I often forget the count
of the times when
taunts that pierce like arrows
have wounded me.

I do not remember if
it was once
or a gazillion times that
I have tasted the dust
mixed with the red of my blood.

I, however, smirk a little
everytime I fall to the ground.
I then get up again
and begin my fight once more.

I only hear people around me
singing along to the melody of love.
But I sing a song of courage
and the caravan of life goes on...

I wish you'd say something;

I wish you'd say the words I'm dying to hear,

I wish we'd talk like we used to,

But we won't.

The more I try to push it,

All the more that I'll destroy it;

A friendship.

I don't even know if I mean anything at all to you.

I wish I do.

But that's a request near to never.

...we haven't even spoken yet.

Here's to hoping it won't **** me deep inside;

"...hey"
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*"√"

The bird song anchors my soul,
Soothing any quiver of anxiety
Keeping my ship stable and steady.

Sweet shrills and cheery echoes soften my breath,
As my limbs gently fall to rest.

Innocent symphonies rippling through the air,
Offering divine headspace
Detoxifying unwanted bugbear.

I'm at one with the earth
Alive in the moment
My stronghold of calm
A serenity so potent.

No drug can emulate this untarnished moment of peace
A gratifying tension release.

So pure and still I can hear the rise and fall of my chest,
Like blissful waves lapping onto virginal marble sands.

Your construct is enslaving us
we beg and beg for more
trading life and family time
for that bi-weekly score

they will feed you to make you sick
then patch you still unwhole
all the while demanding payment
a form of death control

we borrow what does not exist
from whom we've never seen
try to fill that empty hollow
with California dreams

behind this clever tragedy
wearing the glaring grins
are statues cold, fashioned in gold
of little empty men

Bombs are falling in Aleppo,
the evil failed man that rules,
killing his own people,
Innocent noncombatants,
sheltering in their homes,
Crushed and buried in the
falling rubble of a dictator's
vengeful hate.

None but the volunteer
White Helmets digging
with bare hands to save
and unbury them, most
victims, irrecoverable pieces.

Occasionally, miraculously
some are spared and saved.  
Through these valiant selfless
efforts.

Oh Syria, you are bombed and burned,
while the world fiddles an obtuse tune
and turns its collective back on desperate
human cries for assistance.

My beloveds,

Please stop seeking me out
in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
In every evening’s masquerade, serenaded by dime store boom boom playing through bar room speakers

Release the idea that I’m somehow hiding inside of the lover to whom you’ve chained yourself, just waiting for you to release me from a hidden tower

I’m not.

It breaks my heart to watch your aimless searching, pressing up against writhing bodies, then torturing yourself with the notion that you somehow had the one that got away

You didn’t.

Forgive yourself the notion that your sole purpose in this lifetime is to seek someone with whom to share it as it only leaves you searching in places that I simply can not be found.

I am not the destination, I am the journey.  

I am not the answer, I am the question.

I will not find you the moment that you stop looking for me.  
I will find you the moment that you find yourself,
Somewhere along the path that leads you to who you might become 
should you begin to walk it

You seem to think that somehow we are playing hide and go seek, 
and that I am right behind the chair, eternally eluding you

But the truth is I am somewhere down the path between where you started and your potential, while you’ve not even left the living room

You did not come here seeking love.  
You are love and you came here seeking answers. 
Please start asking the questions. 
Who are you?  
What do you want?  
Why are you here? 
Why did you come?
What might you become should you decide to become it?

You, the all powerful, that came to human form, born into the maelstrom to learn, to teach, to be, 
and yes, even to love, 
though you knew that you would suffer, 
You have forgotten who you are and why you came

Brave one, made of light,
you don’t need to look any further to find me.  
You are me and I am you. 
And once you’ve left this form 
you will again remember that you are love and light 
and have never and will never be alone.

But, if only you could wake up while you’re still here, 
then yes, you could change the world.  
You would bend the universe.
And that which you are looking for would find you, 
undistracted, unrestrained, and beautiful, 
at which point I will slip my hand into yours 
and then you won’t remember a moment before I arrived.

Please stop seeking me out in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing

Your life is calling.  
Please pick it up.  

You’ll find me on the other end of the line.

Lost in a forest of purple trees,
buzzing around, green man sized bees,
stingers so long they wield them swords,
one just stabbed me, oh my Lord.

Swirling thoughts as poison takes hold,
darkness looming, pain untold,
blacking out for an unknown time,
waking, naked covered in slime.

No arms, no legs and hooked to tubes,
small gray creatures skin is smooth,
they have no mouths nor no eyes,
in my mind, I hear their lies.

Hums and clicks and pops surround
mechanical devices all around,
needles drive into my eyes,
screams of pain but all inside.

Mouth stitched shut no sound comes out,
although in agony I cannot shout
at my limit, I pass out cold,
as I wake up I feel old.

Safe at home in my bed,
all must have been in my head,
I lift the sheets and go to stand
I have robot legs and hands.

Screaming now I try to run,
out the window that's not the sun,
insanity looms inside my brain,
suddenly I'm filled with shooting pain.

Days later, but the clock says hours,
I get up and hit the shower,
feeling great and spirits free,
but what's this scar on my knee?