Her sweet scent sticks in my nostrils
from when we were last met,
remembrance of her lips on mine
inspire song divine.
Though I gaze upon her face in photographs,
angelic beauty replicates not.
Shivers she sends me
over the phone.
Oh, I marvel that we
may speak from such distance,
yet I crave her warm embrace,
her breath in my ear,
whispering gently, it’s ok,
and forever will be.
I long to run my fingers
through her silky black hair,
caressingly *******
her mind and its motives,
the clockwork behind
those deep brown eyes,
two chocolatey oceans of no return.
To feel her lie against me
brings a state: pure ecstasy,
no chemical exists
that can make one feel
as they do when abreast
with a lover. Desire
fills me to be with her
but for now I must settle
to view my tulip
from afar.

coffee in the night wakes me for the evening,
sipping as I listen to cool tunes
from the lady strummer sooth,
oh the taste of a nice fresh brew,
potent and dark, the caffeine streams
through blood to the brain,
nice quick buzzbuzzbee
in my head.
reprieve from the shop to the abode no one knows,
down the road curved heavy I strode
and sank deep into muses sweet song,
echo ear to ear soul soothsayer,
calm coffee nerves,
trade lines of rhyme
in a compact black
notebook of wonders belonging
none other to d-bake,
spirit of the sun, wandering peace beast
with worthy words and steady grooves.
come midnight go and its time to depart.
come home to dark demons
seeping 'round corridors and corners,
peeking for a sight of frightened prey
to pounce on invisibly,
startled through and through,
spooks steering to insanity, must
seek shelter ‘**** covers with sleepytime tea.
long discussions over late telephone,
with lady of dreams come true,
of one consciousness such that no puzzle piece
stands apart and one love
binds the confines of it all ,
mind shatteringly simple yet
most don’t seem to see
the beauty of all infinitely one.

Whats this world coming to
Paranoia all around
Creeping up but slipping down
The melodrama hurts me
Is this the way it should be
I question our existence
Illusory immaterial junk
Inching through the samsara
Satori says I'm not really here
Senseless matter sitting idly
In a tiny corner of dharma
Overwhelmed unimaginably by
It all.

The gilded disc flies smoothly through the air.
Glinting in the sun, it catches a gust
Of wind, rising through hands and clouds of dust.
On the run, time for a dive, does he dare?
Defender follows, two bodies ensnared
Topple through the air, and with one last ******,
His fingertips meet the disc. He rolls just
Over the line, and through the air cheers tear.

The crowd storms the field in jolted frenzy
As the defenders hang their heads in shame.
His teamates lift the brave frisbee hero
Like a king who slaughtered the enemy.
Those that witnessed this great chamionship game
Saw the best display of athletic show.

Antsy aardvarks all
accept ants accordingly
as an addiction

Bamboo bayonets
bought by barbaric, beastly
barons bite beatniks

Cloistered cobblers can
color candy-cane conches
concealing crooners

Daffodils doodle
daydreams down, debauchery
demons deafening

Every eon each
electric elephant eats
eleven elk eggs

For fun fantasies
file films filosophic'ly
filling filaments

Go get greens
Get grass grayer gal
goonie ghoul

Hello high hammock
how hooligans heave haddocks
heathenly hecklers

Igloos ixist in
icy islands interning
internationally

Jello jam jizzy
Jacks jostling jewels juney
jump jump joop jail

I learned an important lesson
during a street hockey match.
Don't stand in front of slap shots.

Some runt boasted
of how powerful he could smack the ball,
and I howled with laughter, a hyena,
standing my ground,
confident as a peacock,
feet away from his stick.
I was a hockey god none could conquer,
and he, a puck peasant
whom I could smite with a single shot.

But then he slapped
The ball, Crack!
the start of a track meet.
From there my memory is as shaky
as my knees when the ball
crashed into my eye.
They say I wailed and crumpled
to the ground, clutching
away, feeling the stinging
tears come.
I tried to fight them,
but like the eternal rains
endured by Noah, down
they poured. I slunk home, head-hung
In shamed defeat.

I ran to the bathroom
to inspect my battle wounds,
and there in the mirror,
dark and purple as a stormy sky
was my first
Shiner.

