They chatter and bicker, they shriek and they wail,
preach heaven through headlines, through panic for sale.
They conjure up villains, then rewrite the plot,
twist facts into fiction, then swear it’s not.
They march for their causes with signs in their hands,
then torch every city to make their demands.
They scream for their freedoms while begging for chains,
then ask why their suffering circles the drain.
They live in delusion, in comfort they choke,
addicted to outrage, enslaved to the joke.

They click and they swipe, they consume and obey,
then wonder why meaning keeps slipping away.
They trust in the cameras, the filters, the screens,
then wonder why nothing is quite what it seems.
They follow like cattle, they kneel and they cheer,
then cry when their shepherds just feed them to fear.
They buy all the answers, they swallow the lies,
then claim to be woke with their unopened eyes.
They live in a bubble where nothing is real,
where truth is decided by trending appeal.

They gamble their futures on luck and a prayer,
believing in fairness that isn't quite there.
They wait for a savior, a trick, a new pill,
a way to succeed without climbing the hill.
They trust in the system while spitting it back,
then whine when their fortune erodes into lack.
They swear they are rebels while marching in line,
then curse all dissenters for stepping outside.
They live for convenience, for ease, for the show,
but wonder why purpose is something unknown.

Look up from the noise, let the static collapse.
The world isn’t waiting to hand you a map.
No answers are hiding in scrolls or in screens,
just fire in your hands—or the dust in between.

I can't recall what’s real, or if I dream,
A scream resounds within, though silence seems
To choke my voice, to halt my every plea,
This hollow stillness smothers what’s left of me.

Love has left me battered, torn, and blind,
Awaking to a world I cannot find,
A shattered self with nothing left to hold,
Pain’s cruel embrace is all that’s uncontrolled.

I hold my breath and wish for endless sleep,
Oh, God, deliver me, my soul to keep.

Back in the dark, I feel too much to bear,
A pulse, a life, but none to grant me care,
The future’s gone, the present’s just a haze,
I wait for peace in the quiet, lost days.

Fed by memories, my body now a shell,
A love-grown relic in this living hell,
Bound to the wires, with no way to flee,
I long to sever this from what remains of me.

I hold my breath and wish for sweet release,
Oh, God, bring me a moment’s peace.

The world is gone; it’s just a distant hum,
And I, alone, wish for the day to come,
I hold my breath and pray for mercy’s touch,
Oh, God, I’ve suffered far too much.

Darkness closes in, I’m trapped inside,
My eyes have failed, my voice has died,
My mind is broken, a fractured plea,
No life, no death, just this eternity.

Love has stolen my sight, my voice, my sound,
It took my heart, my soul, and left me bound—
A hollow man, in hell without a name,
A prisoner of this never-ending pain.

Fire's breath on canvas,
Illusive, cruel to adeath,
Whispers pierce the night.

Loom threads lies unseen,
Velvet dusk with molten glow,
Earth hums tales below.

Dark symphony calls,
Void swallows, leaving its mark,
Shadows in the field.

Winds howl through the wild,
Vigil kept beneath the sky,
Heart dares to take flight.

To watch the clear night skies, with what words and with which poem or brush can I at last shine a light on the mind of the searcher,  
  
With what can I explicitly explain the divinity and sacredness of the stars of which cannot be seen, knowing with a depth of certainty they are there without changing the meaning,  
  
How do I express myself when magnificence is just something wrapped in mediocrity in fair comparison, when searching to expose the truth and beauty of nature in the things that I cannot explain,  
  
To try and explain a clear night sky, is to trace unseen paths, with words that last less than a minute in time or a shadow cast by the silhouettes of stars upon stars,  
  
Sewn in threads so faint, they evade the light  
and yet brilliant, unbending, and alive.  
  
With what can you completely explore the hidden things one can not see, What words, then, can unravel this weave of the universe?  
  
What poem might pour out the shimmering sparkle that in a glance would be more words brushed carefully across the empty canvas, whose gaze rides the waves of darkness, endlessly longing for a gleam beneath the calm?  
  
And in that patient dark, we find with no voice to map it, no line to confine it, the hidden things, gliding just beyond our reach,  
whispering what cannot be spoken, all nestled within an untouched piece of paper,  
  
O to draw out the truths of beauty and nature,
that escape us in daylight, that defy our senses when only ink and the quiet hand remain on wordless scroll.  
  
