Dedicated Personal Shane The Poet

In Another Space

She dreams of stars and asteroids,
wonders how many of them exist
what if there is life somewhere else?
else wise, we only know of ourselves

is there any more like ours?
out in the infinite,
there must be something;
that is the only thing she thinks about

there; a single star opens her eyes
must it be the brightest?
be it for rockets or for kites,
another dreamer is looking at the sky

billion light years, could we ever get there?
worlds like ours must be trying to find us
And rockets get stuck in our atmosphere
though we have found ways to escape

she thinks of places that no one has seen;
sees the clouds and says the sun is out
the clouds are never in her way
stars, she says, are someone else’s star

she believes in worlds I’ve never been,
wants the closest heavens;
her name they’ll never forget,
own the stars, she says tonight

rocket ships fly through time and space,
so come with me and leave this place;
some people don’t ever wonder;
day ends with night, when the sky is out

she asks if planets are close like the moon;
might she ever get to see the stars;
get a closer look at someone’s world
a million more might exist

chance to see what else exists;
to feel in love with another galaxy,
touch another star
the clouds will have to thicken;
moon light always shine through

Personal Poetry Shane The Poet

In Your Absence

In your absence,
I’ve finally become fond of myself again

In Your Absence

A place in the heart,
May forever be
A place where our love was
All of the nights gone by won’t be the forgotten ones

Cold lies to the truth
A forgotten face,
Forgot how to live in this broken place

Halls trace my bitterness,
Sleep still haunts me

I’ve become the lion in the cage,
As I’m surrounded,
Forgot how to leave this broken place

In your absence,
I’ve grown apart from myself
I don’t even blame you anymore

In your absence I’ve found the silence deafening
How could she ever know?
That I was the reason that you had to go

I’m not locking you up
But I’m locking down

I fall in love with every stranger I see now
Thinking that they will always be the ones to hurt me
Hoping that the ones I know will never be the ones to go

A place in the world,
I’ve buried my fears of living through self control
Holes of our halves

And I think I’m the crazy one

In your absence,
I’ve finally become fond of myself again
In this void,
I’ve finally found myself again
Living in the fear of never seeing you again

And how somehow that would hurt less

But in your absence
I’ve grown fonder,
I’ve gone longer,
Become a better man
And a better father
I gave myself another chance
Standing strong at a taller stance
Forgiven myself and forgiven others

In your absence I’ve become lost again
But I found my way up,
And I let go of the pictures of you
I’ve let go of the the things that we had

For me it wasn’t easy
Because of you, I’ve become me

Personal Poetry Shane The Poet

Back to You

Chosen away from the fears I had from falling in love again,
Walking away and turning the tides waiting for the moon to lose its ever present pull,
I was a fool for you,
Made broken bets on bitter chips,
Gambling on wages that never quite existed
I couldn’t afford to lose, I couldn’t afford to lose you

The most honest thing I ever said to you was that my cataclysm was spawned by your lack of emotion,
Lack in motion kept us from going anywhere
I watch a million people pass us by,
Happy and content with where their path may lead
They say broken hearts won’t ever make the same noise
That broken is defects proving character
So, book my love for the movies

Chalk outlines walk this city,
And by definition, you have nothing left to define
For you’ve shown them the light by breaking the word
However broken that may be
Yesterday means nothing to a guy like me

Everybody wants a hero, but nobody wants to be saved
Maybe that is just because fear lives in the heart,
Pain lives in the lungs,
Love lives in the hands,
I’m chasing what is on my mind,
Thoughts that want to bring me back to you

General Personal Poetry Shane The Poet

Heart Soaked in Gasoline

If the fumes weren’t enough,
The blood vessels explode
Like iron meets the pavement
This inner machine was made to corrode

Ignite a spark,
It wants to burn
But this city was built with matches
And the phosphorus air was not made for breathing

It pumps like the waves that took you under,
An organ made for the churches use
Lying to my face
Made corners for visiting the churches pews

If the gasoline wasn’t enough to almost kill me
The energy you gave off would
Like salt hits the wound
This inner design wasn’t configured to understand

Ignite a spark,
It wants to show that it changes because you matter
But this heart wasn’t ready for the taking of challenges
And the philosophy here was not made for understanding

It pumps like the stream that you watched
A million fish can be underneath
Lying on the floor of this pontoon
Made corners for sinking ships

If the vessel we ship in isn’t stored
Then the gasoline soaked in this shit
Like fist meets wall
This inner machine was made to explode

Dedicated Personal Poetry Shane The Poet

In Having Faith in Fate

Should I shadow you in her footsteps,
Follow her shadows in your path
Had I lost the chance to say goodnight,
To you tonight my love would never lose you

