Upward-curled, gleam of white
But as yet, something missing
“I swear, I’m quite alright!”
My wonder turns to stressing.
Is she really quite alright?

No-one wears their shoes,
Socks upon the carpet
Browning fog turning loose,
But purple mist diffuses.
Is she really quite alright?

My wonder turns to worried health,
I turn my focus to myself,
I pull a beer down from the shelf,
Indulging still our failing health,
She smiles, as if to say that she’s alright.

Trading sweat between our hands,
A greeting shared from man to man
We speak ambition, WE ARE PROUD
Our cigarettes, they make no sound.
They know that it will soon be their turn.

To be or not… I have forgot.
Our wasteland, wasted, seems alright
It skips my mind I’m all I’ve got
I’ve never put up much a fight
I hope I’ll quickly be all right.

But there are NO PROMISES
And no safe-houses.
smoke arouses surety,
But holds the door for vanity.
But as for me,
I highly doubt she's feeling free.

Charging, useless, up the hill,
The last endeavor of it's kind,
Cry peace, peace, but peace is killed,
Fulfill the end of southern mind.
There is no way that she's okay.

As men in grey
Lay on the ground
Bleeding with untempered sound
I cast my eyes about the house
I find her broken, fading lips
Pressed limp against assailant’s kiss

Those pearls that were
Her sentient eyes,
They cast upon me smiling sighs
She clings the arm of shifty eyes
And leaves the party, new inside.
And now I know she’s not alright.

But then again, nor am I.

When I was a Girl who's only super power was sleeping and crawling
My mother passed away
Left my father to raise two young children all on his own
He gave up everything for us
Sold the restaurant he had spent years saving to build
The motorcycle he swore would always be his
The one that set off car alarms and ******* neighbors.

When I was a girl who's greatest superpower was my ability to make imaginary friends
I thought my dad was superman
He fixed scraped knees
Fended off scary bugs
And beat impossible levels on video games.
I never realized it but he did more noble feats than kiss booboos and squish spiders.
Money never came easy to us, most of the time my father stayed unemployed so he could raise two children with love
Raised us on the retirement from fighting like captain America for our country

When I was a girl who's super power consisted of seeing the good in the world I always wondered why my dad didn't eat with us most days
Or why the lights sometimes went off
And water was cold
I know now that my superhero chose to pay for food for us over bills
And spread Mac and cheese boxes to last a lifetime
He gave up the comfort of food so we could have full tummies
And for that I'll always be grateful

When I was a girl who's super power was selfishness
I hoped for a mother
Wished on every birthday cake and shooting star
Praying to one day have a mom.
I paid the price for my selfishness
My wish came true the day my dad brought his new fiancé home

When I was a girl who's superpower was invisibility
My stepmother told me my mom never wanted me
Called her a useless **** head
And called me stupid.
I saw my father less and less
And At first he swooped in to save me from the wounds of her words.
But she stole his cape.

I am a girl with the power to masquerade as a woman now
And I speak only a few words to my father a week
My stepmothers words still wound me
But she is my fathers kryptonite
Stripping him of his powers leaving behind a tired man.
she has pulled our family from poverty and for that I'm grateful
But I'll never forgive her being the reason my fathers cape lay folded in the closet.
And every time I hear my father say he misses me it sounds like an apology for the last six years!
And when I say it back
I hope he can hear the begging to see him more.
My dad used to tell me he loved me every night before I went to sleep
Now we go days without saying it.
Without seeing each other
And now every time I hear it whispered under his breath as he gives a quick hug so the hulk doesn't see
It still sounds like the booming voice of the hero who carried me all the way home at three after getting stung by a wasp on the webbing of my finger and sobbing like I was going to die
And I feel the lump in my throat swell every time I echo it back like sonar
And can still see whisps of a cape behind him as he diffuses dr.dooms time bomb by saying the dish in the sink is his and sneaking me a wink.
I refuse to lose my dad to distance before I lose him to disease.

