I'm not the man who met his dreams
with weary eyes and thoughts of grey.
The man who opened his eyes this morn'
is not the man from yesterday.

We live our lives encased in stone.
etching our names through woe and fear,
deaf by chisels wo scratch and slice
the only truth we need to hear.

Every day's a different path,
one you've never tread before;
every sunrise, wonders anew,
with stranger songs and open doors.

The only chain around your neck
is made of links you forge each night,
but with new eyes,
who crave delight,
perhaps dawn offers a different sight.

I am not alone
and neither are
you.
Feeling sad or angry?
Feeling lost.
This is for you.



(Tackles and hugs)

Now smile please

:D

Once again,
once again,
I fly away to Neverland
but this time I'm not the only one pretending to be Peter Pan.
Once again
as I ascend
I see a soul that hates a life seemingly driven to just unbend.

Songs behind bars are worth more than songs behind altars
and feet stumbling forward will not learn unless they falter.
A tripping to the dirt will teach us all to fly away.
You deserve to fly as much as anyone
and if you close your eyes and sing the song that made you free
I promise the sky will truly be the limit.

I am a ghost who loves the stumbling and you are a soul who braces for rumbling
but if I gave you a flower at midnight will you promise to stop the crumbling...?
At least for a moment...

If I could be the reflection in your mirror
for a minute or two,
I'd make you see the loveliness in you.

Unfortunately I am just a boy so I guess I'll just throw paper airplane compliments in the hope you catch them before it starts to rain.

Don't let your chin point toward the ground,
don't let the tears cause you to drown...
Just turn a grimace upside down
and let that smile become a crown,

because it fits your head perfectly...

Once again,
once again.
I am watching the twinkling in Neverland
with my toes digging softly into the sand.
Once again,
but with a friend,
I'm sailing the waves beyond this land,
and perhaps for a night we both can pretend to be
Peter Pan..

A boy was walking alone in the woods weeping softly when he sat down on the stump of a long dead tree between a vast field and a lonely lake. The boy sat and wept for a good while before his sounds attracted the attention of an old shaggy dog that happened to be chasing rabbits in the field. The dog trotted up to the boy and asked, “Why do cry in such a way child? What bothers you so?”

The child wiped away his tears and blew his nose before answering. “My father hates me! He yells at me for everything, even when I try to help him! He must wish that I was gone, so I just ran away.”

The dog sat down next to him and asked, “What happened to spur your decision to run away today? What did he yell at you for?”

The boy seemed to remember the incident freshly and became angry once more before puffing his chest and ranting, “It is very cold this winter and our house must stay heated constantly, so my father is always cutting wood. I do not like being so small and I want to become big and strong so I asked my father if I could go to the log pile and split some wood for the fire. My father told me no and to stay away from the wood pile. But I do not like that he is constantly telling me what I cannot do! I wanted to help, so when he wasn’t looking, I went to the pile and I started to split a log. My father came out and screamed at me to get back inside right away. I ran back and received a lashing and he yelled at me once more and told me that I must listen to what he says. I began to cry and I yelled at him before I ran away and kept running. I do not mean to return.”

The boy finished talking and began to cry once more. The dog quietly stared at him and let him regain his composure before speaking.

“Child, you must understand that even though your father may yell at you and may punish you, this does not mean he loves you any less.”

The boy interrupted and shouted, “He does not love me, and he wishes I was gone! If he loved me, he would not treat me so!”

The dog immediately jumped on the boy and licked his face.

“Child there are things you do not yet understand and even though your father may tell you certain things that you disagree with, there is always a reason behind his words. He asked you not to split the wood and you disobeyed. For this reason he punished you. This does not mean he wants you to leave, this means he wants you to follow his words. When you are older, you will understand.”

The child grumbled and said, “I would not yell at someone like that. I would let them do whatever they want.”

The dog smiled and licked the boys face once more. “One day you will understand. Go back home child. You are beginning to get cold and darkness is coming soon. Your father loves you and if you do not return soon, he will be up all night searching for you.”

