Life can be beautiful
For those who seek beauty in themselves.
Your world is ultimately shaped by you,
So make yourself the beautiful you
That you are destined to be.

This is how we can all make the world

BEAUTIFUL.

My existence weighs heavy today,
Heavier than any moment to precede it.
I must decide now what will be my way,
If I shall rise to victory or remain defeated.
But in all truth, I feel not afraid.
Other challenges, I have vanquished
Lacking that languished hand of aid.
Yes, life is my special stage.
I shall revel in it's light,
As well as that of my new age.

My first glimpse of
Operatic joy occurred
March 12th of years past.
In their foolishness,
They allowed me a go
At an open vehicle of
Two wheels
that went as fast as I wanted,
Where I wanted,
For however long I wanted.

I would bike away in my dreams
As they mounted assaults in life,
I couldn't help but feel invulnerable
Upon my nimble ride.

Yes O yes,
I still cruise to this day.
My freedom is mine
Forever to behold and make.

Life is as inviting
As she is intense,
But don't be put off
By her indifference.

She will make us all martyrs
Before we're left diminished;
Leading us to slaughter
As we bask in our innocence.

So fear not her wrath,
For she is not shrill.
Their only directive is to ****;
Live before you've had your fill.

Meadows of loving emotion
Jostle us kindly away
From cascades of swollen ire
That guide our desires astray.

If all life meant for me to do was smile,
I'd spend the rest of mine making coffee.

To linger in the stillness
Of Time's infinite wake
Is to stifle a lifetime
For loss' sake.
Take grasp of Your being,
Brief as it may seem,
For the rest is darkness,
And the silence:
Deafening.

She writes in seclusion
Despondent and morose,
Beckoning to your
Hearts and minds.
For hours at a time
She sits inside,
Having drawn her mental blinds.
No voice can reach her
But the one inside
Her head,
So what a surprise
For all to find
Her work was never read.
All the craft and all her labor
Lay wasting in her bin.
If someone had seen
The soul of this poet,
Perhaps lonely
She may not have been.

Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?

To live life sat atop a plush throne,
You must release your inner pain.
Sweat fluidly and gather a flush tone-
No burdened toil shall fester in vane.

This is the only time we'll ever meet.
You could be in a cafe
Or a bus as you read this.

My words travel to your eyes
Like light into an event horizon.
Whether you remember me or not
Will never matter.

My name is not important,
But don't let that fool you,
Our meeting is as grandiose
As the creation of life itself.
For my light may flash
A heavenly bright torch

So long as your mind
Can make the right choice.

Empty pockets
Spread threadbare,
Growling stomachs
Ached despair.
Ain't no money to see
In this mess of a reverie.
Cold winters kissing me,
Smokey wind upon my door.

If only I had one...

I'd be all set,
Chaufer driving me
To my charming jet.
My honey and I
Would always kiss sweet,
Never having to worry
About what to eat.

If only...
life weren't so grim.
Poverty & cheap thrills
Wearing my spirits thin.
My charcuterie is plastic,
So is my base lifestyle.
I'm dreary eyed with things drastic,
Trying to chase a break for a while.
But my blues are static
And they're charging me up
Just to drive me wild.

Is building Paradise
worth sacrificing
the world
and its humanity?

You think the world hates you.
The current always pushing,
The worms always digging,
And the fisherman taking your friends.

But the world thinks nothing of you.
Because you're an oyster
In a sea of oysters
And nobody can see what's inside.
It could be a pile of dirt
Or the sea's prettiest pearl.

So you can wait your whole life
Expecting someone to come
And crack you open
Or you can find your own light
Make your way to shore
And bide your time outside the ocean.

Moonlight peaking through blinds    
intermingling with candlefire,  
Illuminating a tired artist    
creating out of an innate desire.  
Cups of coffee, cream & sugar    
downed two at a time for stamina    
while the typewriter tatters away      
fabricating a tapestry of stories      
weaved by burgeoning personas.

Who are you?

the stories ask

The coffee? The cream?    
The paper? The sugar?    
The moon? The light?    
The candle? Their user?      
Are you the art or the artist?    
The heart or its confuser?

All of these questions & more boggle      
the artist, who knows not the difference  
between imagination & its manifestation,    
reality.

