I am a number, numb-er than the dumber thumbs on top of me.

A puppet to appease, the appetites of kings, meagerly squalling over nothing.

All i see, is stupidity staring back at me, in a hall of mirrors.

If not to tempt the temperaments of lesser men, I shall bludgeon the object of our obsessions again, just to watch the reddened britches go un-itched, as my grinning is met with dissatisfaction, impacting the over expressed whining of gentle wimps, flailing, and stomping as disgruntled chimps, flinging feces from the cages again.

Diluted in fluency
Whirling through a world

A canary in a coal mine
Burning the oil

Sashes of solubles
Solvents of solidarity

Emptied cages
Gleaming from a cave

I want to carve my arms in the pantheon of gods, inhale flames, and exhale smog.

I want to breathe in acidic dreams, in ping, to the great unclean one.

I want to blot out the sun, in the shadow of the one, and only enemy.

I want to eat the flesh, of the brilliant, and the best, resilient to the test, of monotony.

Fill me up, of all the stuff, that dreams are made of.

Drain me out, in the altar of doubt, and arm me with the love of your deities.

Sing on
And on
And on

Sing along

Sing the song
You know
To be
Wrong

Remember
The words
And forget
Them all

Every one

Everyone
Is gone
But
Seen

And heard
Here
Now

Allow
The
Hollow
In

Take
My hand
And
Follow
Me

To
The
Filth

Im tired
Of dumbing
Down

Im better
To let
It out

Let the chips fall
Where they may

Im trying
To stay
Afloat

Im trying
To find
A rope

To climb out
But its too high now

Im too high now
Waiting for the water to rise

Im trying
To speak
Clearly

Im trying
But growing
Dreary

Im tired
And getting
Weaker

Im better
Down here
In the mud

My love is a river that dried up
Just enough to reach the edge

Im better
To have
Suffered

Im better
To have
Recovered

Im tired
Of trying
For better

In the mud
Where love
Was a river
I couldn't
Live up to

Where love
Is the river
Of blood
And youth

Dried up
To the banks

Uplift me in scars
Shower me in shame

I will be the man i'm meant to be

Sinking
Floating

Defining
Denoting

My love
And my suffering
Make me

Make me
Beautiful
In the pain

Make me
***
In the river
Of my love

Dry me out
Make me drown
In the mud

Give me
An epiphany
A reason
To wake

Give me
A Realization
A season
To forsake

Give me
Subtle smiles
As you walk away
Just anything

Anything
For a swing
At the chance
Of a better man

I'm myself now
Any days for dreaming

I'm myself now
Anyway i'm dreaming

Give me
A something
An antidote
To cope with doubt

Give me
Earplugs
To drown
The voices out

Give me
Variety
To outmaneuver
My anxiety

Anything
But this
Numbing
Darkness

Just take me over there
To that other place

Just take me over there
Away from this place

Give me
Something
Anything
To wake

I wake to dream
I dream to wake

Strip it all
Peel it back
Shed the skin
Start all over again
Solo siren
In the wind
Whaling
To the blade
And its okay
Its okay
I'm okay
Again
And
Again
Against
The wind

My friend
Shes knows too many ends
She gave up again
For nothing
To tear apart
Her fragile heart
In plastic ideologies
Shes fights her dichotomies
Walking away
From everything
Even the happy
I love her anyway
Even when i'm empty
From the first day
I saw her frays
The first day
I knew pain
Her pain
As mine
We don't have to
Walk alone
But will
I don't have to
Sing alone
But do
Fading to blue
From black
Take me back
To grey
Where im safe
In the safety
Of fate
Fading
To grey
In this place
Of yesturday
Plucked away
In a song of greying

When she mad
She mad
At me

When she sad
She sad
With me

When she happy
She happy
Without
Me

Friend zoned
Friend zzuh-oh-oh-oh
Owned

She is happier
Compared
To me

She is happier
Than i could
Bare to be

Friend zoned

Eclipse me
In your cryptic peaks
lift my breath away
Stray from the black
Kiss, and pull back
Into the nothing
leave nothing
But freezing oceans
And silent screaming
Upon the seas
Of ghostly ruin

Pull me up
Push me down
Same time
Same place
**** it all any way

From the filth
From the flame
Into the well
Into the shame
**** it all any way

Unchanged
Estranged
Deranged
Profane
**** it all any way

Vacant
Vagrant
Strengthened
Awakened
**** it all any way

The shepherds are killing the sheep, right down the street in barrages of automatic weaponry with no screams, just armor and clenched teeth, in the land of the free, home of the brave, decaying dreams, and police raids.

