Much is lost in moments....A broken dress string...a broken cigarette....

The light from a star is never more near to your eye...than music to your ear.

Thunder may break...neutrons may shake, but light is still the fastest way to travel.

For I do not know what the end brings....but I can hear the song play...people dance...love.

You say your cigarette won't light....it's too dark.....my dress string broke....I am not pretty.

But the lunacy of counting cars...straightening cards...ensuring obsessions are filled...not forgotten...

Is my front door still open..........or is it merely the worry of precious things...left unbroken.

Lightening may strike...electrons may excite....But light in your eyes astounds...people look...beauty.

Bummed cigarette.....safety pin fix........Much is lost in moments..

What's this?
I feel,
This warmth,
I feel beneath my breast.
I cannot seem to hide it,
But I think it's for the best.

The dark has been so long,
Still I feel the need to sing a song,
I know there's nothing wrong,
But I cannot help but moving along.

I see,
The sun,
It is so very far away,
I think I will run to meet it,
If only for the day,
I guess I have to wait right here,
Good thing sunsets don't cause me tears,

But the light is just quite right,
I hope these good feelings go on all night,
Until the darkness turns to light,
Just another bumpin party and we're doing alright!!

Standing in the sunlight
Warmness on my face
The brightness nearly blinds vision
I lick the beams to test their taste
Just for contemplation
I wonder at the experienced sight
Of standing on a sun's molten seas
Where light forbids the night
Burning with such ferocity      
In the middle of the cold dark matter
Where a single touch may move a ton
Great held truths may begin to shatter
But I am merely staring at the sun
And a simpler day had started
Outside the lids of the closed eyes.

Snow drifts over the hills as if sand, differing by merely altered warmth inside a hand.  

Icy frozen windows dripping away, not cold enough yet to last the day.

Snowmen melt like ice cream cones, just like the chunks of slush slide off of homes.  

Precious water slowly trickles down drying streets, while the fog of sublimation makes a cycle complete.

How do I perceive this?
How do I react?
I had to address this,
I was quite taken aback,
The astonishment,
The surprise,
It is really difficult to believe
What I view with my two eyes,
And the more to the point,
What I hear from this guy,
I am not sure that I get it,
This may be a joke,
But that guy just slapped my ***
And blew kisses as he spoke,
Now I am no hater,
But I do not swing that way,
So instead of being violent I turn and politely say,
"If you slap my *** again, sir...you are gonna have to pay?"

Heavy is the mind that holds vocabulary
Inside a chest of hollow sounds
Sometimes the blood drips effortlessly
Often, there is never an utterance
No words kept in a precious order
No time to speak
What must be spoken
At your feet lay twisted syllables
Held only by chaos in tune
How can you calibrate consonants
When you cannot incorporate vowels
Why would you try to create meaning
If you lack the proper reverberations
To know a simple meaning is to know the root
Some yet follow a complex path
In the search for the burden of words

Rebels root for fortitude in jest
The kind that sorrowful mermaids hold too tightly
Where all the tick-tocks hold patience place
Crossing over bridges of perpetual reiteration
There is nothing to see in brightly lit halls
Though, darkness creeps in all spaces
Waves knock boards like greenhorns knees
Forever giving an ocean to the sea
Something lost in a dream never dreamt
Waking only to remember that you forget
Jesters never placed in flocking meadows, but
Where maniacal mentalities reign in the shadows
Time is laced with life yet waiting for the count
Where we may yet feel the heat of a flame
As this broken boat sails the freest sea
On the passages northwest of insanity

The point of no return
Anger fills the sight
No more controls set in place
Aggression runs with a fierce right

Set aflame by emotions
Fully coursing through a soul
Being slowly ripped apart
As it refuses to fall in the whole

Of rage and destruction
that once held tight
They comfort with hate
And pain in the night

But as one half rapidly falls into darkness
The other craves pure illumination
Because while evil can never wait
Purest lights have infinite patience

So while the scales may tip
Into the murkiest of waters
The truest hearts will never slip
And drown in fruitless angers

For a heart that shines......
                                          .........blinds you with its love

Falling ever backwards into the black again
A revolving darkness that warps me up tightly never ends
There is only so much control an id can take
Only so much pressure for the ego cracks and breaks
Feeling like Pluto missing the light and constant warmth
With the weight of the world holding me from moving forth
Who can pull me from this hidden gap
What can release me from this mentally manifested trap
A pitfall that always seems to drag me in
The rut that makes me begin to hate my skin
Darker are the thoughts of death that constantly creeps like a flood that will never cease
Until She reaches for me in the darkness to be the light of my release.
She is the tiniest spark of hope that never dies
She is the one that saves me as she looks into my eyes
Always close to me, but yet so far away
I wish I could reach for her…reach for her everyday
But depression holds me tight like a demon to a soul
SO until I beat this darkness, I feel I will never be whole

Continuous reflections of every light that passes,
The detection of my eyes as water simply dances.

