Every ambition I fought through the night
At the time, in my head, was a valiant fight
As onward we waded, led I in the recite:
Somehow,  some way,  after this pain is delight.  

But as evening bore down just short hours ago
Dawned clarity I feel perhaps the last to now know
This isn’t some garden where jack-**** will grow
Instead line for slaughter, only pain to bestow

I became selfish dizzied by desperate plays
To justify to myself, to you, all the days
Where somehow deluded enticed all the strays
And for granted I took each of your earnest ways

I don’t know what I became
But tonight I don’t see things the same
I’ll remove the monster I can’t name
By destroying that which I can’t tame.

I met you in the first moments of the last year of my life.
I've come beyond my worst pretense of fear inherent strife.


I've been waiting for fifteen, for the past nine years
Passed berating what I'd seen til at last conscience clears.

watching the sunrise
surprise me in the evening
i can't evening; realize
potentially what personifies

you or your taste
upbeat and outpaced
we meet and i faced
just 5 feet
google street-
view i felt at home
then i knew i yearn to roam
outside of pixels confined
his wide grin as if was designed
to remind me
love will find me
*
can't can't can't
important out
conformist rant
erased wry pant
replaced i grant
we chased, we chant
prefaced, we shan't
displace on slant
onslought instant
distraught recant
enchant wrought on
our rotten re-plant of
an antic talking frantic
infrared entranced romantic
instead transcended semantic
exalted assaulted tantric

talk sick
balk pick
stalk trick
**** quick
lock click
shock strik
flock thick
block brick
rock stick
walk kick
stall tick

Where is he?
He abandoned me here.
They take me outside and the leave me in the cold.
It's my only pleasure in the day.
I need someone with me.
Do you have any idea how lonely I feel?
Do you even know how alone I am?
Where is he?

Years that before
Mercy neared close enough
That the blur of the scene
Disappeared in the rough
So unsure what I mean
Or where would i reconvene...
And with whom?
When we are were we are
where they are there just to consume...
Everything they could.
Selling off everything that's good.

From that blinding white clear disaster
I thought I must fight or I'll rot even faster
I fought so I might keep from finding
I'm not really right and what's left's just reminding me how  
High I shot and now why I forgot to keep track what I bought that I caught up a lesson I set out too taught

I hide behind the screen and deflect my doubt with laugher.
so you close the lid, your lids, to thoughts like, maybe there's something to look forward to if you keep looking ahead.
maybe if I don't surrender to mundane or settle for expectations I will have a reason to keep looking ahead.

maybe the fate that has been nagging at your feet since you first stood,  tugging and pleading you listen,  
      no, you don't understand,
       This is bad.
           this will end badly.

I know, but I'll know when it's starting to get bad, and I'll stop.

There's no harm in enjoying until it becomes a problem, right?

But the problem doesn't manifest elaborate overnight. keep waiting and "enjoying" the missteps...."while you can" before it is a problem.

An then you don't know how to escape.
because you unbranded the ladder while killing time, t distract yourself from having to accept you're wrong.

You're in over your head.

Nobody can save you,
you cannot save it.

I'm so ******* dizzy from remaining in one place
while the world thrashes around me and collapses into space
it's a wonder just how breathless i am left when the whole race
i ran immobile unsure whether to flee from the life ever-giving chase

I like the little one.

They are ready so if someone
Comes down here, and says
they, I, well,
would like to see what youve got
I may be interested in them,
in buying some
I'd say, well, sure
so they can look, and see if there is anything they want to purchase.

And they may decide it's nothing they want,
maybe they don't have anything with them
I won't take that
and that's fine by me.
I like the little one.

We made sure t have them all be different
i said, what'S the point if they're the same
I have three metal ones
Can you, well, make sure they are
so nobody will knock them over
so someone can look at all of them and
they won't break.

I got those bells because I enjoy them.
I used to place them around the house so
people could enjoy them
they are in that so people come down here, They can see.

they meant something to me, but nobody else.
and that's fine.
well, if it means something to you, that matters
Yeah.

Descending kind of flight
Of thought
Associated free
Comprehending blind of sight
We sought
Delay of anomie
Pretending find the right
Forgot that
Which we can't agree
Defending lined the fight
That bought
Every hidden fee

May where once
      was a tomb
blossom hope
       in this room
                    to resume trust
                    to consume us
       in the peace
       by the warmth
of this bloom

Somewhere deep inside, in places that remain unseen
I feel I'm rotting away slowly, in the places I can't clean
and I don't know why I can't translate what I feel and what I mean
into words that you could understand.
Each time I try, I betray my right hand,
and have to realize that not even I understand.