A pack of hyenas, we howl in a frenzy.
Set off by naught,
A twitter or flick and all is lost
To laughter in the night,
Engulfing us all.
Sides aching, my body keeps quaking
Free as a warbler, Screeching and Heaving
As the fire dies, I open my eyes
In a tent, we lay sprawled
Worship almighty Party Mix
Now ravenous lions, or kindergarten children
We claw and shove and dig into the loot
Faces full, stomachs pounding, eyes heavy,
Fingers sticky with snacky crumbs,
A sugary tantalizing coating.
Hounds we are, gluttonous fiends
Living for twenty dollars of sweetly goods
Bought from an otter.
All is forgotten as we sit down to feast
"Spare the jerky, we'll need it later!"
"You devil, its all gone!"
Oh well, no worries of food now
Sufficiently satiated we snuggle into sleeping sacks
Shadows play on the walls
Dancing as jubilantly as shadows may to the music we play
****** stories, crude jokes now met with sheepish sniggers
A fifth giggle is heard from our party of four
Unseen, yet someone is there
A screaming spirit, a lost loner,
A wily wizard, a carnivorous ******,
A balefully babbling banshee,
A sambaing Spanish sandman,
A dopaminergic, diamond-eyed dragon?!
Dare we ask what he be
As his wisdom calmed our carousing
We journeyed through eternity
Visions of it all so overwhelming
Our minds explode
Great kaleidoscopal mortars on a warm eve in july
Visions of dank alleyways, bums and drums
Pastoral sights with floral delights
Emaciated emigrants, there faces so slum
Whimsical unicorns cavort through clouds
Young boys in green turned pincushions by hot flashing iron
Jovial faces devour whole hams by candlelight
Hopeless faces cry and starve by moonlight
Weary we are as the rooster caw-caws for dawn
Wet with dew and naked we slip out
Crazed and dazed we walk in a haze
To witness diurnal beginnings
Pink tinges and orange singes
Streaming above the horize
Time now to sleep
In the crystalline shimmering meadow
Short morning naps
To ease madness since midnight
Dreams foggily drift in and out
Sun's rays fry the flesh
As we awaken to sickening reality
Had it all been psychedlic delusions
Surely it'd just been us four

When one comes to a stream,
the mid life crisis in the board game,
walk across the stones
your instinct and intellect inspire
'cuz even if you soak your shoes or toes,
your character triumphs.
Keep at whatever you enjoy
no matter how small or slippery the stone.
You'll get across mate,
and do it with your best buds.

The music's best on the dark
side of town, I heard. It seemed miles
from home, after waiting in a long traffic jam
But the lights finally changed
from glamorous shining to dull neon, covered in smoke
drifting up from drifters outside the Black Cat.

By the fluorescent green sign, a cat
was painted, its fur dark
as the alley I stood in, engulfed in smoke.
The cat perched atop Miles
Davis's trumpet. Bums hassled me for change
and a few drummed on buckets, jamming

with a harmonica player, synched as jam
and peanut butter. I stepped into the Black Cat,
and from the facade saw no change.
The lights turned low, the club dark
as the alley outside. A Miles
record hovered through the smoke.

The people chattered like bees, smoking,
waiting for the players to jam.
At last, the bass player laid down a line miles
long, the drummer chinked in, and the cats
began to groove. They chilled my bones with dark
melodies, pounding through spooky chord changes.

Soon sunbeams shone through the storm, they changed
to an upbeat swing tune. The horn smoked,
hitting riffs unheard, astounding the dark
faces gazing on in awe. They jammed
endless as the ocean. The cats
started to play a popular Miles

song.  The crowd hollered in Miles'
memory as the horn steered through the changes
with the skill of the legend of the Black Cat.
The band, nearly invisible through the haze of smoke
thick in the air, strawberry jam,
soon faded to dark.

Miles Davis’s ghost flowed through the smoke,
awakened by the chord changes, grooving to the jam.
The hippest cat alive or dead, now he plays in the dark.

They stared down that fruit
ravenously as junkies
seeking their next fix.
Days they spent
cleverly concealed
high in the banyan boughs
by the jungle home.
Monkey spies peered longingly,
slavering over the scrumptious cornucopia
of fruity delight,
so close.
They watched the white man
devour whole pigs three times
daily. When he ate
he feasted.