Stillness shows a shimmering reverse dimension,  
Tires break the water shattering buildings in its reverberations.

Tiny droplets hit the glass like little expansions of reality,
It is often sad that wet blacktops lead to many fatalities.

But despite the flaws water at night is still the greatest,
Yet the warmer rain brings the sweeter kiss.

In the midst of a rainbow one I cannot resist,
But as we drive down the path.

Seemingly dark and dampened,
You grabbed my hand so tightly.

I never saw the edge of the road,
Flying through the air.

The water seems so very cold,
Now a love of something leads to never growing old.

Born into a world colder then glacial tidal waves, yet naked in the sun of tomorrows we forever wait.

Wondering where the light began, how the showing of brightness produced the fractal pattern complexity unending.

Blink, but do not give away illumination for the lone black vacuum tumultuous constant of anti-nothing that cradles all things with mass.

Holdfast to logical constructs that articulate a suitable fashion, not those worn until their withered threads broke the binding of founding to an untested journey of life.

Of, intentional sacrifice of habitual mainstays that dust has long removed the visible passion to once it had belonged.

A burning inside for something tangible that out runs a heart alluding capture at every grasp.

How does one contain a pyroclastic flow of emotions that pour from a soul breaking oceans down to their knees, vomiting dirt and dust, while begging the stubborn clouds for water?

"We owe no compensation for the loss of liquid you horde, for the cost required to return you cannot afford".

Much too is the passion of a human heart, hasty to burn in a quickened rush, ending in an overly lamented rust.

But not all fires simply burn out, some roar, some kick, and many shout, and it is not the fear that they will die.

It is the belief that something ancient pulls through the lone black nothing to those born of even stranger tides igniting a raging inferno.

Showing candles burned at both ends can begin old emotions in young hearts that have never known a solid direction for passions unbound by limitations of vacuum insanity.

The most delicate rose with its petals flowing in the breeze, women are the sweetness that fills the life of leaves.

Liken to the root that digs deep into the earth, strong and ever reaching often hidden in the dirt.

The ones behind the strong branch that seems to hold the world, even harder to believe they start as breakable and vulnerable little girls.

Most grow knowing the weight of a thousand stars, all in the search to find merely who they are.

They are the mother earth that breathes life into us all, they are the ones we must ensure never fall.

Cold barrel pressed the back,
Colder steel felt like the end,
Pale faced in fear,

Cannot move to feel,
Blood pumps passed ears so hard,
Words are too stifled to hear,

He forcefully says...

              "Gemme what you got and you won't get shot"

Hands so cold grabbing my shoulder,
Breathe so shallow as not to enrage the beast,
I wonder if I will see tomorrow....  

Emptied pockets and loss of effects,
Taken pride from those less in years,
I hope my dollar and fifty cents was enough for this feeling I have inside,

              "Lay on the ground, don't look at my face"

Running so hard for home,
Tears the only thing I see in my eyes,
The small bit that I lost, will seem like nothing in time...

Compared to what could have been taken,
A part of me feels so naked,
The hardest way to see the coldest of hearts,

The lesson learned, is that death is my closest friend,
Not there at the begin,
But surely with me in the end...

The day that you made me, planned with such care,
the greatest moment, you could see in my stare.
I was not so varied, so different from the rest,
but the love that you gave me, would make me the best.

Year after year always so loved, always in your highest grace,
sometimes it seemed over my own blood, but this was not the case.
For you loved us all equally, and always so meekly,
the only difference was, you loved me uniquely.  

Fathers always think of passing aspects on, while mothers rarely do,
but the only person I will really carry on, is only you.
Always my friend, not a secret we keep,
my closet is your closet, and those bones never speak.

I wish that I could say, you taught me everything I know,
however, the best lesson you gave me, you taught me how to grow.
The greatest words you gave to me, "do what makes you happy",
and living by this expression, I am never lacking.

My heart is not the biggest though many would disagree,
you're the reason I'm so gentle and loving as can be.
There are no real words that capture, the feelings I aim to relay,
but I write my thoughts down anyway, and hope it makes your day!

I love you momma...

Lost between a daydream and a trance, feeling through a warm summers night rain dance.

Many words can make a story true, but words do not always show the real you.

Not always what we see is a thought, learning how to truly feel was never taught.

One can always hide behind what they say, but the emotions in the words can give you away.

