The spirit works in this dream
The sound doesn't come in your ears whenever you fall in love
And can't find your heart
Holy and lone, solitude is a rare and real bliss
The bed's too big without you, when I miss your art
I'm lost without you, I've found that in someone else's knowledge
Based this on fact, and fragments of the farther life
Farther than life, distant dream
Czar covering us by the comely cowards in colorful crowds
Knowing when everyone sleeps, because he kills them in their peaceful sleep
You're in my head too
I know you like the back of the left hand
Now you're out of my grip, I'm holding on to a fair hand
On the trapdoor calling for the sung blue, blue song for the black cannon

I set like a
****** sun in the summer
Sleeping when the day is dead

The road was winding it was something it never had
Love like a pedestrian came across telling me to leave fads and clads of Harlem Renaissance
Clutches of the evening cars were watching the scenery like the emollient evening sanctity
Clasps of the automobiles catching the stars too lost to fall from the cliff of subliminal fantasy
Gladly, I'm clapping forward untoward tomorrow is today
The story never ends, as long as it has a road and changes like flat tires like fickle women
Bouldered on the broken arrows of Cupid's quiver, stealing a glance across her shoulder
Changing the tears into wine, changing gears from behind such is the work of backstreet bromance
Street romance is full of plastic love, polluting the heart and the road too
The road was killing me and you, like a Scotsman in his kilt singing from hailing hills elegies
Snowstorms  and memories of lonesomeness grow cold when love brings the luminous light to the numinous ones
I wake up after all these dreams are put to a conclusion with drugs
Dinner sleep comes after afternoon, noon lies with the dawn
Drugs dawn on me, and it's already dinner
I've slept in the anarchy and chaos, afraid of my own thoughts
Sleep comes like a pacing sea, which you can hear in the darling darkness
Puerile cries, mewling, and puking follows life, or it can
I'm unsure and that makes me confused with sickness

Don't oversell your brothers
There are no crossroads for the sold desolate angels
Only open stores looking for empty looks
Heading out with open books with sealed mouths
For an only child, really drowning in books
Judged by the book, under the covers of the nights of a starry dynamo
We are trying so hard to be rash like rooks on a chessboard
We are trying so hard to be ourselves, ram on with the pain
We are trying out our clothes, but, I feel so cold
Not knowing when we'll be born again
Sagacious beams in your alley, friendly
In the streets of New York City, I don't know what I'll find
I don't what to do today, but, search for a stranger's smile
Kindness is a gesture, I cannot compare
Beyond this world, finding that true love
Warm my holiness, find your shine or get on your knees
Under the moonlit motions often coursing the comely coves
If you don't smile, how can you cry
In mothers
There lay no crossroads
Only doubts, the road is not taken
For a starry-eyed kid in the throws of life
I'm worse for wear, ready for fears
The truth dawns on me and shines on me
On fighting streets that can't live another day without doves
Waiting for the night or wasting the shimming starlight
On waiting for the son of a town hall looking for faith
Or a place to simply stay for the boiling soup
Don't oversell your brothers
To motherless brothels and cheap ***** and vain
Waiting for the son of a town hall looking for pain instead of faith

Wait for me once again, brother in arms after the end of the world
Your eyes are so distant, my sagely thoughts are with you

I joust myself into jovial life
Jocose tatterdemalion and stygian salaciousness
Umbrage abrogating merit like swamping locusts
The mammoth chip on shouldered kids starving for life
I'm waiting on purgatory, and I'll wait for you with knives out
Cemetry of the artist stubbed beards and pubescence in the Phoenician Lands
He said she should have left the house
Tomahawks can still cut the vineyard, make my loquacity into beer-tap poetry
Flowery, murmur, kumbaya, kalimba de la soul and all thoughts aside
You're hoping music brings the song to my speechless heart
Your dance sounds light the motionless night, only the tapping of starry footsteps
Hob-nobs, more and more, knobs of heaven's doors open to every hippie with angel hair
Crossing the wires of substrates
Sonatas and partitas can be lugubrious, yet, elegantly examined
Nocturnes, from the centuries