I am a girl learning how to control the power of the world around me
My father is dying.
Liver giving out from years of untreated disease after years of putting his health aside.
And he pulls oh his cape every time he smiles like a rain after a 100 year drought and tells me
'I'll be okay. You know I'm invincible.'
And I always say that I do forcing insincerity out of my voice.
I can see the weight of the cape he has worn for so long take its toll
His back is arching from the weight of having to be strong
A bulletproof savior of this family.
So I will take it from him.
Bear the burden of being strong and putting others needs before me.
I will shelter him under it whenever deadshot's bullets of insults come flying.
Because even though at times I thought I lost him.
With or without a cape
My farther is still my hero.

And I am a girl learning to be his.

396

There is a Languor of the Life
More imminent than Pain—
’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the Soul
Has suffered all it can—

A Drowsiness—diffuses—
A Dimness like a Fog
Envelops Consciousness—
As Mists—obliterate a Crag.

The Surgeon—does not blanch—at pain
His Habit—is severe—
But tell him that it ceased to feel—
The Creature lying there—

And he will tell you—skill is late—
A Mightier than He—
Has ministered before Him—
There’s no Vitality.

Get
                                           *Priorities
  Right

       *Like an arrow aiming for a dart board -------------------------->>>>>>
       Like a summer changing to autumn   >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>------>
       Like a sparrow soaring to an empty nest ------------------------>>>>>

Get
                                           Priorities
 Right
      As you do when you stare at a beautiful woman --------------->>>>>                      
      As the coffee beans diffuses in boiling eager waters------------>>>>>
      As a secret garden that houses the priced earth----------------->>>>>

Get
                                           Priorities
 Right
    As the chills smiles when the cloud are blue and vague-------->>>>>
    As often as the million miles that separate diverse souls------->>>>>
    As Mary Jane treats her man on a fine Sunday afternoon------>>>>>

Get
                                           Priorities------------- * Don't mess it up!
 Right
     Like when George got acquainted with the masseur---------->>>>>
     Like when you were trampled for showing empathy --------->>>>>
     Like when you sunk in the ***** swamps for letting go------>>>>>

Do you ever realize that
This universe
Can be likened to blood?

Do you ever just sit down and realize,
That the stars in the skies
Are platelets rushing to form a clot
Around an ever expanding cut
Constantly pouring out blood?

The composition of the blood
Diffuses
And becomes that rich oxygenated red
That becomes dilutes with the air
Of our atmosphere
And the ruby red sunlight becomes
Lovely, lovely orange and yellow,
The kind that get you all mellow.

It also splits into the
Cold color of deoxygenated blood
Yes blue.
We watch it ooze
Slowly
Putting the vast expanse of the heavens
On display
After the day
Is done.

Then there is the plasma
Which scientists say is the
Fourth state of matter
But what does that even matter?

Do you ever realize that
This universe
Can be likened to blood?
Produced from an
Ever expanding wound
Like that of Christ whom
Was bruised for our sins.

Do you ever realize that
The universe that surrounds us
Could be
The blood of Christ
There to erase our sins?
That the more we do wrong,
The more blood he bleeds
Thus the more we see
The universe increase?

Do you ever realize that
The universe is constantly expanding
And will never stop?
I mean doesn’t that thought
Ever pop
Into your mind?

a flame sparks
fuses into lavender
beauty diffuses
smoke, scent,
peace.
Freedom, joy, love
earth, wind
divine.
Melt...ash
but lavender.

The smoke curls towards the sky.
At a different point in time our bodies curled together.
But, that was, indeed, a different point in time.
And trembling on  the remembrance of the past is silly.

As I was saying, before the past rushed in like a wave,
A wave that crashes over the sea barriers,
and sweeps away the fleeing tourists,
that the smoke curls towards the sky.

It slowly diffuses into the foggy, white air.
Diffuses isn't the correct word though.
We are not talking about liquids moving from
an are of high concentration to one of low concentration.

As I was saying, before scientific vocabulary interrupted me
just as the attacks on towers interrupted to 2001
Major League Baseball Season, the smoke slowly crept
up into the sky, into the wet November air.

As it combines itself with the fog, just as we
combined our hearts through our hands in the hot July
dog days. Although the dog days really weren't
as bad as they have been in previous years.

Anyway, as I was saying, before remembrance of old loves
snuck into my mind, much as the thought of you does
in History, while I'm trying to learn about the French invasion
of Russia. Or the **** (Or the Roman) invasion of Russia.

