I often think about once and for all leaving this bark
But society's rules won't let that in my story arc
Enough crying. Enough loneliness. Tired of being sad
Time to return to where there are adventures to be had
A place where things make sense
A place that will give me a mental rinse
The dream of love and farming left behind in the county
Respark the dream of those catching me for my bounty
That dream often ends at my knuckle
Their skull slamming sound is just another notch for my buckle
Being on land for me was emotional error
But meet me on the high seas and I can show you true terror

My mortal coil's defeat
Running through my mind on repeat
Few months watching life from the side line
Other's lives continue to shine
I'm not selfish, neither are you
We will all be fine
Per chance might meet again in the big blue
Don't worry, don't make haste
Without the factor of approaching time
There is only one thing left to waste

The one I'm about to describe is partially feral
She doesn't concern herself if her hands aren't always sterile
Strong and wild, yet with peace in her eyes
Hold no fear toward my most likely demise
Words are her weapon of choice
Kiss my brain to sleep with lullabies from your wonderful voice
Can't be jealous of my other love in the sky
Don't be distressed when lefty is feeling shy
Perfection is not what I require
Someone who won't use me to mitigate their ire
Do this for me, and for you I'll lift the sea
Because all the plunder on the bottom is meant for we
Not to keep and squander, but to lazily toss back in
Yes my love, we can compare scars again.

Struggling to fill the sacks in my chest
Losing everything inside
And not just one form of mass
Trading the contents of the hour glass
Just to stay afloat on the soil
I am the quintessence of ephemeral
Egressing back into the atmosphere
Anchors are only for those of worth keeping
Yet I still scornfully catch myself hoping
The hand coming to tether me
The loving cauterization of your arms
The hive minded beat of your heart on my chest
All these share the same neglect
As I drift away from this lonely rock
I only have time for one last wish
As I soar from here to next
Please Neptune, let your image be what the moon reflects

To the reader scroll down to skip: I have been posting from this account since 2012, I think. It is possible that I may delete all of this in the next couple days. I have no static readers, so it won't matter much, and this is not an emotional gofundme with words to stay here. This is just an explanation of choices before me. This is the last place on the earth that I exist. If this goes away, I'm sorry, and I thank you for all the time you spent reading me. Good luck to you all in either direction the wind blows us.

A lot of stuff has been moving for me
People fading and being swept out of my life
Tectonic plates beneath me are sliding apart
Vibrations shakes my bones, then rattle my organs
Tie up as many loose ends as I can
What else can I use to hold to steady
Do I let the maelstrom of inner fire consume me
Do I let clench the earth to keep things together
Do I release my carbonic form into ash to float elsewhere
Do I slide into the depths of the sea with new shackles
Unfortunately coins only have two sides
And I have only one life
That is possibly too few or more than I deserve
Depends on who you ask
All the people I have came across
The wanderers, travelers, lovers, highway men
Minstrels, talking shadows, the shackled, growers of moss
All of them and others that need mentioning
They have no say or choice
I am starting to wander if I do
The scale will tip in one elements favour
Whatever it is, it will be greeted by my coin flip
Rot with dignity or embrace life's next trip
Best part of the result
I am the only one who can read what gravity puts in my hand

The air and atmosphere is grey. Almost as if we are looking through a grey screen cap, can still see colour, but not as vivid. We are on a coast. Both of us are in the ocean water near the coast. We are spread out from one another on look out / guard duty. Between us is a row boat with a bag tied shut. Someone appears out of the water between us and begins pushing the boat to shore. I try to stop the boat with my body. You try to stop the hooded stranger with your words. I can gain no good footing in the sand and falter. You begin coughing on the salty air. The stranger manages to strand the boat on shore. He climbs inside of the boat. While removing his jacket and hood, he picks up the bag and throws it over his shoulder. We both then realize the stranger is a lost friend, but the items we were protecting belonged to him. He says no words and hops back off the row boat with the bag and walks off the beach and away. We don't know what to say to each other. You just sit in the boat holding your head. I lie in the water and let the tide decide where I should go.