This gluttonous absurdity shall last no longer,
claimed the monkey chieftain.
Clang clang, rang the war bells,
and primate warriors gathered,
plotting a master plan,
the "Fruit Bowl Coup."
Gangsters conniving their next hit,
the monkeys schemed day and night.
The fruit shall be ours at last!

The white man's snores rumbled
after lunch. He dazed
in a satiated stupor.
With vine ropes and a leafy gag,
the monkeys stormed in.
A score tied him down,
muffled his pitiful squeaks.
The rest raided,
took siege over the kitchen,
plundering pirates.
They filled their cheeks
and hands with fruit,
then brought their *****
back to the tribe.
They feasted for days
and the white man cried.

As a little boy he wandered,
explored the forest
of life. One small, smooth
and jagged piece seeking out
those around in hope
that they’d one day
latch together, make a whole.
Trillions, gajillions, infinitillions
of parts, each unique, each
the same in a relative way.
Faces appeared and stayed,
others faded away. Ideas
blossomed gently, exploding
to states of mind, concrete views
or dust scattered with the wind.
Slowly he grew.

Some fear attachment,
but this boy lived for love.
Love for souls, life, ecstasy,
youth, holding hands, dancing,
grooves and groves of wonderment.
Some years went and others didn’t
but this boy(‘s puzzle plot)
had expanded to an extent
unbeknownst to him. Smoke
and mirrors mystify and cloud
the lucid mind.
Sometimes the crystalline clarity
never returns and the pieces fall,
a part of nothing
but ignorantly serene delusions.

This boy got lucky, though.
Some light, some gustling breeze
scattered the foggy reflections,
debilitating for so long.
The natural allure of a young lady
can lift a man from any sinkhole,
be it momentarily or neverending…
He saw those bright brown eyes
shining one day. A sublimely
beautiful face no words justify.
In he walked from the rain
and called out, hey!
So it began, the pieces reappeared.
For now, the others didn’t matter.
Two minute beings in a sea
of colored cardboard fragments,
secure. This girl, she showed him
the big picture, or lack thereof.
She pushed him to create for himself,
for her, them, noone, everything.
So they dreamed.

Caught an ol' friend smokin' down Derby Drive
Two lost buddies shootin' **** and feelin' high
These cats I was with though, sho din't jive
So I said, Later fellas, think I'll call it a night
Went a'whistlin down the sidewalk all proper and trim
These houses lookin' at me, got me feelin' dim
So I say to myself, Son, whatcha gonna do?
You're gonna groove it all night until the mornin' dew
So I flip my flops off and toss 'em in the road
When the weather's hot, barefoot is the only code
I've got Summertime feelings on my mind
And a love in my heart that I like to call kind
But if you come at me on a one way street
I ain't turnin' around til' your *** is beat
Cuz ain't no one in this world gonna mess wit' me
I'm a child of the flower and a man of the tree
I'll chop down some wood out in the forest green
And build you bird houses you ain't ever seen
I like to fly in the sky, and **** on your head
Only if you ain't listenin' to what I said
If you're a good student in my class you get a gold star
But if you mess up too much you won't be goin' far
So read your books, do your work, pass this course
If you don't, it's ok cuz things could be quite worse
Just take a lesson from the teacher once a day
Then before you know, the black and white turn to grey
You start seeing colors you ain't never knew
Hearing sounds and voices speaking loud and true
But where did we get off from this walk in the road
I'm searchin' and a'searchin' for my humble abode
There's a cornfield on the left, I sho' ain't goin' in
Cuz' the aliens from Signs are gonna be my Fin
I'd rather walk by and just stare at the sky
As Jimi says 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy
If you're Gay, then stand up, you a got a brotha in me
Just don't be gettin' feely at afternoon tea
Unless of course we're hangin' out with the Queen
I'd like to show her crazy, Americans WE
Sillysilly Brits with their chips and fish
Prince Charming William more like Lil' *****
I sho' like their countryside and cities, though
And getting all kinds of coins and colored dough
I really ain't got nothin' against those guys
Except for when the King is telling all his lies
Monty Python's Flying Circus, what a trip
Reminds me of some mushies with insanity dip
Whoever knows what the hell they're talking about
But in reality, do you know in from out?