The dog turned around and headed back to the field. He stopped for a moment and turned around once more and looked at the red faced child once more.

“Remember this; there is always reason and truth when there is love and kindness within the heart.”

With those last words, the dog barked once and vanished into the field.

The boy sat on the stump for only a little while more, still brewing on his bitterness and the words of the dog playing behind his anger, before he stood up and slowly trudged home.

The boy eventually made it home when the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. He still had anger in his heart and meant to confront his father once more and demand better treatment. The boy looked over at the wood pile and immediately froze in his tracks. His father was standing over the pile with the bodies of three dead rattlesnakes hanging over his axe. The father looked up his son. The eyes of the child filled with tears before running to his father and embracing him while the old shaggy dog playfully chased rabbits in the field.

I have always told myself, if by chance one day I decided to say "**** it" and speed up up the slow process of death, the last sound I would long to hear would be the breathtaking notes of beethovens moonlight sonata.

In all my years of open ears, I still have never found so beautiful a mixture of musical notes.
The sad piano keys have always tore at my heart in ways I can never fully understand, but it never made me sad. In fact, it did the opposite. It made me feel so... alive.
I could feel my heart beating and my mind swirling at the emotion flowing from centuries ago. What beauty it had brought...
If i were to choose my own method of demise, then would it not make sense to choose the one piece of music that made me feel alive one last time.

You want to breathe my shadow?
You want to feel my rage?
You want to see me howl and roar like phantom wolves inside a cage?


They throw my body in cell,
I bare my teeth and grin.
They leave me where I tripped and fell but I remember
every
sin...
My eyes,
they stare,
my face is calm...
But creatures stir inside my veins...

If I let go of all control,
the fire of hell would swallow me whole.

What's this...?

But you my dear...
you wish to see,
the darkest parts I hide in me...
I find it strange,
I can't explain,
you choose to never turn and run.
You touch my lips and gently kiss
what burns like violence from the sun...

Well if you insist...

Show me your anger. Show me your rage.
Open my body,
page by page...
Give me wounds inside this cage.

Roar with my fear,
moan in my ear,
scream with me,
perhaps we'll see...
why your demons play so well with me...

Anni fa, ti ** scritto una poesia d'amore.
Occhi nebbiosa e luminoso, mi hai sorriso.
Ma negli abissi del profondo
la mia coscienza mi ha urlato.
Sa che abbiate mai svanire proprio come il resto
perché sono un casino maledetto dio.

I woke with a sleepy start to find the devil standing over my bed.
I screamed in alarm and punched that ******* in the head.

He frowned then said he was feeing lonely
with a sad little shrug
So I laughed and gave him a big bear hug.

Then God sent me to hell for being nice

0_0

I am playing with fire,
because apparently I haven't learned.
I'm playing with fire,
and I am not the one who will get burned.

There is more to words than pouting words from a boy or girl that broke your poor little heart.

Look in the history of man and find what you need. Instead of what you want.

Seriously.
Stop.

Puzzle pieces are spread throughout the floor when more keep falling through the door.
The pieces are frayed by creatures who made an effort in keeping confusion a lord.
I'm struggling to fit the pieces together but always and never I come to an edge where nothing comes further, and falls off the ledge...

I need to stop and breath in peace because my nerves bring such unease when I'm looking in your eyes so bright I just want to keep them full of light....

You are stronger than this.

A door was opened a long time ago and it stood there for many years waiting for someone to cross the threshold.
No one dared to walk through.
We all stared in fear at it and talked amongst ourselves, wondering what could wait on the other side.
The door just sat there gathering dust and age gnawed away.

I believe in you.

We heard a whispering on the other side and always questioned the words.
They never were loud enough to startle us but they were not quiet enough to put us to sleep.
We still stood in fear at what could be waiting for us.

I understand why you hide, I understand why you cry.

I watched a man run out of the darkness one day.
He leaped through the door and fell a thousand stories.
I never heard him hit the ground and so I took a step closer.
Then I took another.
I heard someone take a step behind me.

One day You will understand and you will step into the sunlight.