Of ten old centurions
Came down to the Colosseum
Gladiator enthralled the chariots of fire
I was with ten ants, burning under the microscope
Tenants of this Roman Empire

Fighting for your rights
Fighting for the people who cannot fight
For the weak, requires peace and understanding
Shiny, homeless people lost the soul to the drugs and marijuana smoke under streetlamps stretching to infinity
This earth is an orchard of flowers
Slightly plump in the middle, it's mother nature
Not zaftig, it has latitudes and longitudes
Lavish life, garish fiefdom, stretches across the bent imagination of perverse minds
Looking for a kiosk in the peak of red skies that do not know blood and aggravation
New Year's Day, the cyka cry Mother Russia and SOS
Shooting flares into the sky
To reach so low, and to reach so high
Shouting slogans, written by the poets
Passion, prejudice, sensibility, comradery these are metiers of poets
Secrets strewed across the bloodless sky
Wishful thinking tantamount to head in the clouds
The clouds have different shapes and size, the fire of the greater existence lends us words in thoughts

I'm heralding you in sin
My sights, years pass by in dim dins
Light in pearls of wisdom, oyster requires
Understated silence, clasping us close us to the theological brilliance
We are children in front of Goddesses and humble in the abode of idols
We follow our idols or surpass them, with love can fire up many and change a ton of minds
Chasing our sepulchral souls out of this freeway looking for a kick, and getting a couple of punches in the process of effable ecstasy
Pedestrians can freely run by the festering wars, happy that they are crossing the pursuit of happiness
Once in awhile, fiery and in disguise
Her eyes of crosses, and semaphoring sails signaling the end of a frothy journey, free at last
Tombed and gilded in marble and ancient stone

Jonah is still stuck in the whale
We just don't hear his wails, we just read about 'em in steadfast books
And hear about his cries in the houses of Saturday and Sunday
Going on colder nights, looking for the worldly life in the fast lights
Fatuous umbrage and freights fall into the beauty of intuitive love
I once had a photo, I clicked it and then went on it again
Heralding my sins, and making amends with my lost virtue
Virtuous and happy
And they say happiness lies neither in vice or virtue
Holding the Virgil to the light, and the ****** to the dancing dark

Closer to my body
Hugging me closely
Closer to my pulse, coursing my veins
These are my experiences, fuming
I guess you're out of the fire, lunar cycles declare a new moon
Finally

Hey, teddy
Bear can we friends or eternal flowers in a garden
Blossoming together with passion, talk about the passion
Words endow us, as the lack of them help us understand
Hey skull in the eye of the saint's shadow
Shiny stares, be my companion or femme fatale
I wanna shine without craning my neck in pallid scales
We walked into hamlets, cafe looking for love that was callous
It hides sometimes like a callow canto for you
A bit lost too, I suppose these are the inchoate creepers of fincas
What's the verbal cue when you're so scintillating and coruscating
Scaling forests with your vivid, vivacious looks caressing my hilts
No lie, you look better than a tiagus
A fruit from Cezanne's pears and the road is life
Baring suitcases, and battered too
With your dancing days and cold gaze, warming and thawing my heart out instilling blue

Got me on a leash, my by-lines heralded by the perfunctory hooks
Take me out to the freezing forest in neon lights of colorful minds
Tiagus and meritorious places in your eyes, climb on the grass
Mirror them with your coldness in the heat of your mind, the rogue looking glass
The mirror is beyond false compare if I'm looking through you
Mirror them and I can find myself holding you close, sunglasses with flowery spokes
She bent to tie my laces and dealt the cards too
To my child as we find love, I can tell this how we should write
Or well that's how I learned from ya'
Truth, my contemplations never end if they start with ya'
I tell everyone she is the one, she isn't unctuous or sanctimonious