Give this vessel to the Earth
Or give it to the flame
It matters not for I am no longer behind the helm
I'm done with this realm

Find some shelter outside
Take your dog
Have a seat
Enjoy the rain
Keep it simple today

8/12/14

Note to the reader: Before I detail this dream I would like to set it up a little. I share the same mental condition that Robin Williams had. Ever since his deed, I have been bombarded with links to videos on how to live my life and various over things. The past two days I have felt more inhuman than I usually do due to people telling me how to be a proper human.


     Another sleepless day has rolled by me. After spending another night covered in heat, but frozen to the bone; I decided to take a shower to attempt to level my body's humours. The water feels blissful on my flesh. I often wish I could live a life in the water. I open my eyes to see clumps of hair clogging the drain. Frantically, I touch my head to feel nothing; except skin. There is a giant mound of hair now in the shower. Frozen in horror I stare at my own hair. Sorrow nor anger has time to set in before I hear beating on the bathroom door.
     A sea of people rip the door of its hinges and toss it aside. They quickly flood into my bathroom. Hiding behind the shower curtain  I asked what they wanted. The crowd grabs and throws me out of the shower. I cower in fear of being lynched, but no more hands are placed on me. I open my eyes to see the people fighting over my hair. People are fighting and stuffing all the hair they can into Ziploc bags.
     For some reason I feel relieved, so I proceed to dry off and walk to the sink. I gather my daily things out of the medicine cabinet and shut the door revealing a fog covered mirror. Slightly perturbed, I take my towel and clean the fog. My face is not my face, but it is my face because my consciousness resides behind. I see not my own face, but Robin Williams. I claw at it hoping it is some sort of prank, but I am now the owner of this face. But he's dead or am I dead? Are we dead? Did I die? Did he live? We no longer have any answers in this universe.
     I try to find comfort in my towel, but I feel something metaphorically piercing my back. I turn to find that the hair has all been claimed. Some sit and count how many they got, some are hiding their stash away, some are selling what they obtained, and others are sharing. But there are still many people who got nothing, and those people are glaring at me. I manage to stagger through a joke to them opening to break the ice, but their glare is frozen deep. I ask politely if there is anything I can do for them, but the glare nor their silence is broken. I begin to feel cold again. Before I have time to process all these feelings, the crowd's motion catches my eye. They are all now holding razors and slowly approaching me.

Never thought I'd take it for granted
This I realize as I sit alone for a meal
My only company is the chatter of the villagers on the screen
Not so sure I crave companionship
Maybe it's just a lost of lust for time allotted
My last consensual hug can literally be measured in years
But I don't think any embrace will bring warmth to my bones
Perhaps I am meant to be alone
Be more considerate, stop wasting this planet's air
A hand in my hair wouldn't even be worth a dare
This is what I ponder for a few seconds as I eat my cold food
Just swallow it all down

What was there is gone, now remains an empty hand
You swallowed your ticket stub, have a seat on the sand
Preferably, for your pleasure, a spot where the sea caresses the land
I'll take your heavy coat and all that is bland
Stow your fear, it will only taint an experience mildly described as grand
Breathe out, forfeit all that you have planned
Soon we will depart from this strand
Don't fret if we are in an abyss, trench, or anywhere with fish
Just reach out to me if you require assistance to stand

Down my throat and through my hair
Handed from my lungs to my heart to be pumped and shared
The baton is exhaled and grabbed by the wind again
Forever running the globe to continue this chain
Came close to going on a cliche tangent of each breath being borrowed time
But instead I like to underline that each breath is mine
Should I choose to accept it or decline and  turn blue
The choice is mutual for you all, the taking is up to you

Hand in hand, keeping pace with a musical time
The closest thing I have to a grandfather is what sits in your hallway and chimes
I utilize this ******* family around me to construct all you see
My soul is collective. I am you, we, and me
I command these elements, but they too must be fed
A judge am I not, there are no fair rules to read to the dead
Idolize me as you desire, your time can be spent as you wish
Just know you aren't any different than any of your brethren fish
We all reside is the same universe, spinning in our small dish

I would personally like to thank everyone that reads my work. It isn't that great, it's pretty sad, and has too much moon and ocean it; but you all read it anyway. Thanks to every last one of you, I love you all. Life will keep happening, I'll keep writing, the moon will keep pathing, the tides will keep rolling, and if I'm lucky, you will keep reading. See you next time!