Why I can't come forward, it's as if I'm not allowed...
but no such thing is true, and I don't know what keeps me from saying out loud,
and I just wonder if it is only me,
and if this means this is the person I will always be.
I still don't know if I believe there is a thing like destiny.

Somehow I feel *****, deep inside, I cannot change...
even though I wish I could, I cannot reach that deep, it's strange
and if there were a place that I could go in for a soul exchange...
I know I would; but since I can't, I guess at best I'll rearrange

Each time I try, I betray my right hand
and realize not even I understand

Eventually you may see what you politely termed, 'ambition'
might by others be conceptualized, 'condition'

I'm just

I can't feel my lips
on my face
so still
i cant move them
on their own
i can't tell if they are parted
i can't tell if they exist
i can't feel my hips or
my feet, or my lefs
i can't move them
i can't feel them

i want to break
i want all of the confusion, the disconnectedness
i can cry

but i can't escape this
and i can't can't escape this
there is no break

a million scattered shattered steps
stood stunning
chameleon flattered

I can't move.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6n_z-FdEkw&feature;=youtu.be
^unlisted

Along the way
Some steps I've missed
Still long to say
No, I insist
I'm wrong, but they
Consider this
First stone to pay
Rehearsed interest

Why turn on the light illuminate the beast that's here?
Who stirs beyond the softness of the focus so unclear...
Condensing on the hairs sprung straight from necks the breath so near
And if i light it, we ignite it, I haven't ways to fight it, giving sight to insurmountable fear

Why, given these winnings, are you compelled to defend…
Where I live in the beginning that lies at the end?
To die driven and spinning, far too fast not to pretend…
Decisive will the sinning burn a lonely man to blend?
When I live in the beginning that lies at the end.

It's like I've died
And I'm trapped in a museum

Mister lonely

Narcoleptic storyteller living the dream; it's a ******* nightmare.
Dark eclectic gory hell or giving up steam; watered luck is right there.
Appear today; drawn tomorrow
I could tell which words you borrow
Inconvenienced shades of gray
Eighty shades of sorrow weigh
today, which way to say,
I will stay here when you stray hear
they may play fear, bray they pay dear
Ever listen on to bold tomorrows.

What came about in a time of wandering.
The consolation  getting  me by was
     knowing  it would  end,
I could  go back
  I could  go  back  to how it was
    I could  go back to how it was when I remember  happiness  
      I could  go  back  to  how it was when I remember  happiness  
           although  the time,
     then,
     was not.
Coming home to where I am safe
and where I can  be  anywhere  but  here.

I got by in dreaming  of stories  to  tell  
that  reflect  where  I  have  been,
where a path of solitude  crossed  theirs
and voice  where  I fear  most  in going.
I busied my mind  in the folds of the concepts,
and I was not afraid.
I came to  where  I knew I would  
but still I can't  stop  wandering.
The house  is here, and  I  am  inside  
but both  of  us  are  empty.
I know  the  stories  that haunt these halls
even  though  I could  lose my mind  entirely
wondering  what they mean.

Is it common
Am I lazy
Am I standing  in a place that never  existed  
and if I exist

why.

I am  losing  the  grip of
whatever  it is that  actually  cares  to know,
if even anything  is worth  knowing.
Insight recognizes a pattern
I never will  find where  it is I am going.
I ought to just stay here, soon it will be snowing.
I'll  wait here.

Closed off, abandoned, derelict, haunted  
DANGER: DO NOT ENTER
             you are unwanted.  
I guess let it collapse  
   on its  own; we can't  pay
for demolition  faster
             than natural  decay.

If you  visit  
   it is to test the
   structural  integrity,
else to marvel at what could  have  been,
pontificate  
   upon  why she
    is what is left.
Or theft.

I wish I could  collapse  into myself
   to be consumed  within
      the black hole in my chest,
so that my lifelong  companion,
   loneliness, cannot  follow.
             It is where
             it is nothing
and where nothing  may follow  as a guest.

Hard to believe but I cannot deny
what you give, you'll receive
all your friends are a lie.

Breathless, I sat silent as each word formed on his lips
and from his tongue, took flight; floating in the air
to find their way straight to my heart, and burn like acid drips
leaving holes I know that nothing can repair.

The moment breaks as I am asked, where on this I stand
I burst and flood; they watch as drowning, I died
for if to save our sinking ship, I can't retreat to land
then I'll wait here until I'm told to come inside.