By shedding our souls and peace requires understanding
Ain't nobody us understands like you, yeah
In the cusp of my childhood and keeping the nightmares at bay tonight
I can finally look at the waning moon come out after the sun dates the light after each stanza
Light of my life and the darkness of frolicking thing dancing on the iridescent shore of the frescoes of lithe la fille plus anime  
Having fun innamorata, or thallasophilia of the hills that have eyes
We can share the peak of the fire, and the icy handshakes are gone
The glaciers are meticulously melting in love
I'm still staring at the puddles

The memory of water, fuliginous orchards set ablaze
What are you waiting for, get in first with a blazing letter
Style can be introduced, and that's how I understand vermillion art
Hold you tight in my daydreams and the fire of my likeness
I love the heat of chartreuse and a campfire near a distant river of reflected dreams

Much better, if I limply came with roses
Hugging you tight in my wounded life
And bare our souls or becoming deeper
We can spend togetherness on this night of scattered starlight

In sudden heaven or sudden bliss, that's immeasurable
Either way life or living, you expand my mind amiss
The fire of my likeness, a visceral starry dynamo of minds
What's my verbal cue, when you're the Goddess of my ****** things

We speak in silence and hear the heartbeat
Silent because we don't deserve each other, probably
Assimilating these feelings is an immaculate conception and form-expression in one
You make me and complete me, halcyon I tell ya'

That's a truth stated in scientific truth with calculated looks
That lie like the fires in my coal eyes, although Illmatic eyes are brown stuck in moral kiosks of the midnight soul
The body that walks under cloudless climes
The midnight chimes with the starry skies perturbed
Le écrié drama pensée suiva
Winking at us, or we look at them once in while in emollient Earth

Little angel set in gilded marble
With your steel eyes and silken laid out
Stone body and sculpted dreamy mouth

And steel smile and iridescent grin
Steel wing end my life that shines like death in my eyes
Cut my time like erudition like a war in creation

A fire used to dance, now taking a vacation
I am in a distant dream looking for salvation
In rented apartments and stolen cigarettes and smoky billowing clouds of marijuana smoking silently
A cracked hip is worth a broken whip, this is no joke

We have puzzled hearts
That can carry able bodies with conviction
A hole in our heart in this jig-saw puzzle
Can we carry all this strength
Therefore, the ones who feel weak
Are they in the broken places or pushing together the pieces again
A heart can carry me forward and my mind can piece all this together
In the silence of a strong mind
Silent like meek geniuses unsure of their minds
Soon they will be struggling and weighed down doubts
The bright ones will make it out alive
A wise man can travel, and a fool is worse for wear in this stormy weather
Sticks for legs, and stones for hearts having a still heartbeat
Like pieces of a puzzle lying on a table altogether

A wise man
Questions his own ideals
A fool worships them

Like we use trees
For paper
A king is for his people
Patient in affliction
Faithful with gratitude
Seraphim in his affection

Life can be made colorful
If you can be nice
About abolition of slavery

The strongest people
Shine the brightest
In the darkest, and shy away from the light
The shadows fall on trees
Opening pages from the canopy
We cannot see the age of these trees
Only their shadows in books of knowledge and passion

If you're cute
Join the military
If you're cool
Become an academic in a sheen of a classroom
If you're cold
Become an apartment in the bulk of extravagant Manhattan
Either way, you will drip like a sea from the ceiling of a submarine

Pea soup with Mr. Peabody
Have it as a delicacy, earnestly
Crush my pea heart made of solid starch
Mea culpa and moloch horridus among us
Keeps circling around, hopping around us
Like stars in our pocket
Hoping to join the starlight
Things seem to coalesce
Following the inner moonlight, and hiding the madness
Like pea soup on my burnt tongue, touching little by little

If you are convinced
A phlegmatic mosquito cannot change the world
Try clapping around them instead like chasing cars

We are similar beings
We dream of the future
And live in the past, asleep presently

