of the moving air.
Your colors way
I exhale pulling rolling seas
(the scale fish
of a quiet
These Souls come
So he sang
Her submitting in her dreams.
(wishing it that way)
And it was
I saw it all!
I watch the young-ins sleep!
your colors move
I interpret you!
Everyone can see through me!
Life has four different seasons
And my favorite is Autumn
Because I love the leaves turn different colors.
I love when the leaves run across the street
while the wind screams.
Life has a meaning some don't understand
And people try to find its meaning.
Life is a beautiful thing and I see that when
Autumn comes along.
The cool breeze,
Gets to the little hairs on your arm
While you wearing a sweater
And your teeth start to clap
As you exhale you see your fog in front of your eyes.
You see. . .
Life is beautiful and I found beauty
That it brings to the world
And as Spring comes along
I smile because daffodils & roses
Start to grow with all the other flowers
And I smile because there are so beautiful
You see. . .
Life is Beautiful.
Just look at the positive things
And you'll see.
Freestyle within seven minutes, I loved it (:
I tell my story to the air
I breathe the air and exhale slowly
Savoring my story
Pretending someone cares
But it’s just me
It comes out wrong anyway
I never tell it right
And every single night
I let it slip away
Every morning I awake
Recreate my memories
The wrong priorities
What difference does it make
Cause it’s just me
And it all just sounds so phony
And no one is deceived
There’s no one to believe
I’m never lonely
My minds filled with word banks
the ink spills, the words paint
a collage of love and hate,
Do you believe that destiny is the same as fate?
I write because something inside of me wants to escape.
Confiding in writing my thoughts often keep me awake.
Wake and bake.
Underneath you right now the earth shakes.
Time will tell if I will float or if I'll sank.
I use to meditate with Swisher's filled with Mary Jane.
Temporarily paralyzing the thoughts I think.
Leaving my dreams suspended we in a police state.
They're slowly building a fence around and locking the gate.
A fish in these waters I seen so many take the bait.
We all replaceable babies born to take our place.
Stay confident like Babe when I step up to the plate.
I'm freeing my people from mental slavery everyday.
I know Harriet and Sojourner would be proud of Me
I'm risking my freedom for people that I aint' even met
My mother would like me to join forces and become a vet
But I'm expressing thoughts that have the FEDS coming at your neck.
Like Martin, Malcolm, and Johnny was all put in check,
At times I wonder who is next?
For the three men above all I have is respect. They showed
Courage Peace and Love feelings I can emulate, reflect
cause in the face of Fear you have to learn and adapt.
Expect the unexpected and maintain aware developed minds
avoiding traps and filthy raps slowing down the hands of time
My brain starts to tingle I can feel it calculating rhymes
like news producers silence the truth and
constantly turning up the lies.
Dying is inevitable, Lives flash before our eyes.
Her skins as dark as the universe and her eyes as blue as the sky.
I've been through the lowest of lows that's why I'm constantly getting high
to ease the pain and break the chains I spread my wings to fly
to an eminent death when there's nothing left I love ones start to cry
and the only thing we can do about it is ask the Lord Whyyy?
"Yea, my country tis of thee, Sweet land of kill em all and let em die.
God Bless America"- Lil Wayne
the great exhale
I am the chaos that sits
Between your fingers when the night is dark,
And the streetlights are mesmerizing.
When the sun slips below the horizon, I am there
Watching it die,
And when it comes up on the other side,
I do not turn around.
I wait for it to circle
Back to where I am.
Each poisonous beam,
All of the thoughts that coil about in your brain
In the deepest part of the day;
I am there too,
Wild and carelessly picking my nails through your hair.
The stems of your tall trees are held under my hands,
And their leaves are decadent,
And splayed across fields of dirt
And picnic blankets.
Do you feel the great exhale?
The wind curls the corners of signs
That speak the way you used to,
In slow stutters and cautious phrases.
All of the fish in the sea are shouting your name;
A symphony, a chorus, anything that you can whisper
When black is too bright and seven scales
Scratch the inside of your beating chest.
When you swim in the thunder of an oiled lake,
Drink, and I will nourish you
With fire and poignant madness.
I exist in the void between revelation and collapse.
I am the drunken king of diamonds,
And the moon blowing away beneath the stars.
The taste of raw sugarcane and highway cafés,
Dusty on the riverside,
Makes the motion of undoing seem
Endlessly intact, as I am,
And as I will be, for now, and for then,
When the ten-thousand mile road comes to a cliff.
These are the breaths of the universe,
Enveloping. All these,
I am, and you are nothing, as I am.
The great exhale is coming.
the breath of the dragon
caresses the mountaintop
a swirling, dense, quiet mist
clings tightly to the land
and the gentle beast
devours the vanishing nature
paling the ambient light
all it touches
dawn has kissed the flora
and the dragon quietly sleeps
its all encompassing breath
blanketing the day
till the light of a thousand suns
the very last gasp
as the behemoth sleeps
waiting to exhale
upon the inevitable dusk
i guess my families falling apart again
it always is
and i lay here covered in sun flower petals
i lay here smoking a cigarette and
with every inhale, i exhale a part of me.
i am slowly losing myself again,
my hands are slipping
and with these bleeding lips you kiss my scarred neck
you kiss the bites that you left before
you lose yourself
i am already lost
i regret the blade every single time
but then i fall into it
i fall back into it because its my safety net
I take a breath and hold.
I tell myself,
“Pick up the pieces…
Because nobody else will.”