But I'd misjudged the shouldered weight, and buckled at me knees
I turn to see no one run in my defense
Unsure the cure will come in time to free us our disease
I walk away from suffering your convenience.

The allegation I believe did not require consideration
It was a gross exaggeration out of desperation
This fabrication, and every sick insinuation,
A complication of a self explanation
Of your deprivation and justification
For your manipulation to suit your temptation,
infatuation with your impersonation
Contamination
Indignation within your contamination,
An accusation of your relation became your revelation,
It was not your reputation anymore under investigation
Starving for salvation, you fed each sick implication
As if each misrepresentation in vindication were a donation
To trade your damnation for his incarceration
As if creation of a demonstration

Desperation for an explanation
For your infatuation with temptation
Deprivation justification was indignation,
Accusation of impersonation -
Realization of manipulation
Salvation from damnation
Clarification of contamination
Allegation as donation
The Incarceration cancellation
The only explanation

A plot we fought in every room
Distraught devouring the bloom
Forgot the seed inside the womb
We ought to make this house a tomb

She cried In the sun as we sat on the
concrete lip of a family plot.
told me her regrets of returning God's gift.
Life would be so different.
I can never get it back, I'm so ungrateful.

The world underlies.

And we are sensitive people.

I couldn't keep myself when I awoke from throttling the route
As I choke myself on all the words that sound like some cop out

Either way it is wasting.
Claim your right
  to keep copy from pasting,
thereby laden these words beneath stone
where they lie as they rot, still unknown

Or to say
  what to speak is sweet tasting,
each frame recite
              liberties; terms replaced-
                                           -til the thing
doesn't resonate whatsoever, like it had, let alone
retain echoes of intention from initial undertone.

Incubation of thought from at best a guess of hue...
Distraught by more; eventually confessed
and we implore
what is repressed must we explore,
attest the vast extent this mess was misconstrued.

              Til to not adore much, lest
we curse what bless us as we grew.

I am not a genius, nor am I mad
I am just very, very sad.

i stand here, still.
my will is low.

in my hand the pill i
know can **** me,
i keep taking it until i
stop, with nowhere
else to go.

and so i stand here still
beneath the willow.

We are not born equal,
                               but alive.
The brave,
    and then the meek,
imagined strong
   actually weak
They who choose
    to seek will surely thrive.
but to say, no
        i must refuse,
        means to survive.

I have a friend who means everything to me
Each day I pretend to be the person that I wish that I could be
Every hour I spend further descending. I know I'll never get free.
Because i depend on you depending on the parts I let you see.

I have a friend who means everything to me.
Who fills the spaces that are empty.
Feeds into that for which I'm hungry.

I am lonely.

So is he.

I love you dearly.

You don't know me.

When my legs
fail the body I am tired of
Having a mind
                 Again silk wisps of a still scene of dream
                         I cannot yet bat the trajectory before I pause, where and when was that?

Where and when am I



Let me die

We wanted to become better people
So we became better criminals.

Following fall I can hardly recall
Crawling back out the black when I fell off the ball
And I find myself backed up against the same wall
I can't fess up to kissing, bleeding I still stall
In the mess scared and ******* just feeding -
Feeble guesses dare gone missing, misleading
Beating lessens the heart i need is fleeting
browned each page before starting to study
Down the echoing hall like a ribcage is ******
Knees that need ground gashed by scattered glass
Found a gnashing still thrashing unbearable sound
Firmly lashing your crashing mind terrible bound
Shattered, pass
Classless unflattered
what's the matter
what's it matter
what's the matter
what's it matter

Eyes wide
The end collide
Can't hide
And then I died

Down I've worn the tread.
I was born already dead.

The mockingbird of your dreams
vanished as it grew quiet.
So carry forth, to rocking back-
Words urging flock to riot

I wake up
to love you

I sit with my father, who is hanging on to frustration at a ******* on the pass.
my mother is across from me, baiting conversation.
The art museum today has bare walls, and their halls only display what my father calls, the place your mind is left where at yourself is all you find to stare, bet that *******-whole reeks to bare

*******.



I wish I could get a space, have it set up with a bed, tons of blankets, tons of lights, tons of curtains, and random pieces of wood. And one side of the wood is painted in a grey-purple, and I have indigo chalk. And it's a living exhibition of narcolepsy. And i just rearrange constantly, and write poems on the undersides of the wood, which I use to fashion ever-changing furniture.

Everybody acts to empower individuality
to flourish standing certain til succumbing to mortality
though this agenda seems to cease concerning edged reality
and those we carried to the ledge, toss across their totality

I don't know how to get along in a world
where my shared experiences are inhibited.


