Molecularly driven like a locomotive engine
Ripping Suns apart like the universe's darkest invention
Behold the fire **** streaking violently through solar waves
Colliding with asteroids taking bites as they drift away
Feeding on the life force of the bluest helium star
A collection of trillions of souls together coming to grips with what they are
Only in the devouring, can they satisfy their rage and anger
Not realizing they were destroying planets like theirs only making the fire lion stronger
By adding to the sadness and the number of taken lives
For some things, need no reason for their passion to hate and despise.
But all things can be changed with one tiny little notion
It is foolish to believe one drop can change an ocean.........but it only takes one dream!

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?"

Cryptic quotation offer shattered self-esteem
No solace for the personality flaws
Not quite the proclivity for annihilation
Yet, every stab at the paper breaks new teeth
Curious is the looker who looks through filtered eyes
Even still, there is no need to protest
An awkward moment of exaggeration
Or a sardonic belittling of subterfuge
Coordinated to change the sided nature of self
Crowned by the masses so intimately
But without a shred of deeper connection
And the line grows longer but no one knows why
Blind are bridge jumpers who love high numbers
Just like you never hear of lone sheep
Is everything so tragic…

Dark pathways harbor broken dreams
But as the clam steals one grain of sand
Torn dreams may yet become pearls
It all depends on how long you hold them inside

The ocean does not stop moving so the sky can catch its breath
The night never waits for pupils to dilate to the black
Nor does the wind stop blowing so the ocean can rest
Just as the day does not wait for eyes to open for the sun to rise

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.

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.

Can you smell the little pastries cooking down the hall
Can you hear the sound as my heart begins to crawl
Interlaced corridors of cordial metaphor
A coffee cake pace in a curious position set a forth
Can you see how sensual measures make me shake
Can you feel that you are my love's potentate  
Lost in a scatter-brained impulsiveness to force annealing
Chasing that radiant love that feels like constant healing
Knowing that it is pouring in half of your soul
Knowing that equally given will always equal a whole    
Giving all the potency of love a spirit can possess
Realizing that Love was never really a test
But more falling into a breathtaking abyss
Lost in the epicness of her every kiss

Tried to be little coy, even tried to be so very nice
So this little tidbit, I will not be uttering twice
Most firmly grip the truth, when it is all they are seeing
Yet, you merely ignore, like a person with headphones, peeing
The branch delicately extended, the olive oil gently drips
Trying to figure out, what was done to deserve all of this
For one merely requested, to hear kind words from a friend
Never knowing those neuron pulses, were merely all pretend
But moving on they say, just more water into the mote
Still never think the end, formal goodbyes were never spoke...

Loved,
Desired,
Aspects that are to be collected,
A loving embrace seemingly so effortless,
Sacrifices made to unite two as one,
An admiration of two never undone,
But a bridge never properly strung.

Fire,
Passion,
Built from within,
None to contend,
The burning of my pen,
Or was it my heart,
Confused from the start.

Placate
Compassion
So easily to forget,
No longer to restore what tore apart in the hastiest regret,
Broken in two foreseeing a labored path,
So we look to memories we have nominated,
Never thinking to glance back at the carnage we have abated.

Distraught,
Pieces,
But, never once ashamed,
Because only in my inner destruction,
Lies the source of my abstain,
Disconnect my heart, so effortless one would say,
Sounding much too simple, easy, and plain.

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.

There is no greater force than to consume a burning sun
The chemical reaction measured but the megaton
But when slowly done in a most diabolically methodical fashion
Each helium neutrino ripped apart by atomizing pure passion
Like helpless water circling down a drain pulled hopelessly in
Time will move ever so slowly once within

        With no beginning......and no end........

Every particle similarly blasted into basic atomic makeup
There is no bearing size of space for matter to take up
With each consumed substance its dark potential uplifts
Uniformly placed all things amazingly fit
In a place where nothing so exponential should sits
All melting into an event horizontal pit

        Every last light will parish.......not one bit will survive........

This force will never desist
Yet everything will still exist
On the great spinning disc of time
That has merely yet to reverse in our puny mind
To bang all possessions in unpredictable directions
Never really thinking of correcting imperfections

        Because everything has always been there......and never was.....

Catapult cherry bomb metaphors
Like pestilent adolescent authenticity
No sharper then dull is the witless then before
Yet we ignore constant facts that lack congruency
Purely a jest to elements of a vicious nature shown
A lead lined carpet with no broom large enough
Hiding only chucks of self that fade to dust
Pyrex houses have shorter lives when granite flies

The distance never seemed so great
Cataclysm perfectionists
Yet, I am not your humpy dumpy,
Or your fine china ware
Bare knuckles drip sweat with anxiety
I know she wants a reaction
A pulse burst neuron pattern
She wants emotion...my fear...my jealousy
A hulk-like idiocy irrationally irrationalness
Anger does not suit dragons...it is messy
When wisdom is much more vicious
Sound becomes tines of liquid silver endings
Forcing once passionate melodic tones
Into baritone thunder claps of aggression
But strangely...the animals do not run
As patients is a commandeering trait
But the distance g  r  o  w  s greater..