You’re not coming back.
And why would you?
Why would I expect you to walk backwards through this cold, storming heart?
It’s freezing rain,
I guess you could say I trust myself about as much as you do.
Trust, what a funny word, I think,
Because everybody wants it but nobody gives it.
We walk around demanding trust from each other,
But nobody really gives the benefit of the doubt to anyone else.
The ones that do end up cold and broken,
Singing sad songs in their cars on a drive going nowhere.
The thought of driving makes me dizzy now,
Because being able to feel something for the first time in months
Has made me not want to let go of the air lying still in my compressed lungs…
To feel the burning of desire for oxygen,
This internal battle reaching for the end,
Lungs squeezing tighter, suffocation…
Everything is so dark right now that it is beginning to look bright.
Funny how the lack of something you can’t live without makes you delusional.
When you’re so caught up in something that you could fix,
You forget how to fix it.
Like that my lungs know all I need to do is inhale,
But the lack of oxygen in my brain is confusing my entire body.
It almost feels good, being able to feel the pain.
Sometimes I think I deserve this…
This pain that is rushing through my veins at this very second.
Like it is my own fault,
And I feel I need to prove the capacity of my own breathing,
The ability to stop it if I want to.
And I know that if you have been following along,
You and I both need to breathe because your lungs are about to give up…
I finally exhale.
I take a large breath in,
And feel my heart rejoicing as blood pumps through rapidly,
My body’s way of thanking me for not ending it now…
Instantly, I’m crying.
Because I feel numb already.
Numbness is an interesting feeling,
Or lack thereof,
Because even though tears are leaving my eyes,
My nerves and emotions feel unsettlingly calm.
It feels like when I swim out far enough into the ocean that
The waves stop crashing on you and begin swaying underneath,
Moving you as you float on your back.
That moment of utter peace and confusion before a wave finally carries you back.
I’ve been floating out here for some time, now, though,
Waiting for my wave or my raft or even my shark,
To either save me or end me,
Because I am so sick of this emotionless limbo I am stuck in
Due to the fact that I have forgotten how to swim.
Out here, peaceful music plays,
And I forget about everything for a moment or a lifetime.
I think of all the things I have messed up.
But if there’s one thing I wish I could change,
It’s hurting you.
I’m feeling myself being slowly pulled back to shore,
By a figure who looks just like you…
Suddenly, I am remembering how to move my arms and legs,
You just stare at me, though,
You don’t try to help me and you don’t acknowledge my presence.
It seems as if you’ve been waiting to watch me drown.
I don’t have to wonder why you aren’t extending your hand for me.
I wouldn’t help me either.
Finally, a wave falls on top of me, spinning me in circles.
You seem so close, though,
Almost ready to pull me from this high tide.
Are you ready to pull me away from the ocean?
In yellow lamplight a boy is pulling a green knit sweater over
his head. It is winter, maybe late autumn. The branches are
bare and his room is cold. He is forcing his feet into a battered
pair of Converse with frayed dirty laces that he never unties.
On the stereo, Bob Dylan sings a song about a girl from Canada;
the boy, pushing his arms into the sleeves of a blue jacket far
too thin for the weather, dreams of the blondest girl he ever
knew and the way she waved goodbye. His footsteps echo
down the wooden staircase, follow him out the backdoor. The
cold stings his cheeks, makes itself tangible with each exhale,
his thighs turning pink through their layer of corduroy. With
his headphones on he doesn’t hear a sound, his pathway lit by
the lights from other houses. Television screens flickering in
the windows. The pond by the high school looks frozen over,
but he knows the layer is likely not thick enough to hold him.
He cuts across the dead of the Little League field, taking his
hand out of his pocket to run his fingers along the grooves of
the rusted out chain link fence. The weatherman has promised
snow, and the boy’s heart is bubbling with hope that the
schools will stay closed in the morning. He is thinking about
when he was little, digging out shelters in the snows banks
with his sister, and how in this tiny caverns he felt he could live
forever, anonymous and alone. He is thinking about what his
mother meant when she told him he was born old. A cat runs
down a driveway, a man walks his large black dog, a shivering
couple splits a cigarette on their front porch. The boys is
looking down the road, thinking about how no one is ever
there when you want them to be. He stops in front of her
house, jams his hands a little deeper into his pockets, looks up
at her bedroom. There she is, sitting at her desk, perfect
posture, reading from a hardback book with fairies dancing on
the cover. He pays attention to the hollow feeling of his chest,
hoping to excavate some kind of courage, some kind of
confirmation that fourteen years of life has amounted to this.
He imagines throwing a stone, but sighs instead, and turning
on his heels walks back home. Somewhere an airplane blinks
overhead, snowflakes making their first ominous descent into
the atmosphere. When he gets home the house is dark, his
parents gone to bed. In his room he empties his pocket of loose
change onto the top of his dresser, and sits down on his bed.
Hands clasped between his knees, he chews his lips, and takes
momentary joy at the feeling of sadness creeping into this
i've been having recurring dreams
of the beach
last night you were there too
lying in the shore, just me and you
the drink you poured all over me
missing the love we shared
but so you remind me, it was never there
loveless records play on repeat
so it was lust
wrapped in a gentle breeze
with each exhale we must
remember what we want to be
these words are growing tired and old
and my hands have gotten frigid and cold
this has been going on for far too long
replaying like some worn out song
the radio sings to me
these stupid songs they always repeat
i cannot wait to meet
the one to set me soaring free.