Porridge be forsworn, the lemons escaped again!
If mules had rags, they would be plums, and not
A fig would shriek. In all dreamy pompousness the
Voodoo doll is a whimsical wine beggar in tips,
Before the cart of chocolate dairy pigs get a spank
For having left my wing in a toasting lower than
It SHOULD HAVE BEEN. And don't forget the doorknob
Has feelings for Mrs. Fairy-Warts, GOD HELP THEM
ALL!!! And moose, do you smell something burning?
I'll be a pin cushion, you've grown a flaming
Donkey's nose! Only three and five inches long...

If one is at an obstacle of an imposing sort
or with any other side step made, this state,
to find a way past each of these, in this life's
dangerous maze, somehow without mistake.

It's just that I've always stumbled
when I see that it's so **** far,
way beyond this side of the dark,
someone give me a way to find
the other side in the light,
if that is what it is, if this some
strange curse, a bad plight.

...or is it a greater truth?

Perhaps the "Gods are playing a trick
on me?" Or perhaps there is no way back
or forward. I look back at yesterdays
pain and see it's staring back.
Please.

Death is a visage we all put aside until
it is right there and there's no way
to avoid it. Just happen to be able
to keep running...unavoidable,
This and that. Stunning. I will write, I will
work, I will not hide. Eventually we all
have to face it, and sooner or later
we all have to try to fight it.
It's that stone cold that hangs over
you even with vices. They just happen to
be able to visualize a nicer tomb
than was waiting for you. I guess
that was worth all the human sacrifices.

They look at me with pointed sharp eyes,
Tell me it's all in my mind, I must be blind,
I look at the bedroom wall and there is nothing,
Yet my mind every moment is filled with so much activity.
I see this world around me spinning but slowly,
This whole social mirage keeps on changing,
Except when I'm drifting at night at my home,
Good or bad, right or wrong, but never once when
I was alone, was I ever TRULY alone.
They followed me this way and that through
The streets, called to me, scold me or made me laugh,
Vague clay statuesque devils or angels, I could not say,
But in the end you tell me it's all in my mind
When the night becomes day.

You and me, dreams fake, but all in all it's what is the take,
You and me, plain as can be, but we're having fun falling asleep,
Face first into the cake.
You and me, our hopes so free, but we're still stuck where we will
Always be.

So what is real? What is fake? It seems to you there's much at stake,
In daring to dream, daring to fly! Why not just grow old fast,
Whither and die?
So why my grin, why your frown? Could it be that your
Hatred has gotten You down?

It will be a long walk home, trailing turning, all alone,
Over my shoulder I hear your scorn, every day until I'm forlorn.
Every turn I feel their eyes, they never leave, yet it's always been,
Always will be that I'm blind, YOU WIN like you always would,
It's got to be *it's all in my mind...

There was a poet that people would find old
Boring and Stupid...then along came some up
And running smooth poet with all the sharp skills,
Namely-anyone but me. The finest poem by quill.

There was once a poem that people used to love,
But then it got old so they dreamed of a better poem,
One that everyone could find popular and entertaining,
Because the past-due poet was just old news, it was known.

But none could escape the perfection of the brand new poet,
Their poems were so great and it took only a few lines,
He'd have blown your mind and you wouldn't even know it,
The old fashioned poet, this hamlet, this macbeth, just wines.

There is a study of some interesting production
That says that continents drift, but I disagree,
Listen if you will to my theory it's of a sort
That is of a very different decree.
In the beginning a planetoid smashed into the earth,
It would later become our moon, it was larger at first,
This matchless form of damage caused a great impact,
From which would later be whole continents birth.
The lava that flowed would be enough to make
Whole parts of Pangea sink, and huge amounts of
Ocean would poor into, eventually be. But this is my theory,
Why when the damage was done the magma flowed
So much from such areas, it formed what is now the
Colorado mountains, as well as the whole of Australia,
Japan, and the Polynese. I know this is just a theory, but I'd put
All I have into simply wanting to believe. The truth is always
Out there, and this is simply what ideas that I conceived.

Without the scientifically intangible, we will never know
The true value of creativity. Once you see beyond,
Where we will all go, you will lose yourself in the eyes
That glow, you see yourself thus reflected in the driven snow.

See how I'll get lost in this game! I can't complain,
Chances are there isn't much time for me,
There is a whole world of trouble after I am free,
But then again wouldn't there always be?