The flower soaks the brightness of the sun, emotional oceans flood hearts by the ton.

Searching for hidden beauty within the seed, nurtured to grow into what we need.

The mind is the soil in which we plant, knowledge and wisdom slowly removing "I can't".

Growing stronger at fighting winds that blow against, more powerful then the fight is an unbreakable defense.

So absorb the sun in which you shine, to hone and strengthen an unbreakable mind.

Shall I call to thee once more, my love?
Thou arrow doth shoot into me from above.
Tangled stings of lover's passion never borrow.
Yet perched on the light of yester morrow,
She hordes my memory justly cloaked, an entrenchment.
Her Meadowlark breast sings of my contentment.
As my voice fails to muster thus.
Her lover's song doth turn to dust.
In the translucent glow of placid regret,
He sees the paleness of a face wet.
So saddening was once the passing rains,
Now forward, a bled heart remains.
Her pointed sharpened attraction once a desire,
Now merely a softened verse within my spire.
Thou stricken surprised; whilst I forthright,
To inform thee of tragedy ending thy night.

Burn so brightly elements of yesterday
Locked in a peculiar orbit, they say

The largest star in any sky
Burning the hottest before it dies

The intense blue of sublimation
Black holes envy his degradation

Far past when molecular oxidation occurs
Into great fires smoldering for her

Countless planets revolving over
Hopelessly caught in his supernova

The atomic incineration of time
All through ionized helium lines

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.

Fast forward in time,
To a place that was then,
Transform the mind,
With less than paper penned Zen.
To find a believable center,
That was never quite seen,
No matter the bantered canter,
That pace that was always obscene.
But in the base of your fear,
All aspects are yet forgivable,
How is this an ever lustful portent,
Through prudent eyes so beautiful,
An ever-blending portrait,
But I am no harbinger,
No bringer of the rain,
Nor am I the carpenter,
Or finder of your sane,
I am merely the one left standing,
Standing in sardonically soaked pain,
With very real thoughts,
That I am the one who is insane.

But for love I can't complain....

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.

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...

In the midst of the horizontal black and white
Color is lost vertically within the silence
The ever bleeding captured vibrancies
Taken by those crude color blind tyrants
Fair-weather rainbows shining through the muck
Sailing beyond light stealing clouds
Where happiness colors often get stuck
But the sun still knows the moon
Our bright white in the cold black
For two things so far apart
They sure do interact
In the strangest way…

I.
So long are the thoughts of someone so beautiful
pulled in by a vision of body and mind so young
chasing inspiration to steal the gaze of a woman
like a fire that burns so to a heart seated in passion
and even harder to fight the warmth of attraction,
yet a gentlemen waits until he is given the pleasure.
II.
In a moment, one can see his eyes filled with pleasure
given a glow whilst reflecting something beautiful.
She never shies away from the design of his attraction,
hard to build a foundation on a ground yet so young.
Yet there is no limit, even one such as age, to limit passion,
rarely does time measure wisdom between a girl or a woman.
III.
His pheromones work magic to his beating heart for a woman.
She seeks to be the resting of his desires that fulfill his pleasure.
There is a slow creeping thought that feelings are merely passion,
and there is little but a burning lust rather than something beautiful.
Harder are the connections with the ones who venture young,
but an old soul has the experiences that altered fates attraction
IV.
There are those who walk away from such an attraction
Envisioning a different path with an older woman
Seeing little to gain mentally from a person fairly young
Never realizing that her mind was always his pleasure
Not just intellect, but thoughts that were oh so beautiful,
With words that reflect such a bright heart of passion.
V.
No matter resistances or distances, their connection is their passion.
They write to impress one another, flirting to increase the attraction.
Displaying their hearts for each other in writings so beautiful,
many poems composed for and because of, a certain woman.
Never by touch but a pen evoking feelings with written pleasure,
sharing in a cryptic way the hidden feeling from when young.
VI.
Still one cannot find the power to resistant a flower, young.
Merely looking for a fuel to fire our deepest passion,
never forgetting the strength of giving pleasure.
Baring his shyness to show complicated attraction,
in the pursuit of a hope that she is no ordinary woman.
Like hoping on a sunrise, but knowing it will be beautiful.
VII.
Intricate is the passion in the face of his attraction.
So too is the zeal of the wanting young woman.
Still the greatest pleasure is that she is beautiful.

Built into the inner lining
Like a patchwork with no seam
Stuck in precise timing
Like an engine pumping steam

Atomic structure of an element
A critically complex creation
As the deepest loves lament
Or understanding a nation

One can know a person
But never see their heart
Logic can make us certain
Emotions are where we start

A most complicated aspect
Often characteristics of a love
Never the ones we find perfect
Yet cause the most pain when deprived of...

