Sharp tongues do damage quicker than blade could manage.
Deeply scaring the mind, which in turn takes time.
Step light little princess,
Heading advice and walking with care
So as to not attract unwanted stares,
Speak when spoken to
and give pause
to process a slogan.
Think aloud only if you are alone,
inking pride deep inside.
Pretty papers leave trails that can be followed,
leaving you to weave lies that can’t be swallowed.

remember
when you were little
and you thought silly things
like hawaii was the only island in the world....
I miss that.
not the ignorance
but the mind blowing
when you learned
there were more islands.

I wonder...
will there always be more islands?

Sitting as strangers do,
squishing closer to one’s self,
refusing contact.

oh the world.

It will drill you
leaving little time for emotional distilment
caring nothing for a futures fulfillment

next

more than once you will seek
something already sought
there at the edge of your thought

next

out, clinging to a limb
where others slowly join you
time like the wind, blew

next.

You break and fall
because you lacked the courage
to leap and fly

It was supposed to be the start of the day.
When he had a heart, as fate would have it.
Standing next to his hero; eyes open and fixed,
distinctive of someone who’s dying.
He checked for a pulse
and found none.
A moment later they arrived,
shocked his heart back into action
and he was taken
to determine what happened and why.

I am a contradiction to the original belief of man.
Refusing to reproduce is an option denied.
Although i would,
refuse that is.
My love,
meaning,
potential,
dependent on recognition that is also denied.
So,
let me write my story with the only arm they cringe to see,
*******.
Freedom openly oppressing the minorities of history.

Listening with new views
reminds there is more to those
living titled shrew.

I thought I knew what I was,
what I wanted,
who I’d be.

But time reminded me
of my mortality.

Accidents sculpted.
Limbs punctured.
Secrets spilled.

My foundation slipped out.
The mess was astounding.

Broken.
Bruised.
Battered.

Onlookers scoffed.
Kin took perimeter,
shielding me within.

It was there  
I remembered
who I’d been.

We must persist that we are objects of imperfection,
sculpted by a Creator's hands,
and in the eyes of our maker,
we are never done.

Contributing on to the end,
a memory of our being,
to be fixed in the minds of our counterparts.

We will never know the truth behind their love.

To divulge such a secret would in time turn it false.

It is not that we are not good,
not kind,
not sincere,
nor well-meaning.

But without the secret,
there would be no propelling of oneself.

And if the Creator blessed all of us, with a conscience of steel;
we would always be better tomorrow than we are today.

Resolve defined: firm determination to do something.

To know resolve is to say;
I will always be better tomorrow regardless of what I am today.

Rest well my friend. It’s not the end,
and until then, we’ll just pretend.

That you and I will someday find,
our winding way backwards in time.

The other side, it’s kinda vague.
It kinda makes,me wanna wake.

From this dream I can’t have dreamt
because you see, I’m spent.  

Memories I have kept
have slowly crept
and caused the tears
that I had wept
to leave behind
their slack confines
and cloud the days just like my mind.

I fill our places with new faces
searching for small traces.

Like bits of you inside of them.
Rest well my friend. It’s not the end.

I seem to find myself entwined
and mesmerized by those

whose lives you've helped align.
It seems my love you still live on.

As seasons change, I rearrange
the thoughts I used to entertain.

They, like I have grown from pain.
Get lost with me and let us hide

amid the memories of my mind.
The other side shall call me too.

Starting with the morning dew
and through the setting sun,

someday my time here too,
will cease and be done.

Teach me to make beautiful.
No beauty can I find.
Search me whole.
Tell only what thoughts appear to be mine.
First comings need an exit of least disgrace.
No one wants to be kept waiting.
For then their time might never come.
Trimmed antiques in dusty lace.

Explosions rocketed themselves skyward.
They polka doted the worlds tapestry; purposeful stains.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet.
To the west the sky was warm.
And skeletons could be seen floating,
long after the sparkle and the boom had dissipated.
Like dandelions gone to seed.
The sky celebrates with us

Always wanting more,
I find myself needing
To be inexhaustible
With exhaustion comes death
Sleep will search on
I am no where to be found
Counterpart making sure of that
I lie here wanting –
Nothing more than to coexist

Surely one didn’t see the future clearly.
The sight was taken from,
kept hidden,
cleaned.
Neatly crisp the edges are.
The borrowers illusion transforms your present hallucination.