You count the buttons
On his shirt and the eyes
In his closet, as he has a suit of many colors
Like a bird with a ton of rumination
A man and no imagination can never be rich
A man with courage has a soul that can never be poor
He just gives himself to social shambles and eccentric people
Redolent about his hysterical naked self
I seem to forget that childhood was filled with punishment
That turned into a crime, and my soul healed by being with POW
Or the children of war and the creed of a generation
Seemed to hear the elevator muzak, and left me linked to the radio
Tombstones couldn't scream, and the sheer shrieks of podiums resounded
Children were starving with hunger whereas they should have been assigned shrinks
In his closet, there were many skeletons
All them starved to death, and funnily they wore gregarious looks and suits
Constituents of an open book of spells
Changed its text with each levee flooding the Hell gates
Of lawmakers, the conviction of suicidal souls
Someone killed himself again and saved by the tolling hell bell
Heck, I could write better than this, and **** the freewill
Heck, I could call the man on this and ask for the rights of women and children
Heck, I couldn't provide for my own children and heal the heavenly souls facing the hellish war

In his closet, their qued a ****** questioning his own wit

Like a woman in the storm
Wilting in the mossy lakes
Streams of tears stop suddenly
Wishing tumultuous flowers
Following her mother to her grave
I hope the river flows in her
Indolent, sloth, languorous lapping
Rivers left this sea, shoring against the tides
Of shapeless water crashing against razor ravines
Her love stood the test of time by following the river
Drenched by the moisture of the sea
The crow wishes fallow, callow women can wash away
Tomorrow begins after today
Sorrow ends today for the wishful crow

Waiting for you in the same way
A needle in a haystack
Hopes to bring silence, pin-drop silence

I am afraid of words, because when
They are written in perfect harmony
They can create anarchy and chaos
Like when they say blue is the warmest color
Reality comes in different shapes and six sides
Starry lights on meritorious skies, iridescent smiles
Winking faces in the twilight zone in hand-counted time

Come together
In silence
Or never speak again

They say change is real
I hope I can survive the night
To live another day to see Haley's Comet
The night isn't complete if religion isn't right

I want you
To let your love come shining through
Because I share the same feelings as you

My father was a monster
In my closet, under my bed, inside
Never near my beside with a nursery rhyme

A woman so tired, so fearful of
Leaking water flats, and tireless nights
Still, my pieces of music do not interest her
She can think for herself like chemistry in a beaker
Kings in open battlefields handling a hundred men
Queens at palaces handling a hundred mistresses
My pecker hangs in the wind like a red hot chili peppermint
Tirades and waves of relief wash over me and in my mind

I live
He stares at me
The stars in my eyes burn crazily

I didn't know he could do that
His eyes were hungry and so close

You planted
Wildflowers
In fields of sorrow

To be alive is a crime
If you are yet to be punished
To be dead without crime in a mortal coil

Satirical Steinways, we were free ***** on piano toil
Writs, bills, frights in the proceeds going to poverished oracles
Impoverished by the diligent working class for the polity

Living in the city, politics putting us in the governed cells
Freedom loves, seek the whole motivated world on shiny stakes
Start stamping your immigration papers or work in the metallurgical

The humor of passionate egalitarians, everything is equal that sells
The drunken man sells his words in dollars, crumpled heaps, Schopenhauer on the doorsteps
Looking at the rabble with a thin eye and searches
Through thick and thin
Through fat and skinny
Through shallow and deep
Through jejune and adult
To be dead is a life worth living

Similar souls are apart
Worlds are full of words
Connecting us like glances

Antediluvian animals believe
In the ark, gripping tight to the floor
Often, getting splinters in their paws
The hooves are behooved by the floods
Befuddled by God's idea of puddles

It was a freeze-out, we reflect on our glaciers and icy rivers
Our pride was dying and lives were alight, dreams are memories without prize

I whale for swimming soles
I crowd around fish in the sea
Swimming with the birds on the levee
Being human or a monk at ease
A fly can fly and bees sting
Butter flies in the stomach
Or slides little like weird fish food

Twelve monkeys at twelve
I stopped counting the robot cranes
Flamingos with cross-eyed lives
Scared of the swimming souls with feet
That's why flamingos keep their feet up
In an animal farm for lazy pigs
Being fearful is not wrong, being unsuspecting is

Fish aren't meant too climb
Monkeys aren't meant to swim
You read the first line right

