Sunday, April 29, 2012

when the party ends

you went to a rooftop party, last night, to get your mind out of your slump
but you only found yourself looking for a good spot to jump
it's all over anyway, you thought with watery eyes
people think you're wise but little do they know that you're hiding in disguise
on the train ride home you contemplated his energy fueled lovin'
and now that he's gone the only thing you can do is keep on trucking
it's daylight now, as you return to your loft
birds whisper chimes to each other, the sounds are so soft
but your mattress is hard, your empty walls are hard, your heart : a rock
when he came he swooped down and bit out your insides, just like a hawk
you really start to learn how backwards the world is when you reveal your true love to be a faker 
you stand, exiled in the shadowy void, existing only with hatred
why do things gotta be this way? : you think
you were left there to cry, left there to die, left there to sink.
nothing but you and all your battle wounds
no desire or direction for anywhere light, some nights you just follow the moon.
he's somewhere out in america, somewhere warm
he's livin' in a pace as fast as the particles swimming blindly around in a dust storm.
yet your still living the norm, because that's the way he left you
you sit in his chair, stranded, hoping just anybody would accept you
you crack open another budweiser, you have no place to be
wearily singing "hey mr. tambourine man, play a song for me"
but such a tune won't even help
not even a tambourine man can save you from yourself
you sleep off most of the days to avoid despair
but the winter has gone, it's spring time and all that surrounds you is the love in the air
it's like 1,001 tiny knifes all trying to claim your life
you pray to a god you don't even know, just to get through the night.

Thursday, January 12, 2012


how are ya gonna catch the damn airplane

if ya can't see? you left yer glasses on my window

cill let's just hope those cute lil raccoons don't git

t them before you do, or even worse, at the same time

you do, they're known to go wild on thursdays and

they could make you uglier than you already are

not that it's a bad thing. you can always git a face

job. i'll get old uncle bilbo t set you up with his

surgeon. says it costs two chickens and some

sweet talkin. don't worry, you have a lot goin for ya.

clearly yours,

mama helmet

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Here at Sunset

you always want the one you don't have.
and the one that you do have is always there.
and the one you don't disappears as fast
as the long island railroad going past
and you wanna believe that everything
happens for a reason, like the myth of
demeter and her daughter with the seasons
but you just can't seem to get things right
no matter how hard you try, sometimes you
wonder if you'll even survive. and your friends
start to change but then you think to yourself " maybe it's me"
your falling far away from them like the leaves from the trees
in autumn. and the last time you saw them they
were hounding you bout your new style or new love
and sometimes you look to the sky up above and
hope you're a reincarnation of someone who was
so fantastic. but when you look down, you spit
on the ground cause you know that the world is plastic.
and at one time it wasn't and you're nostalgic of those
times even though you weren't born yet and to you
they only exist in ancient genius' rhymes.
like how you feel old poets are your only friends sometimes
and all you wanna do is cry but your tears don't form
you must have ran out of them during your last soul shattering storm
and then in comes someone who convinces you he's warm
but he's just the same, as him, as you as them
you learned to tell peoples motives by looking into
their dilated pupils. and it's always loop-holes and mouthfuls of
manipulated morons trying to kill the high your on.
and everyone starts turning into the big bad wolf, you're so sick
and you wish you listened to your mama when she told you
to build that house made of bricks, but now his breath flown you
and your drifting in the mix. and you fall and land on your head
and your clothes are shred. and you see a little cute froggy
but turns out your misled and then he steals the only thing you have left.
and you can't scream theft! cause you're so deep in those woods
and you'd do anything you could for things to change
because you're so fed up and deranged
with always being the saddest girl
and sometimes you wanna say "i hate the world"
but what you don't realize yet that these times, these places,
and faces, hover over every single page you write
and sometimes they kill you like an alligator bite
but you should takes these ideas and tie em to a kite
and let the clouds carry them so you're soul and the sky can reunite
you're words will marry the atmosphere, like when the day marries the night
when the sky turns orange.
- Marilyn Metzger
January 4th 2012

Sunday, December 25, 2011

the times they are a-changin

"When she said
“Don’t waste your words, they’re just lies”
I cried she was deaf
And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes
Then said, “What else you got left?”
It was then that I got up to leave
But she said, “Don’t forget
Everybody must give something back
For something they get”

I stood there and hummed
I tapped on her drum and asked her how come
And she buttoned her boot
And straightened her suit
Then she said, “Don’t get cute”
So I forced my hands in my pockets
And felt with my thumbs
And gallantly handed her
My very last piece of gum "

