Through out the years, humans evolve to something better,
Someone among us will eventually tap even further...
Beyond all that is normal to a human body will change,
Look deeper and from beneath one's able to reach something out of range...
The sense of sight where we see the physical world and all its beauty,
Sometimes became a curse for all their lives, they only seen all that is ugly
We make use of our eyes to see things with appreciation before judging clearly,
That in our minds will be etched, painted picture of the meaning of all things we see...
The sense of hearing where we listen to the world and all that surrounds us,
That is sometimes dreadful where only what one hears are all other's lies
For the world whispers the truth more often than the lies being constantly yelled,
Schemes and plots are the same, only gets worst when being told not asked from what is being said...
The sense of smell and taste where we scent and savour the world's natural resources
The smell of the polluted air that's killing the environment that ends the life of withering trees and roses.
The taste of the food we eat everyday, so satisfying keeps us alive keeps us going,
Only that everyday is a slaughter, and the belly became a graveyard just in order to survive to end the craving...
The sense of touch where we feel the world with our flesh and bones to communicate,
The lust that the body craves is the strongest feeling that makes us grow and replicate,
Where the saddest form is pain which one feels from all the torments and torture,
A reminder that the world is unfair full of tyranny causing' all kinds of terror!!!
The sixth sense where we see the beyond of what this world have left behind...
We see things we don't understand yet some see them clearly the ghost where they stand,
The ability to communicate with the dead... An astral projection,
ones who have crossed the realm of the other world...A misconception ,
that it change faith and beliefs that changes life how it cycles and revolves...
The seventh sense... It is said that one who are able to tap and awakens it, can see the world's future,
The ability that one can bend time and space, a walk through time that changes the course of nature...
Flashing forward centuries and back again, To witness and prevent changes of things that might happen
Playing God became a taboo even before the beginning, so what's the message? For all this ability one is having?
Is God speaking to ask providing us potentials, a chance to see the world through his eyes?
How are we going to make use of the free will he bestowed unto us to see no more lies!
Only the truth that disrupts the balance mankind has made! Like rules a government planned
Or it will remain a mystery that only God knows and understand... The questions that are in our minds...
breathing is both a blessing and a curse.
friends aren't best friends until they prove it.
tears don't always come when you expect them to,
they usually come when the only thing you're
praying for are dry eyes for two more minutes.
broken things can be fixed. broken people can
only be restored if they want to be.
that empty feeling doesn't go away easily.
if they don't care for you, it's best to let go before
you get hurt or hurt yourself.
anger evolves into bitterness.
people believe a smile sooner than they
believe a creased forehead.
nobody will put you first, so it is imperative
that you do so yourself.
sunsets take away every single bad thought.
attachment is a recipe for destruction.
time doesn't exist in hospitals.
even psychologists will look at you funny.
some people just won't get you, and that's okay because
others will understand you better than you do yourself.
venting is an art form.
books are always an escape.
nightmares are hard to shake off and the only
thing that helps is time.
sometimes conversation will seem pointless,
and that's because it is.
everyone has their own story, and sometimes
it's best to just leave it at that.
The feeling I can never explain something just ingrained within you.
I can't explain what I never could understand.
We are the dreamers and suffer those who are awake.
Tragic are those who lack vision, misfortune is yours please spare mine.
The blade is now a pen my blood now Ink .
For whom it is lost is more found I.
The rejects of night are but misfits of my day.
As the poison seeps in as my creativity flows unto a void created in chaos none of which
was of my choosing.
Were all dreamers caught within a nightmare's grasp, losers of a game we chose not to play.
But we dam sure tried in spite of it all.
The blank page remains a suicide note to the forgotten chapter in a dust collected manuscript.
Secrets are best left buried like shipwrecks on the ocean floor.
Why be the judge when none are innocent or ever so guilty as I.
Dam the nights for bringing the memories upon me ,
and curse my thoughts for remaining after all these drinks.
Haunted are the souls of the living simply empty vessels that fill the streets.
Many years of passed.
Yet these thoughts never age .
Goddam the nights and winters empty chill!
The fire now only seems to smolder a dragons bluff to wolves such as I.
I hear the others howl I simply choose to ignore the sound.
Taking refuge in my thoughts and torment in scars past.
Empty are these thoughts that I unearthed tonight.