I walked in the door
I asked, "What does it open to?"
He said, "Another room"

I walked in the door
There was a crane
I asked, "What does it open to?"
He said, "Another room"
The other room was empty
Full of rubble and broken words, like an elephant in the room

I asked, "What does it mean?"
He said looking through another glass
I looked through the glass door

It opened up to a variety of disasters
And the animals in my mind counting the leaves on trees
Wrecking us and hanging on our minds
Eating us alive, the doubts
Bothered his soul, and my body was tired

You see, we kept craning our necks
Looking for someone praying in the house
Someone, lay on a mat praying to a crane and asking the elephant to leave at the same time

When I sleep
My thoughts lie awake, and he hasn't said anything yet
Telling me to breathe, or stop dreaming

I'm losing my reason
The thoughts are alive like wilting flowers
The dullest seasons are the brightest when the time waits for tides

I never thought about it
He didn't know what it was up to
Before, until now
I light my own ways and close my own doors

We are like open books
Staid and impulsive at the same time
If the shadows of people were pages
Their leers are open books

I wish I could take a page from your defenseless heart
Then I'd have caught a falling star from infinity
Indemnified by eternity and I wouldn't think twice
I doubt that confidence is the means to an end
Or the self-determination is the way to begin this art
Start from the beginning, and try to sleep with a mosquito
And change your sleepless nights, into claps for exchanged for slaps
Stop dreaming, start living
Or we can least breathe, you know if butterflies flutter

We couldn't help looking up the skirts and skirmishes
Although, the thoughts were kept aside with integrity
The drinks were at the side of typewriters, like hanging women
Blowing some soul into blazing thoughts with some dignity
That would have burned themselves on free streets ransacked by religion

I can hear it in the streets
The mind is trying to touch my fears
Instead, bravery is enslaved by people on their knees

The daylight hits the streets
The vessel of fallacies of thousand miles
Understands when I need to leave my current path

I'm on Kansas streets
Looped in streets and taking roads that will change
Like I hope that you will change, but, you just get angry

We never get anywhere with this fighting without culture
A peaceful instance isn't culture, it's a shot heard around the world
A sailing soldier on this endless river, we never agree

I could not control
My hunger
My heart's gone cold
Nothing's gonna change my mind

The depth of disguises
My foolish pride will not change my life

I could not control who I am
My rights and life which is one of captivity
My life will stay the tides of ants and I'll like to keep
My ideas in the chambers of ligature marks

I am left with an anthill that never moves in the motionless fan
Applications of killing and impressive stories
All under a microscope, when will I free my mind and apply lessons

I could not control my anger
My strength and learned much will do
They can find their way to love so I don't burn

Watch my struggle
With words in this poetry and they tell me to house my mind
In crooked paragraphs and silent verses burning

I drank so much and wrote
I had to quit writing
And start fighting wild in the mildest dream of ****** freewill
Like a candle in the wind, crazily dancing like flickering imagos
It got worse when the roof leaked and the coruscating light died

I followed you down the circles
Of free skies that breath wind
A man without ambition has no wings

A person who repents
Holds too many regrets
Has a small heart unable to express himself
In chaos
Some of us find a road of valor instead
Of opposition to our expression
We seek to be ignorant
When we should be brave
We hate cowards
When we fear that our heart
Cannot accept everyone
We could at least
Work on our fears
And help others understand the courage
The will is inherent and if we understand the risks
We could have substance in this chaotic world order
Some of us never return from our journeys
Some of us never wish to either
That is the story of faults and flaws
We get hindered by plotting out holes in each other
Pushing one another in the game of life
We should have counted the cowards instead of the *******

It's not that I don't
Like being myself
I just cannot see myself
Without you and I won't

He was blessed to be a survivor
He found his home
In the recesses of his mind
He had no home
He had no mother
He was self-taught

If only someone told him
What you think you become
He wouldn't be homeless

Many of us really do not
Like writing for fun
So we try our best to have some innocent fun
Expressing our adulthood
In the cries of the night

