what was never even broken.

I know I just kind of sprung a thread merge on you, so if you don't like the title I gave this thing let me know and I'll change it.

Short but filled by emotions. You can still develop the theme to get a longer song/poem. It's up to you.

A bit to drink.
 

Do the blind leave the porch light on for their stumbling lovers? Does the world ever stop turning for a single moment of a teenage sunset? Claws nervously ripping into dreams clearly marked with an expiration date. Questions wilt into boring answers. Its just another beer to swallow one last fear. Your mouth looks like a steeple. A nest of red and white. The desperate elegy of an adolescent zipper. Everyone i can remeber is probably trying to forget. I apologize even though i can see reluctance in those traitor eyes. Suburban bliss, hit or miss. We grew up too fast and the drugs just won't last. My eyebrows arch into quiet pleas of toast on the breakfast table. And a beloved, broken bottle between my legs.