In having faith that some day I would breathe again,
To see you looking through my eyes
I could feel the air going through me once again
I never once believed in these smaller things

Should I wade in the ocean, with sharks swimming at my feet?
Knowing deep down, my heart is deep down way underneath?
Had I lost my way, I may never have found this beautiful place,
To you tonight, my heart once led me down this road

In having faith in fate,
I knew that with God one day
I could see you,
And you not see me in my worst of way

Should you sit by her doorknob,
Follow her hand as it changes everything in this room,
Had she held her head up, and her eyes caught mine
To heaven and back I’d go, just to pass you by, my moon

In having faith in fate,
To become a man I knew I would see
As my father once believed
This is the gravity, this is the real me

Personal Shane The Poet

Somewhere Behind Beaten Windows

The hand crosses a face,
Moves the blood through the cells
Letting go of ghosts
Freedom from all attacks

It was said we would dance,
Never guessed it would be like this
While your handouts are free
You are one who will never be

A moment past a second,
A second past this moment
This time I won’t forget to make memories
This second time around

Given the expenses of breathing your air
It’s becoming too rich to handle us
Somewhere behind beaten windows
Screams just let me out

They move unsafely against the other
Thin metal sheets keep crossing these lines
While the needle keeps spinning these lies
Lines keep disappearing around his straw

Summon your devils
Beats the hell out of me
Letting go of my soul
Just to be free with you

Personal Poetry Shane The Poet

Maybe I’ll Come Home, Expecting Love, Lovingly Expected

Walks the thin trapeze wire,
Bombs on either side
Expecting love,
We have run out of gas on this ride

Slowly we open our bleeding eyes,
There’s no returning
To come home, we realize
Is only going into hiding

It’s you, the long held wind caught me to see
Should I become able to breathe
It’s you, the long held words, you once said to me
Like all things, I found my hearts thief

Walks along the dust, unclear of exact location
Walls on either side
Lovingly expecting
Maybe I’ll come home, but for now I’m out of gas

Personal Shane The Poet

A Night at the Examining Board

I had this insane dream last night, and I loved it so much I thought I should share it with everyone. It starts out at home, going through old things and finding a tape that says “brothers” on it. So I put it in and it is Jason and I at some doctors office. Everything is inaudible. You see us playing a game together for a while but then he goes in for is appointment. Shortly after something strange goes wrong with my eyes, because my they turn red. Next thing I know I’m in the doctors office. In my dream, I can’t remember anything that happened after I went in so I called my brother and asked what office it was at. He told me all about it and also said that at that time, they had found out that there was something physically wrong with me. So I go to this office and tell them I had been curious about seeing my records. They informed me that even I wasn’t allowed to see them, but since I was there that I would be capable of talking to a doctor. So I said sure. So a little bit of time goes by and I am looking around this lobby, and it has changed only with updated looks and I’m trying to force my memory to tell me what happened, but nothing would click. Then I hear my name get called, and it is this absolutely gorgeous woman and she brings me into this “Examination Room 2” and there is 3 other doctors getting stuff ready. She then lays me down and grabs these needles that are shaped like a claw. She says “don’t worry you won’t feel anything” and in the back of my mind I’m going crazy, like what the fuck is going on. Next thing I know she is starting at my temple, making minor incisions. And I stop feeling pain as she goes around my face, as another doctor starts putting these small plastic slivers between each of my teeth. And another doctor is giving me massages everywhere from my arms to my back to my legs to my feet as this lady is still going around making minor incisions. Almost like acupuncture but much creepier. The last doctor starts stitching up each and every spot that there has been a cut. And the insane thing was that in this all, I only felt swollen. As if they had numbed me up everywhere but without using a numbing agent. For the most part, I wasn’t even watching. I was damn near sleeping. And it felt like a stream of water went over me as they all stopped. No more incisions, the doctor that had been doing that was still rotating me for the other doctors, and as the doctor who had inserted the plastic slivers between all of my teeth had been done, he started them out. You could see blood stored in some form of reservoir in each of them. The doctor who had been putting the stitches in started taking them out as well, all the while there was a specific pattern of massaging going on from the last doctor. As it all stopped, I saw everything again. And I looked first at the table I had been laying on. This process was so exact, that the table itself had markings on it for where the blood from my temple would and did land, including a pattern of how it should fit within these borders, and markings for everything else. It showed where saliva would land with and without blood based upon the timing. When it was all said and done, they gave me a sheet that was an analysis of anything that they thought I needed to do for my body. And I still somehow had the courage still to ask the doctor out.

Personal Shane The Poet

Change How Love Over Emphasises

Little girl you are so beautiful
I know I’m the luckiest man