I sailed across the sea to see if it would be worth the journey
didn't account for the return trip, had bet would be a gurney
and the ocean or salt corroded that which upon I sailed
and i never made it anywhere. Stupidity prevailed.

Barreling double loaded to disaster
to reach the same conclusion, only faster

Been dimming.

Swimming in the brimming I don't mean.

When ways of convenience and routine fall prey to entropy
communicative moralities convey what will convene
to birth an expectation.
from misinformed and ill-preperation
after crossing over seeking pastures green,
to find im swimming somewhere sneaking in between.

A gentle wood but harsh fire.

Gabriel descended
              and he called out to me
So I got out of my bed
              and swam to him across the sea

We met within the forest
              under cover of the shade
I asked why he had beckoned
              he said, Because you obeyed

As we walked, he asked
              what forever haunts my soul:
If you had a preference,
              would you cause or close the hole?

The first to arrive at the other side
              and leave the ones you love behind,
Or live to lose them, one by one,
              the last one to be left alive?

I could not respond, and so I walked
              away and left him there.
I came when called, and my reward:
              a cross I’m too weak to bear.

Returning home as dawn arrived
              met by the sleepy faces
My beloved ones, unbeknownst
              to such lonely and dark places.

I’ve run away, and on the lam
              a nomad known by none;
Those I have left I pray forget
              the madness that Gabriel spun.

Night brings chill, and he returns
              and I, weary, can’t hide
Kneeling beside, he says to me
              You can’t outrun the tide

I’d hoped to circumvent the loss
              in death that he’d revealed;
For if alone, I could not lose
              or be lost when fate wield

The ones I’d loved were left without
              me,  I too lost them all
For fear of death had drowned my hope
              the day the angel called

How and who decides
what
of these concepts to set
aside and which
        if any
Can be kept as set B-side
are manic.

We are kept here set here
beside our mania.
Inept except
We are exceptional at
our accepting our own
Any hour expecting
A guest is alone
A guess is unknown
As the guest refuses to show face or take name
Every one is the same,
And no one can be traced
So they claim that the taste
Left behind if the waste
In the wake of
Of the infamous singlular
Luciferous shadow...
Like as of the malicious
Behavior in which the
New users partake
Which is enough to shake
Many a good man foregone the
Veil of anonymity
Revealing the reason at the base
Of why so many of us fail
This game, we're frail
It's cold
To survive we lie,
And sail
And hold
Onto this thin veneer hoping
The world wI'll buy how we try to
appear
...I propose we are all driven by an inability to cope with our fear.

How and who decides
what
of these concepts to set
aside and which
        if any
Can be kept as set B-side
are manic.

Through Z we see that
everything is semantic.

It appears as though shadows are not of concern,
To they who shed light upon every return.

I am certain the sun cannot fathom night falling,
And really, why would he care?
For the curtain that's calling long after you're done,
To be gone, I don't believe is unfair.

It appears as though shadows are not of concern,
To they who shed light upon every return.

YOU WILL NOT REGRET MOVING FORWARD

when the thick fog creeping on your back seeps past
consuming sickness that was keeping track, gets lost at last
but this relief is leaping into grief, it's getting deep
and getting black, it's coming fast,
the clouds just weep themselves to sleep
since they can't brace for this attack

i may be awake
i may be asleep
i cannot remember
falling either way this deep

I am a dream.

I am experienced only as I occur
Even then the clarity at best is a stuttering blur.
The strands felt by fingertips lips kiss goodbye
can't repeat or be shared or reasoned much of why.
I am a nightmare.

Do you think I've got wisdom?

I have been thinking, and talking to God, and I realized something. I am one of God's children, I am one of God's children!
Are you one of God's children?

They are so angry, so angry all of the time, so angry at the world. At everybody else. Something that they don't realize, that I realize, is that they are angry at themselves. They are angry because they are confused, and their minds don't work like they used to. They are angry because they are afraid, because they can't take care of things like they used to.

I see that.

Sometimes I get angry because this is called assisted living, but I can't get any assistance around here. I've got nothing. I can't get no assistance.

I know this, this is Perry Como.
Merry Christmas.

-  Bob

evaluate the symphony
be critical; direct
judge yourself from your actions
may justice be to reflect

the sentence ends the day you die
until then, run on, mourn
incoherence that depends on why you say why  
you left, right before you felt reborn.

in a way all is done
no body always
lost on the run.
in a way all is done
there is everything

You learn something new every day
so long as you don't let your ego light the way