Some say it's the moon
Some say it's the moon
Some say it's an eclipse
At noon, we all sleep under the brainchild of God
Truant of the pernicious nature of the Sun
And innocuous nature of the moon

Many of us really do not
Like traveling for fun
So we try our best to have some innocent fun
Expressing our riches
In the cries of the night in the arms of a local stranger

Some say it's harmful wine
Some say it's trusted wine
Some say he's well endowed with the same perception
Call it similitude, we border on the art of crying souls
Flourishing their wands at the slightest presence

Many of us really do not all this magic
Try sleeping with your eyes open, and you'll find the beauty
Of closing your eyes to the blue moon that will soon turn
I do not hope to turn

I sat in the ****** mystery
At the end of the book
My jaw was left wide open, sitting on the empty witnesses

I'm stuck
Please get me out
I like living with my sons
And daughters in magazines
Please release my terse rhimes
In the clutched dust of dusky hands
These days look like blaring dreams
I might die in the connoted fires
Looks like I'll stick myself with icicles
Ad veritas to my journey
Quote greats, and veritably drink wine
On the rose minds of hysterical naked souls' bliss
In this merriment of nubile nights existing in a tinsel town
We are dreaming up Kansas from the broken covenants
I'm stuck with bullish promises
Show me you care for my truancy and lurid face
Probably fondling your hands, and cupping steam
In your spectacles of crystal haze, limericks in your case
Studied by pianos reminiscent of sleigh bells and bobsleds
Hanging lights of ebony and ivory in the cars of piano men
Slowing dancing in the burning loops of tropical Capricorn
Morning sunrise haikus cold as November, sorta' short like Indian winters

If I walk on the first floor
The first room on the right
The third eye hears you on the left
We are looking at stormy weather on this island
Where there are two doors for lovers

One out of the other, surrounding us
Inroads and blazing highways culpable temptations
We are no stranger to choosing the next door
Being the strangers to reality as she asks Hera
Life is full of opportunity and misguided destitution
Isn't this astute, that we yearn for the thirty seconds with stars
And wait for weeks to fly by, when midnight
Will arrive on the cold winter mornings, the nights are brighter
Surprise us with dawn on the petrichor of Satryichon
Depends on which tree you're climbing, and which room you're zen in a lassoed sky
Where there are two doors for lovers, their dinner party
Instant pleasure, crushed glasses, pure rear-ended folk looking for an angry substitute for passion
Prejudiced by the mad sages, we never listen to the sense of old men stuck in cages
Fearing their umbrage and sensible confabulation
Every poem has to have an ending, this one does too depending on your sterile entry
Wound by pride, bound by prejudice

I'm definitely going blind
I read the news and hear of pride
I'm proud of our undignified children
Placed in trenches, digging ditches
For the lost children

He calls us to hear the daily radio
The rest of the stories can be heard
In inscribed halls present in the colorful doors
Term ends, and a new semester begins
For the lost children

I'm definitely going blind
But, this might be the state of mind
In an educating time of hippie culture unabashed bashing each other on the whiteboards
Graffiti writes itself gracefully, subways travel like suitcases
These people don't belong here
For the lost children will never be lost again

If you aren't certain
That your work counts
You're in the wrong line of work
Your fire might die out befallen
Buttress the iciness of your handshakes
The curtains fall on your face before you make a name
For yourself in the curtain call

Cleaning washboards
On the back of my president lane
I am the reflection of a world
That was once ours
That died when we lost faith in the system
The centuries remain the same
I'm a dead president still alive
The song remains the same
"Hang 'em"
On the bloodied walls of underground thoughts
Life's do or die, and the washboards lose the cut up bones
A dog dug the ground and hid the frenzy

Dig sally up

We are looking
For people to complete us
But, can we accept the truth

When we look into ourselves
Deeply
We realize everyone is trying hard
How can we look into ourselves
Without realizing
We are at war with our souls
How can we ask for love
When we give suspicion
In return for friendship
Look into yourself deeply
If you hear silence
You may weren't born with a soulless voice
Sleep on this, or wake up and apologize for being sentimental
About your life