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

On Escaping the Long Green Dark Tunnel


She says I should be happy, for the misery has come to an end

she says to me that life just began

all he gave me was a mouthful of splinters

and wet eyeballs filled with fear

years and years and years

I wasted wallowing in the watery winter

I always chased the future and worried what was to come

I invested so much in him and in return got nothing' but a lump sum

he never cared or noticed that i was trapped in darkness

instead of lifting me out of it he turned his other cheek and went onward

he cheated, he lied, he stole my mind

wish i could kill him, expose him, hit rewind

i'm forever damaged and always ready for more

walls start to build thick around my once innocent inner core

my friend, she says she hates him

when she runs into him at bars she won't even straight face him

he doesn't understand what it was he did

he tells me we're meant to be because we fell in love when we were kids

i look the other way , i must stay strong

i accompany myself with my best friend, my bong

as i exhale my soul dances up high

but when i inhale it back it sinks and it dies

she says i will make it through this, it just takes time

she buys me shot of jose cuervo and lime

let this numb your pain for a while, flower child

let it all go , throw your sadness and burn it with the rest of the pile

she tells me to run far away and accept no apologies

i decided to get lost in hippie music anthologies

and though my body remained in the same old room

my mind sparked and sprinted from all the doom


I will never return to the unilluminated world I once resided in.

For this light, so gigantic, has shaken my soul

and it feels as though, it's frolicking inside of me,

dancing with the wind my body feels from the outside.

I am one with the universe now.

Excitement turns into peace as

I calmly stroke the barks of the trees

their branches begin to sway

to the movement of the open air,

which opens my heart.

Dragon flies, the size of crows smile

at me as they pass…

at last..

the starless tunnel, that was consuming me

shot me back up into the colorful world!

I am here. Now.

And that's all that will ever matter to me.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

a letter to a love of mine

hand and hand, we walk down 14th street

and I look at you and wonder why are you so

badly withdrawn. look at you here --

no emotion to anything, not even the

softest touch of the summer breeze

or seeing a bum old bird lady cry

could make you feel any sympathy -

there you go, manufacturing those

dark iron walls that protect you from

sorrow. but what you will find is that to

not feel is sorrow as well, for you dwell

in the same dark cave most of the time

nothing to search for, nothing you will find --

you wish you had some type of praise to give

or that there really was some higher power

who controls all of us, who makes sure we all

go to heaven. but you know you don't.

damaged - because you chose too soon

and blinded by what the human experience

is supposed to be. trees behind you, blow

wind into your ears, and sometimes i can see

that your brain feels connected to mother

nature but never other humans.

you tried once or twice, but it all crashed

and you expect everyone to be normal

but in realty the concept can't exist

because everyone isn't normal so

to not be normal is normal and

everybody is.

aimlessly you walk, and wonder if

everyone is just hiding behind their

skin. you stop to look into their eyes

but the depth is thin, you can't tell --

you don't have the sixth sense

to read minds or understand

the meaning of life through

someone else's perspective.

you get shy when they look back…

at times you feel you'r stuck in a whirlwind

of what everyone who allegedly cares

for you wants you to become…

and at this point you'd rather be a bum

because the anxiety you get from

feeling a need to impress them

makes you feel even more empty

and more lost with who you are.

you can't even tell yourself what you want

because the answer would simply be

nothing, or something materialistic

that would band aid your sadness for a day

and in a lot of ways a quick fix used to be

all you needed --

not anymore, woe is you

for you want insight and love and peace

and all those other nearly unattainable

things that only the people in the movies or

the buddhas and shamans find. you're surrounded

by a shallow ocean that drains your

creativity and your very own peace of mind.

hopeless, but pretty, so you'll dream

just one more time and if it doesn't

work you'll pray to a different god and

hope for better results. … ..

maybe aphrodite could return your heart

and perhaps satan could

sell you back your soul --

maybe this coldness

will slowly melt into what would

become something warm again--

and a lover or friend will

come back and you can live in

a place where turquoise petals

fall from trees which you could catch and use

to wipe away your clear tears.

perhaps there's a

letter you could send, or a bargain

you can make to gain back your strength.

or at least get back your heart,

even if it's black and blue and in pieces.

i really hope one day you'll find

whatever it is you want, and just know

that you'll always be my true love

you'll be able to feel the sun shine one day,

if you could let it.

but i can't stay to help, i've gone west

i've tried my best, but it just isn't me you need.

-marilyn metzger

long island, 2011