Oh, **** it. This is pointless.
I'll never get anywhere with this ******* smoke
curling to the ******* sky.
So, **** it. I'll just watch the smoke curl
and be content.

In those days of woe with head hung low
In those moments of regret,
When your actions lose momentum
And your heart begins to fret.
When the best of plans do not work out
When your mountain seems too steep
And tractions lost in everything
And losing makes you weep.


Hard grafting wears your bones too thin
Your tomorrows fade to mist,
The splendour of your recent past
Despatched to moments missed.
Frustration that the rainbow plans
Have dwindled in the rain,
That your brilliant expectations
Have expired to things mundane.


Your stature has diminished
In the eyes of those you love,
Your capableness stultified
By the pointing velvet glove.
Self confidence is wilted now
Belief within less sure,
Potentialities diminishing
With every shrunken score.


Dark sombre thoughts receeding
Blue corners fade to gold,
Discontentment ****** asunder
As new amber dreams unfold.
The towering unhappiness
Diffuses to the air
And spirals of positivity
Emerge from here and there.


The path beyond the shadowed lane
Is there for you to tread,
Gird your soul for chance my friend
Discard the shoes of lead.
There must be dreams to savour
There must be goals to meet,
So launch your bold tomorrows
And delight in unknowns sweet.


You’re sailing in fair breezes now
The silver waters flow,
Warm sunshine on your shoulders
Rich contentment’s fine red glow.
For there must be dreams to savour
To hold within your heart,
To engage the thrill of living
And make each day a joy to start.


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
7 June 2009

The car rattles along and the cityscape comes into sight. The city bustles with life and I watch the never-ending whirlwind of characters in a motion picture show. The flickers of city light diffuses and casts a shine on the photographic opportunities.
I see you and how you are oblivious to your own enchanting and radiant soul.
You are more stunning than the stars, yet also unattainable and heartbreakingly beautiful to gaze upon. I hope someday you achieve your goal of happiness and that you meet someone truly worthy of you. All I want to do is embrace you, ease your pain, carry your sorrows and share your joys. However, I know that I will never have the privilege.

I sense something on the horizon that beckons and pulls me in. Do I resist or investigate the call? I hope that in the future, I don’t instigate a further parting of ways. The only thing that would compel me to do that would be if that I were to cause you great harm emotionally in some way, intentionally or not. I will endeavor to the best of my ability not to. But like everyone else I’ve ever known, I might still push you away.

You are so wonderful to me but how am I even worth of being a part of your life? I don’t understand and I’ll try not to disappear. Honestly, you would be better off if I did.
In the future we might walk right past each other and in a flash we become strangers again. Sadly, all of our history and time together have ceased to be. Of course, I will inevitably be the one to blame. Oh Darling but it was worth the while.

Sleep diffuses me.
I am unwrapped, unbodied, uncoiled.
Behind shut lids there are endless sights to see.
Time extends her fingers.  
Infinity becomes one.
The taste of water lingers.
Kilometer poles unravel.
My pulse stretches with harmony into silence.
I forget the distance of my travel.
I let the shadows drown me without defiance.
Night's blanket shelters me tenderly.
I sink deeper.
There is scarcely a bliss comparable
to the bliss of (a sleep)er.

A steamy trail of particulate vapor issues from her lips
tracing the outline of her silhouette and rising
up,
up,
it diffuses into nothingness

Don’t listen to what your parents or teachers tell you, kids-

smoke is very ****.

she exhales again

slithers languidly through the still air
stretching for something-
rolls across my coffee table
like dunes in fast-forward
drips off the edges-

-gone.

She puffs a thick ring at me
it crosses through the void space toward me;
I reach out to touch it- to grasp it
and it dissipates;
she grins-

such teasing.

Smoke is-
and
is not-
it traces the airflow-
the negative space
like a jungle cat pretending to be
the light between the leaves

she knows this
and she can see that I know she does

Smoke
is why I am so captivated
So fascinated
so mesmerized
so transfixed
by her
and in general-

by women.