So I float here suspended in this state I arise...whilst
Burnt coffee grind's smell wakes me, I will never again
See the other side until I go back and close my eyes.

This is it, the only way out,
Through the burrowed green freedom tunnel
Well-as I like to call it,
It's nearly ready! But still I have no idea
Just how much longer I can hold my
Breath, keep fail safe wit.
There is a way over to the other side,
It's just a little bit further.
If I play my cards right,
I'll be able to make it through alive,
Though in the end all I was in trouble
For was spilled milk and loose ends,
A broken youth and whatever you say
Goes, so I guess surviving or not,
It all depends.

*Welcome to seeing stars...

I am forever yours, before all time is done
I am the one who's there, cause my heart you also won,
I am the one who dreams, for dreamers cannot die
I am the one for you, so please remember my eyes

You were the one I chased, and always know I need.
You are the wishing daisy, and I pick off every leaf.
You will be in my prayers, your spirit's still my home.
You will be in my thoughts, no matter what they know.

I am still the raven, and waiting for my crow.

A place forever forgotten, the fresh rain on the grass of green,
Behind a backdrop of hills with the various dark dots of trees,
Before when rivers turned into waterfalls cascading down cliffs,
Rocky terrain and sandy beaches, lagoons, a backdrop of prairies,
The surge like a smooth endless steady roar, like a pulse, a rush,
Flowing through the earth's veins, becoming streams near where
We all used to camp out,  this life force, a flow that sustained us.
The middle of all greys and shades of blue in the skies, soft breeze,
A white golden sun streaming down gentle rays of natural life,
The laughter, the peace gone, but that's the price of our dream.

She hangs upon the ladder, looking out on all of her glorious creations,
This sun that beats down upon her, she cringes at the pain of it,
Stinging sweat slides all along the sides of her face of newborn nation
Grand things she has promised, although she would build a monument
To honour the dead who fought valiantly to protect their land,
Their new found supposed right to enslave.
And also don't forget their brave new world of uneducated
******, all-in-the family goodness, "un-needed" liberation of
Innocent blacks. Those unlawful ne'er do wells! She would fight
To keep them all to herself and her bidding, even to the grave!

*While in truth they have not committed any absolute crimes,
Like their ancestors-nor any reason why they are doing hard time.

I have a crystal both darker and lighter,
Just gleaming; like illuminated sparkling
Beaded droplets of water, with a healing top.
I hold it to my chest though
And it seems faint, almost
As thou all that light and energy
Is just for the eyes; it's vibrant heart feels lost.
There is a black and white pouch
In my box, so I get it out to put the crystal in,
As if for safety while it is still healing.
This stone with so much beauty
Yet seemingly vague, you'd think
It was meant just for the eyes,
So very empty. Like soft rain, the color of
Every rainbow comes from the skies light,
Yet you can feel oh so silent and lonely.
Maybe I could find a place for this stone,
Perhaps I'll put it with green and gold
So it wont seem so empty, so alone...

Various things surround in this dark room...
lost in the buzz of the whirring fan motion.
It slowly draws one into trance state, I'm like a
glow in the dark skeleton, silent darkness, and so on.
The forest path that guides us to a clearing,
whispered hushes and quiet anticipation
of the next story to be told, going from
one to another, a bead, white gold.
Starry skies endowed with crystal droplets cloud,
the moons face in the misty shroud. Woven by the hands
or fate, this way or that, the future can not wait.
Whatever this is become now, please love, set me free.

From some spell, life has changed. The darkness used to scare me.

The past
It's always on my mind
The grassy backyard I grew up in
This and that-memories of
Halloween, rabbits, fall, you.
All the things that pass in time.
I pick up this notion that
One may recall what happened to
Them when they were a young kid.
The balloons touching the ceiling of
My pre-school, the quiet time when
We supposedly slept but never did.
Like the color yellow, how I loved it,
The '89 earthquake, being shocked by it.
Songs in Kindergarten. Art, pictures, music.
Summer camp, exploring the wild, love, light,
And wind. I remember my brother
And I playing tag as the sun went
Down in the first house I moved in.
Running along the fields in the day,
Swimming, or memories of the
Tumbleweeds performance,
Being In the play.
All of the times I would always
Watch the sun on the swing as it rose
In the morning. I remember the vast
Wheat fields, a sense of calm quiet,
As if there were no place more peaceful.
Climbing my favorite pine tree in my back yard.
But one thing I remember more than ever
Was being on a field of my own.
The sky is filled with clouds always
Floating off like they
Were from an endless world of tranquility,
This warm sun, this was and-I forever remember
It to be-my one true home.

