Damn My Foolish Eyes… Something Different…

All the Same

A corpse on life support
Wasted and on last resort
Feeding time is here to stay
Feed the soul, stay away
Man versus Machine
All the same
We gave away our souls
First time we were paid
Existence, existing time and place
Fearful means all the same
Explain to me what to say
My words always get in the way
How I feel
What you mean
Doesn’t mean anything in the scheme of things
When they are all the same
Lesson learned one glass at a time
Driven into the ground

Personification of a Dying Art

Tearing at the fabric of my very being
Only have something to say as I fall asleep
Convenient
If there was such a thing as sin
I think that I would live it
Only if it was clearly stated by design
Inflicted
Too many demons locked away in my skeleton
A puppet meant to say something
Strings too tight, cut me free
Convoluted
If there is such a thing as less complicated
I haven’t found it
If only it was clearly defined by existence
Incorporated
Licensed to fuck this up by design
Unqualified but what really are the qualifications
To set the world on fire
No one asked me to save them
So I heed the call and do all that I can
They wanted a martyr but all they got was me

Found some more old poetry that didn’t fit in to my recent collection… still working on everything… always trying to work on something… hope all is well…

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Everything Is Upside Down… Broken Thoughts…

Taking this out to sea
Oceans may lay between
The dead and the living
But we brush up against
Skeletons dressed in skin
Walking the plank
Everything lays below the surface
The life we want and the one we live
Ripple effect amongst the waves
Dwell on it all the same
Rotting flesh dripping off new skin
Shed who I am, who I was
Skin falling as the time goes on
Am I who I am or an evolution of the thought
Gave everything for a chance to know
Diving into the ocean floor below

Getting over these childish things… was never on the table…

Stripping back everything
Peeling the skin piece for piece
You’ll always get what you get
A look beyond the normal
A vision of what it means to live
Thoughts invisible to the eye
The blood pumps on through it all
Loneliness filling up the cracks of a broken heart
A point was made but now it is gone
It all sounded the same isolated and afraid
Room full of me and yous
Lost the train of thought
Stuck in between what I remember
What I forgot

Upset because you are wrong… or because I pointed it out?…

With broken feet and worn down shoes
Marching onto a death
Moving on with a sense of regret
Changing lanes, stuck in place
Bleed me dry and tell me what it means
Take everything from me and tell me what I deserve
Sheltered in place but paying attention all the same
With broken feet and defeated dreams
Marching on was all there was for me
Moving on from this sense of regret
That was forced into me by uncertain circumstances
Bleed me dry but know you will never get all of me
The evidence, the trail left behind us all

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

Hopefully by now everything is back to normal… but then again hopefully not… because as it turns out… as it all unfolds… normal wasn’t all that normal to begin with… I hope everything is better… learned a lesson that was hard to swallow… look back to the history… and improved… but even then… history tells me we didn’t learn a thing from any of this… only how to take a bad situation… and exploit it further… harder… faster… stronger… until it is all used up… unsure if we know of any other way…

For those of you who don’t know… I’m the optimistic one in my home… the one spewing positivity… hope… on any situation that comes our way… as we all drag the lake together… know that I am in the one in the back… convincing you everything is okay… so let that sink in for a moment… unlike most people I like to be wrong… I want to be wrong… because when I am good things come about… someone has to be… and what better person then me?… this life is a mind game… where too much thought… and not enough will be your… our down fall…

We forget the rules… because there are no rules… we write them… rewrite them… and time goes on… time… life… existence… is not bound by any sense of order… it is dripping in chaos… life… like the world… spins in circles… is kept in balance by the battle between order and chaos… each play an equal role… each has there place… we don’t need to live in chaos… and we can’t be dictated by order… complex… each one of us… each part of this… is more complex then we’d like to admit… there is no answer… because there are no answers…

