Suffering from keeping feelings bottled up inside.
Suffering from pride.
Suffering from drinking bottles and using them as guides.
Suffering from lies.

Suffering from failure, I've used one too many tries..
Suffering from cries.

A nomad in disguise..

Walking along the common folk hoping the tears dry.
On the edge of a steep cliff ..just hoping my fears fly..

hoping they spread wings, and glide over the plains..
pass thru all the Midwest and land somewhere in Maine..
Like....
Why doesn't my destiny manifest?.
I'm done living as an observer and analyst..

I often wondered why the dreams of mine seemed far..
Finally learning memories are more important than dreams are..

& thats word to the wise,
Though the wise will dispute my claim..
But you see, dreams come and go some never are seen again...

Yet memories, are stored, in the storage room of your mind,
Where you can see, your feelings played out though the brain is blind,
where you can nurture, and torture your own self at will,
where you know exactly where your skeletons are hidden and still....

Would you rather lose memories or dreams?
Perhaps i suffer from this dilemma, or so it seems...



Why not keep both? Asked Alexis one day...

A month later, the Fates music decided to play..
...
without warning, her life& dreams taken away..
now all i got is memories,
memories to suffer and pray.


-afj

Bound.
For hell,
Oh life is swell,
ain't it?
piece of art, tainted.
Convos with Satan,
Can you feel the cadence?.

Can you smell the melody?
Can you touch the tunes?
Can you taste the frequency, grab you some silver spoons.
Grab you a piece of advice, from the man on the moon.
Falling under the depths, ill have to handle it soon,.

Convos with Lucifer,
Lord of the Flies..
How'd he get my number?
probably family ties..
probably hearing the cries,
probably feeling surprised,
The light within me, forever will shine.

But for tonight,
i converse with The Anti-Christ..
Actually giving me some mad advice.

he said,
"I advise you, don't you ever find bliss..
If one day you do, you'll forever be ******.
Instead, stay in this chaos and revel,
Truthfully your bliss might become your hell."

How can you ask for sunshine if its always sunny?
How can you laugh at something if its always funny?
.......
suddenly i realized the ******* was right.
Only if hell bound, do you realize that heavens in sight.


-afj

Most schools have projects, in science classes and such.
Most of us, mastered the science of surviving in projects.

It's those at the bottom who need the most help, but cant even get proper school supplies.. where's the logic ?.

But oh, the rags to riches story is prevalent isn't it? Nope, the only rich I know is Professor Richard.

And that's not even something worth mentioning, he does more lessening than lessons lets paint the picture..

But these young kids don't understand, they try to curse them, place them in prisons, its a trap from birth..

Give them these Rick Rosses as role models, knowing they don't have fathers, instead of Tupac Shakur, showing them worth..

My bestfriend Tony once questioned his dark skin, just like i once questioned my brown.

how profound, a couple 4th graders at the time, having to prove that they were "down".

Crazy how Tony proved he was down, now i visit his site yearly on November the third.

And things aren't getting better, but nobody gives a ****, haven't you heard..

The prayers our mothers chant, ritually every night.

Praying to the Sun gods, perhaps one day we'll all unite.


-afj

I cant sleep,
I'm afraid that I might dream..

For most,
dreaming's common, some even have themes,
Some even foresee the future, some even have schemes,
Some have a plot and ******, even opening scenes,
Some even might get frisky, have you opening jeans..

but my dreams differ.
my dreams, are dreams, of the Tigris river.
my dreams, are visions of an old poor giver.
Old, forgiver.
walking along the side of the Euphrates with Hades,
go figure.

my dreams differ.
at times i hear the angels in the heavens as they bicker.
At times i see the time of my own death on a ticker.
click click....

I always try to slow it down. Its become a regular thing..
But the Fates are constantly pulling my string.
using it as a guitar, Such a harmonious scene.
Especially for a man, not destined to dream.

My mind wonders, but more so it wanders,
Its plausible that lack of sleep will be my demise...
But till that day comes, i'll continue to daydream, because my only nightmare is closing my eyes...

-afj

She never met her father,
And barely knew her mom..
Double shifts and nights out made it seem like she was gone..
So Natalya became Mom&Dad; at sixteen.
This is the story of a child and a mother turned a fiend.

I met her, whilst I was out skipping rocks.
But we don't have a creek, it was the sewers by the park.

I was younger then, naive & a bit cowardly..
But the sense that this girl needed somebody just clouded me,

So i asked her why she came around these parts when it was midnight,
where danger tends to lurk....
She thought about it for a second. Then looked up at me confused yet gave out a little smirk.....

All she said was You. You.?

She said she saw me last week, I probably didn't recall.
She was begging for some change by a bus stop in the mall.

I remembered...

But this time she looked awfully pale, hadn't eaten for weeks,
At least I could treat her out for a feast.

or so I thought...

She suddenly asked me if I could spare some change..
On some she needed to get home before it started to rain.
I said Natalya its 1 am, there's no buses or trains?
But i certainly don't mind walking you to the apartments by Main.

she said she had moved, and i'd be frightened if she took me.
I told her, trust me I had been to hoods that hadn't shook me,

Then she asked me if I had been to a cemetery before?
Looked down towards her feet and they weren't touching the floor.



-afj

Raised by angels
with torn wings and tilted halos..
But we walk the heavens head high, your only fallen if you say so..
Life as an observer of reality like Plato..
& like Aristotle..
i tend to pass the bottle..
as if the bottle has a message..
But the message is blank, 
So who do i thank? 

Hey, Miss Bartender I've learned nothing in my stay, 
She said come back tomorrow and perhaps your thoughts will sway, 
So now i'm a regular, Tuesday mornings and Wednesday nights.
Happy hour is when I'm most sad, but the pricing is tight.

Feeling like an old soul and I barely can drink. 
Just last year I was dumping alcohol in my sink.
get rid of the evidence, but some truths cant be hidden. 
A wise women once told me some information thats chillin... 
Brought chills to me, she said.

"Remember we were made in the image of Gods. So may your dreams be nothing short of divinity."
&Ever; since that bartenders words were spoken, I knew nothing on this planet or the next could limit me.


-afj

Her name was Paris, *** she never had been.
Tattooed wings of an angel, like she never had sinned.
Up and down the pole, the place reeks of Aspen and gin.
But she cant help her love of dollars, so shes keeping the grin.

Her and I, are more similar than different.

she undresses on the stage,
I undress with my soul.
she moves her body to the music,
I move the pen with the flow.

We both ain't getting rich of it ,
But the stage is like a rhythm its hard to stay off...


-afj