But that is another story...

I don't recall how long exactly it's been
Since I've seen your playful, boyish eyes.
The nonsense in me says to play it cool,
But I know I'm just a lie that only dreams it flies.
This is how love goes when the lights turn on,
But no one is or ever shall be home.
I'd rather be in hell dining on hot firey coals,
Then know how it feels to be this sort of alone.
To me you were precious sunshine that fell from above,
But never did that sunshine share with me love,
Instead I wound up in a world of pain,
I can never be whole, never one nor the same.
You still exist, yet the carrot before the donkey's nose no more,
For now, forever, I do not know when, but that's why I'll
Always be so forlorn.

This my darkest hour, whether by pain or pleasure,
I can never forget my feelings for you,
Try as I might, run for now and forever,
You will always be there somewhere in my gloom.
How is this possible? That one person can hold me
So close from so far, that I imagine their arms around me
Even with this my dwindling flame in the dark?

*...till it's no longer burning, going out, just a spark...

Aligned with all plain and normal
And love is a way of regression
'Tis your season to be frugal
For once we'll teach youth a lesson.

Always the flow of water-across muddy banks and
Passages into lakes filled with the essence of nature,
Pulling tides and the smell of alpine, hickory wood and
firn. Always the flow of life-ever passive, trance state,
Picking up speed it rushes, like the sound of blood rushing
Through the earths veins, towards endless vinyards and orchards,
Cascading over cliffs like sparkling mist, into ravines and it continues
On. Into the forest, into the pines and the sage brush-not thinking,
Quick to find solace in this mid-morning dew, this canopy, deer hide.
Continue to be cloaked by the grass and thistle, branches and vines,
Not stopping, ever residing in it-never looking back until reaching that
One point where it is certain that the past concrete, cement and steel,
Are but a thing of memories of tragic times to be kept so forever, never
Looking back, never to return or see them again until the very world ends.

Always the tide of stream water, endless in the universe, it's strength,
And it's endless source, that source, from which all life flows...

Would you attend a half-time funeral
Near the oak and pine branch at the cemetery,
Floral bouquet in hand, the last stand,
For the fool who dazzled in the light
Of dark, sorting through old newspapers,
Cigar in their mouth, unseen by such
That they remained happily in front of
Live TV watching the 7:00 news, amuse,
A vague smile, broken down besides
The window pane of a thousand tomorrows
Yet to come that never will. You will see them
All come, when they finally reach you at full
Speed, to end, to the same place you already
Arrived at in the light, and found the truth
Is not anything mystical or a fateful message,
It's ironically simple, life is simply life.

If I look back, there is always something so close.
It's a cough, a bug, decay, it's the essence of a ghost,
It follows quite near, year by year, the more I ignore it,
The closer it gets. When I go to sleep at night my dreams,
They seem to vividly remind me of this following "thing,"
The proverbial "monkey on the shoulders," It's quite
Like something that starts out soft, and gets to be mean.

If I look back, there it is again, this thing that follows so close,
If I listened to you, I'd decide not to bother with it but just
Throw myself into this daily routine, this job that we "must do,"
I could ignore it and let it build up, like an itch I simply wont
Scratch, I could pretend it's a mirage, a cloud out-of-the blue.
But do I ignore it?  

No,  instead...

It becomes my inspiration...the reason I don't care any more about
Your endlessly building needs or concerns.  
YES  I know you hurt, "you'll die first!"
If I don't reach you in time  I WILL  **be "sorry I forgot your pain!"
While I reach behind my own back and rub my own troubles away...

How often are we torn apart by love? Love triangles ruin everything fun.
How often do we get into fights? Arguements and of course I'm not right.
How often do we lose ourselves in blame? Now it's my fault, such a shame.
And why do we do this? Our soul purpose in life is? Will we ever move on?
Of course, into oblivion we fight with all our might to be number one.
When someone is happy, we make sure their work will never be done,
By pushing buttons we can make even the strongest fall short,
By hitting below the belt we can make progress the "last resort."
Why do we fall so short of love and honesty? And where did all of these "Perfect Winners" come to be?

So, the white man has come here, brought us "gifts"
Guns so we can all sleep less soundly, worried that
The stalker will find us in some dark alley-way,
Each one of these gifts are "perfect," "protect us" day by day.