Hopelessly we must find the order in chaos… and the chaos in the order… nothing was ever meant to be perfect… nothing ever will be… but balanced?… who decides that?… who determines what that means?… who in this world defines the balance?… we can play weak… we can pretend we don’t have a say… but we’ve known the answer for way too long… none of us are here purely by chance… as chaotic as life is… there is an order to why we are still here… a balance to our very existence… now is the time to decide… determine… define… what that means…

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Huffing Glass 101… Something Different…

I’m not qualified to teach anyone anything… to be fair though this isn’t really me teaching anything… honestly this just seemed like a fun idea… I have done it in the past… kind of… so I thought I would give it a try again in a more formal setting… this won’t become a set thing… because again I am not qualified at all… but I thought it could be fun to learn a little bit about the process… Welcome to Huffing Glass 101… today’s lesson will be about Broken Thoughts… where they come from… how it works… and why it doesn’t… lets talk about writing…

Huffing Glass 101

The first part of the process is pretty basic… write some shit down… have some thoughts kicking around in your head… nothing special about this first part… for me though… a thought can be either a poem… a story… or in this case a Broken Thought…

Broken Thoughts was born out of necessity… based on time and place… I tend to have a lot of thoughts kicking in my head during work… right before… on the drive too and from… sitting around… I’m a thinker… I can’t shut the shit off… even when I want too or need too… nothing special about that either… often I find myself with only a few minutes here or there to write something down…

Before I started using my cellphone to capture these moments… I was all about pen and paper… I had a lot less poems in my bag of tricks then… because well… looking for a pen or a piece of paper when you are stocking shelves is rather difficult… also your pockets can only hold so much cardboard before you start to make everything real awkward… people ask a lot of questions when you have pockets full of cardboard and zero intentions of throwing them away… Switching to using my phone has really saved me a lot of time… effort… and overall comfort in my pants… that sounds weird…

But what to do with these tiny moments… sentences that fly by so quick that I barely have enough time to remember where or how they came to me… you could save them… gather them together… and do something with them later… if you are like me though… my writing is a time and place type of process… I often can’t expand on something if the moment has passed… it is no longer raw… and I don’t look at it the same… so my process is an all or nothing approach to writing… it leaves me with a lot of thoughts all broken up… pages upon pages…

Which leads us to how it works for me… I started this website three years ago… I started off with poems… stories… you probably already know this… well I ran out pretty quick… had a lot of cardboard laying around though… not all of it good… great… or in some case anything I am willing to share… Broken Thoughts was born out of again… necessity… after a while I found that I enjoyed it more than just doing poems… or writing out a story… there is something to the basics of it…

I don’t want to compare my Broken Thoughts to a haiku… because they are not anywhere close to the art of such things… but they are very similar in theory and idea… I don’t have any actual rules to my Broken Thoughts… I don’t have any set out intentions of writing any either… I try to just get the thought out… each and everyone of them so I don’t forget…

Sometimes a Broken Thought becomes a poem… or even a story… sometimes it just is what it is… I try not to shy away from anything… because we never know what it will become… losing track here… so I gather them all together… separate them by months… and then move on…

That’s where the website comes in… I print out my Broken Thoughts… come up with a title for the heading… and then I start the dig… as I stated before… I can’t seem to remember or grasp the same head space as before… so the website helps me rewrite them because as I do… I think of new lines… fix old ones… basically I edit until I actually have something… this sometimes changes the point… outcome… or thought all together… here is an example…

Original Thought

Destroying everything was never difficult
Cutting out pieces of me
Every goddamn day
How much of me is even left
Repetition is the key
Replaying these thoughts in my head
Scream them enough and they
Will become true
Enjoy the logic but the theory
Is too goddamn much
Dragging my soul through each day
Swinging at an invisible enemy
Drowning myself with nothing to gain

(Perfectly fine Broken Thought…)