Looking over the edge of a cliff
is comparable to fat fingers threading a needle.
The voice in my head mocks my fears.
Licking black berries in the fall with my mother
reminds me that all that glitters isn’t gold.
I look to the clouds and jump,
whirring the whole way down.
My audience cries shake it off.
I’m dripping wet.
Tic tac?
No.
Towel.

Could heavens tears fall as beautifully?
                       Could clouds form with more haste?
                                             Could what I look upon steal more than my heart?

                                                         ­                                                                 ­ Mind,
                                                                ­                                                           body -
                                                               ­                                               the soul itself.

                                                        ­         So that you may feel anything, but this.


My – kind stranger whose words have inspired
the weakest of grins.
I refuse your offer.
Leave me to my moods.
For as the sea they change
and I care not to drown another.

Let me sit and feel
all that this moment has to offer
for it to shall pass.

Children in lust.
Riding rhythms with their stilt limbs
throwing their bodies
in a manner belonging to the young.

Youth clouds the mind
it rains out its brilliance
in the form of something
opposed from both ends.

They attach blinders to their offspring
narrowing the vision.
They pluck dreams
like nourishment from a tree.

Composted into “usefulness”
the children remain,
stubbornly concealed within
hiding  in shadows.

Known for leading charges in to debauchery.
Fearsomely handsome burning blue eyes that long outlived his passing.
“Didn’t leave life unlived, did he?”

Reformed, unrepentant; grown wraithlike, diminished.
“If you give up, don’t moan about it; go back.”
The scholar who led a rebellion against performance.

The Lion in Winter.
The Ruling Class.
My Favorite Year.

Born August- the son of Constance, he grew up.
He gave up drinking- he did not give up smoking.
Cigarettes in an ebony holder, green socks, overcoats and trailing scarfs.

Good parts few and far between.
Waiting…you could wait forever.
Together with fine people, good companions with whom I've shared my belief.

My belief,
that one should decide for oneself,
when it is time to end ones stay.
I bid a dry eyed grateful farewell.

Audiences, critics, curiosity seekers
“My Favorite Year”
unlikely to win awards,
he clutched his statuette.

none want to break
caring to show weakness
being an undesirable trait
how to cope without losing
is like waiting out a drought
with peanut butter
avoid scattering your pieces
by alleviating pressure
strengthen the foundation
then shoot sure

The room paused
Inhaling before a sneeze
Undo the manipulation
The world has little use for another
Inattentive
Bias
Ill-informed
Over opinionated
Individual
Watch well after they remove your plank
For a sight to behold is on the horizon
Unclog ears waxed over with idleness
Wash any obstacle so it may shine
Stand
High
Speak
Slowly
Deliberately choose
Know when enough has been reached
Losses will be totaled when the world has no comment
Tongues held out of respect and not practice.
Science will paint a peaceful picture of another collective that refused to coexist
Somebody knows
Somebody always knows
It’s a matter of asking the right questions

You do not die
The absence of life is death,
as the absence of light is dark.
Belief deemed- burning can only be seen
in relation to that which would smother.
Pressing belief to emerge befuddled,
so shall we persist in futile struggle?
Use ability, a gift that has blessed,
enhancements, emerge into unique success.
Leading on to evolve, until age-
leaves its contenders trapped; a skin cage.
You do not die. That is fear believing lies.
In an attempt to avoid distrust,
we will continue, on, out and up.

I don’t want to be in love again.
I don’t want to rekindle what I lost.
I don’t want to feel that vulnerable again- ever.

I am quite comfortable in the fort I've made;
strong brick walls and a strong brick roof
and very few windows with very thick glass.

When it rains I am dry.
When it is cold I am warm inside and
when it is hot, I have a sweet cool shade.

Only ever do I miss the wind,
the way it’d comb my hair,
the way it’d help me breathe.

The way it’d hold me until I fell asleep.
How it would carry flowers and lay them at my feet.
It’s sinful cunning and charming smile.

The wind was my friend, until it finally blew me away.
Do I miss anything? Yes.
Most days I think I miss the wind, but only the wind.

oh little tree you are my favorite
skinny in the most unwanting way
one season? two? to know for certain
would be the end of you,
my inanimate love

feelings you cannot have
joys you will never feel
but nourishment and growth
breathe life into you
like the wind through your lost leaves

do not change please
never before have i seen leaves such as yours
i walk by twice a day sometimes six
always in even numbers,
for one can only go so long as one comes back.

you will outlive us all

Imposing structure,
inanimate and cold,
edges crisped with set tools.
Do you want to be here?
Or do you simply do as you’re told?