So the white man has made his home here! He's got our "answers,"
He's made images and books that **** trees, needless to say
We don't need trees anyway, he's made houses that take even more,
His home is one of straw, will one day be gone but the scars remain.

So the white man has "aided in kind," he's given us blankets,
Blankets with all of our "needs met," yea we all don't mind,
Getting the small pox, leave this life behind it's fine,
We'll be better off dead than alive, but nature's deemed "less kind."

And all that I ask you is this, where will we be in the future?
We all know where this is headed. These creations are a lie,
Our lives and the land cursed with evil machines that will
Bring innocent life to an end, whilst men in vans take flight.

If you read it from the ******* book it's
"True," not just for you, for me for everybody,
We're all just here to waste, make our own sole filthy space,
What you believe is always "truth for everyone" and not just you.
No matter what we say or think or feel or know or do.

Go ahead
Leave me in the dust
To rot and rust
I am what I am, there is no denying,
I'm "not the one to trust!"
Give me over to the *wolves,
Don't help me lift the weight,
I grow "weaker" daily, while
I lift it on my own, *my soul "I sold."
How you gave it to me then let go.
I don't need others there to help me
To even do good things, I carry on
Alone, this is my battered tiny home,
But it keeps me here alive and well,
Still I scare others, garish scars
I must have been to hell! I got what
I deserved? Of course when you see
The real "me for myself," I am a fool
For "all can tell..."

*Place me over the spikes and let me
Figure it out, what's the matter?
It can't be so hard...!

Forgive me...
I have "spoken wrong" again, been unjust with my words
Forgive me...
I have been eccentric, I haven't followed your personal ideals
Forgive me...
I am on a path to the other side, I am drinking
this "poison" down, it will be my own "undoing"
Forgive me...
Somehow these activities have been the grease
which lubricate the "devils wheels"
Forgive me...
I am underneath all "normalcy," I have seen things
that the children "should not ever see"
Forgive me...
There is a path I have tread upon that bares your mark,
I didn't see the mark before hand but "knew better"
Forgive me...
You are the one! You will show me the way, I am yours
to ****** upon all knowledge both right and wrong
Forgive me...
I will always be in your shadow, I am poor but still
I have "spoiled myself" with work that is lesser

~You will never say two simple words,
they are beyond your comprehension~

~You the "mature," "wise" old one with years of
learning and "pure" precision~

~I am always in your debt, you never need me,
I alone make the untrusted decision~

The two words you would never say are simple:

*~I'm Sorry~

Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)*

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!

Bully the bullies!* If you feel you've been harmed,
You have! If someone looks at you wrong,
Break their neck! Others need to clean
Their act up! Don't need to apologize
Even when I'm the one who messed up
All along! Yes, it's a self-pity song!
You are in charge, you are the one!
Yes, this is the way you make due,
This is how you solve things! (All alone)
You always mess it up for me even though
You face this whole world on your own!
If by words alone I am "harmed" in my heart,
It's perfectly good (not vindictive)
(Dark vengeance, what's that?)
To go right ahead tear them apart!

For all who read (or any who care)
I may somehow give up writing but no one
Would be aware.
After dozens of failed poems-sitting all alone,
"This is it!" I say and promise I won't write again,
There is much writers block so at least I come
Up with something NEW now and then.
But who cares about that?
Instead, we'll read re-hashed garbage
And praise it like it's priceless.
People make me sick, because they're
A vain sort that bring new meaning to the word
*Foolishness.

I am a dog, I am naked and alone.
I'm not the only one.
This is it, my expensive 11 square feet
I like to call my empty home.
I guess there's something to be said
For this "stupid dog" who will never *EVER
Get to "see anyone" real but might just get
The lucky joy of being ******!

I normally like to write poetry
When someone just might read,
I normally like to feel wanted
When all I really do is dream.
So who cares what I think,
This poem will be short lived,
But that is because I guess we all
Know I STINK...

Well, I guess for this poem I deserve an E!

What is a poet without an audience?
When I write, I write from my heart.
What does it matter if it's torn apart?
I have to live with these regrets,
I never tried hard enough, make every
Last mess. I will be gone soon, you will see,
And no one in their perfect little world will ever
Miss me. But that's why there's the internet,
Fake modern life, to let you feel as if
You are free.