Always searching to expose the truth and beauty and nature of things that we try explain with words.

https://youtu.be/7Nr5B_xcbMg

We need no intro

These ******* wanna act like they don’t see the game,
Blind to the system,
they livin’ inside of a chains,
They got you distracted with the money,
cars and the fame,
who ya blame ?
But I see the ones pullin’ strings in the back of the frame,
calling your name,
ain't that a shame.
They poison the food an water,
they be lacin’ the sky with the fumes,
Twistin’ the news so the truth is erased from the room, Kaboom
Tellin’ you lies while they tighten the noose on your neck,
ah ha the terrorist in your head ?
******* control you through fear and a check, check check one two then what you gonna do, while government putting the screws in you
History’s twisted, they shift it,
they bury the fact,
never lacking attacking ******* keep macking,
They censor the rebels with the decimal with the decibels and never let real ones react in fact,
They keep us divided, ignitin’ the fire of hate,
trying to make you brake,
sneering, what's fake
******* be smilin’ while sealin’ our fate, no debate
They taxin’ your breath,
got you workin’ from cradle to grave,
Promise you freedom but keep you a government slave.
They poison your mind,
while they shackle your body in chains,
******* in power just laughin’,
they playin’ these games.
They burn all the books, they been twistin’ the history page,
Drownin’ the facts in a system that’s built like a cage.
They tell you to trust in the rules that they break,
But ******* got secrets they never explain.
They start up the wars, then they send you to die in their name,
While they countin’ their money and watchin’ you drown in the flames.
Every election’s a trick,
it’s a show,
it’s a play,
Same ******* be smilin’ while diggin’ your graves
They keep you distracted with *******, with dollars and pills,
Hopin’ you never wake up, to the system they built.
They censor the voices who tell you the truth,
******* be scared when we step in the booth.
They own all the money, the banks, and the land,
They killin’ the culture and takin’ the brand.
They tell you it’s safe, but they lyin’ instead,
Feedin’ you cancer, then taxin’ the dead.
They floodin’ the hood with the dope and the guns,
Then fillin’ the prisons with daughters and sons.
They teachin’ you not to be strong or be bold,
They want you obedient, easy to mold.
These ******* be watchin’ your every **** move,
Tappin’ your phone,
got a bug in the room.
The drones, politicians,
they using’ machines,
They pushin’ the scripts and they sellin’ you dreams.
They trackin’ your steps through the chip in your hand,
Controllin’ the world with a digital scan.
They keepin’ you poor while they printin’ the cash,
Takin’ your house and they kickin’ your ***.
They tell you to follow,
to listen,
obey,
But real ******* ain’t livin’ that way.
We see through the smoke,
we can tell it’s a lie,

We ready for war—ain’t no fear in our eyes.

Before you sleep my beautiful one,
Don't let sleep be jealous of your beauty,
Let us walk hand in hand down to the ocean,
Let the moonlight guide our way to the shore.

Let passion be a journey into love's depth,
As we walk, let night air consume us,
As the heavens spark with soft, gentle light.
Let the stars bathe us in their bright aura.

I want to hear the silence of each footprint
As we walk across the golden sand.
Your breath is of sweet delight.
Oh my love, hold my hand tight;
Never let it go as we walk in the shadow of the moon.

You spark and ignite every inch of my desire!
Let's stop for a minute and watch the ocean.
The time is upon us, let us absorb the moment.

The stars in the sky call your name softly,
And the sands dance on your perfect feet.
What stillness in the enormous heavens,
And what whispers of harmony we share.

In this timeless moment, I pull you close,
Your soft locks of hair through my hand,
Never have I felt such fleeting thrills!
Every desire crying loudly in silent echoes.

The night feels more lovely than the day;
It writes in a forbidden language of its own,
Eternal words through silent speech
The infinite name of Love!

You are my only lover, my fire burns for you!
You are my full and every desire!
Let us become one and hold each other.
The nights are dark, but our hour is everlasting!

Fingertip reaches—rose glass-fractured sky,
but the world keeps turning, indifferent, blind.
We watch, we wait, we sift through the fallen ashes—
searching for warmth in a fire long gone.

Ghosts of wanting drift through the ebb,
feet sinking in time’s marrow-thick river.
Clawing at the hilltop, slipping, gasping—
but do we climb or just fall slower?

Love hums then shatters,
echoes down corridors we dare not tread.
The oaken river swallows its dead,
birds fall southward, wings brittle with regret.

Winter comes for all—darkness too.
Light flickers, just out of reach,
a mirage for the desperate, the reckless,
those who still run, still chase, still bleed.