When storm clouds rain,
it absolutely pours,
and people still walk in and out of stores,
and the sun will shine very soon,
because no matter if it is June,
or possibly May,
a good rainy day can cast your troubles away,
I do not mean the liquid that falls from the sky,
but the kind that are emotions and rush from your eyes,
the things you hold back until no one sees,
the thoughts that eat away at you like a perilous disease,
when all you have to do is release the gates,
just breath out all the hand and body shakes,
listen to your blood move a methodical rhythm,
like the drums of a marching band when the spirit is within them,
push away all your worries and false clad frustration,
and when you stand at the edge of comprehension with egotistical hesitation,
that what you perceive as a cliff was never a fall at all merely the crack of a larger foot print that show you just how small.....you really are...

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.

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

Ride a bolt of lightening far beyond the sea of strange, test your brains limits as you contemplate your mental range.

Sliding down the rabbit hole turning you inside out, trapped in muted screams when all you want to do is shout.

Beware the tap dancing frog and Fox that plays piano, for they may twist a man until he thinks himself soprano.

And never drink the coffee offered by the chess playing bear, for she will have you dumbfounded thinking your body isn't there.

Yet all of this is fair on the liquid lavender expedition, but it all depends on your state of mind and perhaps your whole condition.

No lifetime is spent there even though some are surely trying, you may end your trip in joyful laughing or as some utterly crying.

As the sun passes a million brighter stars, there seems to be no illumination, for space is all black, but when the curtain is pulled back, we can see as if we produce a similar articulation. And as galaxies collide, and gloriously divide, into life more vibrant than ever, to see a nebulae derived from the very death of those bodies.  

But then back on a small planet, the most ridiculous enchantment, this third rock that travels so precarious in its position. With what seems like little transition, but always on the brink of extinction, although never any closer then the day before.

The endless hopes of irresistible dreams, often holding us till we scream, till we breath the air of reasoning, wisdom, truth to find the greater meaning which is offered up as proof. Cause no matter the tools you trade with, or how you chew the fat, the space around you remains black, until the curtain is pulled back.

We search the world for meaning, for universal truth, but we forget to look in front of us, its underneath our boot. The ant that moves your dirt around, the cockroach that shares your food, you shouldn't search for meaning when God treats you like a stool.

A black hole will take the light and never give it back, and this is the same as when murderers attack, for they steal a life and never give it back all things are found in nature, just check your docket stack. But then people are as bright and warm as the sun, and some have the gravitational pull of the largest planets, giving us balance.

The sun was the start and is the end of our glorious existence, which we will never see in our blink of a pittance of life. But the spirit, the soul, that will journey on to systems more bright, we see there is no curtain in sight and we are on an endless flight, where we rise above our spirit.

To a harmonious place with love as the only exchange rate, and hate is left for obvious reasons, but often annoyed, that people have so little joy, in merely gazing up into the ever after. And while ipads are fun, and google sky map has it by the ton, your eyes...are the best judge of amazing.

Look up!!

Underneath the microscope are all the fissures, cracks, and faults.
Trying to find the density of what things matter to us most.
Yet not all aspects have a visible measured weight.
Some may never tip a scale while others make our whole world shake.
We cannot change the way the seconds beat the clock.
Nor can we know the length of a road our feet have never walked.
Stumbling over mental cracks that turn to fissures facing faults.
Are we at the edge, or already falling as we try to magnify what matters to us.

It is the immaculate consternation of my atrocious reputation,
for pulling intellectualism into the gutter.

For the transgressions I accumulated in a iniquitous fashion,
were merely the adoration's of rebellion.

The methodical maintenance of a maniacal mind set,
created in the interpretation of a world that fails to define me.

But I digress from my reasoning to articulate an irrefutable way of believing,
that love, is what started it all.

Infringing on the desolation of the psyche that wants to be free,
but inevitably entraps its own self.

A true Gemini fabulous and terrible, in all their splendor,
are a mass of waling contradictions wrapped in an enigma.

So to say that it is slightly genius, without a tinge of insanity,
would surely be an exercise in futility.  

There are two sides to a coin, a Yin and Yung,
the things that defines us, is being in constant change.

Intuition is strong, but decision not so great,
if I could do half of both choices,
it's a path I'd gladly take.

No longer is there hiding,
no more walking on the fence,
no longer will I settle or be a part of false pretense.

Bore by fire
Born in the flame
Scorched reptilian veins

Blessed in loving pyres
Kindred to an extinguish line
Reforged in the coals of time

Kept secretly hidden in human blood
Merely waiting to awaken the dragon flood

To course through transmogrification 
Becoming a most terrible manifestation

To avenge those held within love
Darkest fears swoop down from above

Should have seen a pleasure caused pain
Now prepare to burn in the flames!