Aloof from reality
People permeate through you
Hold it in
You cannot seem to conjure a pure thought
Your troubles engulfing you
The people become elusive
Are you there?
But you give no signal
Reassure those who try to reach in
Don't them in
Let's play pretend
That life is ok
That you know me
That I am real
Are you there?
Silence is all they hear.
Out into the dark forest
I will go.
I will wait for him,
but I will wait;
at the mouth of an ebony river,
listening to what the Mother has to say.
And out into the thick dark forest
he will go,
hunting for me.
like my warm breath
on his neck
keeps his heart beating.
From miles away
he will hear me
whisper his name,
my love rippling through the soil.
Leaves will fall
with the trembling of my hands,
just before they rest on his shoulders.
And in the unearthly spotlight
we will be guided
into each others minds,
for there sleeps Salvation.
And we will thrash and thunder
and bang and crash
and Salvation will find us,
for it's deadly grace.
We will march on,
our hands clasped
with a fierceness nearly flammable,
More valuable than universal affirmation
Of utmost admiration.
There’s nothing worth risking its cessation,
Even in the face of unjust condemnation.
What lies within the deepest regions of my chest
Is my salvation from duress.
Sine waves, perpetual motion
Centripetal force, density of the ocean
Register, register, schedules, grades
Grants and scholarships, tuition is paid
No snooze button, turn off the alarm
Losing some sleep. It's ok, though, no harm
Friendly teachers and Nazi instructors
Digital logic and semiconductors
Homework, classwork, essays, papers
Last minute class of procrastinators
Get up, get blazed. 'Fore school, 'nutha blunt
High while accepting student of the month
Higher than you, and my grades, too, are higher
How smart would I be if I put out the fire?
Gen. Ed., English, Mathematics, Psychology
Now on to the good stuff, much richer chronology
Top of my class, highest grade in the program
In just a few years, I'll have money in BOTH hands
This hand-to-mouth shit ain't for me
I'm tired of living week-to-week
Broke, tired, and hungry day after day
But when payday comes, it'll be here to stay
You don't have to do as I do
But my feet are too small to fill these big shoes
If you think I can't fill them, then surely you're trippin'
But do whatcha do, cause my burgers need flippin'
Oh, fearsome fate will you heed my cry,
To thou'st pray, upon thy knees shall, I.
For shall it'st be 'tis conjuring of fate,
That hath drawn mourn-so many innate,
For upon the dearest ground shall'st thy knees kiss,
And pray'st the clearance of the beclouding mist,
For to none shall their fate be so written clear,
For to none shall their fate be tell'st to thy ear,
For to none shall their fate be given a'share,
For one to know is only when 'tis draws near.
Oh, greedy self can you pray'st for nothing not,
But grasp what's been given to thy before 'tis a'rot.
And begg'st not to thy knees of her faithful skies,
And race'st to thy moon shall then thy all'st tries,
And fear not the failures as thy'st travel a'fars,
For if we fall, we'st fall upon the very stars.
Interspersed upon the leaves the drops dissipate calling for hate, lust and vileness. Blood, the life of the universe. Falling blue and red and erroneous shades of black. Use some pills, drills, and saws – rip and tear and find the truth hidden inside the beast. What is contained besides the bile, filth and caustic, abrasive greed?
I am in levels. Past levels. This deep, intrinsic wonderful lost, the lawlessness of its fascinating expenditure of excite. Pushing through the wild and feral snow-dusted plains and timber ridges. Like red-spotted dots breathing through the cylinders called the spine. This descends into a narrow channel of scantly clad greenish scenery in a time-soaked visionary wilderness of snow,
Our crab legs dancing down wiry purple highways, our heads could not even look backwards if we had wanted.
Furious, love-latitudes, stalking breaths thwacking fork-ended tongues into a pinkish knot buried into the first layer of organic membrane on this railway of miniature canals, showing. And their pride snuck into the elbows, shooting down each vertebrae as it stepped with great precision every ledge that the currency emphasized. The raw accumulation of stolen heart-beats rattling between the interstices of new fuel careering these red engines. Crashing with exquisite pleasure into one another.
When I meet the end
Don’t follow in suit
Dress me in a suit
With however many moments
Next of kin
In the blend
Of happiness and ignorance
I stand content
Contrary to my obligation
Cradled and Casted
Into the vast void
The evidence of decompostion
Doesn’t sit well
That demand proof
To make use of life
Make it based on faith
With a flash
Until the last memory
Isn’t as strict
As the script portrays
I believe we are a portrait
There’s only truth
In what we see
The beauty or disgust
What we perceive
By the hands of time
The power of an idea
The strength of a concept
And The Intrinsic Value of Nothingness