The pretty girl gets what the pretty girl wants
and the ugly chick goes where the lonely people go
and together they wait for the day
when the sun goes down and stays away
and we all
look
the
same...shadows.

They hosted a candlelight walk,
for those willing to say farewell.
The cold was just plain cold, to some unfeeling.

Fires warmed a pair of twin sisters.
The girls laughed and ran on ahead.

Parked and waiting, I hid in my car.
I crouched low and silently shivered.
No one saw me.

You can hide from people.
They are easy to see and quick to dodge.
They are clumsy,
dragging their feet loudly
and complaining.

But people change.

And when they change,
they lose their shape.

They’re not saggy or gray,
they’re not anything,
but they must be something.

We are all something.
Something we don’t understand.

When people change,
they are much harder to hide from.
I couldn't hide and I knew she knew I was trying.

I got out of my car,
and ran to catch the twins that were already gone.

Vigilante due to the status of their past,
wanting-desiring-no needing,
to climb rungs so that status may protect them.
Calling vulnerability to themselves
so that others may simply live.
What a strange unwanted post.

Find me the conditions conducive to life,
and I will be unable to find any fulfilled.
It is in our nature always
to want, mass, more, supplementary.
Without quench will be need.
Possibly more?
Will one brave; lonely and just, be enough?
Life only prolonging a barmy parody
until confronted with one of seven?
Found guilty on all accounts,
failing even, to screen their future.

The laugh can’t ask the world.
Outstretched for too long.
Swimming to you through raindrops,
early in the morning.
You will find people are beautiful.
Where ever you are,
carry me to you.
Its easy.
Then walk us home.

Perhaps
if
life
change
came
with
a
similar
jingle
such
as
coin
change,
perhaps
then
we
wouldn’t
oppose
it
with
such
fierce
opposition.

elders scoff while the young do worse
leaving the leaders cause to curse
looking for signs in a wrong place
seeking familiarity in a stranger's face
hope lost once
results in
hope lost twice
turning squares
rounding off corners
recreating the circle

What should we question if not ourselves?  
The coming of days?
The renewal of thirst?
No. Such things are certain.
Send your thoughts elsewhere
Let them keep company among
the troubles of tomorrow.
Inclined to such foolish lives,
we breath for our fashions.
I beg you to remind me of a time,
when I might have lived for more.

on my back in a pack are my glasses for seeing
in my hands like a sleeping child, my laptop
shoes without traction
I slip
three seconds to swing
onto my back?
or accept falling on my face?
natural selection no longer exists
therefore I choose the back
I can exist for days with visions of haze
however without my laptop
I feel I would be lost.

Whoever gave power and speed to such unfeeling objects should be cursed;
to live in terror, to be stripped of anything that might hide them from those in pursuit.
Leave now and seek refuge in the dark places of this world.
Stay until you are one with the blacks and grays.
Stay until the bright sight of sun causes you pain and your reflection, unfamiliar.  
You have misused our trust. Mistaking patience and silence, for stupidity, and ignorance.
You can take no more; I have nothing left to give.
You will take no more, we will not let you.
Enough, your gifts are useless. You, begging, it will go unheard.
Beseeching the deaf with speech brings only annoyance.
It is done.
We give you our pity, our silence, and exude no energy.
You are not now, and time revealed, ever were, more than a child.

Repeating my idols selected words
for ears of the youth who haven’t heard.
Big minds have seldom thought
that worth thinking of.
Imagine instead what of the rest?
If only they could see their best.
Have a place to believe,
the world unraveling, to all it could be.

Upon my shoulder rests a bee
A creature feared attentively
They are a cautious group to buzz
In gardened fields of dandelion fuzz

Teaching others to fall,
so that their bodies
can be steps to ascension.
That is a person
I do not care to be.
Teachings of history,
prove success to one quality -greed.

Success defined as the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.

Instant gratification means a great deal,
when the other option is death.
Definition proving-
First we must change our definition,
second we must change ourselves,
then- changing the world will come.
East as American snow in July.

Old man sitting class front
Plucks his twanging banjo
Singing songs about rain
Songs about this kind of day

Imagine the tough skin
Hugging his picking thumb while he strums
The music rewinds and ages
Giving rhythm to his pulls and nods

Lines escaping from a dark wrinkled cave
Hidden behind whites and grays
Growing south like so many do
Just an old man sharing his love with you

Keeping it all the same
Hum drum going nowhere
Questioning progress
Did I go anywhere today?

Or have I just returned?