There is a love no phrase defines
Eight letters mean nothing
but what you take from them.
And some take none.
So I'll take a few more letters
cos' eight seems not enough,
to tell of a love that rests
high above the lust
of a high school romance.
This is a love where you dance
through the night
with your shirts off
to music that doesn't even play.
You sneak abouts here and there
and hit bowls against the grass
and glance on lakes at night
the ultimate paradox shining
in mankind. Belligerent fights
with brooms ensue to be ended
by boxes of cardboard pizza
or red pepper pita and hummus.
Your parents say, "those guys again..."
And you say, "Hey! you're talkin' bout' my friends here."
So you go.
You take rides endless it seems.
Take trips to places before unseen.
Talks of blabber and sensibility.
Snuggle seshes end in wrestling matches.
If you wake up and your jaw hurts,
you and Maxy probably got drunk again.
If your clothes smell a bit,
chance that Andy dropped by.
If your mind's been blown
Mack and Will laid with you
by the pond for hours.
If you feel a love stronger
in your soul, Dbake's nearby.
If you laugh your *** off for days,
Dusty probably told a joke
or pulled his pants down.
If you can't wrap you mind
around some fact or story,
Bankman must have sprouted
out some MIT engineering bull
you wish you could understand.
But who gives a hey when
you're out chilling with the bros,
brews or not, smokes or tokes or nokes,
there is always a brotha out to chill.
And to you, I say
NAMASTE

Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul,
Full focus eyes gaze cool on the fast lane,
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.
     Feet firm as a diver, perfect control,
     Tremors to send a normal man insane,
     Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul.

Surf the concrete wave, curve the Ocean Bowl.
Take a gyrating trip outside the main.
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.
     Careful for the cracks, they'll charge you a toll
     Scraped shins, knees, knobby elbows, pain don't stain.
     Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies the soul.

Mind focus Buddha, the trucks kiss the pole.
A good sesh, I'd consider that set slain.
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll
     I'll always cruise, its like a summer stroll
     With a lover, but I'm riding this train.
Rumblin' pavement roar 'lectrifies my soul,
Wind thrills chills through my hair as the wheels roll.

Uds. son muy tontos.
Les gusta cuando les doy los baños.
Les encantan mis padres porque por el desayuno,
Se lo doy cada día.
Les miro cuando juegan.
Louie, te gusta eschuchar
A música en mi hombro.
¿Lo escuchas, Louie?
Herbie Hancock y Louie Armstrong
Son tus favoritos.

Roaring, the fire flicks flames higher
than towers of oaken stead.
Smoke in our eyes the color of lead,
soars above the great fire.

Chanting ensues, clothes fly right by you
and the beastly hunt begins.
Hid behind masks, eyes show signs of sin
Enchanting, wooing you through.

As shrieks fill the air, you stop and stare
at the carnal carnival.
Flesh, sweat and tears, noone seems to care.
Bunches of mad animals.

Drums drone and pound your bones, rattle straight
to the core of your mortal
soul, eternal now but you have sold
sums of your life through this gate.

Dance is complete as embers smoulder
in the evening light, dark night
surrounding ***** is now your new plight.
Chance at trance makes not older.

I take a quick journey on up the road
Things I see make emotions explode
A lofty green meadow is what I seek
Congested construction is what I meet
Six lanes roads blast a once fluttering forest
Middle class homes rise as mountains at best
Standing in playplace of childhood
Woodland games of youth, ever so good
No, not anymore, now industrialized
They say we must be commercialized
No! I say, what will the critters do
They say who needs em, **** fools
How long will it be 'for luscious green's gone
Replaced by business, the new icon
No trees no bushes no grass
Just some corporate ***

I've been tottering on the edge for so long,
I don't remember what this feels like.
Each morning, fresh and new,
I am reborn, brethren of the Phoenix.
I'm scared to step, for fear of the Void.
It surrounds me, beckoning,
awaiting my next slip, a trip
down memory lane. But I've rid
myself of those messy times, I think?
Hard to say when you're two pills away
from going insane.
All I have is my mind and all my mind has
is Time.
Time to waste or time to spare?
I've wasted away for days and days,
so I can spare you sometime today.
I'd like to sit, do you have some tea?
Please, tell me, tell me, tell me.
Your life, your death, I want it all.
I'm making an album of eternity.
Why? you ask.
Well, I'd like to remember, see
my memory isn't very good.
So if you tell me everything,
I can write it down, then I'll never forget.
You could call me a historian, or herstorian.
But I'm not interested in the past anymore,
only the future.

