Hidden to all.
What was going on?
It’s anyone’s call.

As the somniferous air sets in
Like an ocean of sea glass;
The flowing tide echoing through my mind.

A dream of newfound waters
Surfacing like a long lost memory,
Calling forth from the autumn breeze.

Like gemstones in the rain,
I’m free to bleed out the colors.
The desire to leave an empty shell
Overpowered by a desire for vitality.

Through smoke, Smog,
And smoldering ashes,
I’ll see this to the end.

Iridescent falls,
An ocean of flying fish.
Behind the charred walls,
Lies life’s perfect dish.

Place the bets
Run the cards
Jack of hearts?
No,
You’re just the joker.

Face card?
No,
It’s all a facade.

living freely,
Yet chained to the game,
Life’s got my soul; my flame.
I’ve long since lost my name.

A violent struggle for air,
Lasts like a star’s radiant flare.
As the void turns to ashes,
Breath resumes control;
A frozen silencer thawed dry.

The fruit is to the earth
As is the fruit to the forbidden
I came alive from the tree,
The grace was but to flee.
The truly unforgivable one

Is me.

I became what I ate
And I am now forbidden
And forsaken.

Sitting,
An article of stagnance,
With a heavily dusted window,
And a soul in heavy fragments.
Looking at you through the glass,
Wondering what has come to pass.
I’ve been here forever,
But nobody stays forever.
Now forever feels like home,
And I’ve turned up alone
After you vanished from my head
And filled my mind with lead.

Stone upon stone,
Laying down the bricks
For a worldwide collapse.

Tear at the membrane,
Nothing can stop you now.
Why limit yourself?
Nobody watches you
When it matters most,
So rise.

Walls are built to be broken,
So let your heart become molten;
The time has come to be awoken.

As the creeping doubt
Draws shadows of trees
Onto my mind’s canvas,
I silently look away,
Wishing the water’s reflection
Could distract me.

Rippling across the surface;
Distorting what I see.
The inkwell’s matte mirror
Changing what I’m to be.

START

FORCE STOP [PROGRAM]

END
//(read the notes)

When I threw out my hand,
And everyone else pulled theirs,
You stayed open
And grabbed onto mine.
Through dawn and dusk,
Through wind and time,
You held on,
Without question,
Without a faltering will.

Through the glacial mountains
And the phantasmic ravines,
Your hand gave mine warmth,
And I held on,
No longer wanting to let go.

For those who held on
Even when I screamed
To let go,
I thank you for your hands
And giving me a reason
To hold my life close.

You can do little to none
For a poet in distress.
Left to their own devices,
They’ll write their way out
Using beautiful words.

If you truly desire to help,
You can keep their inkwell full.

The darkness holds me tightly,
Wrapping me within
Its—mine—our sin.

I see it shifting in the corner,
The forlorn spectral shade
Slipping through the thin fabric
Of my weak perception.

Embracing my body,
Living in my soul;
The shadow lies dormant,
With it I feel whole.

I’m the whisper
Among the piercing scream;
The subtle vertigo
Of an early morning dream.

I’m the darkest burning star;
Your wandering mind
When you’ve gone too far.

I’m the voice you could not hear;
The voice you should not fear.
Advice that most abhor,
Given with an air of valor.

Don’t follow my whispered suggestions,
All it becomes is bad recollections.

Coldly bleak blackened walls
Housing a discreet warmth.
Within such listless halls,
We find the stars alight.
Dwelling inside the void
Like an innocent blight,
You stand, full of spirit.
Fragmenting listlessness,
For only void hears it

Clear and transparent before me,
Lying calmly and silently.
The dawn rises behind the horizon,
The moon, once gone,
Now over the silver land.
Electrified emotions
Left to stimulate a dim moonlight.

Silently bearing its teeth,
My emotions pounce onto me.
Nothing’s to happen,
But the morrow is unnerving.
My mind sprouts fantasies
Like the spring grows dandelions.
Soon the flowers change
And I’ll whisp away with the wind.
Soon the bees will come
And sting my body numb.

The depths of consciousness,
Pierced by the needle
Of everlasting imagination.

Childish whims
And vehement tranquility
Continually surround
This world of purity.

Feb.2019

I am a leaf
Flimsy and death bound,
Waiting for the grief
When i float to the ground.
I am a fallen life
Brittle and soon to die,
The cold stabs with its knife.
The wind makes me fly
It shoves me through the air
With it’s taunts that get me to weep
Eventually i will tear
And go to an endless sleep
Another leaf broken
Because it was left open

Daunting voices call my name;
Each breath full of manic mirth.

