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If I drew myself
If I drew a self-portrait
I’d use watercolor pencils
They’re easier to work with
And it’s just as easy to blend
They give more defined lines
A great choice I would think
I’d begin with an outline
Drawn in a mistaken
Grey or oops blue
Working my way bottom to
Top and right to left to maximize the unwanted
Smudges that will later become the mistakes which weren’t my own
I would move onto my face.  Switching to a false green color to start on
My eyes. Coloring the right iris, heavy handed the tip breaks. I sharpen it
Color in more as it goes from fake green to saddened black I stab through
The canvas bringing in some light from behind. Moving onto the left now
I go from green to useless brown. I’d dip the tip in water and just let the
Pencil sit, stuck to the canvas the color drips down the cheek pooling at
The jawline before stopping as if not wanting to let go. Snap goes the lead
Throwing away the pencil so it doesn’t bleed onto the other colors I move
Onto the lips this time. I’d go with pale promise to compliment the right eye
I would add hints of passive anger red and narcissism orange as highlights
For the skin I’d color it in disappointment, several shades, to show definition
I would then take a brush and dip it in water. I’d blend all the colors so it looks
Natural. Blending disappointment with anger, narcissism with uselessness
Fake with disappointment and the mistakes with everything that they touch
Once the painting dries I’d look onto the creation with the same look that a
Famous painter would give their child when they're told their painting *****
I would reluctantly sign my name, take a step back, and crumble the painting
Into a ball and throw it away saying to myself “I know you can do better”
Our love is subject to change,
Just as Daisies wilt,
Love grows not to old age,
It has the undying ability to stand,
Though relationships are brought to an end,
Love is great and builds,
Even greater shewn with deeds,
Hello! Poetry is love of the soul.


Why not give love as seed?,
And not shout racism against a bizarre brother,
Love yields peace,and that's a need.
Why let racism **** one after another?,
Day by day peace like a flower is wilting,
Love for another soul is withering.
Racism is now eating our brothers into the grave, If you are reading this LOVE YOUR FELLOW FOR WE ARE OF THE SAME GOD THOUGH DIFFERENT RELIGIONS
Who can fathom the thoughts of the moon as it sit's in the sky on a hot afternoon?

Or the lovers quarrel  of the sea on the shore? or a river who's banks have flooded the moor?

Or the voice of stars  as  they fall from the sky; do they laugh or do they cry?

Who can understand the mind of a dog, or the chicken or hen or the old barn hog?

Only the mind of a poet who thinks like a shroom,
Who breaths the fire of flowers without bloom.

Try this offer from natures boon.
Just relax and you'll understand soon.

Then take a walk through the woods and ask the trees,
for they have more secrets then they have leaves.
I just kinda started writing with no thought in mind, I let my muse flow freely for this one.
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I am nerdy, weird, and absolutely absurd
With every letter, every symbol, every word
My methods play on my youthful exuberance
So when you see me all goofy and in a trance
Give me a moment to show you how I dance
With my legs, my lips, and my hands I prance
Expressing subtle symbolism with every chance
If you perceive with open eyes, an opened mind
Then you too can leave this paradigm behind
So fly with me, into tomorrow I'll take you to a place
Where fantasy transcends the material right before your face
These preconceived notions of what it means to be
A human in this beautiful world meant to be set free
I stand at the gates to this wonderfully vibrant land
So release your fears to the Father, take an angel's hand
Release the treasure held within your pineal gland
So you too may see the mathematical structure
Of this holographic existence so you may be sure
That all that is material will eventually be torn asunder
To give way to an existence enveloped in loving divinity
Filling your being with noetic lightning; Gnostic thunder
Becoming one with the Godhead in perfect synergy
Another Sunday, time to recover
From all the drugs, my only lover
Take my B vitamins to start the circulation
With some fish oils to reduce inflammation
Most importantly, are my amino acids
Because of that I've been flushed
So now I replenish these masses
The benzos are the only drugs that get touched
So addicted to them, so I know it's a must
If a doctor read this, he'd understand my logic
But if a doctor read this, he'd command me to stop it
As I continue my day with my normal acting mind
I realize I'm a slave to drugs, all the time
But I'm financially flourished
The whole family I nourish

And after reading these poems, I feel some people get jealous
Who would follow me? They know my soul I had sold it
I always follow back, I'm not a bad guy
Now sit on top of that, I'm not living a lie
I could really care less about it
It's just an alias, and a therapeutic outlet
Just another Sunday
Glad you read about it

— The End —