Danger: Words may be larger than they appear.

Tray, I once rode a tray down the side of Seattle Center's fountain. It hurt at the end, Where the floor meets the slant with no generous curve, Just an abrupt angle. Just thinking about it makes my tailbone hurt. It was still stupid amounts of fun, I do not truly regret it, Only that I should have jumped off earlier.

Tray, I once rode a tray down the side of Seattle Center's fountain. It hurt at the end, Where the floor meets the slant with no generous curve, Just an abrupt angle. Just thinking about it makes my tailbone hurt. It was still stupid amounts of fun, I do not truly regret it, Only that I should have jumped off earlier.

Dear future girlfriend, Know, that I am a little odd, I walk around with my chest open and you can read whats on my heart, My mind is a bit harder to make sense of, I still don't know how I do it most days, Know, that I will love you, Ridiculously, but not religiously, Religions make people do bad things, Not that I don't want to do bad things with you, Know, that when I get scared there isn't much sense involved, The logic switch, gets flipped, Off, I run in the real world to keep genetics from making me run from things that matter, Know, that I wear t-shirts with my favorite things on them, Smiles like they belong there, And only remove my hat for the rain, Unless asked very nicely.

Stripes, Stripes on shirts. Stripes on Couches. Stripes on your soul that are bruises from the bars. Livin' on nothing but pure color, You work and work and work, And all we give each other are half-assed smiles and half smiling asses. Find yourself some stripes, to break the black and white up a bit. - Keynan Bailey

I am a midnight shaman, Talking with the gods and putting it to page, Walking through the streets, I have words on speed dial and hope in my pocket, I forget where I put it sometimes, The night time grabs me, Tells me to slow down, Make these words spinning around make sense, To help others that are awake, Because their dreams won't let them go, Backpack full of raindance, Because sometimes losing those tears to the rain, Is what we need.

It was February 14th, 2009, You helped me move back home, Because I had to, Because I thought we had Love with a capital 'L', You unpacked half my stuff with me, I still mumble when I can't find something, "Where did that infernal woman put it!" My dick is still mad there was no sex that night, I knew then, somewhere in my toetips, That we were finally through, It took you a month to fuck me again, This time through a phone line cluttered with cliches, You use people like paper towels, Please, tattoo that somewhere, To warn the rest of the poet geeks away from your smile, We would've had kids named "Kara T." and "Jude O.", Because your last name was Chopp and we were fun like that, Fuck you, and not like I used to, Thats all I have to say, I trusted you, daughter of the emperor of washington state democrats, With my everything, You left me, For a truck-driving republican asshole, Fuck you, and not like I used to.

I once loved a girl the same way I still love the rain, Because it sounds like nature is talking to you, This girl somehow convinced me that my dreams were something I should abandon, For money, for a more realistic success, This girl got me away from the only thing I have ever been good at, words, She obviously never paid attention to me before her, or during her, Because if she had, she would know, That words are the only thing I've got, Talking to people, I do, Well, Writing, I love, whether or not I do it as fantastic as I one day will, Writing is the greatest lover, she lets you be exactly who you are, I convinced myself that this girl could be my world, But she wasn't ready for that, Never would be, So while she runs full steam at her brick wall of mediocrity, I am running back to the rain, and the words, Because they are the only things that allow me to listen to myself, I will never let another woman own me the way she did, I can still love someone

I'm at work, Blonde Haired, Blue Eyed Kid, Comes in, My age, "I'd like the five dollar footlong buffalo chicken," Already expecting something I cannot give him, "Can't do that, the owner said we can't," "Oh, he must be a jew," He chuckles to himself after it slides out of his mouth like its truth, My world shudders, Fists clench, Smile, collapses, I spent the rest of my time with him shocked, Grasping for a retort, Trying not to throttle him with my fists and some knowledge, I wish I had said something because I am still shaking, From the fear of how easy the words passed through him, I am angry I stayed quiet, But my glares at him gave him an idea of it, I should have spiked his sandwich into the ground, Should have refused to serve a racist, He took up two tables, One for him, One for his sweatshirt, I almost said "No wonder the Jews seem stingy when you take two of everything," I am mad at myself for