I down the shot of whiskey. It burns its way down my throat. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air as it sails in from outside. I open my eyes and flick my lighter. Watch as it sparks alive and latches itself onto the end of my clove cigarette, melting it.
I inhale and my lungs fill. I release, contracting my lungs. Smoke floats out and diffuses into the atmosphere. I breathe in the smell of the sweet addiction.

Once I'm finished, I lay back down beside her. She has the face of an angel. So sweet, so innocent. I stare at the peacefulness on her face and try to figure out why she chose me. Why she loves me. There's nothing special about me. I reach over and run my fingers through her soft, straight, blonde hair that's sprawled out on the pillow behind her. Her hands are tucked beneath her cheek.

I remember back to when I asked her to come with me. I didn't really want to go, but I know she did and I would do anything for her. We danced around the living room of our tiny house to the static of the AM radio. She refused to dance to some hip-pop song that they repeated on the radio. Her face brightened as she laughed. I kissed her cheeks then random places on her face. She laughed and squirmed but never stopped swaying with me.
"Let's do it. Let's travel. Europe, Mexico, Asia, Canada. Wherever you want to go." Her smiles softened as she looked into my eyes. She searched to see a bluff. Yet, there wasn't one. She wanted to get away. I would give her a getaway. I would give her anything.

We ended up in Rome first. We wrapped the moon around us as we slept under the stars.
London was next. We rode the London Eye many times around. She laughed the whole way.
Mexico was third. Just hours ago, we walked into a dated diner. She chose the corner booth in the back. Secluded and comfy. Even with all the space the booth provided, we sat hip to hip. Talking and giggling. We spent the evening in that booth, talking about anything and everything, meaningful or not. It felt not long after we arrived, a Hispanic woman walked over to us, letting us it was time to close. We said our apologies and left. Deciding to rent a hotel room, we chose a ancient one. One with columns and historical means-in her eyes.

The French doors let air blow in, the curtains connected to the doors ruffled. I slid my fingers from her hair and ran my callused thumb down the side of her face. I was so lucky to have her. I hadn't a clue to what I'd do without her.
"I love you," I whispered. The air ****** my words into infinity and beyond. I pressed my lips to her forehead, careful not to wake her.

Just like whiskey and clove cigarettes, she was my sweet addiction.

Far down the line
But my skin will stay café
The dark side of a lunar moon
Casts shadows upon my face
But the light shines down and diffuses
A fusion that I embrace
I look back at time
I look back at space
The line I walk
I’ll keep my pace
My ears preserve
To speak with grace
And make some sense
Of muddled race
Sharp is my tone
And so I brace
For those who cry
“You have no place”
I’m springing forth
From ancestral base
An intricate weave
Of familial lace
From within my core
Beats resonate
My soul resounds
Like deep, rich bass
A load I can carry
But tedious weight
My calm brown hair
I’ll never hate
With open arms
Receive my fate
I wish I could aid my earlier brethren
Slaving away on that Southern estate
I am not done…
Will I be too late?

Black ink drips into clear water; it diffuses.
I am a pebble, thrown,
Skimming the surface until it loses;
I am submerged but not alone.
There is blackness all around me,
Thin but clearly evident.
Water bodies are my happy places;
Black is a lack of color- a numbness.
I could dive into the ocean,
But apathy would follow my path.
I am running, breathing heavily,
But I can't escape the crawling black.
There is an inkwell inside everyone,
But mine- I have acknowledged it.
Try as I have to escape the thoughts,
It latched onto the acknowledgment.

Once in my life, a few years past,
I dove directly to the black,
Hating the world outside my water glass-
The only way to block the mass.

Since then, the ink has followed me,
Bodies of water to water bodies,
Creating a film through which I see,
A subtle, haunting apathy.

We're not so different, you and I.
There is an inkwell inside everyone.
You are sitting on the lid of yours.
From mine, I am on the run.

I have never seen such a star before!