The sunlight falls
Like distant snowflakes,
Dusting a golden plain
With an auburn hue.

As the sky grows dark,
I see less and less,
But hear more and more.

A crescent guillotine hangs in the sky
As I absentmindedly envision
These fruitful moments to be my last.

The mirthful voices once more,
And engulf me in their mania.
My head hits the floor
While my consciousness washes away;
As if it were an eternal shore.

Stop.
Right.
There.
If I’m getting involved,
Give me a reason to care.

I can help with matters
Pertaining to your mind,
But I am not so kind
All of the time.

Shimmering silence
Blooms over the desolate horizon,
Beckoning my fragile soul.

As the sun begins to fade,
Letting the darkness inch closer,
I’m still standing still;
Lost...

However, now I’m worlds away
With nobody around.

The thunder of gods
Hitting like a stone,
Yet fragmenting
Like hollow glass;
An insufferable impact
Followed by a spectral radiance
Of the refractive prisms
Which now litter
Our wandering minds.

Shielded in a titanium cell,
living in a serene state of solitude.
The cold world wouldn't harm,
but the cold cage did.

Beaten with insults,
scarred with fists.
Living an infernal life,
so I built an immaculate chamber.

A cell thought to be without flaw.
Frozen solid, but slowly shattering.
Only a warm heart could thaw,
and now mine's fluttering.

As ink is left to fall,
Another paper
Is left to stain.

As my veins
Decide the path
Of my blood,
The ink in my pen
Decides the stain
Upon this paper.

It is always the walls
that come crashing down
to suspend a new dawn.

Built to illuminate power
and show integrity,
but where does integrity lie
in a structure soon to die?

Yet it is the bridges
that hold a higher power
than mere stone walls can shower.

Bridges are never blown
for a new empire to be grown,
but bridges are commonly built
to support an empire's tang and hilt.

Dec.29.2019

Up and down and up again,
my stable position changes at the drop of a pen.
I have not an idea of where I am going,
and I am quickly forgetting where I've been.
My bike keeps ruggedly flowing
over stumps and bumps
and branches and roots.

Up hills far to steep to ride,
down some that could make me scream,
sacrificing my little pride.

reaching escape velocity,
I shoot out of my comfort zone,
like a shuttle breaks into orbit,
I am the opposite of smooth...

Bumping over rocks and branches,
fast enough to immobilize me.
But I ride, petrified but not rigid,
over these rugged trails.

My knuckles wrap around my handlebars,
turning a ghoulish pearly white,
but it was a hidden by my ebony gloves.

I might as well be twisted,
but I wholly believe
that the fun part
was my stone cold fear.

All I see are lies.
In your eyes?
Glimmering reflections…
Dancing like the winter’s edge.
Reflected in my eyes.
And twisted by your vision.
We can never agree.
You’re never truly free

Embracing the colors
As they spin off the spiral,
Reaching out to touch my desires
And bring each little spectrum
Onto my monochromatic planet.

Spinning through my world
Like a brilliant top atop a table.
The spiral brings a blinding light
And preaches words of color like a fable.

A system for the we
Of our diligent society.
But you cannot spell
This dangerous ism
Without the prefix
UNI
Or in the mouth
Of the common man:
MYSELF, I, ONE.

Slowly slipping as of late.
Im falling into a pit of hate,
My mind’s becoming irate.
I reluctantly anticipate
That I’m soon to suffocate,
Under the water that’ll inflate
And call an end to my fate.

What would you have thought?
I was fine all day to your knowledge.
All you heard was
“it’s been especially rough today.”

Would you have been shocked?
Sometimes i regret my choices.

Would it have been better for her if I didn’t turn around and step back in?
Would it have been better for you?

Decompression overwhelms
Concrete mentalities,
Shattering them
Like false glass.

Heavy is the head
That dawns the crown;
An anchor of lead,
Pulling us down.

Underneath
What I am;
What I was,
I burst out of the shell,
Burning to shred.
Smoldering paper
Is all that remains.

Burn it all,
The thought doesn’t count.
Burn it all,
It shouldn’t survive.
Burn it all,
Just save me from my memories.

I’m sitting in a nowhere,
No life, no sense of flair.

Life bustles all around,
But it’s all a monotone mound,
There’s no variation to be found.

New places,
New spaces,
And new paces
Is the basis
For a mind in stasis.

So i might stop this mope,
And put a wayward hope
Into a little elope.

Betwixt these sheets,
I lie, ablaze.
In this blanket maze,
I run, deathless.
Hidden in vulnerable darkness,
I protect, ardently.
On my stomach, lying low,
I regret, somberly so.