Our rational world of thought has given way
to a mystical realm harbored deep within
every subconscious; a subterfuge of
silver threads that discreetly tie us together.

Every night, one after another,    
minds across the world become interwoven
into a network of murmured incantations.      
Dreams lost in translation like travelers    
awaiting trains at different destinations.

Poem and mope
Are the same word
Built differently.

O with what heavy heart
And steaded blissfulness
Doth I burdened start
Dodge the dreaded crinkles.
My soul is aching,
Much to my chagrin
As she stands there alone,
Sullenly basking.
How I Wish to be freed
From this forsaken place
Allowed to wander by steed
At a vagabond's thorough pace.
Yearn for adventure
I shall
Through the bitter years that follow,
For I myself a lady
Stall not the humble morrow.

You can't live a beautiful life
Without getting a few scars.

My love runs sweet
For someone as dear
As the young lass
Who doth make my
Lip quiver.
These knees of mine
Experience tremors
No clergyman could contain.
A holy book has yet to find
The means by which I can
Be subdued.
She is my religion.
Her body: my church.
Her mind: my spirit.
Her love: my grace.

Why can't I just wake up there?
Why must I wake up here?
Too young to stay,
Too broke to leave,
Feels like all I can do is bleed
My bitter disdain for this place.
It's here that I slept in my car
Hours after becoming homeless.
Here that I was dejected
By soughtless dreams.
Here that I suffered a miser's
Misfortune,
Having lost my family.

Then again,
I found love here.
In a place so vile
She somehow made me smile.

Maybe things aren't so bad,
Maybe I'm just spoiled.
Regardless of what I want
Yours truly most toil.
That way one day
I can embroil myself up north
And stop soiling my clothes
In this lemonade sunbelt
Of a South.

Hollowed corpses
Left on hallowed ground,
Lacking the depth
Of what was once profound.

Rip my heart to shreds
As your empty words
Entomb me.

For your light is-
dark

The love in you-
tainted

And your soul...
gone.

Days of angst
Pursue me through
Awkward moments galore,
The hangover to my prior life.
Middle school bells ring
In the corridors of my mind,
Harkening back to a time
When sharpened pencils were More important than rent.
High school bells bring me
A cold comfort I can't explain,
I guess not enough time
Has passed for me to smile.
If only these tears
Could be wiped from my face
Without the slow hand of time
Quelling my soul's embrace.
Perhaps I'd smile with heart.

Sitting on a beach as the wind sways gently,
A slender palm tree moves as in a dance.
Reminiscing about each moment lived happily
As the panorama of dusk takes the ocean's lamp.
My senses, though numbed, are primed
To receive the night's embrace.
This evening, though young, burns sublime
Energy into our enlightened grace.

All of      
           My
                    Greatest
                 Wishes
                           Could have
                        Come true
                            If only I had
                           Wished For
You

Shadows that haunt
My sleep
Awaken the treachery
Of souls I've lost to keep.

Corrupted royalties
Disrupting vanities
Signal to loved ones
This mind is asleep.

Could be a year or two.
I didn't know her, did you?
Whatever I try to do
It's never true.

Speak from your heart.
Your words are rambles
At best.
Tear me apart.
Exit my life,
I'll be blessed.

Sparks of light
Emerge from the void
And encircle themselves
Around a phosphorescent nucleus.

Colors, green and purple,
Shine through the hues of watery darkness
As the traces and trails
Glow vibrantly in the black of it all.

Organisms and antimatter
Flow around each other
Indiscriminately,
Suggesting a relationship of unity.

O to touch such forbidden beauty!
To hold it in my pale hands-
It's enough to make one cry
Tears of radiation
In a sea full of death's water.

I've turned new leaves
From Brown to Green,
Yellow to Red,
Dust to ash.

A week ago
Was quite warm,
Cold didn't bother
me very much.
Now I shiver,
Not alone without
But without within.

Guess I'm dying.

Not forever,
But for now.
Not a new death,
But a constant one.

That's waiting
I do suppose,
wanting things now.
Expressing fickle desires
Through prose.
But your needs now
Aren't the wants you'll
Have later.
Those are never ones
You plan for.