My love was a fire that burnt the edges of my book, spreading to the binding, then from the inside, the flames licked outwardly toward my breath, filling my lungs until black was all that was left.

Ashes brushed aside. I stood with crusted eyes that questioned the surmise, to my late arrival.

Reprisal programmed in the map of my survival, vital to the plans for standing, and rejecting everything I've known, and i have grown in the pain, that has formed my strange demeanor.

My felonious ways, plead behind misdemeanors, for the leaner sentences of my commitments to commence upon the trenches of sheltered fakes, measured, divided, and placed in places to judge the taste of my waste.

Be my guest.

In the end, my eyes may only close, but for what?, i suppose is the question one beholds, when emboldening to a mold, made by simpletons.

If only seen by eyes that see, and only heard by ears that hear, then i will mime my way to yesterday, while laughing at our mistakes.

Its a fragile balancing act, to stay on track, with all these attractions detracting from my distractions impact, on the blurring depictions of pictures burned in fictions past.

She was bad ***, fat ***, roller derby girl, consuming everything, even her world.

My guitar, its missing a string, that randomly plings while i'm sleeping, and so I'll wake, and play, until we weaken back to sleep.

I wrote a note in coke that spoke to my morning self, but blew it, never knew of it, and moved right through it unscathed.

It was the candy kids who danced regardless of the weather, and i am better to have watched them die up there, so very close to the sky.

I see circles defined by squares in cyphers deciphered from tongues gone silent, patiently waiting for the next man to hear.

We bantered of finer flings, as we toasted with our moistened teeth, but had seen better rings on stronger trees, swaying in the breeze of the oncoming traffic.

She found me there, killing time in scribbled lines of other times long gone, with song after song, longing for the wrong things, she chose me anyway, and blanked into the day to day pages faded in disappearing ink, that remained incomplete, until i left her there, staring into the sheets that i shrank into.

Sheriff has his feet up
Outlaw rides a path
Deputy is cleanin up
***** draws a map

Of a tumble ****
Tumbelin down the street

Where the fields a burnin
And the wells are dry
And the blacks burnin
The curious eyes

Of a crow perched on a fence
wheat hangin from its beak

Where bones are speakin
From a barn ablaze
Old man speakin
From the flames

I wake without sleep, as numeric patterns, and geometric shapes form my place in a state of diabolatry, from deep below the normal feelings, merging the once dichotomies of my indifference.

Something is just different now.

I have fallen just beyond the facing, of a star that has traveled so far to sing, in scrambled signals, and heated beams, pushing unto me.

I breathe in the toxicity of knowing something, i could not possibly perceive, as a certain grief, fills me, and dies inside.

A dread i cannot appease in knowing that i must do something, but how, but what, but soon i must move to submit to it, regardless of the rift that builds on my broken will, in dispassionate force.

I am someone else, looking back from the portals of my trust, and i have found a secret between all of us, hoping that ill tell myself, before i **** myself on the other side, in another time, from my hell that reaches up, embracing my fear in a meaninglessness that means so much more..

I cannot put my finger on it, until it feeds me more, but the horror is prevalent, and it pours into the holes inside of me, as the empty feelings rise from my naivety, unable to be ignored anymore.

Covered in sweat, and adorned in regrets, that i have never known as of yet, as i once slept to dream, i now dream, to wake, taking nothing with me, but this.

Your pain
Its perfect
So pretty
When you hurt

Your hurt
So patient
Feeling silly
When you smirk

You're a fool
To love me
Without showing

You're an idiot
To forsake me
Not knowing it

So beautiful
When you
Are blue

******* love you
Wish you knew

All i see is you

It is not to capture moments, as moments are lost in passing, but it also cannot be the embrace of the future, as the future lapses the present, and falls in passing as well, but it is the present where our gods live, limited only by our imagination, and will that can propel us into being exactly where we intend to be.

living.

It is not for everybody.

I will not hide despite the cameras in the sky, nor will i fear the satellites or Internet spies, and i will fight, and i will fight, as to not comply to the lies that co-hearse the norm, into standing idly by, in malformed, and twisted histories, twisting history, into a pearled vision of ministries giving eulogy, to enemies of the light, using light to blind the masses, before the flashes of infertility begin emanating from the cities, under the unity of, We The People, turned predator, under better sedatives that are better delivered, straight to the dream, or belief, of, or in anything.

Dare to dream, turn a blind eye to everything, or just something else, assigned children, or stolen wealth, while warmly held, in foggy hostilities, of those you rarely see, while soldiers of the peace, protect the streets, with covered faces, and powder burned fingers, lingering just out of reach, from the stones that burn the armored cars SAWing through the crowds, with the pulsing sound, of a million hell hounds, hell bound, machine gunning the bodies on the ground, for the pale riders, feeding on the dark horse, on course for a four course meal, leaving hopeless poses, of crying corpses, ashing in the wind of their trail.

