I always find motivation at the worst of times
Driving, eating, listening to music, going to sleep,
my mind always kick-starts when my body is occupied

My motivation is a curious thing
perhaps I push forward for all the wrong reasons
money, women, fame
maybe I do for all the right ones
to care for my mother, to not have any stress

The complexity of my mind is a puzzle I have yet to figure out
I am cold and calculated, logical and precise
and yet I am warm and unsure, lazy and uncoordinated
I tell myself that this is normal, that I am “just human”
then I think “when was I ever not?”

when did the thoughts swirling in my mind become so twisted and mangled, that I forgot my physiology?
Am I human? Or something worse? Do I live up to the expectations set down by the factions of people who do not know me, truly know me?

Society, tradition, legacies, all prompt a forced evolution into what they need me to be
But what do I need?

Even I can't answer that. Friendship, love, money, space, respect, power, and the will to use it correctly
I've got pills. To admit I needed them meant to admit I was weak, and it hurt.
I am man, cunning and powerful.
No.
I've always been middle class, public school, minimum wage.
High stakes low reward, tireless work in a never ending cycle
I am no man, I am a person.
You cannot define me
I am weak and fragile, strong and unbreaking
soft and cuddly, hard and combative

As a human I have variety and the skill of adaptation at my finger tips
I can be anyone, do anything, continue in their footsteps or forge my own path
It is my choice
many things try and take my choice away
depression, government, different beliefs that all come to a point on a spear that aims to pierce me
pierce my will, my hopes and dreams, my way of life

and through all of that I still stand
dead father, sick mother, fat, drop-out, loveless, unsuccessful, a fear of the future
striving to please the ones I love while they spout hate and ignorance

weathered and torn, I still find a way to smile
and though storms rage endlessly within each and every one of us
we can still smile, laugh, love and learn
even thought the weight of our individual worlds can keep us down
we can still breath, speak, and show kindness

no accomplishment is too little
there is a war inside of all of us daring to burst out
a battle to get out of bed, to go outside, to write, to read, to have fun or to work hard
every hit of life we take could be laced with hardship and difficult decisions
and no person should be ostracized for what you deem as failures and shortcomings

we are people of duality, contradictions, and inconsistencies
there is no criteria for being human
there is nothing wrong with you, there are only things that hold you back
there is nothing perfect about you, only things that you favor about yourself
there is nothing you should be doing and nowhere you have to be

in a world where everything is out to get you, and your guard stays up
never stop fighting for the right to lower your shield
never stop fighting for the right to be who you want to be

You may not have the job you want,
you may not have finished your homework
you may not have gotten out of bed

but always remember
tomorrow is a new day to change what you hated about yesterday

The time of day in which I feel most at peace
Is when the clock strikes six am in the Summer season

Cool morning, the world around me a pale blue
Before the sun's fiery eye has peaked over the horizon
The air is not hot or cold, and no wind comes to blow the leaves
The world is tender and crisp, like the lover's waking hands

Cool morning, breaching darkness and outshining stars
Before a paintbrush has whisked clouds across the sky
Humanity lies dormant in the serenity of peaceful silence
And the land is innocent, a light breeze caressing it's blushing curves

Cool morning, the moment before I rest
A gentle tide of freedom washing over the confines of my body
A carefree sleepiness coursing through my veins
A temptation disguised as bundled up sheets

The time of day in which I feel most at peace
Is when my body is relaxed and I know it is finally
Cool morning
cdl
7/11/13

Behind smiles that crease the skin of fake happiness;
Lies dormant ferocity and smirking ruthlessness.
A cunning beast resides in this heart of doubt and grief.
Veins pumping cold blood and fangs grinding;
The mask slithers along cracked skin to darkening blue eyes;
Untrue colors shine through now red irises.
Twisted ******* of a once truly good soul;
Tainted by a darkness that holds it down.
Power that courses under tensed muscles;
Hair stiffening to a stand on the back of a neck.
Persuasion that manipulates, intimidation that scares.
Welcoming grin that harbors words of hate.
Spiteful things that roll of the tongue;
A sweeping waterfall of daggers.
Black clouds encompass the mind, whispering lies;
Fading loyalty and receding necessity.
Unimaginable weight on the shoulders;
Keeping hope down and grounding hate with solid foothold.
Tidal waves of inner tears, The Helpless Hero weeps.
Scars etched on the symbiotic mask;
Feeding on locked away thoughts, radiating negative energy.
Weakness and strength, a double edged blade.
Destiny's call silenced and fate falling into the abyss;
An inner light to be sparked, to wage the internal battle.
A war bearing one victim with two faces of the coin.
Collisions of two factions calling for the death of each other.
But the end holds festering pain and realization;
Coinciding opposites to face the greater threat.
The outside world of a million warriors, just like them;
For we all fight battles with sword and with shield.
A gladiatorial existence, a reason for pain;
A quest for honor, a reason to live.

