Perhaps they expect a pool
offerings of rare coffee
from Ethiopia

Instead of
a view of hydrangea
plus pale ale in mugs

Conversation entails
irrelevant niceties
of trivial events

Smiles exchanged
chairs rearranged
subtlety reigns

Another chance
to touch humanity
willfully aborted

Lets talk about etiquette..
And if its morally good if not heaven sent..
The standards of man is irrelevant..To a man of God..
Can't rule over me if it lacks Biblical relevance
No hats in church what's your scripture reference
I looked and couldn't find a trace of evidence
Doesn't mean  that God is in it.. just because it sounds intelligent
Sounds like a lack of truth..in your Bible study there is negligence
So in your mind I'm not a man if i don't represent what you represent.
I was raised by a woman...well the gift of both parents I didn't have death shook my past but  there's a new father in the present,..
This life he gave..I was saved are you saved...
Ruled by the standards of man makes you a slave..
Sad sight to see one embrace shackles and chains
A man name Jesus said to embrace change..
Father, Son, Holy spirit one in the same..
To choose the contrary over Gods teaching is to embrace flames..
And God doesn't send use to Hell we make the choice we are blame..
Let's talk about etiquette
It is morally good only if its heaven sent..
The standards of God has relevance..To a man of God its never irrelevant..
Only makes statements a pond the truth from Biblical reference..
If asked to give evidence..
It is given with love and Godly
intelligence
Hard to find reproach when the Bible is used contrary to 
negligence...
I cannot represent what you represent..
Despite not having both parents in the past I am  fine with Father God in the present..
His life he gave..
Represent being saved to live by God standards is what releases the  shackles and chains..
Its a beautiful thing when I think how Jesus releases the change.
The Father, the Son and the Holy spirit simple and plain..
To choose Gods teaching over mans is to escape the flames..
One choice to die for us then rise into eternal life Jesus is to blame..

always mindful
   not to love things

living so that they
   all could burn
and it would be nothing
   but an inconvenience

three objects
   have escaped my plan
maneuvered
   through my designs

1. old white macbook
   my beautiful
       smart
         well-designed
  whirring piece of brilliant technology
you are already gone. next.

2. wedding rings
  irrelevant
sold those motherfuckas in an instant

3. asian machine love
  i am having a hard time
having to let you go
  my beautiful, black mitsubishi.

i chose you.

i researched for weeks
  analyzing data
comparing machines
  prices
trying to be reasonable

and out of all the machines,
i.chose.you.

you are the perfect shape
  of all vehicle shapes, mitsubishi
i have a slight obsession with
   design
     lines
   c o l o r
      efficiency
speed
    and b  o  o  m  i  n  g SOUND

you are the perfect balance of safety
  including 4WD
and fuel efficiency
  (but you already knew that, didn't you?)

your headlights are so bright
  and your high beams
so magnificent
  it's almost embarrassing

mitsubishi, you little snake...
  you have a manual mode
so i can choose to be a race car driver
  whenever i want

mitsubishi outlander sport, i love you so

let's talk about your face
  you have a pig-face like me
your nose is abrupt
  it's blunt and it's different
and i love it

you know i hate the cold and the snow
  i love the sun and the moon
so you show them to me all the time
  moonroof, mitsubishi - brilliant
(with mood lighting for night? you dog!)

you wipe away the rain
  without me having to ask
you cast light into the dark
  all on your own
gps
  usb
subwoofer
  fockford fosgate
bluetooth

mitsubishi, you shake the earth
  alerting my family
that i am almost there
  blasting music
through my dna
  so that i am made
of vibrations and air
  invisible to the naked eye
or playing my science fiction audiobooks
  at a reasonable
and responsible volume

mitsubishi,
you respond to me with such grace
showing me impossibilities
with a rearview camera
saying, "hello!" in the morning
and, "see ya!" when i leave
(and i believe you mean it)

you heat my ass in the frigid winter
  an alert me with an icon
when i am losing traction
  or there may be ice
i could not ask for more, my machine love.

the deer was not your fault.
or mine, or the deer's.
  we were all doing what we do,
and to be quite honest,
  the deer got the shit end of the stick, mitsubishi.
i'm sorry about your dent and your crack
  i wanted to fix it, but i love you even more now

you are my one machine love
  with power
combustion
  and pistons
you are electric
  intelligent
and you boom
  sleek
comfortable
  well designed

i don't want to see you burn.
it would be more than an inconvenience.

two out of three things are gone.

but i chose you. i want you still.

my home is gone - fine.
my things are gone - fine.
that bastard is gone - fine.
my job is gone, mitsubishi.
  i am being stripped bare.

i am being humbled, mitsubishi.

i have to let you go.

but i'm not ready,
my asian machine love.

The first time...I disgustingly recall.
Oh, it was sore and achy, overall
But the force was so weak
Left no nasty mark on my cheek
Although my mind was worn out and tired and bleak

I had said one too many words
He snapped, the sensation was all a blur
I looked up, tears in my eyes
"I deserved it" I silently decide
And waited for the choking memory to subside

Gray and hazy and spiteful and loud
"You lazy bastard, I hope you're fucking proud"
So I make an escape plan on my own tonight
I get stabbed when I muster strength to fight
Don't bother... I'm just an irrelevant plight.