It shines
by and to
the sides of my eyes
but only until I’d look up
to see it Fully

It has never been there maybe!

or is it its nature to just disappear
when
and because I look up ?

or are we
playing a game of
kika boo
to test
a rhyming faith?

which could
become a melody
to the lines of darkness
uncloaking us

once or thrice
does not seem matter
to the form of my observation

sheltering in a multicolored ice

Catch this subtle point of luminosity
Now ! - If you can

and once you have it
Set it free
or Stay there
as if meditating on headstand
and clear your mind

before night diffuses into light
and shines through a crystal
with a hidden star inside

I cannot prove If eyes are not be made of its
material
and only a deluded mind  -Alas !
questions

such useless
doubt of difference
of the other
by the other
about the other

And the other
always and only
drowning
in the corridors of beliefs
and thought-constructs

but
Is it not pointless
Trying to catch
a star
Camouflaged
in daylight ?
...
and sometimes recklessly
at the tip of my nose
makes me giggle just
as if a **** tickle
at a mystic corner
on a lover’s lip
longing for its kiss variant

then
I look down again
Tired of the silly mind game
Just to feel it by my side
A sweet friend
A sweet love
Made of my trust
Only appears
to the side of my eyes
So what!
A needle tip sized glitter
sourceless
Living only
in the reflection of the reflection
of a night sky
Shining on my window
behind which I hide now

The trumpet is gradually blowing.
It's neither awake nor asleep.
And the drum beat hit a bit.
And the whispering voice that you hear
Later, the bold roar of a wolf rises.
Far in the distance, a speechless child
Waving her hand to catch the green
Imagine this kind of dreaming.
Happening in the sense of reality
Moving toward the girl horrendously
But my tongue was quaking like a snake.
I don't know what to say to help.
Because of the hideousness of her face,
It was a call from the darkness.
My name is loudly mentioned periodically.

Safana...
Safana...
Saaaffffaaannnnaa!
Take me away.
Take me away.
Take me away.

Dark smoke diffuses from an unknown space.
It covers almost everywhere in space.
I started coughing.
I think I will go to the grave. That is.
I am absolutely tethered to the rope and,
I'm being dragged somewhere like a hole.
 
I screamingly shouted 
Again and again,
And then, quite suddenly,

And then,
silence suddenly,
My eyes slowly begin to open
I am beneath a concrete canopy.
It's a stone chamber like a crypt.
Far from it, it's a ropeless,
a suspended bed draped in a red blanket

I am dragged heavily towards the bed's edge.
Suddenly, I am suspended between up and down.
And the man, with a horror face, woke from the bed
approaching my side, invoking Cyphe incantations.
He circled the ground with red blood.
His gaze was fixed on the roof. He is
Incanting with an unperceiveable word.

"wede demi yimit’u
  wede demi yimit’u
  wede demi yimit’u"

"demuni yimitu ina
gurorowoni yarik’u."

"o፣ widi yesī’oli āganiniti፣

weyi widi yesī’oli seyit’anati

weyi widi yekirīpiti seyit’ani"

He took his head and looked 
deeply into my sight, then a knife.
appeared in his hand. 
He approached where I am suspended.
All of a sudden, he came and stabbed the knife in the area of my chest.
I screamingly shouted again
and again and I woke up when
I realized it was my cat 
sitting on my chest.

I dream of a place,
Where he is mine.
Where the arms that envelop me in their security,
Are His.
                I dream of a place,
                Where the lips that devour me
                In their seek for passion and glory,
                Are his.
I dream of place,
Where the eyes that pierce all the walls that I have meticulously built,
Are the same shade of golden brown,
As his.
                And I dream of a place,
                Where his voice soothes the apertures in my head,
                Where his hand traces the tears that trickle down my cheek,
                Where the warmth in his body, diffuses the cold in My heart.
I dream and I dream,
But in the end,
That's just what they are,
*Dreams.

Floating
engulfed in penny light

the coppery-brine amalgamation penetrates my mouth
swallowing
viscous globe of blood-riddled ***

the shards of shell
spines split by the tide
echo my sentiments

current eschews shallow alluvial grave
cognizant cicumvolution
ambient gyre
diffuses carapace shrapnel into my calves

gulls enigmatically screech-stripped
slap briny padded patterns into the shoreline
pausing only upon my primal glottal stop

toes curl about inundated sand
clouting divets shift
dilatory run – slammed inert by invariable wave

cochineal effluvium plumes lilt
crepuscular rays refract further distortions

Neath the water I blindly ***** my body
Ridged projections jut from smoothed flesh
Puckering at my own touch