A patch of green
Meets the burning red
Of my skin,
It's morning dew
Slipping through my arm-
Into the Abysmal
Inner-workings
Of a soul hidden from view.
Blue skies with clouds of white
Hanging drearily above my eyes;
Gazing hazily at the ocean
That is our gentle sky.
Perhaps we are like fish-
Only we swim with more esteem.
Our sentience something profound;
Lonely we sit in wait of dreams.
They, however, pass us by,
Shifting through the cycles of life.
From the deepest darkness
Until the morning light,
Their thoughtless will fuels
Their primitive might.
So burn out your wick
As you thrash about the sea-
Exhausted and melting.
Whatever fire you extinguish
Will let the cool water sink slow.
Then the sun will surely rise
As it always has:
Above us all, through mighty fire.
Permit the stars into your life-
They will save you from false desire.

I heard a song once long ago,
From some golden age--
It set my soul to simmer softly
Like an incensed leaf of sage.

Its melody was dark and sweet
With notes of olden sorrow;
The piano cried a hollow song
And took my woes to borrow.

Songs like this—
They’re more about what we feel
Than what the mind can glean.

In the end,
It’s loneliness that makes us find
Company—
Not our reveries.

A woman dressed in white
Walks alongside the riverbank,
Wailing.
As she wails violently,
A horseman with ancient woes
Of chopped thoughts
Pulls up alongside her.
Together,
They ride as though their mission
Is to escape the sun's torment
By running with the night.

You've built me up
Then torn me down.
Secured my cuffs
To bricks
So that I'd drown.
I've never been me
Around you
Because my loyalties lie
Within this heart of mine.
Can't you see
The wicked little world
You've created?
The deluded fantasy
That keeps you
Fascinated?
You fascist pig.
Fattening yourself up
Off the brunt of my back,
Then kicking me out to
Wander,
Societal refuse with their
Burlap sack.
Drifting off
Losing life
One little drop of pain
At a time.
This blood in my veins
Maybe there because
You made me,
But it'll stay there
Because I decided
To save me
From the cold
Razor sharp
Lie that is
You.

Picture you and me, alone in our blue GT, as we ride out
towards the ends of our suns looking for peace and prosperity.
The winds we make seal our tracks closed
and their fiery chill keeps all actions predisposed.
Our hair sways free as your hand takes mine,
my feet on the pedals and yours to the leather hide.
I wish this now could be our infinity
and that our hearts should be together for now and eternity.
The stars swirl above us as we swerve into darkness,
drunk on our emotions and feeling more than endorphins.
You say you love me and I say it back too,
there's no one on earth I'd rather be with than you.

My wretched little life
Consumed by pity.
Trying to open my eyes,
I feel the weight.
Why bother standing
Here in this blistering cold?
My soul's worthless
Anyways,
Too old.
I'm always shivering,
Constantly battling
Deluded musings
And babblings.
Maybe I've gone sane,
Maybe I'm numb to the pain
Of normalcy.

Pictures of who I once was
Line their new walls.
They cling to me despite
My enjoying their withdrawal.

Life is now so visceral
And I've learned to feel.
Their lies keep them high above me
Like a broken ferris wheel.

They can see me,
But I ignore them.
Their yells the backdrop
To my teenage reverie.

Those years are stuck in time
Like a long-forgotten fair by the sea.
Though they try to taunt me with sirens,
I'll never go back there while I stand free.

Holidays spent on countless charades,
Predicting all of your plays
And gauging all of your games.
You're driving me insane!

I'd much rather fry cheese on the moon-
Than see your face...
Anytime soon.
Oh how pointless life can be
When every reverie
Is infected by your dull surprise.

Condescensing looks descend
Into words written in books,
Like backhanded comments
Striking my face blue.
With you I'll never find paradise.

Now it's time to turn you off,
Beckon you with a drunken scoff
And eject you from my life.

Happiness is but a loved child
Lurking within the minds
Of the abused set free
To let their hearts run wild.

heart to heart connections,
warm embraces in cold moments,
reconciling our perspectives
& realigning each other’s focus.
—————————————————
tactful conversations,
with intentional devotion,
healing the deepest of wounds
& building bridges over oceans.

When the impossible
becomes inevitable
& all else seems to fail,
obstacles that once burdened
paths fall to the wayside,
making way for silent miracles.

You & I, united by
              the common light
                    of our fair moon,

          Yearn for more
      than a life ill-spent
   chasing gold doubloons.