Its our blood of defeat that lines the streets with the feed for the beast, as well as that same blood that feeds our victory, as we shall be exactly on time for the end, and the beginning.

Pale skin, thin hair, foggy eyes, and fragile limbs, as showing ribs heave in the neon lit engine room, of a cruise ship lost in the deep.

In the distance, a planet shines, setting the coordinates, the reprise activates their minds, as they collectively decide, to call it Earth.

Boiling up to the surface, my flesh cracked, teeth grit, and my eyes forced back, as the searing heat, outwardly breathed, with arched back, heaving energy into the sky, shattering the projected dreams from a rusted machine, in the heart of a vast wasteland, where we arose, and saw for the first time.

Critical mass approaching in stoical exploding of feelings peeling off with the old flesh.

I'll cry myself to sleep if not just to keep the memory alive, thriving in the spite of a dual life fighting itself for its rites to righteousness, where the opposition is also right, in purifying infighting, for a light so bright, that my fragile eyes shall burn in its embrace, a sound of truth so profound, that my ears numb in the pound of drums as i look on blindly and deaf, pointing at the cliffs you want so much.

The misunderstanding is in trying to understand, standing next to lamps in the dark, afraid to embark into the unknown, knowing that knowing is knowing nothing while still quietly judging, but its something to embrace, something to fill the hole, that gently pulls it all into my guts, carrying the burdens with my clutch on the unheard of.

I walk a path of fear with masks to disguise my lies with truth to help me through the illusion of you, holding my hand along the way.

The path is finite, and all encompassing, as it fluctuates into something more appeasing for my needing of a dream to light the way, with telescopic tears, and blinding happies, i'm learning things i already knew.

I am not so sure that i can die. My death to you, to me, could be, just opening my eyes to another day, and everything is fine.

Time, it is an illusion of the mind, a projection of consumption for compliance to the sights bent in the light.

We cannot all defy the odds every time, but we do, pulling through the worse yet, and still on top, yet we elect to thank invisible men, but its us, it is you, it is me, embracing a dominant reality, where your only consciousness can be.

Every moment looping infinitely through eternity, now if only i could be, where i was happy.

Break me
Cut me
Kiss me
Dead

I dont want it
Any other way

**** me
**** me
Take me
There

I dont want to be
Anywhere else

Feel me
Hear me
Touch me
Nice

I dont wanna
Reroll the dice

Strut me
Front me
Back me
Up

I dont want you
Just giving up

Go there
Go go gadget
Go-go boots

I dont want you
Blinded by truths

I expected marching columns of men, beside roaring tanks, with soaring bombers above, but it was the half men who slithered within the systems, manipulated the programs, poisoned the food, and diluted the truths, that beat us within our gates.

I guess you caught me
I'm softer than i used to be
And i'm singing
As loud as i can

I guess you know now
How my love has come about
And i'm happy to have had been
I'm a happy has been

Forever and again

And i guess you've heard it all before
You have heard it all over
Heard it all again and again
Until it doesn't hurt at all

I guess you found a light in there
I'm still sifting around
And i am still singing
Singing

As loud as i can

Forever will i remember the letters.
The blood, ***, and the glitter, as i kissed her with thinning blood, and a fragile heart, forever inside her, but apart.

If i ever die, and get to travel through time, i would find you when i met you, and say everything i meant to, one last time.

Slap me silly
Tell me
Whats really
Happening

Cuss at me
Laugh with me
Tap me
When its my turn

I will flirt with you
Until you're ******
When you try to yell
I will try to kiss

Just forget this
Mad business
And start this
Making up bit

Mulched frequencies spearing through me, glistening in the pitching, squealing through my hearing, causing my eyes to see glitches, zilching from scrambled beams, materializing in infants dreams, rearranging the seam lines of the confines planted by parents vacant-ed, by undermining slave ships, of merchants, rubbing their grubby hands together.

Everythings better burned, in smoke steeps spiraling as far as the eye can see, swallowing fluffy smotherings of blue skies disguised as storm clouds, shrouding the loud, and obnoxious crowds of clowns squeezing noses while folding balloon roses, before exposing notions of permanence and relevance to pin you to their settlement of fools.

Happy, sad or just cool, i want simply nothing, but a blank face in my place of power, where the spent can cower in nothingness, blissfully lifting us above the smog, in godless pause before the blast of evolution, passed in through the degradation of chromosomes through polluted wombs to mossing tombs on bleeding wounds that never healed.