But what if the answers unravel the mind?
What if understanding breaks us instead?
What if we lose ourselves,
seeking someone else to make us whole?

Is life’s significance just a joke told in passing,
laughter drowned in the howl of the void?
If misery loves company,
why do so many stand alone?

Listen to War With Myself - Malcolm Gladwin by Malcolm Gladwin on #SoundCloud

https://on.soundcloud.com/rWsh6UA9FXEgY8Nh7


Shadows keep creeping in deep,
Battling demons,
misleading my reason,
they scream in the dark when I sleep
Drowning in echoes,
the voices are vicious,
they slither,
they tighten,
they reap,
Falling in cycles,
I struggle for silence, the war in my mind cuts too deep
Trapped in a cage of regret
Chained to the burdens I never forget
Poisonous venom,
it runs through my veins,
Lies in my ear keep appearing, they steer me, they whisper, they pull and restrain
War with myself, and I’m caught in the fire, still burning, refusing to break,
Lost in the fight
Nowhere to hide,
when I hide I'm blind
I been waging this war,
but I’m losing myself,
every battle keeps dragging me down
Every step that I take is a weight on my chest, and my soul is still trapped underground
I been waging this war, but I’m losing myself, every battle keeps dragging me down
Every step that I take is a weight on my chest, and my soul is still trapped underground
Falling but never let go,
Wrestling doubt while I’m counting the cuts that been carving their way through my soul
Locked in a prison of thoughts,
I’ve been caught in the cycle,
the damage unfolds
Carrying burdens in vain, but the pain is the fuel for the battles I hold
Wounds that I hide in my flesh,
Cutting me deeper with every regret,
Drowning in silence,
I scream without sound
Falling in spirals,
survival is vital, but all of the weight pulls me down,
War with myself, and I’m lost in the shadow, the fight isn’t over, I drown
Stuck in the past
Nothing will last
Fear is a ghost in my head,
Looking for answers, but all that I find is the weight of the words that I’ve bled
Falling through nightmares,
I fight with the silence, the echoes, they push me instead
Building a kingdom of wisdom, but burning it down every night till it’s dead
Sick of the cycle, it stays
Sick of the war that keeps dragging my name
Sick of the mirror that breaks when I stare
Fading to black while my past keeps attacking, the weight of it hangs in the air
War with myself, and I fight till my knuckles are shattered and blood stains the ground
Nowhere to run
Nowhere but down
I been waging this war, but I’m losing myself, every battle keeps dragging me down
Every step that I take is a weight on my chest, and my soul is still trapped underground
I been waging this war, but I’m losing myself, every battle keeps dragging me down
Every step that I take is a weight on my chest, and my soul is still trapped underground
Maybe the fire was fate
Maybe the pain was the lesson I needed to sharpen the blade that I take
Maybe the war isn’t something to fear but the reason I’m built to create
Maybe the battle inside is the spark that can push me to open the gate
Maybe the past isn’t gone
Maybe the weight is what made me this strong
Maybe the chaos is where I belong
Maybe the war isn’t over, but now I can see that I’m more than the wrong
Maybe the voices don’t own me, they showed me the struggle was worth it to climb
Still standing tall
Ready to fight

Bone-silted river bleeds backward,
tide-swallowed and unspooled,
coffin-seamed decades slouch against a cindered skyline—
time, a lichen-laced beast, starved-thin and echo-lost,
chewing the wax-dripped minutes that slip like marrow through dusk.

Iron-tasting hours blister against frost-scabbed bones,
flesh-stitched days unravel, splinter-throated and root-bound,
where clock-hands wilt, tendon-thin and grave-damp,
melting into brine-brittle pools beneath sun-scoured echoes.

Fog-clot visions smear across the moth-blurred dawn,
where hours, once ember-warmed, now lurch husk-heavy,
drift-staggered through hollow-gnawed winter’s crooked teeth,
grinding time into dust, whispering hearth-ruined lullabies.

Mildewed seconds slouch in the tomb-hushed lull,
glass-limbed and unspooled, a slow-rotting memory,
half-woken, slipping between the cracks of lichen-laced skin—
and here I remain,
splintering beneath time’s indifferent weight.

Welcome, dear soul, to the fiery embrace,
Where pleasure and sin find their rightful place.
Forget what you’ve heard, the lies they’ve spread
Hell’s not torment; it’s where life’s truly led.