Three nights lost
or was it four
Mysterious writing and foodstains
Show conditional instability

Hey there babe come on with me
We’ll run into the night, so much to see
Leave it all behind, see that’s the key
Grab my hand, sink your feet in the sand
Cuz’ now we’re livin free

Ain’t no worryin here on out
All’s left to do is dance and shout
The moments what its all about
Hear the music play steadily
Don’t look back at doubt

Run through fields of daisies
So what if we’re going crazy
Day and night its getting hazy
Mindbeams begin to spout
I see you babe, its all ok

Settle down for once in the west
They always tell me it’s the best
We’ll hunker into a cozy nest
Spend our days lazy
Think you know the rest

Time comes round to say goodbye
Never wanna, you got me too high
Sometimes tho, you gotta try
To beat the final test
But you an me babe
We ain’t never gonna die

We're living out
the greatest paradox
known to mankind
going all about it
from the wrong side
Obsessed with self-expression
we customize our face
and facebook
Look at any college student's
music preferences and see
the same ten things
in different orders
What is music
but the confluence of a billion
inspirations
starting from before we began
Go to any live show
and you'll experience
the penultimate
compilation of all music
known to man
Unless its a pop show
cuz I heard lots of those
are mere recordings
Any jazz gig
has slave songs
Coltrane
Dixieland
and Louis
all at once
even if the performers
and audience
don't realize it
Every musician can list
a long line of influences
All these inspirations
were affected by countless
other musicians before them
and it goes on and on
and on
All music is the result
of all music
that came before it
and will become and influence
all music after it
And this does not apply
only to music
but art, poetry, any writing
politics, economics,
language
Everything
We are the direct, indirect
product of all history
Look at the word history
His Story
Its our story
And not just mankind
We used to be primate rats
surrounded by towering
Dinos
Think about that
next time you see
road ****
Millions of people are abused
every day, we're only abusing
ourselves
Drinking ourselves silly
Smoking our lungs out
We're too lazy or ignorant
sometimes
Too caught up on getting rich
to realize we made money
to make life easier
Trade is best
with a common currency
and that should be
Love.

Runrunrun all day long
the blood pumps and heart jumps
Thumpthump
Nonstop this goes
for hours at a time
fueled by coffee and shmigs
seemingly everlasting is
this high, I wish.
While it rolls, I'll pay
the toll through loss.
Time, things, sleep.
I come out exhasuted
missing precious gifts
from loved ones long ago,
a list of work days unending,
bloodshot drooping dog eyes.
I take the pills and crash,
momentarily,
yet find myself awake
soon thereafter,
wondering where'd it
all come from,
and why'd it go
there?

I been fiddlin on this thing for one hundred twenty days
It seems like it just got nothin good to say
I strum and strum all day long
And nothing happens but noise
All I wanna do is play one song
Try to keep up with the boys
But no notes are coming out right
Its sure putting up a fight
I'll try something new
Press a little harder
But thats got my fingers feeling blue
And I'm no music martyr
So I'll take a ****
And see if the strings turn to smoke
And 'course they don't
But I'll keep playing
til' my fingies fall off
Or my calluses turn to leather
Cuz it can rain or pour
These strings just gotta soar
Don't really care if my songs a bore
At least my foots in the door.

Overhead drifts cobblestone clouds
colliding with smoother cousins.
Attempts are futile to blanket
bright light, a pale halo encompassing
the near full lunar rock, one and the same
seen by my grandfather in the Pacific seas
so many years ago. Constant is the intermittent
rumble of waves lapping the shore,
one and the same that gargantuan crocs
stalked for dinosaur meat so many years ago.
Crunching my toes through the gristly sand
gives not a glimpse of the spectacled mountains
it once composed, so many years ago. Did
a far removed ancestor sit in those mountains
and see this brilliant star to the east, one and the same,
so many years ago? If not, I like to think
millenia from now, my descendant will
and think of me, so many years ago,
one and the same.

You have a big mouth
that really enjoys eating paper
and CDs
and even paper clips
(I always wonder where they go).
No one will steal a glance
at precious files, no more.
Your metallic digestion
sure takes care of that.
How do you eat so much
paper in such a short time?
Information collected
over years and years,
rendered useless
in seconds.
No one will steal identities
thanks to your steely jaws.
The confidential now
incomprehensible.
Manila folders? You say
NOM NOM NOMgarrrrrr…
I try not to give you too much
at one time, you get angry
and your stomach starts to hurt.
Sometimes you’ll even puke on me.
At least its only paper.
Just don’t eat my fingers,
please.

