What's become of the solace I once sought? I've chased her for years through infinite lives in endless miles. She's eluded me. Rebuffed my advances, ridiculed my existence like cornerstone trash. Cobbled footprints structure within a dark memory for garden over the soft years gone by. Lost, alone and forgotten, trampled with no quarter. Laying deeply within this hole I concede defeat within the soft shallows which embrace the emptiness that was once hope.

I took a line from a book and twisted it around my brain hoping to clarify these obscure sequences that have no order that just congragate under the soil of your nails fabricating a forgotten plot to freedom, a plight in the hour of celebration under the nights sun. Bathe my sweet in the oils of desire, join the frayed ends of life's consequences, of times forgotten song whispered in tomorrow's breeze. Forget reality and her breeding in the basements of America, forget reason, embrace the sanity of the insane. Come to the new grass and lay bleeding for time, for the Lost eyes of instinct. Gather the creatures of yesterday and slaughter the heros of today in a ritualistic offering to no one. Bring the gods they all so cherish, let them speak their defense to the defenseless, let them plea bargain their right to rule my will, my sight, my freedom in the universal sorrow of weeping souls bleeding slow deaths in our sheltered concubine.

So I see whith closed eyes,
I can't help but taste tears gently cried. Truth be told wish I died can't you see it was me I couldn't hide. I just don't fit into this world, nothing like these boys and girls. Never define that piece of mind only within a perfect world so I sit here all alone now this shell became my home. I want you please just comfort me through my eyes you can never see will never be. Hope you know that all these tears have you drowned my fears locked inside, please help me open my eyes take my hand trying to understand I wish I tried almost died. I can drag this on and on it wouldn't change this tragic song if I find that piece of mind maybe soon I can be gone what went wrong?

Rivers and canals weave there way inducing meditative contemplation of the delicate forces that govern this Earth. So violently beautiful in their soft movement, serene, invigorating. I am surrounded, envisioning a soft ride to Nirvana within this flow. I açhe, long for meaning, abolishing religious views forced. I desecrate your Christ for his failure, his illusionary tale all have bought. I pity the desperation so rampantly spread, an airborne contagion. I laugh at the book of of lies you live by to provoke reaction, see disgust, feel the loathing. I use holy water to inject misery. The one called Christ has yet to stop suffering as I fall towards the river cradling this cancer stricken çhild. Floating on pride realizing I am the power all seem to crave. I am the universal dream unseen, the tree which bares no fruit, the water,grass. I am a  insect begging for survival, a clown in search of laughter, a parasite in search of a host, the leaf which falls upon the earth within the nights silence. I am decomposition which takes life, the horror which terrorizes the children at night, the silent scream, tortured dream, I am insomnia. I am  death, breath, Agony vrand the Joy of a newborns eyes of wonder. I am the river that flows at my feet, the blindness to truth. I am but a current of life an all encompassing understanding. I am serenity in all her glory, cancer in remission leaving you wondering, a martyr sacrificing sacrificing time in a sTeal cages to search for answers to unasked questions finding truth in self, terrified within this soft shell tears forming entrails to feed upon the hatred of fear.
         A ruler lost in a kingdom sadness. The rapids spell a violent reprisal from this grazed Field, my body weakened by disease a flow I can't endure much longer. The beauty, the violence coexist so perfectly balanced. This river offers everything yet nothing, offers a soft bank to rest my weary head and contemplate the poppies soft promise of grandeur.

Forward this recluse to the front lines of society a pen is his only weapon karma is the only escape. Wielding it in blinded fear a new wilderness lies before him. I feel gift for I am this a weapon against self. I choose in reason karma hide when need me karma I fasten this pain to finger you crawl out exposing my true self tearing flesh from bone creating a portal to see, to be. I will fight on the inside **** I will cry and lie to myself judging you for you for me. I will throw glass throat this Glass House and expect nothing to break, blending you when it does. In introverted crown my masks impenetrable karma my God heavily-armed poised for attack when you blink throwing questions at question. Tears stain my cheek as you walk by. I use my weapon when I'm alone karma I sit with myself nice off couch what a comfortable Stone karma Caesar's grass bring oceanic scented insights into an oil stained mill City. I'm asking myself questions taking notes and watching. I bask in the bountiful harvest of knowledge display before before us all each and every day weather it's the body floating down the canal the soft Moon blooming Jasmine in the springing months my eyes water yeah my flow is uncontrolled.

I bought a ticket to cruelty only to find out it had no redeeming value.

Regret the regrets and forget to forget. A compound fracture in thought a delicate ****** bought. Confusion, delusion, an exclusion from reality within a surreal moment alone lost, tossed into this vast wilderness of shame. Trees tear flesh from bone, all my heroes have been thrown dead into tomorrow as I realize today is but yesterday's sunset still burning my eyes with ornaments of pain adorning my hour of guilt, happiness in my tears colleges in my fears I can see this body to do it only to find myself submerged, drowning. I slit my wrists they precision resurgens wealth finding screaming butterflies writhing in my blood with forgiving eyes, soft lies. Opening a doorway to depravity within a shot of bliss, Angels kiss brought  erections to the hollows of my soul. The soft warmth of hopelessness is a comforting blanket of familiarity, numb, content and alone. Nature's blooming carnival life before my eyes and I set out to see some thought bankrupt morality.