I sink beneath atmosphere
liquescent folds embrace promptly
I drop beneath chaos

Bare palm dig into viscid terrain
rung after rung demanding presence into the depths
I claw forth onto a sand bar

emerging
shard flanked form
eyes blazing
cuticles numb

pulse flit
patina of blood and grit

Fulgent tread propels
Upon shore
I walk back to my residence
A warrior - mortal
plated in copper and brine

The july evening sun
cheers my tired heart
that wanders with sways of now
and memories of endless summers
over the streets
the friendly breeze greets all
and rises up along the facades,
diffuses and disappears
to live and flow forever
Through the hearts it touched
One day in summer.

You put the life between your teeth,
the tip of your tongue brushes gently against it,
and draw a breath.
Reaching ******* and pulling it out
you look at the life,
with it's burnt edge and crumpled paper wrapping.

Watching the smoke unfurling slowly,
you contemplate leaving the life like this-
in the safety of your fingers,
away from your ever threatening mouth,
******* out all the life that is your life.

You decide against it
and slide the life back past your lips.
Breathing in, you can't help but smile,
a small,
weak,
tired smile.
You tilt your head back as life fills your lungs,
as it pumps through your veins,
diffuses into your cells.

It's smaller now, feebler.
A few ashes break away from the lit end
and glide downwards,
caught in a gust of wind.
Softly,
you press it against your lips,
dragging on your life.

An inner earthquake rattles him again
             as the fiery sun dips in the horizon
             Can he too, hide his halo as such?
             Closing his eyes as he folds in his wings,
             wishing he could take it off
             He trembles...must he embrace darkness to know of love?

Sun breaks over the mountain range,
her obsidian skin absorbing the light.
If her body is like a canvas of night,
could she reach within herself,
beyond the horns and hooves
and find her own hidden sunrise, deep inside?

             The darkness is more reassuring
             than he could have ever imagined-
             something to truly weigh his goodness against,
             in a finely-tuned balancing act.
             And as the stars can help guide a lost soul,
             he too possesses a true north within.

Oddly enough, she welcomes the radiance,
such a stark contrast to what she has been used to-
rays drip into her like ink diffuses in water,
a momentary burst of chaotic brilliance,
followed by an even stillness.
She cannot escape it, becoming a part of her.

             The rooster crows for the third time,
             so he opens his eyes to this daybreak,
             emerald mountains shimmering in the morning light.
             Through abysmal depths, he arises and now realizes
             Darkness comes as the light falls, it is inevitable…
             yet Light also takes over that darkness.

With the thickening dusk,
clouds turn into amethyst ribbons.
The day's warmth thawed a part of her
that was kept frozen and dead for eons.
Now, she would do everything in her power
to keep it pulsing--to keep it alive.

---------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­---
             *Upon watching them, sheer fascination takes over…
             Even though these two are on different paths,
             they had both achieved a similar transformation,
             as if neither was an agent for one side, or the other.
             Not any longer.
             And how their auras shone
             ....in perfect equilibrium.

Distorted heart -
Breaks and shatters a millionth,
Agonizing on the torment it had to bear,
Withered and terminating till its last,

Abdication has left me frail,
A void that now resides in the center of my heart, diffuses,
Penetrating torturous scars and bruises,
Aching from within,

Like a broken wing,
Or a leaf defoliating,
My heart slowly turns pitch black,
Ready to face extinction,

A wave of despair,
Constricting the walls of my veins,
A lumpy formation in the middle,
Not blood, just loss!

I take a drag from the last cigarette of the night,
tilt my head back as I stare up at the lightning.

Exhale.

As the smoke smooths past my lips I watch it drift into the still air.

The light catches it in the shadows as it reveals the outlines of a literal nothingness.
The moment fades as the smoke does.

The clouds exchange conversations.

The boom of thunder rolls over the treetops.

The cherry drips silky whisps of calligraphy.
Writing love letters to the oxygen as it diffuses slowly in to the dark.

My lungs ache for the softest part of a warm,
brown filter.
My lips caress it and as it slips away from my face I chase it down with more smoke.

Exhale.

Two bolts of stormy glory let it live on in a particular millisecond in time before it dies out in the night.