I am by no means omnipotent,
So the meta-thoughts I have
About the couples on this day
Are quite biased.

I have to wonder
What these people are thinking
When vigorously presenting their love
Without even a shred of conscience
Or shame.

Like a sopping wet leaf,
Floats in the northern oceans,
As if it is a single drop of blood
In an autumn wheat field,
The echoes of reality reach deaf ears
As the final leaf falls,
Silently,
From its hibernating host.

Imperfection is everything.
Nothing is immaculate,
nothing is fail-safe,
some fool is always dumber
than you are smart,
so nothing is fool-proof.

In some cases,
you are finding the drop of mud
on the silvery crystalline ocean.
That is good enough,
don't hurt yourself
by yearning for more.

Crawling through the wastes,
I wish for the flame.
To fly above the rest
To have nothing but a name.
My hope and interest
have kept this dream alive
And allow me to thrive
Even in these darkest moments.

Icy lakes
Freezing until tame.
Ashen snowflakes
Glimmering in flame.

Steadfast ice,
Atmospheric lights.
Blocks frozen twice
Into towering heights.

Aqueous infernos
Casting a flaming rapid.
A burning soul grows
A seed so trepid.

Water to grow the ice,
And quench the inferno.
The aqueous paradise,
Sitting among this rapid flow

An ancient dragon’s horn
Summons me to existence.
Bringing with me a veil of life;
A vernal, radiant blossom,
Gracing the earth with your kindness.
I protect the golden ichor
Streaming from his wounds.
Your blood shines with brilliance,
Flowing freely in self-propagation.
Emanating this amber veil of life;
An autumnal, iridescent flame;
A blossom in its own right.

Growing from your body
This single flower stands.
A gentle volley of wind,
Guiding my unsure hands.
A love formed of simple bliss…
Is my protection your stoic iris?

I once had a phone...
it was an IPhone 6.
Worthless to many,
but to me,
nothing
could have bought
that bank of emotion.

To part with it was
to part with some of me.
I am in no way a phone addict,
it just was full of precious bytes,
these 64 billion bytes described me.

The vehement texts, sent with wet eyes.
The entertaining games, played frequently.
The photos of friends and places held dear.
The contact of whom I am too shy to speak to.

And most importantly,
yet saddest of all...

the thousands of poems.
The stories of my doubtless fury,
my love for the pocket knife,
the yearn for another ****** line,
the sadness of another failed day,
the crushing expectations,
and the love I still feel.

The stories that pulled me from depression,
the stories that listened when nobody else would,
the stories that only I will ever have seen.

Even though it's fried silicon chip works no more,
I keep it still, not willing to let go.
So many things, lost forever,
all these things only I am to ever know.

When you gaze into
The darkness inside your soul,
It stares back in you.

Do we really know
Where our soul shall go
After we decide to die,
And let our phantasm fly?

Or do we cry
After another futile try?
And do those who pass us by
Suffer through the same lie?

Like the sun
Blazing through the sky,
A master swords
Cleaves the fallen knight,
Bringing forth
The golden sunrise
Of a gilded age

A jolly, corpulent man, taller than high tide.
He hosts lavish parties for all, sparing no pence.
Living in front of media, nothing to hide.
Donates to charities in all his benevolence
He loves the people in his honest mind,
and the people love him, but they are blind...

Inside the saint lies an angry diamond;
Discretely rattling if one gets too close.
It’s venomous fangs puncture the media,
Infecting them at their already corrupt core.
Preying on the blind defenseless mice,
Robbing them of their “truly pitiful” life.
It puts it’s catch into blackbox charities,
They cycle it back with a tainted clarity.

The diamond holed it’s way into
This jolly saint of a man.
The deviant sunk it’s fangs into his flesh,
Infecting him with a truly visceral avarice.

All the bullets that hit the man
Were meant for the slimy scaly *******.
But the devious diamond deftly dodged...
And the man was broken forever.

All because the man was but a vicarious vessel
Of the snake’s diligently destructive divinity.

If I’m lost,
Then my past guides me.
The shadows of myself
That drag behind, free.

Following me
Out of our own volition,
I hope I may soon see
The beacon that envelopes thee.

The darkness by my side
Will dissipate into the light,
And I’ll traverse the night
with its absence at my right.

I keep it all in;
Let the spiders crawl
Throughout my skin,
And spin their webs
In my soul’s
Numerous holes.

Living in desperation, looking for a
Silver sliver of golden hope;
A contradictory existence I shall never find.

I just want to love and love,
Is that too much to ask?