P.S. Don't forget your helmet

It belongs to you
But you look so magical
Spending your nights tanning under the moon
Coyotes howl at the sight of your hue
What I'd do to feel your cold porcelain touch
With it you could rearrange my blues
Perhaps into something more appealing
Your flesh doesn't need ink, opinions, or me
Simple to see, what waits for you is so grand
But even if something happens to your beauty
There will still be a place for you between my hands

A texture that is peculiar
A taste that, unlike time, becomes more familiar
In my younger years they did nothing but repulse
Now I find myself eating them on impulse
Plain, in a paste, boiled in a stew
I enjoy them all of any hue
Talking to them makes me feel like I'm dining with a guest
If you are lonely or judged try them sometime
I ensure you that they are the best.

You can compare me to your blood
I too am fueled by oxygen
When irate, I grow stronger
But my anger leave lasting scars
Flood from my body will leave nothing of yours
Nothing left but a skeleton, devoid of flesh, pure
Cleansing the earth of good and bad through a shroud of smoke
I see no colours, just the degree to which I'm stoked
I am the most checked by my brothers
Without them, there would be no others

I'm staring forward out a window from across the room. Seems to be an average living room. Movement is impossible because I can't feel the presence of a body. My field of vision can pan left or right, but that is the extent of my abilities here.
Some time passes before I see an approaching shadow. Rough, scraping footsteps followed by a faint dragging sound is closing in to the room. A reptilian humanoid walks into my sight. Scales that are some sort of brown with red spots on his head, no shoes, a button up floral print shirt, green eyes, and blue jean shorts with a hole cut out for his tail. He seems to be sorting through his mail and mumbling about his day. My presence has yet to be detected.
After going through his mail, he sits down in a chair and releases a large sigh through his nostrils .He begins to slowly moisten his skin. Half way through he looks directly at me and scowls. Slowly he approaches me while rubbing under his jaw,  Our eyes are locked into one another, but he doesn't seem to be alarmed. "Who keeps tilting this painting?" he mutters while reaching past my field of vision and adjusting me on the wall. Everything seems balanced now. He takes a few steps back and nods approvingly.
What appears to be my owner, walks out of the room. He does not return at any point. I am left in the feeling of suspension while watching a wall slowly make and fill dents on itself. The shadows from the windows indicate that the sun never changes position. I am neither hot, cold, nor wanting. I just simply am while fulfilling my purpose to be seen not heard.

Listless in a serene nightmare
But I'm not sleeping
Eyes peeled watching petals bloom
Looks so soft, but I'm afraid to reach
What if it isn't a dream
I don't want it to touch me back
Follow the golden rule
Just wait
The rain will wash the pollen away soon
Those red swollen eyes will clear
But I can't promise what will be here
Effervescent flesh
Will the rain take me too
Or will it leave me pure and refreshed
The die rest on the back of your palms
Gently blow on them or toss them to the side
Either way, the seed will be planted
I am what I began, always have been, and will be
Just soil, a decimal of the earth.

This place, this laboratory offends all senses. Here I wait contained in a cell. My location on Earth, I can not tell. The sounds of moans, groans, and dragging gives me a fictional idea of where I am. I couldn't pay my debt down. From my bed I vanished. Now I'm here on a cold floor. Frost creeping across my flesh. Am I in the deepest inner ring? Was I that bad of an animal? All these questions I hear echo back through the halls of hell.

