I told you to Sunday sufferer
Stay in church, without the Bible
Lest we do not wish to wake up on Monday
And go to school
I told you so
Stay at home, this Saturday
We left our folks back at home, looking
For the same old songs, and dinners
We came back from the war and talked
More about the change, except the sons and daughters
Weren't there to hear you
Wish we could have pulled you out of battles
We could have sons and fathers, as one
Wish we could have pulled out of the school
We could have sons and mothers, as one
Sharing ideologies and sharing church-goers
Who learned how to be spring lovers and well-doers
We learned from the well-wishers and sufferers
And the scathing looks in the school, reminded
That we may have been the wrong color in this oak town
We shouldered our responsibilities, as the black of blue
Often, the shoulder straps really set into my shoulders
The bruises are worse when a person uses the wrong tapered leather
The belt is mightier than the gut, but, I detest them both
The guns of beatings and shootings, I endeth them here
They ring in my soul, telling me "I am a dead stay, inside."
They ring in the church.
I thank my brother, I thank my sister. I thank the sinner. Jesus has taught me the value of friends and family.
Jesus said, "I am dead, stay inside." with a soul-searching look
"If you can't walk. Crawl."

If I didn't have
Control over my thoughts
They'd me throw off the Mesosphere, in a ball of flames

We fall, we rise
We seek shelter, bite the dust
We ride the wind, and
If we follow the tides
We could see the end of the tunnel
O' more vividly clouds
Leaving the house of prayer looking like masters of war

Are we educated
To be better men
Or become terrifying educationalists?

We wait for no one
When we seek
Freedom, are we looking for an easy way out
Or the waves of possibilities wash over us in the time of our struggle
Freedom is unattainable. Because we are fighting with or without it.

Her arms lay beside her side
His ample time lay beside her arms
We held hands, he held them as his own
The right hand of the clock strick off another minute
We decided to leave the loneliness and minutiae
Premonition of repudiating our feelings
Amusement, and parks of recreation
We should be more like apples and less like oranges
That's what they tell us, as they compare our art
Some of us love the doctored fruits and imagery

Some of us hide in the fine-line of shadows and unbeing, just being shadows
I hope someone, begs to differ when seeing this serendipity

Will you land on my
Side of the universe
Or still, count the stars afar from a different galaxy
Looking a little out of touch with the skin
Opening up an eye, and keeping two closed
We could give you a magazine, but, it'd be nebulous
Will you land on my
Side of the universe
Or still, count the stars afar from a different galaxy
Looking a little like our Solar System, efficient and precise
Even if it is Newtonian, Kepler and we pinned out relativity
Mass and energy found equivalence, and we peered out
Of closed windows, and landed on the correct side of the universe
I still hear my mom call out to me from the house, that was a stone throw away

Their ****** labor
Told them to be happy
But, they were shortened to being gruntled

Can we hover above the statue
Are we too ******, or set in stone
To tell, that we are burnt into looks and musculature
The veins pop out, and the looks change my mind like beatniks that are careful of their environs
Surrounds, and scurrilous people inept about the very soul of scrounging around in the stone age
We might live and die in tranced places, and I cannot place how do we grab a hold of our lives
When we are secretly living outside our creation
If we burn the trees and live on the oceans, we could be Aborigines in the land down under

Shine on you
Crazy dinosaur
Now a diamond

Away from the holidays
House of Lords in England
Not by the earful for a brass farthin'

Why don't you hear when
I talk
When I scream, we don't see eye to eye.