I hear the howls outside my door.
They are my burden and none else to understand.
In witching hours of lost hopes and broken dreams I find my solace.
I've ran with demons and slept with many angels, to burn only in the cold of ice.
Tomorrow is always a dream as from this nightmare maybe I'll wake.
Treasure the silence in it we find our true selves.
I hear the howls I simply choose to no longer answer.
If you kiss him
I will still write you poems.
I see you
Walking a tightrope of a choice
Leaning one way and then the other.
I see you.
I see everything, even when I try not to.
It is the curse of somebody
Who fears to miss anything
Lest it sneak up.
I don't miss anything
And that protects and damns me in equal measure.
I am ready, in some way, for every blow
But the price of that
Is that I feel them in privacy, alone and rigid,
Before they even happen,
They even happen.
I have choices.
We all have choices.
All we have
I could make the choice to go cold like stone
And protect myself in case you
Are upstairs right now,
Kissing him tonight the way you kissed me
I could make the choice to believe that there is nothing else that could possibly be happening,
And crumple in on myself like a fallen souffle,
Let myself feel soft and rotten inside like a fruit hidden in the grass
With perfect skin
And decay beneath.
I could choose to trust you
That I am special
That I am something
That even if you are up there kissing him
I haven't lost just yet.
I could choose to remind myself that when I met you
You were his
And now you aren't
Is more than I ever dared to hope for.
What is strong, darling?
Tell me what strong is.
I asked you with my eyes last night
And the answer I got was that at that moment
Strong was not something that mattered,
And I fell into that,
Tired and released, for once.
But I never did find out-
What am I
That I will still write you poems
Even if you forget me?
Black bears on the sidewalk huffing
Wild cats in the cold prowling
A monster chained to the lies of the town
The tragedy of his father
Decaying on the winter’s avenue
He ran out of the city
He headed north across state lines
Leaving destruction and annihilation behind
Never taking one single look back
One afternoon he rose in a busted motel
With an unfamiliar beast snoring next to him
Blood dripped from its yellow hide
Are we all here?
The values and morals we all held dear now gone
The coyote was jet black
Frizzed and starving
And I was too frightened to even look
The blankets were steaming locks
And my love was next to me
So beautiful my love
Her eclipsing black eyes
Her soft sweet tasting lips
Hurry out the door run
She’s on her way
I cannot survive this, every time she moves in closer
I allow my wall to come down
Feel the cold fear on the back of my neck
The howl of the coyote in the distance
What’s your pleasure, what’s your pain?
Are you clever, are you sane
You don’t know, now it seems
That my soul cannot be tamed
The taste of fame, this is new
Now you thrive, now you lose
Now you fear the rule of two
Just play your role and make it through
Way back in the universal mind
The answers to ancient riddles you shall find
The sun burns endlessly on the city
Above and beyond its limits
And the mazes of the riverbed
Underneath the silent other worldly shadows of
Weary mountain men, on the cliff just over there
Wild dogs congregating
Hieroglyphics, fallout shelters, new advancements in self awareness
Every home repeats a cycle
Animal’s cage lock until show time
Now rest, rest
Carpet stains, cracks in the windows
Sweep the dust under the carpets
Many affairs stick on these sheets
Virginities lost in the comforter
The dead still linger here
Don’t pause or make one false move
My suitcase and briefcase are on the floor
We’re heading for the door
And we’re leaving now
And I guess you’re coming with me
She can’t lift the curse
I am not the one
There are a certain few who can
Dragged against my will
Crowd is screaming kill
Savages and thieves
Bringing victims to their knees
The innocent come but never leave
Come with me
Come with me
Just trust me
We hid from the swarm of nonsense and swill
The rich hide in their mansions in fear
The dead are rotting and no one cares
And we’re just lucky to be left alive
Come with me
Come with me
Just trust me
Life is cut short cause he went too far
We should have seen it from the start
He got in front of the wheel of a car
I suppose I missed that part
Some people live without faith
Then the pastors daughter went and got raped
By some one that came from the unknown
Then and there the answer was shown
I will make you mine
It was the blacked coyote
This chaos is not fantasy
We hurried home
Past the lakes and the roads
We returned home from
Our tales so tall
We came home from
Laconia and Meredith
We came home from
El Passo disillusioned
And I won’t give you
The keys to the empire
I will give you
A story to listen to
Fighting winds into submission
For ten years I tried
To live on the island of Elba
The mind games I played there
Now I have returned
To the place of freedom, bravery and wisdom
Mother, father of the west
Which of you shall join the celebration?
