It’s been two years since I first met You,
and one year since I wrote to You.
Oh, my, how You’ve made me grow.
The toughest year I’ve seen has passed.

I suffered for months and questioned a lot—
I knew You had a plan, but I must follow through.
On the darkest night I gathered the little I had
and drank Your unblessed blood as I wrote.

Unsure of what was said, I went to bed,
and in the morning I found written gold.
The words, though, were not my own—
even more unknown was the character transcribed.

The path was now set to leave the forest,
the same unruly garden Your last blessed poet
journeyed from successfully so many years ago,
with my own Beatrice as my glorious guide.

But my Beatrice has plans of her own,
as both a Muse and developmental instigator.
She holds my hand as we walk off cliffs
knowing full well that I cannot fly.

I tried to learn the follies of Lust
and alone its intricacies eluded me;
but she showed me in an instant  that what we want
can wait, the good-willed Lust, the puzzle piece, and missing link.

From here I can move on again, slowly recovering.
Each new dream sets the stage of life’s chapters,
to convey the ideas I want all to know,
and to remember the power one wields with a pen.

Been on this forum just a short time
Found amazing talent from all kinds
Makes me wanna dub this creative flow
As the greatest ever, if you don’t know
Thus my admiration has been sparked
To write mad verses with a flaming mark
You are the ingredients of this unique brew
That I’m now calling the “Quintessence” crew
So here’s to the “Q,” your words have weight
More than silver and gold, ’cause you’re my mates
Here’s to the eyez of earth’s celestial Angel
X-raying minds to diagnose and become less tangled
Here’s to the fury of the beast, a.k.a. Animal
Ripping at the life we sometimes take for granted
Here’s to the western gunslinger, holla Pug
Blasting us with the creativity from them slugs
Here’s to the sweetness of sista Sara
Walking the mule as a humane barer
Here’s to the Feminine heart of a special Poet
Grounding us to reality, a toast from a glass of Moet
Here’s to the petals from the Y2K1 budding Rose
Missing the nectar to feed the bees and in those…
Here’s to the shiny armor of gleaming love, the Arhanghell
Giving us adventurous tales, ready to drop more coins in that well
Here’s to the food from the Miller they call Keith
Dropping them verses like tender, tantalizing beef
Here’s to the endeavors of the newbie, a Creator of Love
Soaring the clouds fiercely with the freshness of a dove
Other members of the “Q” are still missing in action
Hope you come back to be part of this elite faction
So this dedication will continue to be unfinished
Not whole, but waiting to be no longer diminished…

As I think what it bin ,
as I smoke upon this gin,
Keep on tryoin never win.
this game is lame this move is sick,
what way no where?
Oh-             what to pick.
Inhale the false fale ,
    so good gowin my luck...
          with *** give not a ****.
this road is so bumpy , unstable I'm stuck.
  on my own finally out of the shelter   dearly jesse mckush, <3

Judge me not for the appearance that I’m wearing
Nor for the material things I might possess

Judge me not for the casing that I was born into
Nor for the tongues I may speak in

Judge me not for the intelligence perceived by your eyes
Nor for the deafening silence I choose as recourse

Judge me not for the events that I had no hand in
Nor for the wisdom I’ve gathered from the struggles of others

Judge me not for the love that I burn on my fellow man
Nor for the hate I portray in charitable blindness

Judge me not for the meaning behind these poetic words
For I am merely a man who has simplistic dreams.

Round 1: New Life
Entered abruptly, this world out of the caretaker’s womb
astonished by the awe of unusual surroundings
so unlike the comfort of the nine month pacifier
images fade in, then out, and in, then out once again
feel this empty sensation, deep inside the belly
initially a murmur, then a monstrous growl
shall this need drive the emerging beast…

Round 2: Survive
Astounded still, by the incentives from the senses
nonetheless, comprehension builds mostly from stumbling
and the consequences of actions may honor or condemn
imitating and discovering, touching and tasting, the wants
hear this curious whisper, deep inside the mind
initially a hum, then a vicarious voice
shall this be the song of a destined course…

Round 3: First Love
Twinkled eyes, with the melody of hypnotizing admiration
wanting so fierce, the heart skips several beats
beauty so pure and deep, the skin becomes totally immaterial
can’t eat, can’t sleep, want to caress this haunting dream
but wait, maybe the feelings lack mutual perception
then to experience the piercing silence of rejection
shall this fear define the character…

Round 4: Nuptials
Exchanged vows, two mates to share eternity as one soul
to nurture one another with the food of selfless care
instead, demons from the spirit’s dark side arose
mistrusting and abusing, suffocating and killing, the love
no room, no place for compassion and understanding
only the refuge for a hollowed indifference
shall this be the start of a fragile heart…

Round 5: Bounce Back**
Continued hope, for the chance to champion a cause
to humbly honor the truth in self and in others
reckless to the tangible constraints weighing on the mind
to decease, to desist, the will to life’s tribulations
the blows come and go, a jab here, a jab there
striking with unforeseen yet uncanny precision
shall this bell ring in the final round…

I had a dream that felt quite like reality

To begin its tale I start with the day,
which opened the same as any other--
with my eyes fixated on a cigarette in an ashtray.

I put a light to another so he'd have a brother.
Hopping in the shower the lights and I shivered,
blanketed by warmth the cigarettes became a vase with a flower.

I faced the glass but refused the image mirrored.
No good would come from stalling to dress,
for a package, not mine, needed to be undelivered.

Soon I sat in a park with a friend and a board of chess,
he said, "You need not be here I know your worth,
others need to know you neglect them less."

Unsure what he meant, I still rose and went forth,
to the world of friends who tend to dislike me.
Back turned I heard young laughter and exited the mirth.

Walking in a desert forest, I grew to be rather thirsty.
I ignored the mountain lion that was out of place
and took shelter under an oasis's bourgeois.

Sweating in the cool shade, memory thought to erase
any action I took before I lay to rest.
As I looked down I saw a garden from space.

I had fallen asleep back into reality