The uneducated poet whose words describe before you. Poetry? Phsyco scribbles? Which is what? Is it the mere thoughts of the perpetually pained? Joy of the joyless? The sights of the visualist, or the tortured soul silently screaming from within gazing through opened wounds that never seem to heal. Or is it the Lost imagination of a child who forgot to grow up? Pain and suffering seeing the bearing the greatest I have to cite or maybe it's the pain that see the beauty in its expression. The philosopher who knows nothing of philosophy the poet who knows not to spell knows nothing meaning with the feeling the flow. May death bring closure to this absurd fantasy? May the organized religions crumble to dust may we all be as meant to be free. For us to view in our own unique perception. Each formation separately viewed distinctively my perception in yours. Oneview one God for strength scripture since birth he programmed belief. By the time it's all over we realize we were bored in the vast destruction occupied site of the cloud. So much wasted time time we should have spent acknowledging on our owncloud our own changing vision our belonging to self.

Rivers and canals weave there way inducing meditative contemplation of the delicate forces that govern this Earth. So violently beautiful in their soft movement, serene, invigorating. I am surrounded, envisioning a soft ride to Nirvana within this flow. I açhe, long for meaning, abolishing religious views forced. I desecrate your Christ for his failure, his illusionary tale all have bought. I pity the desperation so rampantly spread, an airborne contagion. I laugh at the book of of lies you live by to provoke reaction, see disgust, feel the loathing. I use holy water to inject misery. The one called Christ has yet to stop suffering as I fall towards the river cradling this cancer stricken çhild. Floating on pride realizing I am the power all seem to crave. I am the universal dream unseen, the tree which bares no fruit, the water,grass. I am a  insect begging for survival, a clown in search of laughter, a parasite in search of a host, the leaf which falls upon the earth within the nights silence. I am decomposition which takes life, the horror which terrorizes the children at night, the silent scream, tortured dream

REALITY
Is I've never been myself even with myself.
Is I don't even know who I am.
Is that I lie but don't know what it is.
Is that I'm a walking cliche'.
Is that I question Questions.
Is that I live through writings no one will read.
Is I am a coward.
That I have a thousand masks, each stolen from someone else.
Reality is I don't want to die alone.
Is I don't know how to ask for help.
Is I'm still a terrified boy Snug in his eggshelled world of fantasy wishing it would all go away longing for the warmth of one last embrace of a woman he never knew.

I saw a computer chasing a pen as the follen artist cried tears of emptiness. I saw confusion ridiculed by reason as I saw a book watching TV. I saw my reflection in a field of poppies dancing blindly with a syringe, I saw promise held down by lies, hope strangled reality. I saw the homeless ridiculed by societies ignorance. I saw all my dreams injected into screaming viens who recoiled at truth.................. To be continued

I am the lost tear that drains your eyes longing to stay on your cheek, longing to settle for lips of consequence, of love, of tortured nights alone. I am the tear that falls alone , unheard memories, taken by the breeze to an unheard landing alone upon  the adverse concrete looking for salvation, love, companionship, compensation for this brutal ejection. I am the tear looking for a home, I am the tear that dissipates alone and unheard.

A soft sanctuary within the catacombs of loneliness arepas soul of Hope of digging me racist through madness and confusion in a blind rage. The clouds versus sadness cleansing my reg enjoy Bazaar laughter of joy and sadness loneliness and hopelessness, impending doom at every turn. I burrow this and that the river's edge my own piece of conflict is the sound of river flow over the drowning rocks.

Secured in the music an averse sympathetic note creating poetry. A soft emotion so violently felt it bled the eyes to strain the fingers. Such an aversly complicated flow, tears slowly stained the soul, saturating the heart in warmth, wrapping the withered body in a comforting blanket of forgotten harmonies singing some mystic hymn of a Lost belief, before the massacres before the greed of Christianity. A belief in natures songs, love. Ignorance erected churches, greed. Knowledge was born in the the silence of the mountains, enlightenment from within without excessiveness. Flesh and bone, forced through the eyes of vulnerability we measure success within the confusion of wealth. The innocence of feeble eyes absorb the contradiction plaquing our eggshelled minds throwing our soul into a tortured world of confusion, questioning question with questions

I saw a needle making love with it's self within a field of poppies, egotistical in it's savagery, swirling within a storm of love filled lies. I watched in wrapt amazement seemingly drawn to the promise of a world thought unobtained, a world only in dreams, I drank the sweet nectar of the gods as the poppies cried their tar, bringing an ****** of lies cries a loneliness that brought a beauty one could only dream. Conspiring confusion as I dove deeper into dillusion where freedom was shackled thoughts perpetually repeating until thought became obsession no matter the consequences. Alone in my thoughts, injecting more lies I silently follow further into the the desolate terms of this silent contract.

Pounding through the Lost confusion was a tranquility of a summer day dream. Whisperings of bated breath softly exhaled to needles we loved the summer of joy, the summer of hate this summer the sun never had risen. The summer our eyes stared blankly at awkward forming clouds. We danced Joy infields freshly bloomed oblivious to reality . That was a time of hate, a time of anger a time of love where àll was lost in the Poppy induced cancer of agonizing lies.