Which one of you motherfuckers did it? Who fed me this knowledge after midnight? Who made me write with the streetlights and the stars? When I finally can afford to move out of my moms house, Again, I am going to write on the walls of my new place, Even if I do not own it, Because the walls are the only things that feel big enough in my space, To even consider the possibility of harnessing my voice, I will write fluffy bunnies carrying candy in their scrunched up mouths on the ceiling, To wake up with a smile, I will write, Get your goddamn shine on, In the mirror, For those mornings where the world wants to tell me I am not this sexy, I will put my memories in several places, The happy ones will be in the kitchen because food and happiness add flavor to each other, The sad ones will be in the basement or the attic, Like a former lover that I can still go wallow in, The proud memories will be my toothpaste, Because I smile a lot, Writing on the walls will fee

I'm crazier than you'll ever see coming, I'm telling you so you have a chance at running, I laugh when I'm not supposed to, I feel when I don't want to, I can't turn it off and I'm not sure I would, Just understand sometimes I'll talk in riddles, I'll want to write on the walls until they bleed, But don't let me, then no one gets the deposit back, I fall too hard and I fall too fast, If we take a look back there's evidence in the past, Not to say that's how I feel about you, But, there's something about you that makes me smile, Know now, that I take my heartache with two lumps of laughter, I anticipate talking to you, and meeting you like there's no tomorrow, I have no idea of what will come of "us", But I like that we both feel comfortable already, I like that I want to talk your ears off and that I have a feeling you would do the same, Just to get in each others brains, Look around and jump down in

I am constantly thinking at the pace of lightspeed, This leads me to thought overflow, Flash floods of assumptions, I can read people But not deep enough to carry all my jumps to conclusions, I am a part-time optimist, With one eye on the negative, Years with dissapointment have taught me, That that guy is like Kramer, Always barging in, I am hilarious, Especially at the worst times, I don't know yet, But something tells me I'll laugh at my own funeral.

8.11.09 1:40 am The rain came back today, I greeted her like a lover long gone, Smiling into the sky arms wide, A lot of people don't get it, But you grow up here and its like caffiene addiction, Naked bicyclists, Or smiles from strangers, It's just something that happens, From the eastside mansions to the south end houses falling apart, Anyone who gets it smiles when they smell the rain, The pitter-patter on my window is a lullaby that will always bring me the calm to sleep, She is back and I have missed her, Rain is that love you only miss when she is gone, When she returns you breathe her in, and smile, Because she will never leave you, Play games, Shes always the same, And loves you, Just the Rain.

Fuckup, He calls me fuckup, How can he call me a fuckup? Is this another one of his ways to make himself feel better about being a fuckup? How can he call me a fuckup? Drinking himself into a rut, Smoking himself into stupidity, He didn’t even graduate from high school, I did, How can he call me a fuckup? Where the fuck does he get off tearing his own fucking son down like that? Do you remember the day you realized your father wasn’t infallible? I don’t know the day but I can tell you I was 8 years old, By the time I was 10, I was disappointed and realized he would never change, By 12 I felt more like his father, At 16 I’m so fed up with it I dump the messy coffee table at his feet in an argument Because it’s like yelling at a fire alarm, It can’t hear you, and it doesn’t care what you think, How can he call me a fuckup? He shrugs it off days later, like it was a joke, and after my mom called and told him to Never talk to me that way again, he hung up on he

Father By Keynan Bailey Father, It’s a word for most that is good, Implies caring, thoughtful, and influential people, However I hear it and I hear a joke, My father is a joke to me, The guy from Fight Club says, “Our fathers are our models for god,” Well if that’s true then god hasn’t done a damn thing since creating man, Does god get drunk nightly? Does god smoke? And I don’t mean tobacco, Does god think that feeding humanity, playing video games with humanity, and buying humanity presents is all he has to do? My father never gave me any useful advice, My father was never a role model, Drunk and stoned nightly, he rambles on about the times he does remember, That’s a total of 20 stories I’ve heard at least 20 times a year, Now don’t get me wrong he could be worse, But he’s still no goddamn father to me, It always feels like I’m the one keeping him out of trouble, I’ll never forgive him for my fifth birthday, Just because he was the news person at The End and Kur