Jolted from my arctic slumber by the sounds of the door opening. A mishapend man stands before me, not taking a step closer. He reaches out with a pole and hook. Snags one of the hoops in my chains and begins to drag me legs first. Scratch marks line the walls. A well lit room seems to be my forced destination. Horrible pantings and droll ooze from the other sealed rooms. I can't take this any longer. Close my eyes and dream of better things and people. I'll get free, I'll escape. Good guys always have luck blowing up their pant legs. Just relax

I'm dragged through the door way and quickly hoisted and hung upside down. My eyes slowly adjust to the bright light. I didn't think it was possible due to the cold, but I had thicker chill bumps from the view of fright. Bodies hacked apart. Parts reassembled. Constructs living and obeying. These flesh rots aren't a disease. Before me they stand surviving with no soul. This is no fantasy, this is no TV show. This is my fate. Some are sloppily stitched, while some are finely done and fit. The hum of freezers drown out the thought process. Sensory overload is imminent.

A blunt strike to the back of my neck brings me back. Am I one of them? Chains rattle, and my back and feet land on gurney. I'm slowly wheeled to a clearing in the room. Some of these abominations stare at me while others seem hollow. My eyes stop panning across the room when they meet with a feminine figure standing in a stained lab coat. Those thick brown eyes size me up and down, pondering what her next piece will be. No explanations are given. No words are uttered. The coldness gets the best of me and takes my body and gives it to her.

Arms extended for a hug in the moon light
You can't reach it
But I swear I've been close
Look to the heavens and jump with might
Pain cracks through you as you hit the ground
What is hurting is what is keeping you down
Have you figured it out yet
Why be stuck here
It could be as easy as taking off a coat
We are made to fall apart
Find a loose thread
Dig a nail in
Get close to your heart, no one else will
Are you ready yet
Push both hands in
Savour one last breath
Split yourself wide
Face the heavens and jump again
Just thinking about it is the closest you'll get to me
At least for now
Maybe in some measurement of time, we'll meet again
Until you change your mind
Do what I never could
Find purpose on this rock

I lie here shivering in the night
Bones dull and body froze tight
I used to be so selfish to ask for help
But I much prefer choke on my lack of might
The cold aches deep
Its company I prefer
The alternative being debasing another soul
For that I no longer weep
Because my flesh feels so hot to the touch
Ice in my veins will surely never melt
I'll find a way to enjoy my plague ridden sleep
My spirit be preserved in its frosty keep

These past few days have been quite the strain
Lucky to endure it without doing a Scott Pilgrimesque shave of the mane
I don't cope with loss or change very well
Especially when I'm plagued with the thoughts of someone going to hell
Not that this is taking a religious direction
Growing up with christian brain washing gives me that inflection
Made it through this without one shred
Promise you my life is much better without any meds
Blaming myself for not going in the night is not the best
Blaming others for not taking my mother to surgery won't bring me any rest
Gravity is the only thing that can heal and **** me
Dragging the sand down on me until I'm buried like she
A hug from the hands of the clock are all I need
Because pretty soon it will be time to sow seed
The tide carries on even if you are at the bottom of the deep blue
Whether or not you learn to surf, is up to you.

Skeletal frames packed with flesh
Cranial membranes trying to cover the former
I can hear you
I can see you
but not long before I can smell you
One half sees the outside that you have created
My other half sees the foundation that you cover
How can you relate to people when you know them before you meet them
The closed eye blocks out words before I hear them
I don't need comprehension to keep up with your plight
Where are the others that can see through the light
Or is it just darkness seeping like a mist from my mind
I'll just flip a coin to decide if I'm one of a kind.
Déjà vu shakes my spine as I read and rewrite this
But only so many words can I stutter out
Just caught myself rambling again
Just go back to waiting on gravity to bring that coin back to my hand

Buried in jade. Life returns to me. The sensation of a long sleep is slowly leaving my body.  A smile stretches across my face. The dream I had was one of the funniest things I have ever experienced. Mad cackling erupts from my dry throat.

After I catch my breath, I decide that I have to share this with everybody I know. Frantically I start searching for people to share this hilarity. Houses are dark and cold. Streets are abandoned. My yard is devoid of animals and flora.

There is nobody in my world that I can share this with, not even my dog. My legs begin to ache and I start feeling exhausted again. The smile slowly crumbles. I return to my former prison. Sitting ******* the ground, I attempt to cover myself back up in jade. It doesn't even want me now. Staring into the ground, I wait for myself to wake up.

