hello four hello four

communicate to me more and more,

close to my deepness ,


the fish dives deep to find me ,


its colors,


its movements…

tell me a message,


you think about me,


you nurture me,


idk how to tell you i heard it i accept it…..


Fish so close yet so far ,


swimming in my emotions swimming in all vulnerable scars

you gave me the power to write this
granting all possible stars ,


you have that ability fish ,


idk how to tell you be warm when you cold,


ill do it myself if i can reach ,

idk how to tell you feel better in better ways,

I make no sense writing this,

but life sometimes doesnt have to,

its all memories written by me,

written by you,  

dancing within time,

forever engulfed through internity forever safe with no fishing lines,


  swimming in water

swimming in fire

listen to the ripples inspire

swim low, swim higher

  like a whale like a dolphin like you desire


love how you heard me

love how I heard you,


idk how to say thanks idk how to say i really appreciate you…..      


i dont speak fish….

but ill consistently try…here!
enjoy a fish fillet!

i know thats incredibily racist,
but i rather turn this outrageous,
don’t worry you’re always close to
me even though we’re in different places.

I hope you go where you wanted to go and find the peace and freedom you seek.
.
.
The mind is meek.
.
.
One speaks,
.
.
so that all can conceive.
.
.
.
These are rough times where the paradox be.
.
.
the separate-self finds others who are separate and share in that so called “wealth”.
.
.
.
Not you.
.
.
.
Not I.
.
.
I remember the times.
.
and yet we are content alone.
.
.
He and she had no archetype they just play the role of one when their vibrations were low.
.
.
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He saw her like no other, .
.
.
.
Like the divine mother.
.
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as if it was just him and her existing in this universe of contradiction and all it’s grandeurest moderation, they went against the currents and all that discourages transmigration.
.
.
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I’ve watched you from a far and I miss every moment of it.
.
.
Guess I wasn’t raised to be civic,
.
.
We need no image just to help paint the image for others.
.
.
We’re just here,
.
.
and you take what you want from it.
.
.
I hope your in peace and find your brothers and sisters like you always told me you wanted to do.
.
.
Our duty,
.
.
to express words and not take anything too seriously.
.
.
I hope you’re happy together and can see how much you were loved.
.
.
.
Loved even by those who have never met you.
.
.
Maybe one day we’ll see each other again.
.
.
For in this life I will give everything I have, just for the purpose of giving.
.
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Our thoughts are like vehicles in the desert.
.
.
We do not know where they came from or why,
.
.
it just needs a discerning eye.
.
.
.
If you find yourself in the dark, I’ll send you light and love to help you find your way.
.
.
Doves fly away above us, as we are bored of its reoccurrence. .
.
Is it strange that we seem content to others and yet our emotions are stuck by these under currents?
.
.
Do not get lost by a person’s surface...
.
.
.

Get lost with the wanderlust of their deepness.
.
.
If I die,
:
please tell my children I’m still alive.
.
Speaking through a person.
.
Speaking through a poem.
.
Involved in their ‘knowing.’

Poetry as a painting.
Far from lazy.
Understanding each day.
My aura is like an ultra violet ray.
My flow never leaves.
Even in below zero degrees
I will no longer freeze.
Volcanic activities
triggered by a small breeze.
I confess I spoke to spirits
broke my fingers when I wrote those lyrics
Then passed out on a boat in Venice
. The Wireless is now off.
Talk.
Feels like I ain't got no pulse.
The camera caught me channelling in thought but it's not my fault. 
Dead tones in the ocean.
Nuclear implosion.
They gave me the job out of no where.
Writing carbon monoxide poems.
A prophet helping those find their own....

In moments past

the eyes that wander

get lost 

in this forest of thorns

It requires great focus to move across.

The standstill when you move it's gone.

Zero degrees.

Pause in my craft

I constantly try.

The standstill

brings tears to your eyes

I've escaped inertia

it hurts to converse with ya.

It's all too real

I wish to return to sleep

but I'm too conscious to leave .
  
Frogs proceed
as it cuts my throat and bleeds

  the world LOVES YOU so selfishly

too selfish to see.

How is it to be?

        To constantly view a sequence of 3

Mind soul and body.

(333)

Poetic symphonies
View this tyranny
Tearing my book of rhymes to pieces.

     The  deep-ness

techniques of ' IT ".  

From it.
Of it.
I am IT
because I know it
I show it.
  Reading up On Agrippa
I hold a tight grip when i rip the fabric of another lizard.
The soul is Measured daily on a scale.
Will it weighs less than a feather quill?
The truth not the REAL.
I'm thankful for what inspires me
bodies deteriorating from society
I dare someone to define me.
Because of the Latin alphabetum
these words just keep settling in

and Athena well,  Lets just be friends....