Lightning strikes, I turn pages frantically to find you, The first blank page, I love you, I love that being here feels like escape, I write to get away from it all but the funny thing is all I write about is what I'm running from, I hate my job. I finally know what its like to be stuck, Because collectors hold their hands out for my dues on old mistakes that I have to pay for, I make sandwiches for assholes who are too lazy, too ungrateful, and too wrapped up in themselves to make their own sandwich, I provide a service with your sandwich, it's called silent obedience, I smile and fulfill your requests while you look down on me, while some of you voice your "superiority" with insults or rude tones, Fuck you, Fuck this job, and allow me to masturbate all over your sandwich to get back at you, with a smile on my face, I say "have a nice night," Which translates to "Fuck you for justifying this 3-11pm shift with your snide comments and reque

Lightning strikes, I turn pages frantically to find you, The first blank page, I love you, I love that being here feels like escape, I write to get away from it all but the funny thing is all I write about is what I'm running from, I hate my job. I finally know what its like to be stuck, Because collectors hold their hands out for my dues on old mistakes that I have to pay for, I make sandwiches for assholes who are too lazy, too ungrateful, and too wrapped up in themselves to make their own sandwich, I provide a service with your sandwich, it's called silent obedience, I smile and fulfill your requests while you look down on me, while some of you voice your "superiority" with insults or rude tones, Fuck you, Fuck this job, and allow me to masturbate all over your sandwich to get back at you, with a smile on my face, I say "have a nice night," Which translates to "Fuck you for justifying this 3-11pm shift with your snide comments and reque

Untitled 4/06/09 She was the kind of girl that took life at face value, taking high school, college and the future as everyone told her to, She was the kind of girl who grew up knowing she would get three houses when her family was gone, As if somehow those three homes could replace the smiles, love and laughter of the people that once lived in them, She was the kind of girl who taught me something I now value very much, I have never been one of those people, and thankfully never will be, I grew up in a household where the only things inherited are the ability to love and cherish each other, Keep going no matter what happens to you, and above all else do what you love no matter what the cost, These are the answers to everything I know, I am not one of those people who takes all of that shit at face value, I was raised to think for myself and to constantly ask my favorite three letter word, Why? Why should I go to college? Why should I finish high school with straight

Untitled 4/06/09 She was the kind of girl that took life at face value, taking high school, college and the future as everyone told her to, She was the kind of girl who grew up knowing she would get three houses when her family was gone, As if somehow those three homes could replace the smiles, love and laughter of the people that once lived in them, She was the kind of girl who taught me something I now value very much, I have never been one of those people, and thankfully never will be, I grew up in a household where the only things inherited are the ability to love and cherish each other, Keep going no matter what happens to you, and above all else do what you love no matter what the cost, These are the answers to everything I know, I am not one of those people who takes all of that shit at face value, I was raised to think for myself and to constantly ask my favorite three letter word, Why? Why should I go to college? Why should I finish high school with straight

High School High school is, Tough, You work hard only to come back another year for some more BS, You work SO hard, or youre like me and you dont and struggle in the end, But no matter what, its tough, grueling, even painful at times, Hard to keep up with homework, and friends, and clubs, and jobs, And its all so much you want to rip your hair out, And just when you decide its okay and you can deal with it, You have to go somewhere else, Here is the sum of high school, 4 years, or sometimes less or maybe more, but usually 4, 20,000 homework assignments, all of which seem stupid, 400 stupid dramatic social disasters that no one will care about in 5 years, 6 girlfriends or boyfriends, some cheating, some wishy-washy, And one very excellent one, who may have gotten away, 12 great teachers, and a few you didnt like but still learned from, 1 poetry class, Where you discover a voice in yourself that you kept locked away in an itty-bitty b

