A thought is ephemeral
It's only binding
Is that of the one
Who thinks it

A thought is a weapon
It is sharp
It is fast
It is as hot and it is indifferent
To those it strikes
Or kills

A thought is you
Me
Her
Him
Your dearest loved one
Your greatest enemy
No one
At all

A thought is the thing
You tell convince yourself
Your living for
Breathing for
Fighting for
Working for
Eventually will die for

A thought
Is the abstract of an objective
You know
In your hearts of heart

Will not fullfil you

Will not complete you

Will not finish you

Human beings
By design
Are clipped of our wings

We were throttled down to earth
We were left to die in the sands of the desert
The beaches and
The death valleys
We were born abandoned

Left only with ourselves

A thought is your neighbor
Who you smile to in the morning
As you get into your car

Grinning through the sludge we are

Smiling through the destruction

Giddy in our descension

A thought is a just a thought
As a life is just a life

What births a meaning
A purpose
A reason

Binding the sinews to the bone
Stirring the blood from within
Pregnant with that of two heart beats
Hot by the sun and never cold

Is action

What action?

You tell me.

There is no luck
To this

There is only
The work
The pen
The page and

The time

There is no love
In this

There is only
The transferrance
Of such sentimentality
That ends up being
More in line with
Ego
Obsession
Self-worth and
Self-discovery

Than
Love

How does one get off
This Merry-Go-Round
Of
Words to reveal truths
In
New and exciting ways?

How does one
Carve out their cave
In the mountains of
Society, culture, and time
Only to have - when and if recognized -
One wishing with those who fill it
With praise and their bodies which
Long for answers,

That they would leave?

All I want
All I realize I need
Is a room with a roof
$1500
And a endless supply of stamps
And notebooks

Maybe a scanner
For those that don't take
Hard copy mail

Everything else
Is validation
Is
Thought of reaction or reward
To one's efforts and toiling

No one ever said
Writing was supposed to
Gain anything for

The writer.

Society told you that.
Capitalism told you that.
The banal digital trenches
Of economics whispered that in your ear
With a self-interested grin and
A wink only winked by a philistine

I am I
And I am
Nobody

But

These words
These pages
These sounds
That ***** the recesses
Of the darkest corners
Of that voice
Only you, dear reader, have
Ever spoken to.

Listen to them more.
Listen to them
More often.
Listen to them now.

They speak not to intimidate
Or scare
Or plead or beg or cajole or
Manipulate or borrow

They speak to you
For you to simply know
You and you
Better and better

Let not the hive of life
The busying of truth
Keep you from looking in the mirror
Every now and again to ask,

Who am I?
What am I?
What do I want?
What do I want

To become?

Too long did I veer
Still do
Too long did I hurt
The ones
I held most dear

It is a nice thing
To speak to this place again

I hope to be back soon.

Communicate with
Me

Give me an
Image

Make me feel
Something

Through

Something that isn't
There

I'm waiting

What do I need
You for?

I'll do it myself

I'll climb the ladder
Down to hell
And dance around
With the devils

**** out

Making sure
My spit and blood
Don't stain
The white **** rug,
Careful round every vase,
Mindful of every hen
That may have gotten
Out of its pen

I'll do it myself
Watch
I'm doing it right now
At the pool table
With a lone

8-Ball and cue

Something's playing
On the
Jukebox, but I'm

Too blacked out

To know, listen, or care

Listen or care

That's a funny state
To never be in

To ever be in

To ever claim
To be

In

Show me something

I'm tired of
Doing it myself

I'll wait
I'm not going anywhere
Maybe the store

What do I need?
I'm sure I'm not sure

Show me something

Anything

Will

Do.

Well I know
Its a phrase of
A
Lover

Someone said
They said something -

I was listening, but
I

Wasn't listening.

Well, I know
It's haphazard-tazer

All

While

I'm making believe
With you

Making myself

See

Underneath a light post
Where ays the dead secret
Of a kettle
No one ever wished to know

A ghost rattles their cane
As the last known man
Says they, used to be something,
Used to be something,

Something

Sane.

Stark horizon.
Abstract reality.
Chasing nothing,
But a love
I never thought I'd get.

Nurturing love
Was a contradiction
Left for tangerines and

Cradled apples.

I am here
With you
And I hope,
You with me
You know,

I love you.

If that be my last
Attempt
For your hand.
If that be my
Last press
Of my voice,

I hope
Your grip
Pleads for palm
On
Shaked' grip;

**** in plead
Thee be
There be vacant while
Begging -

Let it
Be
It

Let it be it

Let
No carrier
Be

Universal.

Individuals
In love
Only truly

Rule

This
Land.

I'm a pressed idiot

Attending

No hut.

Patti told me I'm nothing.

I'm nothing.

I'm nothing.

I'm nothing

But Johnny

With Nothing

But

A sea of possibilities.

Lets head
Down that Road
That Road
Our Road
Your Road
My Road

I'm not here
But you are

You are

You.

I'm just a moving through
Though
Im
In love

With you

I got nothing
Baby

I got nothing
Darling

But
The midnight
Starling

That midnight
Darling

A Fragrance
Of
A menu's chance

At a

Real Dance

It's not alright
It's ok
I'm making up for it
It's ok

Listen
He was
Supposed to make it

I promise

You're his son

You understand

You

Under

Stand