folding the sirens of
eternity in on themselves
as this scant hour
rebuilds its stage
over and
over
in the light of my eyes

already there is a perception
of being caught
in a loop - of a lesson
playing out
before a malady
of ignorance

i am free to see it
and i am free
to miss it

it is the long
breath
of the breaching
whale - an exchange
of currents for
the transformation of
sky into
ocean depths

it is
the
hidden union
in transience

recurring
in beautiful
obscurity

When there is obscurity
Darkness fills the room
Clouds with a chaotic scene
Along with sadness and gloom
One often feels despondent
They are in a state of uncertainty
Always feeling unsure
In a world of acrimony

I'll run out of money, ideas, madness, and sanity
creativity will peak for long instances
But for you,
I will always have words!
At times I won't explain, or think, or even say what I am wondering
feelings will take over thoughts to where only words will express,
unsung, overused and independent,
made up squeezed together letters of nonsensical impressions that will run-on to appear proper
Pages of self plagiarized poetry
half finished expression to ensure you know I am spilling out with the same intuitive passion as many moons before
and until I start to give you new words, a realization takes hold of my pen and will speak up,
"you've already told her this!"
But I'll give it to you all the same. And you'll read it in privacy and feel what I have felt time and again, times 10!
I assure you that I will run out of places, originality and giving.
But for you Annie Anne,
I will always have words
weathered, and gathered
grouped and scattered
Presented for your approval
Squeezed together letters

seeing through
glass as clearing waters
a droplet

The cracked window brings the light, beautiful to many, yet vile to to my sight.
                  Can I sleep?
                     don't remind me of what I must do.
                  When they weep

Leave me my silence,
leave me my grace,
leave this ***** grimy disgrace.
  We all should lie in obscurity.
Leave me this mourning
Leave me this bad taste
Leave me this sad and sorry waste
   Living world of impurities  
Cracks in the pavement
They wont break her back.
but don't break your neck.
I will make it through. 
  
    We all should lie in obscurity.
    In  a world of such impurities                        

Left in the distance.
Recognize the light.
Walk the paths of fear,
Acceptance takes flight.
Cloudy eyes may not see.
I'm not here to race,
It's another dawn ,
and the darkness breaks
In my opponents
I see great teachers,
family, monsters,
Scared men and preachers.
Lie in the shadows
Lie in the twilight
or a darkened room.
to embrace the light.
Such cunning,such sleight
Hardly believe your eyes
Phoenix taking flight
Takes us by surprise

Does anything have one side?
Truth found in a lie
Does anything have one side?
Truth found in a lie

Try to tell myself
brush of the ashes
you lived through the flames
some disfigurement
I killed love itself
with a thousand lashes
I know I'm to blame

The killing wont stop
This is just a play?
Will you make it through
Make me feel something

A knife on a strop
but it never slays
Just black and blue hues
This the love that stings

Leave me my silence,
leave me my grace,
leave this ***** grimy disgrace.
  We all should lie in obscurity.
Leave me this mourning
Leave me this bad taste
Leave me this sad and sorry waste
   Living world of impurities  
Leave me my silence,
leave me my grace,
leave this ***** grimy disgrace.
  We all should lie in obscurity.
Leave me this mourning
Leave me this bad taste
Leave me this sad and sorry waste
   Living world of impurities
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR FROM ME
I COULD SQUASH YOU LIKE A FLEA
BROKE THE SKIN MADE YOU BLEED
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR FROM ME 

The cracked pavement  stained like night, beautiful to many, yet vile to to my sight.
                  Can I sleep?
                     don't remind me of what I must do.
                  When they weep

Leave me my silence,
leave me my grace,
leave this ***** grimy disgrace.
  We all should lie in obscurity.
Leave me this mourning
Leave me this bad taste
Leave me this sad and sorry waste
   Living world of impurities

Leave me this morning

We all hold the pen in our hands, we all sing the tune
many stories will be told, many pouring out their soul, was it love or rock and roll

Crackling. Rocking. Crackling. Creaking and oscillating, a century old **Mahogany Wood seceded to the paSsage of time.
Particles of sand, confounded by the Peninsula’s chaotic, blasting breeze now revealed a shade of burnt tar.
   Outside of the second floor Maissonette, sways the rocking chair once warmed by Grandpa.
A Tactless, impatient, rhythmic Requiem Bashes near the wiNdow pane as the sunset falls Under the frame.  
                                                        ­    Empty Folklore presides like the Residue of a once lambent effigy…                                               SwOosh. Hush!
           Cocktails were a Preamble to lunch like diabetes to Nephropathy.
Corrosive Rhetoric seeped in to expose the ego of a Sommelier.
     A smile would Parachute down when you needed it like Nicotine to remind that no Precedent had been set, just an Anomaly.
                     Cutthroat beginnings, this was no Analog man.
        In grade school his Cosmos found Zion and “The world to come”.
        This baby’s Cradle, abandoned High atop a mountain was blown by a Chinook towards the Atlantic.
                “I was found swallowed in a stained Table cloth by Balkan children on a treasure hunt, with no Guarantee and no resignatIon. "
                     The boTtle narrates these chronicles and a smile parachutes down when you need it like nicotine.
                                          Dionysus Crafted his accounts while most Garnered his spiels with Snide.                               As they witnessed dream remembrance; he thought his memory was Presumably accurate, and although his tales were triFling to the gathering audience, they became his Heliocentric history.
            Calling me a young Galleon and handing me a map, Grandpa scanned his hand across the vast land
       guaranteeing trEasure would be found if I had no resignation.
               This Asinine assertion to my teenage sister Symbolized the Barring of her unheeding imagination by time and then a smile parachuted down just when she needed it like nicotine.


_TRF

I've found my new obsession.

Smirk affixed to his face
with sarcastic remarks
and slippery words,

mysterious in that stupid
teenage way.

I'd **** to hear what he has to say
about the nonsensical *******
we're forced to endure
each day
that the government calls an
"education".

I'm sure
his opinions on how
we're taught to the standardized tests,
nothing more
and nothing less
could cause enough raw power
to run the whole of New York City
for a month.

Though, too, I'd **** to learn
the terrain of his lips
as our bodies
slammed
against lockers,

oblivious classmates
a wall away
consumed by the
awesome
world of geography,
missing out on something
so
much
more.

He and I,
we'd know what more is,
we'd know how to consume it,
how to keep it at bay,
how to work it
like a hat,
a hat we aren't allowed to wear
at school.

We'd laugh at our own obscurity,
and shared secrets
would run through our veins
like blood,

one cut and it all spills