We spill our coffee and reach for the paper towels
We toss tons upon tubs of aluminum cans with the trash each hour
We turn lights on in the middle of the day when the brightest beacon is all we need
We stay glued to televisions evening in and morning out
ANd don't even listen to what they're saying
We sure hear it in the background
Of our cell phone chats and screaming brats
Need Need Need
Is all they say
Day after day
WHy must we need these things so badly
It takes more effort to get ******* and stupid
Than to peacefully sit
And think
About anything in particular
And nothing at the moment
Or something in time
But we do it anyways
Week and week and weak
ANd we wake up the next morning and toss the cans
In a plastic bag
WHich we throw in a bigger can
Which gets picked up by this rolling thundering truck of a thing
That burns more gas than a speedboat
Which is what we're all riding through this life
Rather than paddling down a gentle brook
In a hollowed out tree
Oh wait
We cut all of those down to make more things
Like post it notes we use once
And then toss in another metal can
With another plastic bag
Which as you may guess
Goes on and on in this excessive
And perpetual cycle of total waste
Those trees make pieces of plywood
Which kids paint designs on
And toss ***** back and forth
into more plastic cups
When we could just set our own glasses
Around the place in random spots
And they don't even need to be cups
They could be fishbowls
And you find a small item that does not need to be a ping pong ball it could be a lil toy lion or a seashell or a miniature book
Or an acorn
In fact
Why do we even have houses in the first place
It doesn't rain that often
And when it does
You might as well just climb under a tree
Or duck into a cliff
Or be ******* resourceful
And find a natural solution
Stop buying bag after bag after bag of plastic party cups
Take the ones you already have and make someting fun
You could use them to play a game where you build a palace
By balancing the cups and making walls and such
You can do that with anything you have in your house or outside or wherever you are
Find the fun in things
Think about the infitine number of things you could do with each item you see
We should just sort through our dumps and take evertyhgin and make it into something useful
Stop resource production completely
And live naturally.

Does grass get angered
when plod upon by giants,
human destructors
               ---
Droop eyes die, sleep time
for dream world of unknown myths
dead in the morning
               ---
More to come................

Precariously perched atop a mountain
Swaying in the sickly sweet breeze
To the right, shining sun
Blissfully beckons.
To the left, deathly drums
Pound my mind ceaselessly.
Restless, I pace the psyche depths
In a race neverending.
Fleeing myself?
Thoughts of blades and pills
Delude this once harmonious life.
Godammit WHY I cry
As I look to the right
At my lover, so divine.
Such passion, such beauty
Should break these **** chains,
Yet they brace and remain
Leave me low all the same.
Birds swoop above, free,
Taunting with their calls.
So I jump and fly
Higher, so high
through the mounds of clouds,
I have found
Freedom fleeting.
Will it last?

Beating at the core of it all
lies some source that powers
the world without stall.
Thump ti dump di bump
it pounds, day in and out,
reverberating through
the cosmos and you.

You sing a song with
your footsteps down the lane,
which soars through the air
with its cherry blossom way.
We all play the tune if we know
it or not, its just doesn't quite
matter if you whistle or you pop.

When I see you on the street
I can wave or glance away.
My gesture is a harmony
each and every day. We
prefer to live together rather
than to grow a part. Live your life
connected, dissonance need not start.

Ay' there all ya drunkerds
Ahoy to those that sin
I hope i aint been slurrin words
For I'm a few pints in!

So grab your glass
And heres a toast
To the merry, we be green!
May your days be short
and your nights be long
and your mornings, not so mean.

Where is this God you Christians speak of?
I don’t see him on the news.
Or in the paper when villages burn.
I believe a part of Him resides in me,
yet I am more powerful than ever He be.
Can He save a French African girl from drowning?
I can, and have.
Can He feed the hungry in the shivering cold?
I have not, but at least I tried and will try again.
I am my own Creator, he had no hand in this.
My ancestors created Me, not He.
And I will continue to create, for all of time, if only in memory.
He may have made the locks, but I hold the key.
Why turn to a ghost for aid?
When I was lost, I found my way,
and I was down a map and hadn’t a clue.
I am a savior of children divine.
I have no reason to believe I am not a God.
But don’t expect me to save you.