A trained heart will know where to look, not a subject to be found inside a book.

One must search for how to feel, part of the lost art of telling what is real.

Stepping through dimensions swimming on the astral plane, psyche ripped to pieces falling out a corporeal frame.

Minutes seem likes seconds but the hours seems like years, were we chasing daydreams or running from our fears.

Feel the cord slip as the body fades away, drift into the beyond counting forever and a day.

Slide through the mystic cosmic membrane like breaking the water surface, almost forgetting who you are or at the very least forget your purpose.

Hold tighter to the memories of the form as you recede, life is so much more then the bones that you perceive.

Yet back into the cotton you fall once more, so much for an escape as someone begins knocking at the door.

Stare into the fleeting glance of a hopeless minded stranger, look past the days of broken glass into a struggling fear of danger.

Not all these wary souls find solace in this contentment, nor do they seek the road that leads to a lifetime of resentment.

How can we see the broken mind with a face that paints no picture, how can we grasp the emotional flow when know not the condition of the fixture.

How can we offer open hands when the days of sorrow blind them, how can we know their pain when thoughts to express them are binded.

We must break the solitude of night that ever gloom upon their distance, to meet them with the illumination of healing love's stronger persistence.

As some gray days can never become blue without a changing wind, sometimes we cannot see the power that was always hiding within.

Cannonball like inertia carries life through in a blaze, caught inside memories like a boat lost in the haze.

Up and down these rolling hills of passionate emotions, built upon a foundation of casual devotion.

Butterflies affect the moments thatoften pass us by, not like the ones never grasped thought of when we die.

But the ones too often had that are all too quickly gone, those we long for often and to which we tightly hold on.

Held and gripped by symmetrical lines
Into forms virtually incomplete
Capsized by a separation of self
Gone unabridged to calculations
But I count seconds like sheep
While the rest of you weep
In a bed utterly soaked
In transcendental dream work of the lost
Still a pitiful sigh is given
To the most vicious lie never told
Held inside patterned breaths
Not yet realized by a focused soul
Bringing down walls is a constant exercise of fear
Blankets of memories do not hide truths unspoken
Lips do…

Few can know the path of one who uses dark magic, though there be appeal it's road is fraught with sadness and rather tragic.

One may use this power to control another's mind, one may even use it to change the body's age for a time.

Yet few who use will ever speak of the price that must be given, never will they tell the piece of soul torn and forever hidden.

But those who wield the dark arts to quietly entrench the world, can still become the brightest light that shines to heal with words.

They may even stand right next to you offering a shoulder and hug, for the terrible things they have done can only be repaid with love.

Forever will the truth remain in one that has walked the darkened road, ever will they repay the debt lest their heart once again corrode.

Feel that tug of a vibrational pulse wave
Some darkness cares little for the want to stay
Gravitational anomalies hidden in a dream
Yet realness found in hypnotic mind streams
Held by that which shifts between grey
Kept from vision as consciousness sees day
Illumination guarded in traps of genetic lines
Taken long ago from those separated by time
Falling into daydreams of amnesia broken
Fearful of memories that can never be spoken.

Tender are the moments spent on cloud pillows with blanket memories
Once solid visions turn to merely smells of a gusting by past
Recollections found in the wind taste of a sweet spontaneity
Held by hearts that never let go, and minds that casually forget
A thumping from within never quiet beneath the skin
To the dreams ran away from that fill watery eyes
Merely to awaken to an empty world that a heart may despise
Never to return as the sun does after the coldest night
Defining a realization that alone, now, one must fight
As the half that promised to never leave has all but gone away
Yet always trapped in daydreams, in an almost timeless kind of way

Comforted by broken symbols and lost signs

Not even sure how to step down or rewind

Caught blinded by a futile primordial scream

Dropping final seeds into a increasingly bloodier stream

No direction now for the fragile time that never passes

That progression held only for those who act the crassest

Can one balance on the point of needle's tip

How quickly to be skewered for a tiny slip

Diving deep into the guts of investigation

Never thinking of course of consideration

Merely the need for blood on open fangs

Seeing the blackened soul lusting at future's never changed.

How can we breath life into splintered and shattered light

When most people only want to inhale the darkness of the infinite night.

Standing at the edge of a shattered lake of despair
Pondering the notion of how little people care
Not such placated sentiments as hollow as dried up bones
But those that tear at the soft bellies of what one might call home
Time will test the measure of any who withstand the wind
Knowing that our greatest strength will always come from within
We cannot always see the future by relishing in a past
Hardly do we see our own dreams coming in last
Yet there is always a bright light in a tunnel standing black
Often there is a turn point...for which there is no coming back.