My body is not yours to purloin
I want everything back
Stay your hands from my *****
Take back these panic attacks
Return my faith in the female gender
Why do I pray for a mender
I find no comfort in people, things , or tender
Your body, return it to sender
You had so many other options for ****** delight
Why do that to me on multiple nights
I never wanted this, your body , or you
The insults from others don't sink in well too
Just another few reasons to only sing to the moon of my blues

You wouldn't want me to feel this guilt
Jokingly reminding me on what our friendship was built
But I am such a selfish man
I want to cling on to your every last minute while I can
Your last breath, I'm too late
I'm so sorry I made you wait
Where ever you are, I hope it is as wonderful as you were
This is all I pray with the moonlight illuminating my fur

I blame my woes on the grass and underlying rock
In all reality I'm responsible for my mental block
The song of the sea still pulls on my rope
Even if I cover my ears like a big dope
Still a song sweeter than any lute
Often find myself unknowingly packing up fruit
Maybe it is time I clear the sand out of my clock
Bail my boat out of hock
Rid my soul of the taint of money
Find myself in dangerous situations I find funny
Or maybe fate or ole Terra will have me stay
For reasons they can not yet convey
On the wind or sea, I'll continue to sway

Proving to myself that others feel
But my mind eye is long blind
Whim like torment as the wind passes
What was and could is all I see in the fog of my mind
I don't blame any person in these tortured masses
Surviving on luck and living in the past
Only one to hold my hand is myself
But when they come together, it is not love I cast

Most days, it is all I can muster to say
My voice and opinion fades everyday
Guilt for each breath that I take
Hatred for every smile that I fake
This Earth is where I do not desire
My thoughts against me they conspire
Apologizing to all for every second my life is longer
The stares make me feel like a war monger
Their eyes arrange the scars to say "Do it"
But I am in a constant battle for intuit
Good news has to reach me, one day it may
I just wish to the moon that I didn't feel this way

4/13/14


It must be Winter. The sound of the insect orchestra is nonexistent. I sit upon a roof top watching chimneys lazily hack up their smoke. There is no season with greater beauty. Above me is a full moon. There is no object of greater beauty. I feel alive here on the roof, but I'm not sure if that feeling is correct. How does one feel alive without knowing how to feel dead? Is this something I test or wait to find out? If I'm dead, why do I desire nothing more than a loving hug? If I'm alive, why don't I feel so repulsive anymore? Answers can only be bought with time, and I'm not so sure how much of that I have left on loan. The sun will come soon leaving nothing but a shade of myself, a cackling mad man. And I remain with nothing but lonesome. The two of us are no longer on speaking terms inside or outside of my mind.

4/15/14

A fistful of coins and an empty room with an old claw machine. I stare through the glass for what seems like hours. Many riches are inside the machine, but in the center of the machine, or my attention, sits an object of my desire. I catch myself drooling. After drawing my tongue back into my mouth, I steady my hand and contemplate trying to win. This machine takes both coins and confidence. I lose and lose and lose and lose and lose. The machine swells pushing my against my knees. Choking on frustration, I throw the rest of my coins at the machine and hang my head. Out from the prize slot drops a lighter. I take my consolation and adjust my hat. After one last longing gaze at the prize in the center, I leave the empty room to be burned up by the sun. Maybe someday someone better than me will bypass all the jewels and gold inside the machine and truly win the stuffed cat inside.

My legs are cramped in this cell
Where else do I fit other than hell
There is no room for me between your arms
No place on this world for the thoughts in my head
Too strange, too different, you cause nothing but harm
Debasing the life of others
The sight of me only gives dread
So what exactly am I still doing here
Laughing at things no one else enjoys
Indulging in hobbies that few others employ
My life only brings me joy
I am the biggest fan of my laughter
I'll never be one for the cliché happily ever after
This piece is as scattered as my thoughts
Racing faster than can be measured in knots
Just another sober night
Melting away under the moon light.