A woman
A thinker
An artist
All bundled up into Nirvana
We all call false on peace, and nuclear war clarions

The divine owl loses its wings
From the light, is it nocturnal, told me some birdie
Doesn't it believe in the life of love or giddy talk
Or has become accustomed to the darkness, or clawed its a tree in search of taigus
Or has it become accustomed to becoming a nocturnal owl, has it found the dark or searching for what is light
Just like we all fight in the blind, and reveal our souls
We burn in the bright, but, this nocturnal owl told me it saw the light
The divine owl can take the form of anything
Maybe, even the rain on summer nights, loving with each midnight walk
We could see your divine owl or halcyon feeling, they are awake as that owl

Are you saying you
Can be my love
My true love, too

I fear
White ghosts
They haunt me like black people

Her fragments fell apart
Her time was short
The longest thing was the prison sentence
Full of tally marks, and wings that were burnt
On the brink of becoming fire and ice, and unbeing
In watery bushes, and shrubbery that hides in the gallows
Unfeeling like mires on the sunset line
Her hairs fell like wires, and the apartheid told us
She was meant to be broken, and even ****
Just not everywhere

An amazing speech
After Carmen, in the opera
Hall, half of them left the theatre, unsure of the noise
Maybe, it wasn't really a great speech, but, better operatic humor
Like my cat likes my dog more than me
We could twist and shout, and we'd still be able to think twice if we weren't bleeding
A charming smile and you were complete life of the party
Loquacious, and lascivious, let's be lacunae love

When I see long poems
I wish I could have the baby poem, that could be called
The baby elephant, of the free rhyme of trunks and truncheon things
Trenchant, but, unable to define the bacterium, unable to hold a trumpet to the music
We couldn't hold a candle to the wind, breaking the olive with ripe skins
The single utmost feeling that stays, are the vibrations of passed and silken-sheets, under which I read Candide
Books are a person's best friend because they can have offspring
And they can marry concepts, with their little concepts, and big dreams
I love living in books, maybe, I might never get out
A shirt to clothe my torso, and pants I forget in the morning
That's how I feel when I leave my favorite book at home
When coming back to school, to cool for school and prudent for impish fickle desires
Let's light the lamp, and touch the fire, instead of running out of wishes
Bring the inner child, and pass him a futon, pin the cushion and sternly commandeer the entertainment of subjects
Overtures of garrulous, and soundless promises, softer than the wind
Let's kiss the wind, I beg you, but, you can't hear me
Let's hope you feel me, in stygian love and permanent darkness

Will you climb inside my skin
If asks you to not move
Will you climb in my skin, with its diseased face
If it asks you to not to move
There's blood on the floor, and you can't see it
If it asks you not to move
Somebody, please tell me, how you're supposed to seal
Sealing in all the juries and adjudicators who were baffled by
Your unraveling love, like torn letters

You and my embers
And stars, seen as reasons
Of structuralism and dismembered screens
The language reads like meditation, but, the turmoil asks for liberty
Phoenix's rising outlands of different freedom and similar solidarity
Selling their dust by the pound, and becoming apparitions by the boughs

Walking down this road
Take me to town quickly
Ask me your favorite streets, and Czech colors
Take me where your rebellion breaths and your stability lies
Here in my life, is my road and the street of rudimentary life
From which we made more, out of love we proceed with deep strides
Asking for the common touch of Czech colors

We could read to the blind
If we could hear the deaf
Then, we could speak to the dumb

Pellucid curdled feet
Lucid readers, and revolution
Volition and asking for your breaths for diction
I hope to judge you by your footsteps

In the obstructed morning, a place of didacts
And pedantic passerby, and social vista of Perdido and ambient arcane fires of love
Perdition could be sensual, or superstition could be unsatiated
We could obstruct our cozy mornings with dingy dreams and bright cups of coffee, love's a new game
Reading books, and placing our shiny spectacles on the bass guitar, the coffee is getting cold on the plate
But, the table gets hotter, too bad the kitchen is too big without you
The bed is getting smaller, as I toss and turn, and dream of the real you is perfect
The dream of love and the idea of a bed better with just you, you make me collate these feelings and place my nosegays just right.
Perfection requires the right hand of time.