Lust and desire aren’t vices to shame,
They’re art forms perfected in passion’s flame.
A dance of bodies, a feast of the flesh,
In Hell, these pleasures are always fresh.

Heaven may promise a cloud and a harp,
But its paradise is tepid, stale, and sharp.
No touch, no taste, no thrill of the chase
Just hymns on repeat in a sterile space.

Gluttony’s king in this molten domain,
With endless banquets and wine that won’t wane.
Greed’s not a crime but a game we adore
Dive into gold, there’s always more.

Envy and wrath? They fuel our fun,
Competitive flames under the devil’s sun.
Pride? Oh darling, we’ve mastered the art,
In Hell, self-love is the beating heart.

And let’s not forget our master below,
Lucifer, charming, with a radiant glow.
No ruler of chains, but a host with finesse,
Inviting you in with a wink and a jest.

Meanwhile in Heaven, they whisper and pray,
Clinging to halos that tarnish each day.
What do they do? Does anyone know?
All we’ve heard is “harps” and a dull golden glow.

Angels pretend it’s the place to reside,
But secretly sneak to our wild side.
Gabriel sings at our endless soirees,
While cherubs peek through Hell’s fiery haze.

So step through the gates and leave guilt behind,
In Hell, you’re free to indulge the mind.
Heaven can keep its rigid façade
Down here, we honor the lives you’ve led flawed.

Eternity’s waiting, the flames softly roar,
Welcome to Hell, your new, thrilling decor

What is poetry but a history of the human heart,
its joys and aches woven through time,
a thread of truth spun by countless hands.
All poets speak the same language,
wrestling with the same restless spirits:
fear, love, death, longing, adventure, failure.
We are seekers of what lies beneath,
hunters of shadows and light.

The pleasure of rhythm,
the echoes of sound—
words that feel more
and mean better.
We stretch them across the silence,
carry them from the known
to the uncharted,
wild, unhinged,
and alive.

Oh, how we long to hold poetry in our marrow,
to store every verse,
each fleeting line,
this romance with time.
We write for ourselves,
yet always for strangers,
hoping they find pieces of themselves
in the fragments of our truths.

Why do you read my words?
When your gaze is indifferent to me,
do you stay because they hold something real?
Do you feel comfort
or hear connection
in the quiet rhythm of the page,
as your eyes trace the spaces between lines?

Or is it because we love poetry
more than we love ourselves?
Because it sits uniquely,
where silence was—
a placeholder for longing.
These words,
small as they are,
stretch farther than the edges of this page.

When you saw the title, did it call you?
Did it offer a whisper, a welcome,
a taste of something untasted,
a key to a door of simple lines?
How did two words pull you near—
two words that opened
the depths of this moment,
this offering,
this memory of the human heart?

Solitary spark,
Threaded through fate’s silent loom,
Veiled in silver dusk.

Held in fleeting dream,
Breath and hunger gild its chains,
Flesh, a borrowed home.

Gossamer unwinds,
Light unlaces night’s embrace,
Echoes drift like mist.

Nothing fades, but folds,
Rivers cradle their own gaze,
Waves return to sea.

Form, a fleeting name,
Time’s light touch reshapes and molds,
Yet I still remain.

This is how it is and how it has always been - Always ...

A flash of light,
sharp, broken glass underfoot,
her smile
captive, electric, a god's cruel gift
glows in the fog,
flickers, trembles,
an untamed star
lost in the city's steel veins.
But what is beauty if it drips from the mouth of ghosts,
whispering her name in silence?

She stands,
a flame scattered across the concrete sky
softer than any dream that burns the soul,
wilder than what we pretend to touch.
Do you remember how her voice shivers through you,
cracked vinyl spinning memories,
dust, decay, and heat?
Gods do not look this way;
they cower behind the scent of burning roses.

Her fingers wrap around the world,
each movement violent with grace,
but I see the dark beneath
that sweetness,
and I wonder if love is the rope
she ties around herself
or the knife she drives through the hearts
of the lost.

Her laugh is a fracture in time,
a moment too pure,
too much,
that I swallow whole
like acid, burning my throat.
What do we call that
when nothing left feels real?
When her eyes turn,
and the night begins again—
silent, dark,
and heavy as broken wings?

But I cannot forget
the way her spirit
ignited the ruins of me
one smile, one movement,
a blaze too fierce to die,
too pure to touch without ruin.

Do you remember the sky when she passed
how it bent
and bled for her?

And yet, she is gone.
She always was.
An illusion,
a creation of something I cannot hold.
But God, how she burned.