Now morning comes with her brilliant glow
Today we shall go back to the time I was orphaned
I’m finally prepared to come to terms with my origins
What can I say,
I love the attention of temptation.
because I am the one holding the apple
granting the answers you seek.
Because I am curious to what bodies feel like
especially my own, made new by new hands.
This poison goes down with the sweetest burn,
hot and heavy, slowly dissolving
its always in the eyes.
And the drugs never work, quite the way you want them too.
With a numb throat I hold my words for ransom
We never quite reach out toward each other,
and never know why. There is only glimpses and smiles, and hearts quickening for a brief longing
that lasts til dawn
like spell, or perhaps a curse.
But we aren't in a fairy tail
and I'm too busy chasing my dreams
and befriending my nightmares,
to chase you.
I'm running with the wind.
There are three curses of the soul
And each in turn take their toll
For all I feel and know
All I see
First is the curse of knowing too much
Secrets thought forgotten in the dust
Things I can never pull from my head
Things that keep me awake in my bed
Second is another of excess
Caring to much, dying in the process
Wishing only to bring you back to life
Wishing only to do what is right
Last and the most cruel of them all
The fire at the bottom of the fall
That which keeps me crawling through
The trench of darkness to find you
Hope, a poison of heart and mind
Hope to one day be kind
To give you back sight
To see your smile so bright
For this I would die
Maybe then I would see the light
take me back to paradise
where love was a curse
and the lies were the the truth
take me back to heaven
where my scars are forgotten
and my sins are cleansed
take me back to age 8
when my appearance defined me only
and my flaws were unrecognized
take my back to your arms
where i can truly be myself
and understand what true love is
Christmas was the one day when the guns died away...
There were soldiers from both sides,
But we all spoke the same language on Christmas.
December 24th, 11:50 pm
10 precious minutes until Christmas.
I can hear gunshots BOOMING and BANGING on all sides around me...
The sky, even though it is supposed to be dark, is red with bloody gunsmoke.
Men from both sides are on the ground,
Merely bleeding to death.
I have been instructed to not help them.
They're just gooks after all...
They don't live, breathe, and bleed just like you and me.
December 24th, 11:59 pm
The guns are more heated than ever.
My adrenaline is racing.
The crisp, frigid air is kicking my ass right now.
The tears that I have shed are now frozen to my face.
My legs are burning,
But I cannot stop running.
December 25th, 12:00 am
Guns cease to fire...?
"Why have they stopped firing?"
I shout to my neighbor.
He just grins, like the little boy he truly is, and simply responds,
I cannot contain my joy.
All over the battlefield,
Men hoot and holler with joy and glee.
The guns and insults stop.
In their place,
Men sing praise to the God they often curse,
And remember Rudolph, Frosty, and the other childish characters who used to make them innocently smile.
December 25th, 12:10 am
Every man who hasn't fallen yet has found a place to rest their head for the night.
We temporarily become friends with our enemies.
My buddy pulls out a flask from his sack,
And he spreads a little "Christmas Cheer" around the trench.
December 25th, 12:00 pm
We take the time to sleep...
We take the time to quietly talk about our girls back home...
About the families that we've left behind...
About the food, activities, and places we miss most...
We make the most of every small, yet precious, moment that goes without a shot or kill.
December 26th, 12:01 am
We remember that we're supposed to kill each other,
So that's exactly what we do.
Christmas is the only time to be friends...
Any other day is a day to kill.
Christmas is a universal language.
Evidently everyone can understand it...
I guess it's just mutual that we take the time to NOT kill each other.
Oh, why can't everyday be like Christmas?
boy, you will think smoking makes a pearl in your gut. there will be three doctors like writing shacks constructed from memory. to each you will deny the existence of a one-way baseball. prognosis is a curse. when you are curled by infancy I will toss objects through a tire swing. by the way I am your father no one likes. pain is not the last room the world has. to be fair, pain is the last room
with a toothbrush. knowledge is a sick woman. she takes out her breast in a snowstorm.