c.d.l
5/23/12

The numbed mind releases pure thought of logic and pride
Skin crawling with a legion of pinpricks underneath the flesh
A sudden stiffening leaves all feeling blocked
Silent screams from the gaze of dead and colorless eyes
Tears drip down the side of a barely beating heart
Pumping nauseous thought throughout the veins
Inching across every piece of exhausted body
Twitching fingertips that reach out for no one
Everything that is, being poured into the bottomless gap
All energy drained, an empty vessel
Treading the scorched fields that once burned with passion
Cracked and riddled, no will to go on
Mind racing while limbs crawl at the slowest pace
Skeletal hands holding the beating heart
Their cold touch freezing all within
Rain pelting holes through tender remains of the strong man
Cold steel of knives protruding from the back
Grinding against the spine slowly cutting away cerebral ties
The anchor risen from a sinking ship as the tide pulls it under
Drowning in a rapid current of emotion and doubt
Darkness enveloping all rationality, a cocoon of deep piercing spikes
Ever closer to the edge of the windy cliff, threatening to push just enough
Falling through time and space back to innocence and freedom
A black and white picture, familiar faces with unfamiliar smiles
Things lost as age withered away all youthfulness
Scroll of film burned by the dying projector
Life flashed before dead eyes
Black accompanied by the last few beats
Echoing the cries that go unheard
Until the last beat sounds into deaf nothingness
Life ceased as time races forward
Sleep with eyes forced open to watch as the end approaches
The colossal ****** of the wilting world
Behold, Destruction.  
c.d.l
2/11/12

Knees buckle as weight sinks me into splintered sands of old aspirations
Clenching at dried ground tread by those with a well of will
Crawling through slick mud, plastered images of the past etched on my skin
Gray eyes hurriedly look for an escape from the door-less chambers of my mind
Stood tall on the unbalanced pedestal,
wiry noose scratching a deadly tease on my neck
Never mighty enough to take the fall,
afraid the wind would carry this hollow husk away
Dread and thick molasses coursing through my veins to a barely beating heart
Mirror's reflection only a stranger with broken hopes and dreams
A looker to stand out amongst the sightless crowd of two faced horrors
As it comes crashing down, plunged into darkness and void of color
My back breaking under encrusted greed,
vitality gone with smoke that clears the green
Bleak hope litters the streets with flickering lights
that dance along the bodies we've built upon
A glitch in a corrupt system
coming to unclean calculations and illogical conclusions
The few who chronicle the fall
of the infamous and unforgotten cry at my polished casket
Collective wisps of my knowledge and strength,
fleeing from the body too distraught to use them
Energy drained into the remnants of friendship and love,
where only dusty ruins remain
My thoughts collide in the ever raging internal battle
for control over a cracked mind
Locked away secrets kept from petty eyes to gallantly deprive them of the fear
Words struck in dark ink
to tell them the story of my rise and collapse into weakness
As the dust clears,
blood red skin mimics the phoenix's rise from the ashes of a lifeless body
Tears that streak down my cheek burn and seer tender skin,
a cry let loose for this life wasted
Waking up entangled within sheets trying to constrict frantic sleep movements
Trying to run from the darkest whispers of my mind
that toy and pluck the strings of my emotions
Stuttering melodies cackle from an over played record
that sounds across frail heartbeats
An ever living night terror,
treading lightly so not to awake the beast laying dormant within
A gamble or an act of bravery, no one knows the ending of this humble tale

c.d.l
2/25/12

9 years today.

Seems like it's been a lot longer honestly.

Feels like a lifetime.

I really hope I've made you proud.

...

Though I'm guessing I haven't.

I'm a bit of a failure now'a'days.