Engulfed by light /
eyes open wide/
my pupil turns white/
  it’s nothing to stand in the impenetrable heat. /
The sun stands before you/
with all of your turmoils  /
your mind is my glory hole !/
The powerful gust from a huge fan i trust/
was disguised as an infinite beam as it lifts me/
dematerialize the old grains of me/
The wind spreads her love unconditionally
/DESERT JASPER /
what morals are you after?
In the face of sadism
the expression of laughter.

living in the arctic
.
away from civilization
.
it makes one immune to the cold
.
what is cold to a warm hand
.
that gives life to those too numb to stand?
.
.
it is just my environment
.
.
disarmed by peaceful defiance
.
.
.
there’s no explanation for it
.
or for me
.
.
.
you may write your story with thought
.
.
.
.
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you may steal the glory and not get caught
.
.
.
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i’ll be here into my work
.
.
God’s wisdom
.
.
there's so many names and metaphors for it
.
.
.
.
oh how the mind is a craftsman
.
.
.
a carpenter.
.
.
this work is my cabinet 
.
.
to build within the cold
.
.
.
helping those who wish
.
.
who desire to know
.
.
.
listening to a cold soul
.
.
I offer the null, (the now)
.
.
.
i offer the null (the now).
.
.
blizzards cannot be felt by the heart’s inferno
.
.
.
melt snow
.
.
.
melt it slow
.
.
.
.
with love that’s eternal
.
.
a fire core
.
with two pillars
of strong wind
.
.
when they find me complete
I feel defeated
.
.
because that type of thinking is cheating
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
thinking too ahead
.
.
.
.
thinking you’re done with it all
.
.
thinking you're done with knowing everything about me
.
.
.
.
victory is when you make someone else feel great
on their own
.
.
.
.
shhh.....let it be their own idea
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
in secret
.
.
.
.
.
.
without substances
.
.
.
.
without your help
.
.
.
.
.
.
by watching them complete themselves
.
.
.
.
.
Away from sugar
.
.
Away from contemplation
.
.
Away from justification
.
.
.
.
And let them get high off who they are!
.
.
.
ever met yourself sober?
.
.
and drunk off your own ambition?
.
.
.
As it gets better when you're older
.
.
.
Giving up a fix is like starting a business
.
.
.
.
.
because the customer service
may give off a cold ominous feeling
.
.
.
yet
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
you’re humbled.
.
.
disarming walls with no reason
.
.
.
.
as if you’re alone with GOD
.
.
.
and
.
.
.
.
.
  feeling abundant with nothing
or no one there JUST GOD

.
.
.
.
.
.
you may only feel the air
.
but there's still something to share
.
in the cold there’s no despair
.
.
it’s our endurance
.
.
our adaptability
.
.
that doesn’t compare
.
.
Feel The Atmosphere
.
.
.
surprising yourself
.
.
.
realizing yourself
.
.
You are here
.
.
  you were there.

Observe.
Think .
Create.
Meditate.  
Don't feel intimidated.
Fear is what you keeps waiting.
Expression turns to vibration.
Thus Fear is a stimulation.
Painted the ceiling
to view unconscious feelings.
Your words present perishable meanings.  
Wrote this quickly without thinking,
spoke to you without taking a deep breath
there's no time left.
        Understand depression
is the focus on hopeless motives.
Progression is the negativity
transformed into this art form for all of us.
**** being deep.
One try. One love. One lie. One liar or lyric?
As these spirits watch me.
This parable mocks me.
The first joke contained the essence of truth.
We are jokes that are laughed at.
Move closer to your world my friends.  
Third density binding.
I cannot describe it.
Everyday we develop rust.
You can never be the best
unless you can complete the competency test
of contrairy opposites.
Betrayer moon
color blue
the body has no use
if the mind is enslaved
but you still have to choose
sometimes not choosing is a choice
the Sagittarius has a powerful voice.
We must train to increase our strength
the final test is presented
when we least expect.
We eye ball
but see nothing
so what's next?  
A new generation of martyrs
dying for the wrong purpose.
I'm mad they can't prove what their worth.
Decisions shapes destiny.
This psychical attraction
distracted
they just want to hear me
to relax em.

So come along
pathetic poetic marathons
head warrior Sargon
came to spar
searching for who you are
answers for Darwin.
He kept us starving
stuck on a bias
the world cannot apply it.
I don't think one knows
how to change the future so fluently
look at what you do to me. (Writing)
Who can mirror me?
Confused with every theory.
Is pleasure really the highest good?
But.
If the thought is there
then it's a
physical trait to the universe
and your fate.
Constant change.
The mind resets each day.
Each minute.
Each second    
The memory helps protect it.
Nobody can **** with you
because you're YOU
just remember you're YOU
Sustain.
**** my name
its all about details
so see it's wrong
when he wins and she fails.
See what I see.
I know you seek perfection.
Eyes greet and meet to
the unconditioned mind.
These age dependent thinkers
call me weird for being myself.
Scientifically you're not in my realm. (Time)
For I wrote this in the present
which is
your past
but you call it the future.
The most influential
get turned into a joke
as the fake get their story told.

OPINIONS is what causes a mess...
.
.
then more opinions attempt to clean up the mess..
.
.
as it doesn't clean ****
.
it only creates another problem...
.
.
As truth with no opinions
.
gets silenced and gets one killed...
.
.
.
The wolf in sheep's clothing
.
.
their facade of TRUTH
.
which is really opinion.
.
it's nothing new
.
.
.
They appointed the anti-christ daily...
.
.
.
as one cannot grasp the realm of incredibility.
.
These morons truly hate me.