I sit here on break at my nine to five,
perusing the depths of word music divine.
Beauty I seek and bliss do I find
from poets unknownst to my imaging eye.
They come from some places so foreign to me.
Yet the freedom we share with our tongues
and our souls, it speaks volumes of strings
that connect us untold. Through the blessings
of two friends with gold in their hearts
I united with one  lamp whom lit up the dark.
This darkness had been shown to me, no not yet;
this lighting of candles conquered the sunset
of a beautiful Spirit who speaks strong to me.
I thank her for the words I look forward to read,
inspiring so, can't wait to join you infinity.

So I know wha t we say
and i know how we say it
but why why why
THERES  too many lines i think
to stay in one at once
so where do we go
when theres nowhere else to go
but here
or maybe there if thats what you into
but im defnitiely not into that dude
so you better stay the **** away
or i may go crazy and rip your marinara
into a new toilet cloth for the towels
and then you will have noooooo
idea what the **** i just said

How do you expect me
to live it out like this
so many fraudulent claims
and no one to even blame!?
But myself, I guess?
How can I do that
when they say
do your best?
Its like living in a dream
when it seems so fake
and then you wake
and can't even take the reality
that you face.
Whats the point if you ain't
bein' real
to yourself
to your mind and your memory
Mighta got lost at some point
but I'm here now, say
when you comin back
I hear them
And for some reason
it all always just fades
to black and white
Mainly gray now

At times I dance and cry
you might ask why

There's a fire in the sky as I watch the sun rise.
Can't put it to words, only can the birds
as they fly above; they see it every day,
what a beautiful pink haze over a turquoise sea
eclipsed under by mountains of trees.
Horizon starts to shine.
******* buildings, such a crime,
obscuring perfect view,
wonders to me oh so new.
Usually I'd be in a deep daze
watching dreams amaze in a maze.
Today though, I was conscious.

Seem to be chasing what I can't reach
as it starts to get bright with soft dawn light.
Going against the arrows I knew,
what I'm doin' is staying true.
Red cardinal sing to me in a sea of green.
Perspective puts me past what I'd seen.
The troubles I've had just float away,
cuz while I sleep starts a new day.
Looking at my life, its pretty ok,
the troubles I've had just float away.....

Loud life takes a break
as I wander through the calm
forest of my mind.
Let the chit chatter and silly banter
cease to exist, for now
is the time to sit quietly
enjoying the tranquility
of the beautiful wilderness.

My mind screams STRANGLE
and my heart whimpers a cry I don't hear.
This doctors not to be trusted,
he's in on it too, I swear.
Where are my claws when I need them?
These petty fingernails just leave red marks
as I sit in this chair like at the dentist,
but instead of cleaning my teeth
they're cleaning my mind!!!
Patches of grey from here on out.
Little dixie cups with pills
that I don't want but I fear for
what happens if I refuse.
'That's a good boy' they say
as I swig down the water,
sour taste left in my mouth.
They don't let you sleep here,
during the day at least.
And they're ALLLL out to get ya,
watching your every move.
I don't know where the entrance is
let alone the exit.
Everythings so clean,
if I could even see straight
I'd see no specks of dust.
Group therapies with more spies,
tryin' to get me to talk.
It's a ploy!
Don't say a word boy!
I play chess with my roommate
cuz the meds don't let me read.
He gets me,
checkmate.

I don't wake up each day and say,
Man, I'm happy to be alive.
Eyes open and brain transitions
its focus from the dreams it just endured
to the new and constant problems
it must pursue. I pour my coffee
and let it cool, while subtly
my mind awakens fresh
thanks to the scents of steaming brew.
I drive to work and more often than not
the cars slow to stare at a cop
with someone pulled over; who cares
about this, I've got enough on my own
to worry 'bout like being late cuz of these fools.
And I'm sitting in my car, got some good tunes
flowing, soothing....
I'm perked up, thank you Folger;
of all the things, you're the one
I'll keep coming back to.
Get me outta that morning funk
I despise so much.
For now I am cool and this life is good.
I might not wake up thinking each day,
Man, I'm happy to be alive.
But thats usually the last thought
when I'm hitting the pillow.