Rewritten Broken Thought

Destroying everything was never difficult
Cutting out pieces of me
Every goddamn day
How much of me is even left
Repetition is the key
Repetition is all I need (new line)
Replaying these thoughts in my head
Scream them enough and they in silence
They will become true
Enjoy the logic but the theory
Is too goddamn much
For one soul to take (new line)
Dragging my soul self through each day
Swinging at an invisible enemy
Drowning myself with nothing to gain
Fucking hero and villain
No longer see the difference

This one ended up being longer… sometimes they are this long and then I cut them down to a whole lot less… this one could have even been a poem if I thought of more lines… but I wasn’t feeling any more lines.. it is a feeling thing for me… I think that is how I am able to separate the dark thoughts from my life… the “darkness”… depression… doesn’t last forever… it comes in waves… so I’m not always down in it…

Which leads to why it doesn’t work… I’m not always depressed… it comes and goes… so sometimes when I am editing… working with… Broken Thoughts… even I am thinking God damn… but that is where the fiction and the truth of my thoughts rub against each other… I thought it at one point… I felt it at some point… but do I feel it now?… maybe… that can be frustrating because instead of having a poem… I have four lines… that I can’t get in the head space of…

The process also doesn’t work because… I have often have a lot of the same lines floating around… the same themes… so I have days of the same concepts written out… I try to condense them to one single post… or spread them out during a cycle… some I have to save for another time… or the books… because I don’t want to dwell on the same things all damn day… nothing special there either…

That’s the process from thought… to cardboard… to the website… and every where in between… if you take anything from this… it would repetition is key… don’t throw anything away… look at it again at another day… and remember nothing worth anything doesn’t come without work… even the most simplest things… come with a lot of steps to get there… keep your head high and follow your dreams… you will get somewhere someday… just remember to enjoy the journey…

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Next month we will take a look at how I pull my head out of my own ass… just kidding it never leaves… we might do something on titles… stories… or who the hell knows…

New Stories… Never Before Seen…
New Thoughts… Not Enjoyed…
New Poems… Well to Read…
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Got Everything I Wanted… Broken Thoughts…

Waiting on you
Waiting on the world to do
What I already know it will
Waiting for the moment
Is like waiting for
Everything to fall in place
I’d give anything for
What I already know
Gave it all and in a strange
Twist of fate it was true
Digging a grave
Draining the lake
Said my peace and now
I wait for the truth to accumulate

When I get like this… Thinking only makes it worse…

If I’m going to take the time
Working on being more direct
Rather than correct
Spent too much time being erect
An error in a linchpin
Pulled at the strings and now I can’t resist
Thanking about all the beautiful things
That make me feel like shit
Another day if I must say
Dissecting everything going on inside of me

It’s one thing if I fall on the sword… It’s another if you stare me down while you push it in…

Stuck a needle in my eye
Couldn’t tell anymore if I was alive
Took what I had left in this world
Watched, let it burn
Each page a thought that wouldn’t die
Starting over and if you knew you’d know why
They say a phoenix rises from the ashes
But what started the spark?
What took the great beast down in the first place?
Time, life, stress, just time to move on
Too much concern put on the end result
And not the process of it all

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

A little more on the experimental side for me… I have been trying to do things a little different with each cycle… if we don’t evolve we die… not trying to shed all the skin of course… we may always look the same on the outside… but I’ve been searching deeper within… to understand what each shadow actually means… I’m sure by the end of all of this… there will be some pretty different… weird stuff…

Hopefully for the better of course…each thought doesn’t always chew the same… some get stuck in the back of the throat… and others go down without you even noticing… just remember… at least no one is choking on glass here… will update the title where appropriate… in the mean time… hope all is well…

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Teething Scrapping…Teething On Concrete…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

Teething On Concrete… New Poetry Collection… Available On Amazon…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

Chewing On Glass… Is That A Funeral? Collection…

Now Available…

Is That A Funeral? Store Now Open…

Find What Fits You… Help Independent Writers Spread The Word…
Two Birds… One Helping Hand…

T-shirts… Hoodies… Stickers…

Don’t See What You Want?… Let Us Know Below…

Get What You Desire Today…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter