The summit of pride...Is at best, a long ***** to fall from.
Ive seen many die from my place at the top.
But I am not so lucky.
I must wait patiently till the day,
(for no man can surrender his pride)
And I will fall,
Faster and harder than any I have seen.
But what I have seen:

A stag with strong antlers becoming tangled in the thickets.

A man, A patriarch, A fighter, who in defeat, cannot grace.

A child with the best toy who becomes a recluse when the new one arrives.

A Woman who has never surrendered to a morally ambiguous world, Has told them to be stolen.

For happiness intertwined with your pride will fail.
Just as what you have taken pride in dwindles.
Every weak point exists to become stronger.

Ear           Pupils        Get
Drums     have           to
are            a                 know
really       good           your
funny       way            feet
when        of                they
there         letting        are
is                you            your
nothing     see             best
else            the             friends
to               world
hear

Howdy Mr. Jones:

The dinosaur was the most interesting animal on the Titanic that month. The dinosaur (whos name was Joan) was unfortunately, on the floor, dead as any pile of bones you'll ever hear of.  The room was full with Characters, who traveled lightly from abroad. From wonderland and Oompavil and Sherwood forest and mars' second biggest moon.  In the room, Rashida: Queen of Forest Rhythm, bounced around the room, jangled up against the lead wind chimes, and flew right smack into the portholes. And the King, stood on his pedestal, With his silver scepter pointing away, so that he could think deeply about who exactly he is king over. And the girl with the button nose running frantically, for no reason. And screaming gibberish but we all just let it slide. And Floobert: Ruler over the Toddlers, Yelling "floobee flooblah floobobo bafloo." And little Adolf starting to grow up before our eyes. He starts talking like a fish, and in his fish tongue says "every man for themselves" So now we start thinking, "are we mans? Or are we selves?" Then, When all hope is lost, the sweet girl with the button nose drop-kicked Adolf.  That is all I remember... It was a good month.

Forever *******,

-Iguana

A long time ago, before the days of Henry VIII, There was a young farmer.
Dryden had inherited his land from his recently passed father.
It was a luxurious plot, the greatest and largest around.
There was however, Dryden noticed:
A large area of land his father never used.
Time passed and eventually Dryden decided he would begin to farm that land.
When he arrived at the small plot, he realized it was perfect farmland.
The soil was perfect , sunlight was plentiful but the dirt remained moist.

     Dryden began to sow the seeds he had brought.
It was strenuous and demanding work.
Dryden worked for seven hours and finished right in time to leave before the sun went down.
When he turned to look at his work however, Dryden saw a campfire, burning brightly.
Dryden approached slowly, when he got to the fire, to his shock, there was a small Devil sitting in it.
It was Blood red with grey cloudy eyes, the feet of a goat and arms the size of a baby's.
At the sight of Dryden it began to do a dance. It was repulsive.
"What is your business here?"
Dryden asked in a brave demanding tone.
The creature began to cackle.
It said this:
"This land is full of potential, this land will bare much treasure. You will give me half of all that you grow on this land this year, I have no use for money, but the fruits I desire"
Intimidated, Dryden could find no way out of the deal, but then a thought came to his head.
He said:
"Fine you may have half of what is grown here. To make it even I will take what grows under the ground and you may take what is above ground"
The devil agreed and went away in a wicked manner.

    Dryden however knew this season was for beets not the corn.
The devil was not all knowing, so he did not know this.
When the time came to harvest, the devil returned.
While Dryden loaded is basket with beets to sell.
The little devil was empty handed, save for a couple wild berries.
The devil was furious, and called over Dryden.
He said:
"You tricky man, how dare you. This time I will take what is below ground."
Dryden agreed.

     Of course this time the corn sprouted, and when the devil returned he saw this.
Dryden approached and said:
"There you go Little Devil, You've gotten what you wanted, regardless of what you desired. Go now, do not come back."
The devil was upset at himself for its lack of knowledge about farming and left Dryden and his land alone for the rest of his life.

I do not have the
attention span for reading
haikus, so i wont

The *****’s name,
Is the politician’s claim,
He only has to gain,
Until it can rain,
And slow down his train,
And land his airplane,
Its all just in vain,
They'll use you until they feel pain.

Dear Brother Jesse:

Papa Piglet has been telling me stories lately. Those conventions sound really fun, and someday I would love to make it to one. Unfortunately its hard for me to make it to the meetings. And just to get to stage two costs ₹12,000. Stage one sounds hard too, I think I would have trouble making it to all the auctions. Maybe religion just isn't for me....(?)

Your fellow Whifling,

-Mobard

Walking on the water, running away,
from the golden calf that you built today.

Cannot sleep at night cause your sharing a bed,
while you spider conscience dies in its own web.

Things don't change, you know its not true,
the only thing that stays the same is hidden in you.

You seek out treasure and surely will find,
a treasure chest of truth buried underneath lies.

You seek out freedom cause its not in his eyes,
but its so far away is it worth your demise?

Wolves jumping up sprouting their wings,
and your on the ground thinking through things.

A golden horse approaches and asked for a ride,
you said hop on, and where do we fly.

We learn to walk on frozen toes,
but you cant learn any flowers except a rose.

When we think we revolt
we really don't.
We just join the cult,
of youthful clones.

our parents did the same,
our peers are not insane.
The law is not "just bull"
the prisons are all full.

How can you "be alone"
when everyone is home,
doing what you've done before,
as if you've ever soared.

You think *** makes you the man?
Well we are overpopulated Mr. Stan.
Don't pretend there is a door,
your open as the store you little *****.

smoking kills we all know that,
and how would we have learned if you were first, you ****!
Sit down you have nothing to say.
It would be the same as what I heard yesterday.

My dearest Leopold:

The blind birds propaganda course is enlightening. Yeah, Ive taken it, In fact, Ive taken it once a week since June 7th, 2015. The boat started sinking on that day as well... Probably just a coincidence. I apologies if I come off as acclumsid but that devil has got my mind in a twist. I think being an afterling of this great man is an honor, unfortunately I'm not sure that he enjoys my company.... He already has his own little Heinrich Himmler. The button nose girl popped up again. This time outside of a dream. Quite a queer circumstance... She never stops bluttering and she is a bit of a daggle-tail and feather-head, but I feel what I feel.  Anyways I can hardly believe it has been three fortnights since last we had correspondence, But the elves are riding scamper like a horse and its been quite a hassle to get them off.

Always with flerd,

-Lorenzo

I was running with my friends outside, we were playing on the tire swing, and jumping in and out of the tree fort. Me and my friends...we had a lot of fun. Isn't it a bit morbidly funny... I had no idea that this was the anniversary. No idea that years from now I would be gone.  I don't think I even knew I would end up gone, underneath the ground, bits of dust.  No one who is young ever gets old, no one who is healthy ever gets sick, no child even knows that they will die. They pretend to understand, and perhaps they think they do, but they don't.

It is sad to look at these things from above...To know that it is over.
Time seems to go so slow, but what I have learned is it does not matter, how long life feels like...or how long it actually is.  Because eventually we all die and it makes no difference how long it feels our lives were. so make the best with what you have, but it's all in vain. We both know it.

Then I opened my eyes, and he was still there, and he said: "Go to sleep son I'm here, there is nothing under your bed."
"Good night Pa."

August is the coldest month,
A stark contrast from the warmth of April.
Yet still,we forget the truth, that the seasons are built to **** us.

The doorbell rings very frequently where I live.
It is almost always too late in the night for me to bother with it,
So I let it ring.

When I decide, finally, to let the visitor in,
I can say for certain, at that moment if I have made a mistake.
Sometimes you just can't see through the keyhole.

I don't forget how lucky I am to be alive,
You'll never know, but I will remember.
So, mistake or not, I am pleased to entertain guests.

And around the table, as we sit, I am the only one to smile,
The demons have come and I am finally ready to speak with them.
I welcome them, and though they call me friend,
(And I to them.)
They greet me with disdain.
I am just pleased to have been able to finally address them.

Dear Scamper,
Things have been weird since dad became the First Lady.  We spend most of our time on bear mountain, watching the snow fall over Belgium. And the fairies waving their golden wands at the clouds. And the buck-toothed lizard scrambling to find a tree. And the old Gnome Brigade  trying to investigate where the traveling carnival was on the day of the St. Patricia parade. And The President of the United States of Hungary is going insane, but people wont say anything because he still believes in the robes that he is "wearing."  And just when we think we can live happily ever after... a meteor came down and hit Mandy Warhol in the brain, causing her to go 1n5ane, causing her to sing like a Zebra, and dance like the speckles on a tree frog. And when those speckles run away, It turns out that the frog had a mind of its own and it said: "This planet is a Madhouse."
But that is life now....See you Tuesday!

Sincerely,

-Fish kid

Your lack of intellect makes me scream,
Cry,
Pull out my hair,
Or maybe yours,
You are not like the Christ figure you pretend to admire,
You don't even care,
You have no desire,
And for an imbecile...
You are good at getting your way,
But you'll regret it,
Just not today.

Blissfully staring at Cinderella.
Her beauty stuns, and takes your soul along a blind trip,
into her castle and you feel the wonder,
though you cannot see,
you know where you are,
but somehow you know not at all of your location,
but the feeling, Its worth all other senses to feel it for one moment.

Are you overweight? Do people tell you how much to drink?
Are you a little shorter than you'd like? Are you under-educated?
Are you completely unbearable to be around? Do you demand social justice?
Are you a full blooded Obama supporter? Do you skip church every third Sunday?
Do you crave intimacy with someone?
If you fit the above description, please call:
1-800-KCAJ-219932
Code word is: Buck's Row.

Under the water,
the blackness spreads to my soul,
The lilies can't help.

We will surely know a genius ,
Not by his coat,
Or lack of weakness ,
The fact that he gloats,
Or a vocal cleanness,
But by the fact ,
That inevitably,
All the imbeciles,
Will be stacked in opposition.

I spent a long lonely year exactly where I wanted to be,
I'm not sure where, but It was out upon a cold black sea,
I let my emotions run so far I thought they would fall of the earth,
but to my intrigue they didn't, and I was able to continue my search.
How far I traveled I have no idea, how long I was a away I'll never know,
But on my vessel I found a friend, he could be famous now in a sideshow.
I don't remember how I got back...I don't remember if I got back,
but something inside me changed, my heart's now a lighter shade of black.

But know its time, time to return, because I cannot lie to myself anymore,
I spent many days looking at my old home even if it was just a distant star.

Congratulations on making it this far. And good job on finding this page. It was hidden quite well, wasn't it?  Your journey will continue now, but first I must warn you that you are being watched. Who is watching you? I can't tell.  He is not a malicious creature, but he can be rather tricky to shake off.  And he has quite a knack for making you lose your way. If you are tempted by him to wander, you should climb a high tree, find the red house and return to the start of your trip.

Now go, walk directly west from where you found this letter. You will eventually come across a snake. I would encourage you to speak to him. He will, of course, attempt to make a fool out of you, but he is nailed down to a tree, and cannot attack.

Turn to face North once again, and you will find a path. Along the path you will meet many young elves in search of their master that they have been told exists. And many homely witches, far too ill favored to even desire attention from an opinionated child like you. Speak to all that you meet, but do not ask for directions. Dine with the people whose company you favor, but do not drink. Always remember that the heart of the lovely harbor darker things than love, and that the thorns of a rose have potential to be the least harmful thing on the flower.

Walk the path 'till it is too exhausted to support you any longer. There you will find a cave. I have left the next page under custody of the bats. Speak to them to obtain it.

Would you feel the pain,
if a million emotions hit you like rain?
Would you understand,
if they fell on you like grains of sand?
How then would you approach it,
if you were called a counterfeit.
Could you handle it?
You'd probably wanna sit.
I can tell you everything,
and man its gonna sting.

We've all gone with the wind.
The flow of the river,
never disciplined.

And we've lost all our hope.
And found it again,
at the end of our rope.

Tomorrow passed by so quick,
I thought it was here,
but it was just a trick.

You longed for a lover,
you looked for one
you could not discover.

And I sit here and wait.
I let time go by,
oh isn't time great?

I went to the docks today.
To get there I had to walk along that lonely prism we all pretend to nurture.
That is where I met that girl,
I did not know her,
until I asked her to marry me.
She said "yes, but first follow me."
We went to the run down wooden side of the dock.
A baby laid there,
and innocent baby child, with its own personality and humanity.
she sat it up....
And kicked it,
so hard in the chest that I think I felt it,
and of all times for her to tell me,
THIS is the moment she reveals that she has been cheating on me.
With four phantoms that she stole from the forest, and mended with her tears.
I felt her words stab me in the the chest,
I had no other thought but to run,
I guess I must have said something in my rage.
I ran through the woods,
yelling curse words I had not learned yet,
I ran with my eyes closed,
I ran on my hands,
backwards,
and on my knees.
Until I ran into the hills,
I couldn't run up them so I crafted a shovel to dig through them.
It was hard work.
But then, I realized.
Why run?
Washington did not run.
Napoleon Bonaparte did not run.
Mussolini Did. Not. Run.
So I turned around and went to the store.
I bought a Knife.
I found the woman,
and stabbed her till she was dead and back again.
and then once we hugged away our sorrow and differences.
I went home and laid in bed.
It was then that I remembered the baby,
and my soul broke.

Why do we fear death?  Perhaps its the fear of the unknown, but we did not fear the world as we left the womb, so why is death to be feared? It's just as natural as being born, but we still seem to be un-expecting as it approaches us, and surprised when we realize it is near.

We are in fact, just as destined to take our last breath, as we are to take our first.  It is because with our earthly blindness, all we are able to see is the decaying body of those passed, that we think there is any difference between birth and death. We rarely think about a next phase, and when we do, most dismiss it as idealization. When did we become so blindly trusting in our own "intellect"?  And so ignorant to the idea that this world is just one step in a larger scheme?

I cannot fully put into words why we feel like we do on this topic, but I can try to speak on my behalf.  I don't believe (as I've been told,) that it is the farewell to the deceased, that makes the difference between birth and death, or our lives would be in disarray before that person entered it.  I think it is the fact, that all we have ever known is in life. There simply is no way to imagine where the person has gone. This differs from a fear of the unknown.  What I am saying now is that, We can see life created, and follow that life's story, we can share in the moments with them, but when they pass, even if you fully believe in a next step, we cannot see, or follow them any longer.  They have abandoned us, all we have ever been taught to see is now gone. something beyond our comprehension will happen next.  It is like trying to imagine a new color, it is simply not possible.  So why should any single one of us expect to understand an entirely different form of existence? I think that is why we fear death.  Not because of the unknown, but because of the complete lack of understanding and the fact that the few things we do understand, crumble with death.

The sun moves through the sky so quickly,
and you sit there and look, while the moon rises swiftly.
But the friend of the Gods, still can't call on the rain.
He cannot do a thing he couldn't even destroy young Cain.
A gun in the hand of a one eyed man,
destroys any dreams of the half minded lamb.
Removing so many of the mice you called men,
destroying the oath made from the princes demand.
Killing the things that desire only life,
to dress the rich men in clothes from the sacrificed.
Why evil men? Do you know what you've lost?
The trust of the people. Has this ever been worth the cost?
Luckily, this is all that's been told, we have to write the story.
We'll write it alone, correctly for us, write it in gold, and write our glory.

I can hear the gentle sea foam,
That touches the ground so close to her home.
Beauty woven in her rusty golden hair,
I've not known her long but she lets me walk on air.
There's something she has, some kind of grace,
That shines like a gemstone through her face.
Her eyes might be average on anyone else,
But in hers I see heaven, an my heart melts.
She has childlike wonder and I love it so,
And she gives off the most whimsical glow.
Even when we stand on the cold concrete,
I can see flowers spring up around her feet.
I think I love her, yes, I do!
No I don't, it cannot be true.

do you even realize?
you're total non entity,
in the steps of the dodo,
a soon to be has been,
you're just passing by,
you don't seem to get it,
you wont be remembered,
you've left no footprint,
you'll only live while you breath
stuck in a waterfall,
beneath the legacy of my cat,
we wont remember you,
you'll be a name on a stone,
a useless speck of dirt,
that's what your trends are worth.

Is this the life you lead?
To take out small animals and beat them?
you don't scare me or disgust me,
but you dare me and trust me.
Is that how you wish to live?
In peril forever of karma awaking?
It should hurt you and burn you,
but your dirt stew has turned blue.

Philosophers of love you of little faith dismiss, walking along the air.
defeated from above and destroyed by a kiss and always wearing despair.

You can live in the moment for all your life... but when the moment is gone where will you be?

Please don't pretend you care,
About morals as if they always mattered,
You make a living of of vulgarity and one night stands,
And if not,
You at least support that life,
So why hold leaders to any morals shackles,
When you cut them of yourself before you could even walk?
Your high horse is a centaur.

The potent throne of pride.
Can nothing penetrate its pedestal?
Can light come through the veil that hangs over your seat?
Do the noble men know?
Do they see how far you may go just to prove to yourself that your boots are higher?
Just to show his song?
he loves you because he controls you like a kite,
but hates you because the kite of your soul may fly higher than him.
yet you still only pull gently.
what heresy is this!
How dare you wimp, to put your own life above the good will of man.
How can you sleep at night, bed full of prostitutes ******* you gently into oblivion.
You have permission to yell.
"******* *****, you are the work of Satan"and throw them off the docks.
They stole your soul.
Now use your anger to **** more.
****.
****.

You ask why I don't trust you,
Well why would I? Just because you want me to?
You slept with me on our first date, what bond of trust can be formed?
You never abstained,
You never denied yourself,
The quenching of desire is not a human right,
Nobody would buy a used *** doll,
So consider yourself blessed that I've given you myself,
Even with knowing what you've partaken in.

I am gonna lead a rally against smoking.
And the cigarette companies...they begged me to stop.
They offered to name the brand after me, give me money, and even put my face on the posters.
The **** institution is terrified.
The establishment is on their knees.

I lived in a house with seventeen doors,
two in the front,
and the rest were red.
A staircase led to one of the red ones in the front,
and underneath the floor of the red front door,
there was another carpet,
and it was also red.

Ive talked little about the staircases in my home,
of which there were eighty-seven,
but only two of them had any steps,
one had a small room under it
and spiders would plunder it,
It was always dark,
and that's where I found my ring,
when I found it however,
it was just a piece of metal,
I used my drill to shape it,
and I sold it,
and with the money I bought a house,
With twice as many staircases,
and doors four times Redder.

One eye sees the horror,
one eye sees the beauty.
One ear hears the hatred,
one ear hears the wonder.
One hand feeds the poor,
the other holds the knife.
One of me houses the homeless,
the other me hands them the bill.

The cobblestone pathway leads to a river,
the blue water somehow runs clear.
The pathway goes on through the steepening slopes,
and the crystal caves come into sight.
I see wild flowers among the high pines,
and step on to the gold satin sand.
We dove underwater and soon we discovered,
that beneath the clear wave we could still breath.

There was a broken songbird in my basement,
Who would always yell, "I shall not sing until you fix my placement.
I want to be upstairs you stupid man".  
Well I had no retort other than "please just show me your wingspan".
Then at that point I suppose it remembered its wings,
and jumped out the window with a spring
to balance all its yang and ying,
and satisfy its urge to sing.

So I got a new bird,
I liked it more,
I taught him a few words,
only four,
and then he died,
prematurely...

There was once a spider,
all the creepy crawlies and tiny bugs know about him.
This spider was a Cheiracanthium punctorium to be exact.
It had a legacy, not a noble one.
It was the leader of a nest of spiders, (this is rather unnatural, but it was an evil spider and had killed the mother.)
It had also killed every fly, beetle, toad, grub ladybug and grasshopper it saw.
Years later, across the globe, there was a fly.
who was put in charge of a group of other bugs.
the opposition would yell, constantly:
"He is the next spider, he will **** you all he IS THE SPIDER!"
This of course is not true.
does anyone really think that this fly, if given the opportunity, would do what the spider did?

Last night I had a dream,
Before I went to sleep,
I dreamed I rested my head on your body,
And we talked,
You rested your head on my shoulder,
And we created art,
All I want to do now,
Is sing a song with you,
And that's what I got to do,
But that was just a dream, its time to go to sleep.

Its closing hour at the harbor,
I didn't see any whales today,
perhaps I would have, If I looked harder.
If I could, I really would like to stay.

But its to hard to sneak past the guards,
and whales don't like the moon,
so I'd rather lay back to see the stars,
than sit inside a quiet cocoon.

Beneath the willows of the sea,
the quiet beast still sings,
a lonely semi-silent decree,
of all his deadly loving kings.

For nothing comes with the first stride,
and everyone who was, is still alone,
now, if there was still a place to hide,
It would be full of all the wind that you've thrown.

Lost behind the folds of time,
the lies that were always called truth,
are gone because you realized ,
no wisdom is given with youth.

You can lead a horse to water,
But you cant make the water surrender.

A writhing winter took my love,
snatched it from the sky as I threw it in the air.
I've been searching for it ever since,
(not too hard, since my passion went along with it.)
I suppose I'll just wait till the snow melts.
Then I may find it.

I've got five songs in my head that just wont come out.
My book is kinda a bore,
but who am I to pout.
Its just kind of frustrating,
to sense some potential.
In fact its a little degrading.
The light of the radio seems to be fading.
It's not my only light,
but it is much more invading.
My guitar is too loud for this time.
I can't wait to have my own house,
but I'm just too stagnant its a real tough climb.
I've got too many aspirations.
I have no starting line.
All I know is there are six or seven.

Now its just like a woman,
To turn of the lights when you need them,
Close the door in my face,
Though I know that you live careless in Eden.

And its just like a master,
To pull the strings of a toy puppet,
To pull of a heist,
Taking my heart and twisting it onto a compass.

And its just like a monster,
To take away a sense of possibility,
No sanctity for life,
And love is dead as anything in the cold red sea.

I painted a demon and he painted ten more,
He showed me all thing things I hid away,
But that life is gone now,
The canvas is burned,
I could begin to repaint it,
But whats the point,

Your Love is like the final ember.
It will die, there is no way around it.
but it's warmth forces us to grow closer to it,
even though it's bound to fail.
so be weary,
do not rely on that ember for life.
It will not last long.