High School High school is, Tough, You work hard only to come back another year for some more BS, You work SO hard, or youre like me and you dont and struggle in the end, But no matter what, its tough, grueling, even painful at times, Hard to keep up with homework, and friends, and clubs, and jobs, And its all so much you want to rip your hair out, And just when you decide its okay and you can deal with it, You have to go somewhere else, Here is the sum of high school, 4 years, or sometimes less or maybe more, but usually 4, 20,000 homework assignments, all of which seem stupid, 400 stupid dramatic social disasters that no one will care about in 5 years, 6 girlfriends or boyfriends, some cheating, some wishy-washy, And one very excellent one, who may have gotten away, 12 great teachers, and a few you didnt like but still learned from, 1 poetry class, Where you discover a voice in yourself that you kept locked away in an itty-bitty b

Comics My life is a comic, Epic, possibly biblical, but not a bible comic, Shadows, Madmen, and Boy scouts made of gold dance around my mind, Gods, Heroes, Demons, and Villains make my decisions, I am a hero, Bold, Stalwart, and ever vigilant, I am my nemesis, Brutal, Maniacal, and constantly grinning, My life is a comic, Only key events, battles, and quotes are remembered, Epic battles in my head, Freedom hits capitalism, Superman hits hard and Luthor takes his hits well, Capitalism flies into a wall and breaks, Luthor's arm breaks against a steel girder, Capitalism heals, gains power, and becomes president, Freedom writhes in the arctic, Justice stays neutral in his cave, My life is a comic, Hope shattered by pain and tragedy, Only to arise stronger than it was, Emotional and scary, My life is a comic, Would you like to read?

Comics My life is a comic, Epic, possibly biblical, but not a bible comic, Shadows, Madmen, and Boy scouts made of gold dance around my mind, Gods, Heroes, Demons, and Villains make my decisions, I am a hero, Bold, Stalwart, and ever vigilant, I am my nemesis, Brutal, Maniacal, and constantly grinning, My life is a comic, Only key events, battles, and quotes are remembered, Epic battles in my head, Freedom hits capitalism, Superman hits hard and Luthor takes his hits well, Capitalism flies into a wall and breaks, Luthor's arm breaks against a steel girder, Capitalism heals, gains power, and becomes president, Freedom writhes in the arctic, Justice stays neutral in his cave, My life is a comic, Hope shattered by pain and tragedy, Only to arise stronger than it was, Emotional and scary, My life is a comic, Would you like to read?

Here I Am Here I am, Standing on a street corner with a sign around my neck, That says, Show me my respect, Youre baffled, I grin, From living with my parents what feels like forever and all of the sideways glances I get from random strangers I feel a severe lack of respect, So I stand on the corner not begging for money, but respect, Because I am just like you, I strive for independence any way I can, I stretch myself to fit others ideals of cool, only to snap back like a rubber band that wont hold anything shut, Im too small, in a world that looks through people who stand on street corners, Problem is, Im just like you, going from day to day trying to get by anyway I can, Thriving on those precious moments of bliss before my feet hit the ground and reality body slams me back into my place, Because I am just like you, I bite my fingernails, I am nervous theyll figure me out one day that I have no idea who the hell I am, That I hide it behind all these cloth

I was born with a brain that begs for me to have someone else around, Because she isn't, I was born with a brain that wants to stretch the boundaries of thought that we all live in, Because very few others do, I've learned that being different often results in exactly that and all the discomfort that comes with it, Because people don't like that, I've written a lot of poems about me, some might call it selfish, others might not, Because I call it soul-searching out loud across the walls and into my living room, I've done very few things with my life as far as I'm concerned, Because I'm young and scared to take chances, I am constantly in love, with the people around me, and not like that, at least not in most cases, Because I really appreciate people and really am wired to always have someone else around, I want my brain to arc lightning into yours and give you the ideas that I have on a daily basis, Because most of the time I can't wr