I smoke the nights last cigarette and reach away from the world with rock climbers fingers.
Digging in to the cracks of a wall made from oxygen and carbon dioxide.

Exhale.
-P.S.

my breath smells the same as my sister's.
not our explicitly clean breath, nor our post-meal breath,
but the natural essence that diffuses from within that cavity.

our parents were the same so the germs- the bacteria
that populate our orifices must be related too.
twin tongues, the same undulating monuments of calcium
and cavity.

We are granted little glimpses of heaven,
All throughout our life.
Noticed less in joyful times,
But more so during strife.

The outstretched hands of the sun,
Reaching through the trees,
Enduring the heat, insufferable,
But then - a transient breeze.

An infant staring across a room,
Who seems to seek your heart.
A friends who helps glue the pieces back,
When everything falls apart.

A hug from an unexpected source,
That diffuses all your pain,
The twinkling of the wild grass,
After a summer's rain.

A smile from an uncertain stranger,
That identifies your need,
Knowing your prayer is answered,
The very instant that you plead.

A lazy day without any rush,
When all the chores are done,
Laughter born of your very soul,
Just when life has lost all fun.

The privilege to hold a dying hand,
The relief of a second chance,
Are just a few little glimpses of heaven,
All that we must do....is glance.

My book has feelings
She speaks to me in silence
She describes those also
Who give her a beautiful life

My book is my true friend
She diffuses my darkness
To new experiments she takes me
And guides me about my religion

I can see it in my mind:
your crooked, sideways grin
it diffuses on to my face, and I smile.
I can hear it in my head:
your laugh jumps high and spins
I’ll sit down and loop it for a while.
and when I am unhappy
I’ll pretend to hear your voice
and then I’ll know that everything is fine.
for, when I get lonely
I’ll know you had a choice
you made the choice to choose to be mine.

such that our world allows
only all that easily diffuses;

our world governed by the
algebraic *x the multiplier
(yet no anomalies given our
speedy venture to recuperate
the supposedly stolen number of
exhibits), where denial can't claim +
when unsolved mysteries linger
and are lost by the multiplying constant:
nothing can be added to this world
in a true sense, many have tried
by becoming famous, but still
the overbearing x, of multiplying rather than
adding to it, and truth be told, mathematics
has provided us the prime assertions of
the tetragrammaton with +, -, x and ÷
(obelus: the H gemini): whereby this tetrasymbolum,
like all symbols is an expression of
surd upon surd, wholly optic -
an intuitive deciphering kindred of feline
scents and vocative with a meow
should a cat wish for a door to be opened
by a higher power with mandible thumbs
and escape into the darkened garden.

It’s day 247 and you’re still breathing. You tried to cheat the game of life, but it punishes you for trying to avoid the rules of the game. You tried drowning your sorrows with pills, but woke up in a hospital bed to the beeping of your heart. That **** noise haunting you because your heart's still singing the melody of your life. You tried hanging yourself in your haunting closet, and woke up in the same position with a progressing bruise around your neck. Still depressed, still alive.  You cut your waist into pieces but your body sewed the pieces right back up. You’re left with the scars, and they just remind you of  how hideous you are. The voices in your head get off on your pain, and all you’re doing is feeding them while starving yourself. They want to see you struggle, they want to see you sad. They know you have a long while till nature diffuses your atoms, and they want you to suffer. They want you to never enjoy your life because they never get to live besides through you. Quit starving yourself and starve your depression.

How do you prove an immunity to
a recurringly exhumed seclusion
when the noise of static, so intrusive when unmuted, easily confuses
and a skewed view produces only illusion's futile ruses?
Can't hands, seamlessly and when misguided, be abusive
from refusing their own bruises and contusions,
manifest and fuse into a multitude of misconstrued, misled misuses?
Yet I will argue choosing to humor the tune communicating through the intuitive music and movement that amuses-
what is heard echoes clues for harmony and hallowed union's
mutual congruence,
even in the crudest beauty and pursuit of human improvement and what we knew, uprooted.
Doubt, when reducing to delusions, always loses when refuted,
and though humility means fragile ****** included,
elusive truths all allude to an absolution through this-
what diffuses, what we keep, and how we do it the conclusion.