Wednesday, September 30, 2015

The Races

You are the hero and the killer 
Puffy red lips dream of kissing you 
    Good night 

No sign of you 

I tell myself in neon intentions nothing's left , as you sink my ship , nuclear she says , something you only see in those books you find in vintage thrift stores - 

And the gentleman come and go as fast as they say hello , they've got no chances 

She watches the horizon and she knows he's not coming back - 

Tell me , what to do with a love like that ? 
The quiet is noise these days , I'm so lost 
I here the music but it's not the same 

You see - it's not the same 

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Poetry and love

Poetry is a secret story between you and the paper . No one quite knows her secrets except the pen and the the air that dries her fragments and her lover that hears the lost good byes written for him tonight . 

I say poetry is best written as a lost letter written for her lover to find . But most poetry remains lost . That's why the best poetry is written late at night and the poet is alone . 

No poet will tell you what their poetry means . It's for you to decipher the hieroglyphics of words written for secret soul mates that lay a hundred miles away 
Under all these pages and pages and maybe just maybe you can take these words and cut and paste them into your world like music and sing along with us . 

I write mostly about a love I met a few years ago and said good bye too - 

He is my twin flame my 1111 . I think I write best when I'm loving or falling apart and he has me doing both . And that's just fine I write my best this way . 

I urge you to follow along on my journey and find yours as well 

- war commander 

Saturday, September 5, 2015


If I could I would write the perfect letter 
To bring you home , 
I would tell you about how I drive home at night I think of you and stare at the moon , wondering if you watch it too . 

I would tell you how I lay in bed dreaming of holding you just one more time 
Wondering if you ever dream it too - 

I also wish I could just once hand stitch every song that reminds me of you , but it would be to many lines and to many words , you see - 

And if I could one last time I would tell you about how confused I was about your note , because good byes never come bye one way conversations between a lock and a key - 

So tell me because I know .... I'm not crazy , and I've been a little around the block , and a girl like me doesn't give love so easy - 
So tell me - when I'm a hundred million light years away do you feel me - ? 

When I tell you I miss you when I'm alone in my bed ? Do you hear me on my drive home at night tell you I love you when I search the moon ? 

And as much as I move on my heart stays back some where with you . 

Maybe you will never read this letter addressed to you . But maybe you will hear me talking to you on my drives home .