I started running and I leapt through the door.
Now I am falling through the sky and it is so beautiful.
The stars are guiding me along...


You are beautiful. Remember that.

Sit beside me for a moment and tell me what makes you feel like a snowstorm in summer.

I want to feel your pain then break its neck.
Let's run away on highways made of clouds hand in hand.

Come here. Let me feel your skin. Let me me hear you breathe. Let me see you grin with hidden plans.



I want to listen to your body roar.

The world is a joke and I am the punchline.
Let the rhythm fill your senses and waltz in time like a pantomime.
Puppets have no need of string and most will even dance and sing!
For who believes such
SILLY things
as string, yes string,
that controls the theme.
But in the darkness, they feel the sting...
Still shadows dance along the walls and men with guns will roam the halls in search of what their told to hunt but never questioning.
never questioning...
as freedom falls...

The rebels screaming in the street believe the paths beneath their feet, so I'll turn and walk away from those behind a self made cage and let my lonesome comedic soul fill with slight romantic rage.

The hull is full of skeletons but I cannot prove a thing,
so instead I'll heave around the lines and softly start to sing.
Perhaps they'll send me to the brig
or have me dance a gallows jig.
but either way, I'm here to stay
until my body fades away.

So fellow sailors start to chant, I want t hear your voices.
They mean more to me than you will ever know.



*I'll be gone for a while but I'll be back...

Can you please save me?
I am drowning.
I am drowning in the land of the free and home of the...
(wait, what was that last part again?)
We had so much potential...
We saved the world.
We cared for it gently.
Now that has been shoved to the side.
I am drowning in this dystopian plutocracy.
I can't breathe over the advertisements.
My lungs are filled with empty words.



I sink into the static...

Those who understand have been consumed by noise.
We are crawling from the  shadow,
though seen as merely glitches.
An infection within components of a failing Great Machine;
a virus turning zeroes into laughter,
and ones into screams.
We are crawling from the shadow but becoming more than glitches,
a noise streaming from every speaker,
long after the screens have read
"Error, corrupted file."

The form in which we live our lives

Breeds in the midst of demon hives.

For dogs do bark in senseless fright

At shadows lurking in the night,

And souls shiver at that unseen;

Cathartic reasons not to dream.

Voices whisper ideas, faux truths,

That knowledge has no valid use.

And when we hear, we do obey

The voice that blocks the light of day.

Lamplight dances against cave walls

And childlike wonder slowly falls.

Pavlov shakes his head in sadness,

For we, indeed, are his madness.

And Plato weeps within his cage

For all his truths leave him in rage.

Is all that we can ever see

Vague words that tell us not to be?

"How long are you willing to run?", I whispered.

I opened my eyes and I was in a golden hall with polished edges and echoes repeating a language I could never understand.
There was a tearing at my heart and I knew men with with cruel intentions were on the prowl for me even though I could not see them.
I took off running and crashed through the windows, shattering the glass and giving the echoes something to listen to that wasn't a dead whisper. Maybe they can hear the trees now.

I kept running, leaping over anything that came in my path. I ran up walls and slid down buildings. I felt stronger and faster than those who chased me. When I jumped, the sky seemed closer than the ground.

I suddenly noticed a woman following me. She kept a steady pace, running and leaping with me.
I had a distinct feeling that she meant no harm because I felt something new. Her smell lingered around me.
I ran onto the freeway, bouncing from car to car, running from the invisible men and keeping one eye on the woman.

Time stopped and I was flying through the air.

The sound of engines died away and I turned around to see the woman. She was beautiful. The look on her face was that of determination and intrigue. I pulled her close brought my face to hers. We stared at each other for what seemed like years and though our lips never touched, our eyes spoke of fire and patience. I saw what made the sun glow against the universe in those eyes.

Time began to come undone once more and I had to let her go to keep running against men with blood in their eyes.
But still she chased on and I knew she would be right behind me all the way to the end.

I know she will be...

"As long as it takes...", she softly said.*


-Joshua

Based on a dream. Hopefully you like it.