Irrelevant are the revelries
that cast themselves upon me often.
Like beaten and weathered souls
we walk amongst the dead, whilst living.
Blackened hearts; unwilling, yet copacetic.
Life has come routine and bland.
The cold, and dampened sound
of another numbing day in and out;
only livened by the thought of you.
A pure and shimmering light
that echoes through the mundane.
Screaming out for me to be the change I dream.
How is it we hear each other; so far off shore?
Come drift into my widened pupils and remind me of who I once was.
Innocent and genuine.
Setting fire to my every fiber, this magnetic masquerade must end.
I feel I am made for something more when I am standing in your warmth.
So would you remind me of who I am, before the sunsets again?
And would you free me from the currents, that have long since been sweeping me out into darkness?

He wields his hammer
   without mercy
bring
the
metal
d
o
w
n
time and space
    e  x  p  a  n  d  i  n  g
crushing metal to earth
         to vibration to sound

my head snaps to the left
         vibration through earth
                through atom through drum
a fire ignites...a fire BURNS...a fire smolders
nostrils flare
  apertures contract straining to focus
      heart valves pump unnaturally
         oxygen is scarce
knees weaken
and i  s
             i
               n
                  k
arms of steel
     guide my hips...
(keep breathing)
strands of gold
     brush my neck
(open your eyes)
kisses so light
  turn to a force of nature
(by the forgotten gods,
              you are beautiful)
teeth playfully snap
    eyes shine
(breathe, woman, breathe)

our neurons are mirrored
   our pheromones agree
now comply...surrender...submit

your cape is irrelevant
  the crimson does not impress me
you do not need it to take flight

your armor is useless
  i can pierce it simply
with a look from my blue eyes

what of your hammer, Thor?
it is all of what you are;
heavy with burden
  spinning and light with hope
crushing the earth with music
raised high to lead
          with a steady hand
hailing a booming storm
    light electrifying

be assured - your hammer is your own
i do not desire to take what is yours
    to smother your light
         to limit your branches

i only wish to see you grow in strength
  in beauty
       in music
            in light

and so i will wait...
for the thunder of the hammer
   crushing the ground
calling me home.

just living
is a rebellion
the singing and the screaming
collide into one
each day
I work for someone
who I do not know
I give them money every day
because we all have to pay
for just living
the composer turns his hand
he asks for us to stand
and we do
as the sitter is exiled
and the new rules are filed
we look to the stars
a world in denial
to freedom
who’s your father
beg for martyrs
because we all
do nothing
at all
like hermits in a shell
inside the cage
we walk the streets
and work the wage
circles of beings
and tireless days of occurrences
with brand new acquaintances
living just the way
they were yesterday
giving everything
to someone above us
equality irrelevant
I don’t like the smell of it
something’s gone cold
we all grow old
let us all blossom the way we desire
be the pet’s owner
that sets the pet free
look in the eyes
of a soul
and let it be
we will surely be thankful
for all the degrees
a smile and laughter
will come from beneath
take off your role
throw in your sheets
uncover your lost soul
find what you need
powerless fusion of hope
grind your teeth down
do what you please
no stress over spilt milk
we are the meek
don’t open your mouth
simply to speak
say something worthwhile
or silence indeed
waking on pillows
justice to sleep
with a head so heavy
that it is light
and a dance so quick
that it goes something like
rapid melodies drifting
into a time
a time that is new
something that’s right
with wishful thinking
you gain delight
but think or think not
I know what I don’t want to know
it fairs me well
while you fancy the rest
the drill is in the ground
just close your eyes
don’t make a sound
give out a smile
come hang around
because just living
is a rebellion
each day
I work for someone
I don’t even know
I still walk with my feet
for now
even though

Your mind is a wonderful place
To reside in
Often times
We imagine
Beautiful things
That are only capable
Of existing within
The boundaries of
Our imagination

We find ourselves
Encompassed in the daily
Building of sandcastles in the air
Where dreams are
A better place to be in
Than reality

Sometimes
We are compelled to
Reach out and grasp
A pen
To ink out our fantasies
The different people
We often wish to be
Yet we find ourselves
Hindered in doing so
When we realise
That realism is what
The world needs
They don't need
Our childish endeavors
Or our irrelevant thoughts

At the end of the day
We are hit
With the inevitable
Loneliness that eventually
Sets in
We lose all drive and passion
Whilst conforming
To the limitations set
By the world
We become slaves to
The system
Having the same
Pattern of ideas
Repeating themselves
over
and over
and over
again
We become one person
Eventually losing our identity

Your mind is a beautiful place to reside in
But I'm afraid
You have lost it
To the world.

We all want to be worth something;
know we won’t become just nothing.
The fear of death is irrelevant,
and in our angst we become petulant
children looking for hope in a sea
of greed and selfish humanity.