We could stretch
Our time, look at our legs
Tilt to the bellied fluttering of our hamstrings and heartstrings
Stirring our soul, and pushing out the sighs and pulling in the ties
We just made love

I'll look at your heart of rock
The stretch of highways, a treasure left for us
Telling us of the miles left for us, waiting to be walked
Too bad, we couldn't be friends here, on this road to heaven-sent
Road to redemption, antecedents look at us from buried stones and treasures, unless we cross the river of the Buddha
Maybe, I'm still extracting out it's meaning

The universe spirals
Unhinging, and awakening
Awkward time, between birth and realization
And before that you are dead?

I hope you have a good time
Good times, never lose you to time and tide
A man standing, or woman waiting
Can we find a balance, between two of these lovechildren
Waiting on the opposites sides of the floor, nobody moves
There's a water that crashes or takes the shape of teacups

Let's dream up a sky
Let's brighten up the day
Let's dream of a thousand moons, instead of solitary stars

Avid, amnesty barring the line
Livid, testing my honesty
Is honesty the hardest word?

Flying out of countries
Running into satisfaction
Atlas, and flying up in the air at night
Alas, happy with sightly inscriptions, and satiable highs

Cupid's arrow doesn't miss
Nobody sees, the naked lady woven
In the kiss, of jealousy and envy
Unable to make out the two, but, arrows
Make the difference, and silence the soul
There are only love and unchanging affection, steadfast

Cupid come down from your throne
Look at the weapons you've left weeping
Crying gentle tears, and ten-year-old boy fortified by the challenge
Mortified by the lack of reckoners, apple's lying cut in two
Waiting for the plastic love to cover the ****** up

Is it contagious
The doc' asks me
Apparently, I was investing myself in the brunt of the
AIDS outbreak, the 90s couldn't have been shorter

I'm flossing to save lives
Keeping myself
From the dentist, and the amalgam of codeine and cogent care, morphin' in my seat

I playing with
The idea
Of summer flings, before I knew a chick called
Destiny came along in the scenic winters, caressing the winds
My handles, and grips along the moonlit oceans
Tempered with anticipation, and precipitated with great
Transparency, I hope we find the same rock bottom
Or pulsate across the isthmus, undulating avidly under the
Shadows, across the reigning tides
Shadows, across the behind of the boats
Beckoning, to call you, 'gain in on this shadow
And a hand full of sand, and a head full of doubts
Like intelligent people full of doubts, and stupid people unknowing
I feel we might be on the right path or hope for love
Breathless, about our loveless lives, hearts take us for lightweights
This is the love-life of a feather-weight, caressing the winds...

Cruising together
These are some of
The words that leave the score, too many crushes
Can't keep count
Cruising through
Self-taught, and ignorant
I may have looked past a good heart or two
A bright face, an apple bitten in two
A half palsy person, an amicable snail
We all sail to the same shore, at different paces
Crushed, by the same love and infatuation
Indefatigable, yes?

Let us crease
Into some fashionable risk, do not rescind
Delayed, ardent and mainly fear ourselves and become indistinct

How do you take your tea
Please, add some sugar
So I can take a sip of sugary blocks, and stroked locks

I am alarmed
At the ghost
Of your past, it asks me to do things
I just don't like

You're a builder
Here I am a stone
Add your bricks, to my destitute lady

The alcohol drains into
Terse good praises, about the palpitating heart
A tense vein that is used to this intonation

A sewing machine
Left with the beauty
Of the maiden seam mistress, not sure she should be my nurse

I leave my problems
At the doorstep
Far away from home

I'm not unmade
And unashamed at
The seams of my part, that have been sewn together

The lost dream
Is lost trouble
That drives us crazy

Making life better
Running from problems
Would make living a spoiled adventure
Running for race wars
Would make equality, a double-edged sword
Maybe, we should move forward, instead of stopping to fight
Confined by our desires, and blinded by our faith
Sordid about our affairs, short on time and breath, heavy on luck

Hello poetry
Make the cut
In a world lost in time

You could be crushed
Or create something groundbreaking
I stand by my word, I move the Earth

Deities could be written
For us,
Looking at stone cults that know themselves, and judge the intelligence
That might come with barren souls, are we wasting our creativity for noise
When music, is the thought that relaxes and it also counts.