I drink red bull and orange juice with a splash ***.
Then I play screamo speeding down the highway
getting ready to topple kings.
I am the kind of guy that smokes cigars in the shower then dances his way to the kitchen to make a peanut butter and jelly.
If there was in an absolute zero in the amount of ***** a human being can give, I wouldn't even try to calculate it because that will prove my point.
I watched a woman get punched in the face by another woman over a ******* blender and I watched a poor man give a dollar out of a broken wallet to a charity.
These things seem to not make sense to some
To me it does.
You think the world is mostly bad?
You think the world is mostly good?
You're wrong.
You are all wrong.
Speaking in absolutes will put you in the same place as the tyrant that you are constantly ******* about.
If you want to save the world, there will always be people trying to stop you.
If you want to destroy the world, there will always be people trying to stop you.
I am the man in the background eating popcorn and getting miffed because my soda is almost empty and I might have to get a refill.
These are the kings I topple.


YOU
ARE
THE
KINGS
I
TOPPLE

For the love of god shut the hell up and smoke a cigar in the shower.

Someone is listening in the darkness.
Gravity cannot contain our voices and the stars embrace every scream,
the galaxies every song;
a millenia of music notes and battle cries.

Someone is watching in the darkness.
Curious eyes at such a strange celestial blue questioning itself,
earnestly gazing in every direction.

Someone is waiting in the darkness.
Patiently listening to our feet tread ground we were once afraid of
with hopeful eyes  moving forward from all we thought to know.

Music notes float softly one by one from the ceiling while I lay in bed dancing between universes.
Thoughts of sadness, thoughts of madness, creep up my spine like the knives of Brutus,
while joyous dreams and hopeful themes flow through my blood like angels unraveling blackened seams...

So in this state I lay in patience while the music rains softly down and emotion trickles all around but I'm not scared for somewhere in the shadows you are there...

I am ****** at the world for being so selfish.
I am ****** at all pretty girls who pass me by.
I am ****** at the rich folk who have more than I.
I am ****** at the arrogance,
****** AT THE IGNORANCE.
I am ****** at my teacher for making me fail.
I'm so very angry. I'm ****** as hell.
I am ****** at my band 'cause their new album *****.
I'm ****** at the manager because he didn't give me a chance.
But most of all I'm ****** 'cause I done ****** my pants.

Temporal distortions.
3,2,1   1,2,3.
Subconscious contortions.
“Twinkle twinkle little hat,
Tell me on whose head you sat.”
They ask me my name and I want to answer, but they seem to be standing on their heads, and feet do not have ears from what I can tell.
There is a man in the corner aging backwards and an infant in an armchair reading what appears to be Dickens, while puffing on a pipe. He gives me a cold look and also asks me my name.
I start to reply, but he has already buried his head back in the book.

5, 4, 3, 2… 9.
Wait, that isn’t right.
9, 8, 7, 6, 5… 13.
******, that isn’t either.

Cardiovascular erosion.
“Come on then, take a deeeeeep breath. That’s it. Find your inner chi. You are on a splendid beach.”
Synaptic corrosion.
“Now the second law dictates that entropy will always increase, and entropy, as we all know, is the amount of Thetans we possess in our body.

15, 12, 104, 18…
****, what comes after 18?

The people standing on their heads have started singing Christmas songs.
But it is in the middle of Bruly. Christmas is not in Bruly. It is in Leptember. What silly creatures.
Distant phonetics.
If a tree falls in a forest, will it disturb Rip Van Winkle?
Ocular genetics.
Now I quoth Jesus when I say, “If one eyes does cause you to sin, pluck out the other one if it doesn’t want to join in on the fun.

I can no longer speak. My teeth have turned into book pages, dampened by saliva. The man again backwards is now merely a floating fetus in a womb with the infant tsking in disapproval while puffing on his pipe.
The people standing on their heads are singing the wrong words to Oh Holy Night and once more a voice asks me my name.
Suicidal contemplation vs societal insubornation! Who will conquer who..?
Through teethless gums I murmur,
“I have no name, I have no face. I am chaotic understanding made of madness in my veins.
Close your eyes and count to ten.