I think it's hard for mom to love me sometimes.

This year's been really hard.

Because she fought cancer, just like you.

But she won.

Now I know how much it took from you.

And I feel selfish, for feeling this weak.

But man if you were here,

I think it'd be easier

Because even thought I'm a failure

I know you'd still love me

And I could really use that right now

To hear you say it

But we don't always get what we want

Otherwise,

You'd still be here.

The clock ticks in tandem with the light hum of the mornings breeze.
Its peaceful melody a stark contrast to the crimson soaked greens of the field.
The weight of one's world can only be bared for so long.
And so, his knees crash into the dirt, sweat gathering on his brow and tears streaming down his face.
Open fields and open wounds. Dead people and dead weight.
This checker board reality that has been playing out for nine long years.
Slowly he feels it, the sun peaks over the mountains, beams of radiant light streaming in the air.
A worn page slowly turned to the end of a chapter, only to find blank parchment.
His armor weighs heavy on tired shoulders,
and he has become thirsty for the innocence that once flowed from him so excessively
When his hands join him collapsed and kneeling,
air fills lungs that kept stale breaths close to heart, a repetitive routine, safe and normal.
The chapter closes and with it a blood stained sword is wrenched from the body it had made its home.
Droplets of red turn black with the sliding pressure of a ballpoint pen carving the first words on a fresh page.

"I have come far. From a child I have been forged in the flames of my mind, wicked and stinging, the pain of days gone by whipped and chiseled the rough edges that have carried me this far. This is my story, dear reader, like any other I have faced the world the best I can and I have faced my demons, but most of all I have faced myself. The dark thoughts behind fiery eyes that have told me "no" and I shouted "yes!".
"This is my story, the tale of a man who was still a boy. Of great treasure stolen and new treasure regained, worth more than the cold gold coin, a currency infinite in reward for it is the strength that carries me forward. The lessons learned ink my skin with a map to my treasure that I have learned to cherish, for X marks my heart!"

The sun risen over the mountains, blazing and hot, shimmering off dulled and scuffed armor.
Unbuckling piece by piece, the metal falls from him, the burdens of the past settling into the warming grass.
Shield and sword in hand, like the sun, he too rises.
The haunting past becomes the dewy fog at his feet, experiences worthy of memory at his back,
he takes the next step.

The sounds of agony surrounding me
The noise; palpable
Like a million pinpricks against the skin
But alas the screams are ignored
Deaf ears listen in silence
The sound roars, begging to be heard
Screams reach their peak
The ear’s barrier breaks
And they hear
But they do not listen
Only their shouts exist
They pretend theirs is the only noise
But the sound is a Legion
Of one hundred dreams
And broken hearts
The sound is still
But ever moving
From person to person
Until we live in the silence
Of our own agony
That deafens our ears again
Unbearable noise; unforgettable
Never forgotten; only dormant
Until they shout again
Clashing noise against noise
All in chaotic unison
And catastrophic harmony
Singing of peace
Brought by demise
And how we still will not listen
Until we can scream no more

An unfamiliar imbalance has sunken into the very being of my existence
Sluggish and slow, the twenty-four hour days repeat themselves
and I feel the imbalance continue to grow...

Creativity and emotions bubble to the surface of my mind
whirlwinds of interlacing thoughts and ideas yet to be formed into stories
worlds exist within my mind,
slowly evolving, growing, living, breathing on their own

But tethered am I to the world of imbalance
where red skies and black ground damper the life within
concrete creations and false purposes that provides printed success

Tethered am I to the world of imbalance
where greedy pigs squeal and splash until they get their way
evolved to wear suits, and leave the squalor to the poor

Tethered am I to the world of imbalance
where a false savior excused future sins
but offers no solace to those whom the sinners wronged

But,
against a darkness wearing my own face
against tyrants who control my life
against every defeat wrought by my mistakes

I still stand, a legacy of lessons at my back, and an immeasurable amount of teachers ahead

Despite the mud in which I travel so slowly through
my feet carry me forward, the weight of my world on my shoulders
This is my journey, an epic told by whimsical poems
my face is not one of a crowd
but a symbol at the forefront of the army that is my passion
soldiers brought to life by the stroke of a key that fight for me

Words are my weapon and I will not be silenced.

c.d.l.
8/20/13