You want to make me smile?
shrug off your clothes, stay awhile.
You see,
its only you and me
locked up inside our wild minds
running
free.
Catch me off guard,
i dare you.
Lead me
to compare you
to my wildest dreams.
Let them mean something again.

Never will I do all that life wants of me.
My children – keeping up their own bargains.
Never will they know of mine.
I am irreplaceable.

Prices paid sum up regrets, lessons, changes, ugly things.
Little souls carry vengeance.
Old minds treasure memories.
Never will I do all that life wants of me.

Sisters are comparison,
trying to add…
anything.
Expecting moot stature
in vestiges of past days.
On Earth- be curious.
False medicine-
the difference between honesty and belief.
A better person is waiting
in the reflection of yourself
through those who know you.

Valid lines; knowing their potential for inspiration
replace a growing lack of education,
befuddled into breeding violence.
The beginning sings and the ignorant march on.

Elicit passion from little thought,
entertaining the toils our country has brought
before the world to see.
Following blindly, the ignorant march on.

Ye of little faith let me condemn you,
for I sit upon a throne of a hundred shoes.
Miles and miles I have walked - with blisters to prove
That hand in hand, the ignorant march on.

Obsessed with the pursuit of pain we entertain,
ridiculous ideas lacking any notion to gain
anything but wasted time.
And at the end of the day the ignorant march on.

Out of practice and lacking poise,
fumbling blindly through our boisterous ways,
we seek change without commitment,
leading others to join, the ignorant as they march on.

We changed the date the calendars marked.
All of them in bold font.

Two weeks early and a day.
Some came with babies and swollen tummies.
The men all had shaved.

We ate, exchanged, and went our separate ways.
The day left on the calendar remained the same.
That day left open.

Nothing would be open,
except
maybe
Chinese.

I watch you,
in my open hand,
touched are your eyes.
First one,
then the other.
Like someone,
feeling her way,
with no way of knowing;
like me.

Perhaps for you there is no flight,
startled, you walk away.
Sometimes, I cannot bear the world,
but we are different,
you a humble soul.
Forgive me,
I, monster that I am,
bow down before you,
finally,
speechless.

I watch the sun set.
It is as alone and secluded as I.
Think us the only two?
How many others watch from their own secret corners?
When it leaves,
I wish it would take me too.
Never would I feel cold again.

Take my hand and let’s walk for awhile
We’ll take a mile down the old ravine trail

Just you and me, hands clasped tightly
I will share all my stories and listen to yours eagerly

Let’s do it soon. Don’t stay away
Because every day things happen that are worthy to say

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail

The reasons are stupid they make me angry
It is about feeling just how far you want to go

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail

Just you and me, with our limbs clasped tightly
I will share all my stories and listen to yours eagerly

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail.

Coy – if anything worth being;
could it be any sweet shorter of a word.
To collect all precious sounds and
sing them to the air.
Hoping few would reach you
where you sit.
Pretty things like yourself
deserve more than regretful confirmation
of dreaded truth.
Could not I will the world
to come true unto you… in a blink.
But quiet echoes loudly.
In the dark

Conclusions.

Many words will I write.
Few will be noted as “worthy”.
Yet shall I stop?
No.
All words noted will rarely be the same.
So I will write all words that lead my fingers to twitch and my heart to soar.

Altruistic mannerisms,
developed from skewed senses
outlined by a greater power,
gives me anger, and greed first.

So that I might know
that I arrived on my own.

Base it on my ability
to develop self
and not my ability to obtain as I have been directed.

I'm growing up; not growing stronger.
In between the time when 3 men loved me I forgot how to love myself.        
I feel isolated, alone.
I am dependent on a boy who does not see me.
I signed a lease, so I stay.

But my soul...it wanders.
It wakes each morning and stretches its limbs to the ceiling and walls.
It pushes on the windows and bangs on my door.
Quickly I reel it in.
Before the neighbors hears its screams or see the chains that hold it back.
I bury it into me.
I make it lay straight, flat and neat under my skin.
But it battles me.
From my eyes I can see it taunt me in the mirror. 
It weaves my hair into knots.
It whispers pretty things to pull my gaze upward.
But I look down. I watch my feet.
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                     
I am tired.
We are tired, this has to end.
Maybe tomorrow I'll let my soul win.
Maybe tomorrow we will both take flight and instead of whispering we will sing.
I will look at the sky.
I will loose myself in the stars and I fly with the birds.
I will skip on clouds and pluck trees like flowers.