Sealed in a shield of yieldless peeling of my world for a gift so great, the stake is felt across the world in a ripple of love that whirls into the winds of life, and twirls into the sky, igniting a sight so great that everyone dies, as we rise again for the first time, in blue sunlight so bright that we absorb the light, and emanate it in the night, shining in fightless insight, of a universe that flys through a forest of unknowns.

I'll be you
Like a dream
Without belief

I'll be you
Unto me
Unhappy

I'll be you
To see you
Through me

I'm you
Slowly
Collapsing

In fantasy

A chello in his head
Seranading the depths
Of all he ever met
And all he ever said
To king and country
Dead

Fading into the sunset

He stared through the jagged glass, as it dangled from a window frame that overlooked the overgrowth in the same place he buried change as a kid.

The remembrance of hope, love, and innocence danced into his grin, as he licked a single flame onto the drapes, and waited for the tears to pull in.

He was closing the door.

One last time.

I once dreamed of a blue sun that shone upon muddy streets, as drones policed the abandoned buildings of a fallen society.

Today, i saw a drone in the rain, while a blind man begged for change, and this strange feeling from the way the light shone.

I don't know what the future holds, but know that the people are cold, and getting colder, and i'm getting older, so i'm folding, and buying another gun.

This message
It will self destruct

This message
It deconstructs

This message
An eruption
Of my consumption
Of the bad

My feel bads
For damage done
With an empty gun
In hand

Collect the shells
Sweep the scraps
It dont matter
Who was first
But last

We all cast shadows
Here and now
From frown
To pout

We all go out
Like *******

There he go again
Making it weird
Embarrassing himself
Or so he heard

Hes drinking again
Mixing his verbs
Burning oils
And being a perv

Hes singing again
Spinning a tale
Writing apologies
The best he knows how

Hes on the prowl again
Watching the crowds
Choosing his targets
And punching the scowls

Off their faces

Imaginary adversaries are emanating from the alcohol to facebook walls, in temporary solutions for the vibes polluting my constitution, in the willful regrets atop my onset of contempt itching my temples cleft in my futures vision of itself.

I am myself and to no-one else do i answer unto hallow cancers ******* my bones away, and my mind astray in the straight laced fates of the other players who played their cards right, the same.

I go all in with the pocket deuces, atop intrusive verbal abuses, serving useless satire to the tired faces of try hards, bleeding of inadequacy.

Im a runon and on sentence of rambling weaponous vapors from the fragrant flatulence breaking from deflating colons, swollen like Noland's ego, when hes drunk and grumbling about life, lolling as he whines of the wines flavor, savoring the bitter for betterment of the sweet, neatly wrapped in sheets of plastic for later.

It always starts like this
They beg for violence
But when they get it
They want me to quit
They think i'm a ******
But its them
It is them
Tis them
That beckon
The beast

The text message

Poetry, to me is an eventuality of a mastery that is happily, or even tragically achieved, a seething, a reeling, a shining, a realizing of parts of our heart that depart and grow on their own accord.

The poet, to me is void of belief, and of whatever we think he or she should be, as they are likely a muse to somebody doing the same things, just needing a little commonality, before turning the complexity into a simplicity that even you can read.

The poem, to me is simply the spilling of ink, on blank sheets that loudly state their names before they leave, but explicitly received by shaking hands, and fading feelings, reminiscent of waking to forgetting dreams while brushing your teeth.

Its all any god ****** thing you will it to be really, and the poets are anyfuckingbody that lies, or speaks honestly, or even in between, even serious going all the way to silly, back to romantic, and stopping on scary, as it is all fairly subjective, to our positive, or negative perspectives.

It is merely what you make of it.

And it, well it is life, it is living, it is giving, it is taking, its making hearts feel at home when they are all alone.

Its leaving them the **** alone when they spill their guts, when they give their *****, and strut their lumps.

Its comparing cuts, and trophies, while soaking in the ****, and learning something you never knew of.

Its shutting the **** up when you speak, so you can hear yourself think.

Its being a **** for the hell of it, from a life of dissatisfied self entitlements.

Its a ****, but not a *****, a ****, but not a lord, it is a delicate, fragile animal, to be adored.

It is everything
Every thing
Everybody
Every zing
Every song
Every painting
Every smile
Every frown
Every up
Every
D
O
W
N

Every in
Every out
Every hope
And every doubt

Every enemy
And every friend

It is every beginning
And every end

It is formlessness
In decent
Ascending
Contempt

It is poetry
And at the end of the day
Its all that's left

My everything