It's hard to believe that we were just
Feet away from each other at one time,
Your dark eyes and brown short hair,
Your soft voice, and my endless crying,
(Still in pain from that day you told me to
Go my own pointless separate way)
You and I, we hold each other so close
From such a great distance-in my mind.
It's just like they all say, love is burning,
My house is in a fire ablaze, I am so burnt up
Over you. I will watch as the skies set fire,
I will wait until it burns down every last
Square inch of this place of evil in it's entire.
There will be no end to my pain
Until this world ends or you and I are
Holding each other just the same!

I make a promise to myself
To avoid the past and think of tomorrow,
In the dusk the world is a bitter reddish hue,
Under this happy sky with people dying in war,
It's just what we need to make certain that
We will "make it through," with "endless" life,
But there is really no other way I'm told.
You who deface nature for yourselves alone,
Trash the earth we were given that keeps us alive,
Even then you eat off of plates of gold.
We are your fools who sit in the library,
Reading some important history about
"Non-essential" needs of love and
The glory of the way of tribes past.
Whatever I am saying-even this moment
I'm being laughed at far and wide.
I'm wrong! I'm stupid. Go ahead, say it.
We're going the right direction, leave no stone
Un-turned, let no animal in the woods hide!
You will still show me "perfection" in destruction
And death once I let you get inside my head,
If we are the future, it's already dead...

What would it be like to be in your arms?
How would I feel protected by your
Amazonian charms, for now only a time
Filled with worry, my darkest day,
I the song bird, long hair, big doe eyes,
Would you with your short dark raven red hair
Be able to hold me as close and not become
Lost along the way, become 'trapped' in the love
Or take off when we 'can't get any space'
Any other way? You always do remind me
Of a twin 'sister,' I your 'brother,' lost in each others
Complex similarities. You see the pieces are alike,
But when you think about the pieces,
The truth is there's no telling if I'll ever be
Close enough to explore these arms,
Your pizazz, your wild charms, so boyish, yet light.
I'll be waiting for you on the other side,
Where the colorful green grass meets what's
Now become of this endless wait,
This extremely dangerous, toilsome life.

If you want recognition, buy it!
Wow, I guess all of my poems are going to
"****" from here on, but I will still "post them"
Anyway, because they are worthy of their own existence,
And I've got nothing against writing my feelings,
Real fame is brought about by skill, not monetary expense.

If I had a dime for every time I've been judged,
I'd be richer than a king.
If I had a penny for every time I lost my dreams,
I'd buy a diamond ring.

I am told by others "just be 'yourself,'"
But your hair is so clean
Your teeth are so straight and white
And your skin is so soft and sweet
I could "never" be your "equal"
Your working life is "so complete"
People everywhere always need you
You have your own life, partner and home
All I am to you is some stepping stone
I will "never amount to anything" to you
And "that is why" I'm always alone
And who cares about me anyway?
I'll just "run back crying" like I do everyday...

I'm sorry I ever tried to help anyone.
I'm a tragic loser at best. I'm a mess.
I won't even try, I won't ruin your lives
Anymore, an*  *animal,  **I can never be set free,
I'm not anything, and not even close to
Anyone you need.

So what if they smoke ***? So what if they are different?
I love hippies, I respect them. It's just my way of seeing things.
It's not going to help to build walls, every bump in the road,
If you do score some ****** madness, you may ignore this message,
I will love you just the same! But of course I'm there down below,
Filthy with the animals, you look down on me and shame,
You're quite the "pure hearted" one for which we all must change,
So if I were like you-which by now I should already be-I'll take a puff
Of hippy kindness so my breath wont make you have to leave.

Here's my poem about stuff that happens
Especially when you're sitting there in front of
A washing machine bored out of your skull,
You've got the world at your fingertips and
Yet that world isn't really whole.
Of course it's obvious I'm only joking,
This is a great time to be "alive!"
Hug your computer, it'll be your
Best friend, your playmate,
Your GF or BF, it will be your
Sweet 16, your  toy your prideful
Joy, it will take you to places far
And wide and never leave your side.
HOORAY! We all get to die without
Having truly *LIVED LIFE!

No such thing as a past life...
Your past life is today. You woke up,
Went to your work, lived by your
Lot you sustain upon, and are then
Weary from your many partures this night.
Now to find rest and safe haven the green
Grasses await you, of your bed spread,
To rise again and greet life tomorrow,
The stumbling, the fogginess of waking
up once again awaits you, no longer dead.