Planets above and fathoms below,
I ask on the Empty, "Where should I go?"
Do I trust my compass, shall I break my clock?
Are there ways of guidance we've yet to unlcok?

One giant leap forward, two giant leaps back.
One foot nursing wounds, one prepared for attack.
I knock and I knock at the great wooden door
but the Empty is silent and I wonder for more.

My questions give silence and no answers are found
except words of heaven that make not a sound.

The planets and fathoms, they answer me not,
but somewhere has answered this pondering thought.


You can search far and wide, you can struggle and bleed,
but the answers your seeking aren't the answers you need.

You say that God does not exist,
and a part of me believes you...
But how can you condemn their hate
when you spread it constantly too?

When time began after the first second fell into nothingness and the world became more than a whisper, two beings met in the darkness and could not remember where they came from.
One green,
and one yellow.

Green preferred the fresh smell of the earth beneath his feet and the flow of water along his hands. Yellow preferred to give light to green, allowing him to work in peace and sending wind to wipe away any pain of toil.

Green and yellow began to grow fond of one another though and wanted more than just mutual work.
As time passed and the work of green and yellow grew beautiful in strength, their love grew more powerful and tender.

But in all their strength, they could not touch one another...
Their hands grew close but never enough to grasp one another. The light grew dim and green began to fade to brown...


...but...

When the will is strong and love gives birth in weary veins, miraculous things can happen.

In a moment of strength and the need to hold one another, green and yellow exploded in an attempt to reach each other...
and in that instant, blue was created across an endless path between them.

They both smiled and held each other softly, whispering things that mortal ears will never hear... but with the right ears you can hear their messages in the wind and the water..



So it will be until the last second stops.
When darkness is falling you can look to the west and see green meet yellow and embrace into the vast eternity.

The End.


-Joshua

Nothing is true.

Everything is permitted.


-Assassins Creed

No, dear.



You did not leave a hole in my heart.


                                                    
                                              The hole was there, long before you
                                                   stumbled into my life.


                          
                             ­  It will be there long after you turn to memory.




Tearing it a little wider is the only thing
                                                           ­   **you
                                                      ­                  managed to achieve.


                                                    A couple more inches of
                                                                ­        scarring
                                                ­                 and the repulsive stench
                                                     of your rotting soul.

The moon looks the same everywhere that I go... forever lovely and whiter than snow.

I stare in the sky and ask my questions
with a slightly
humble
voice,
but all that goes throughout my mind
is snatched up
by a different
choice.

The west of me wants only to see
the world in raging fearful fire.
While the east of me,
which craves the free,
wants only to calm the hostile desire.

With hope they'll break the selfish hand and work towards more than something grand...

Is there a difference between whispers and screams?
This bombastic expulsion of soul...

To ears who might listen, or eternal silence.
hearts and minds are far from control.

You are the one who can play the piano keys of my heart.
You can pluck the strings of my dreams. An orchestra of romance and tranquility and a concerto of gentleness and fire.
Memories and ghosts haunt us all and keep us afraid.
They tighten us and whisper in our ears that we are failures and that we deserve to be in pain.


I can be the exception.


I can be the voice in your ear.
What they said does not matter.

Ghosts cannot survive in the sunlight, and I want to bathe you in it.
I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are.
As long as you are smiling, the earth will spin a little happier and the stars will burn a little brighter.
As long as you keep the fire in your heart, hope for a reality better than this remains.
Close your eyes.
Let go of your fear.
Listen to me when I tell you that you are why the sun is so eager to poke his head over the horizon.
I will whisper in your ear and I will hold you.
I will be the exception.
Be brave my love.

Stay you.

This world didn't abandon war, we just made it greedy and taught it to answer to the highest bidder.
We didn't destroy famine, we just pushed it far enough away to distract everyone else with neon lights.
We didn't conquer pestilence, it just grew tired of infecting our bodies, and grew hungry for our souls.
If the last enemy to be destroyed is death, then he will be waiting a long time because our enemies weren't defeated, just painted a different color and labeled "Buy one, get one free."