Black Ice

looks nice
fun to hold
getting more than i want
now i'm undone
gone
fun doesn't feel so good

black ice
so cold
it burns right to the bone
should've known
alone
you'd be so cold

this is no game
but we play
any way
can't kill the pain
when it's all that i can
taste

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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What Comes For Everyone?

for better and or worse
this is what you get
could be karma or a curse
there's a cause for the effect
it could always still get worse
because it's not over yet

running and
running and running
you down
is there a way to
get away, a way you
can get out?

why do you run?
it comes for everyone

when it's bad, it's too much
and it's all that you can take
when it's good, it's not enough

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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No Fun/push It

my body's broken
and my hands are tied
filled with frustration
struggles with my mind

but there's nothing
i could do to make it right
no fun, so i push it
there is no way to try
either i do or i don't
no matter how much i want

countless possibilities
i could fall flat on my face
knock out all of my teeth
eliminate the delays
between cause and effect
until i'm nothing but a
sudden bloody wreck

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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Skin Of My Teeth

closing in on the end
of one more sunday
thinking that tomorrow
i still won't recall
what i did last monday
last week
that i'm promising myself
that i'm still looking
for looking and hunting
those who are hungry
but struggle through sleep
and dreams get between
commerce and creativity
so i decide to keep the hunt on
out-foxed and still weak
too tired to apply
and can't find that just right
blink hard away
my blurred sight
dry mouth and a jaw aching

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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To The Tree

when i'm done
with this ash and dust
wrap me in the quilt
my mother and my father's mother
sewed together
put my body in a simple
pine box if a box you must
this should be enough
to keep the carnivores
from clawing at the earth
but there in the ground
which covers my body
plant a young oak tree
so that when i'm done and done
more dust than bone
what's left will nourish
the tree as it grows
and when you visit
year after year to the tree
think of your child and your brother

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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Open 24

you know you want a taste
got that candy that you crave

sometimes there's no rhyme
and you don't need a reason
that fruit might not be ripe
but our candy's always in season

twenty four
candy store
sweet or sour
still want more

got it all over your hands and all over your face
hold it in your mouth and let it melt away

you can always come back for more
'cuz were open twenty-four

sticky sugar daddies can be oh so sweet

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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The Piper And The Prey

this is how friday ended
a little bit hard to believe
my perception slightly bending
as the piper came on the scene
it was something so hypnotic
the music even changed
the crowd got up and got chaotic
and they paid so they could play

the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs to make them crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs down in their blood
songs that take, steal the love
until the song has had enough

at first, the dance was hesitant
not long before everyone knew it

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poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
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