demons and angels.
horns and halos.
wings and wings.
even the pharaoh,
born with Plato,
sings and sings:

“I long for heaven
as well as hell.”

these aren’t just sevens,
they’re eights as well.
the time will tell.

—————————————

o’, thank the stars for darkness,
thank the lord for ghouls and goblins,
thanking god for satan’s roar?

playing the cards of hearts
to flash in clubs with diamonds,
save the spades and maybe score?

what more is said
for parity?

win the best and lose some more
for charity?

nevertheless and neverthemore
the wrongs go right
for parody?

enter a death
to save a life,
and lose the mind
to get to therapy?

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.

unending reminders that what we see is what we are
this glass reflects
that, which we see is who we are
. . . pellucid mirrors . . .
that, which we see is what’s become
this glass reflects
unending reminders that what we see is what we’ve done

perhaps, one day,
once we cease,
some of us
will become the stars

perhaps,
some of our vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife
————————————————
a flawed determination
of iridescence

a dimming, purpose:
to accentuate


a life appears to be
worth losing
life appears to be
worth more


inspiring hopes
of replication

aspiring, hope
to just feel known

without a promise

chance
to follow

dimmed in anguish

storied in peace

presenting, over all,
a flawed
determination of luster
—————————————————
perhaps, one day,
we’ll all become
the brightest of stars
and all vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife

we are given so much leniency, naturally, from life itself; it just gets broken down and separated into categories of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘ok’.

look, what is allowed is what is allowed.

we must allow the nature of freedom to take control and leave the rest alone. or suffer a life of quieted disappointment.

what is allowed is what is allowed.
(that statement does go both ways, of course; but, for the purpose of this conversation, let’s focus on the non-restrictive connotation for a bit)

the forces that are currently sitting atop the thrones control the flow of the day-to-day and do not implement the rules that follow the rules that were given to man, by Mother Nature . . . they try to follow Father Time as though he really even exists

“you do the crime, you do the time”
is what they all say . . .

but, who is it that taught them ‘right’ from ‘wrong’. and, who taught them. and, who taught them. and, who taught Adam and Eve. and who taught God. and who taught Zeus. and who taught . . . Mother Earth? and who taught . . . the Sun? and who taught the other dying stars? and, tell me,
who. taught. the dead ones?
did they not get proper instruction?
who. is in. control. here . . .

what is really allowed . . . ?

and who taught freedom            
how to have        
                      a moral code
in the first place . . .

bent over backward
to meet the requirements,
halo got caught in
afield, full of thorns.

was stranded, was folded,
with pressure,
was molded,
revealed and refocused,

a diamond of scorn.

Do I even want to participate in life anymore? I contemplate, not killing myself, but disappearing. I swear I could summon something to come into my life and just take over my soul. Ok, not really. . .I just have no clue what to write about anymore. And, man, I gotta tell ya, as a writer (and I know that’s a lot of commas), this is like the lowest of low. To write is my only job. It’s supposed to be my passion. And, to see that I’m too drugged out and not educated enough to have a steady flow of intelligent ideas to share with the world to make it better for the next generations, it just hurts my soul. But not really, cause I’m high. I can’t really tell or feel that I’m in pain until I’m off the drugs and out of money. My two highs. Drugs and money. What happened to the guy who wanted to achieve a happy and content life without those things as a necessity. . .? Where’d he go? The real Hippie Steve. You wanna claim to be this peaceful and cool guy who thinks logically and morally yet intelligently. Yet, you still fall into the same habits as those around you that you complain about on a daily basis. You are no better than the next guy. And, though you already know this, you do not act like it. It’s ridiculous just how neglectful you’ve been to your own health. Mental and physical. For what? For the high to keep going? What kind of a high is it? Tell yourself, tell me, what is it that you are working towards? What is it that you’re close to achieving? What is it that you are on track to finish? Besides a slow and ingratiating death, what else have you promised for yourself in this life? NOT A **** THING! And that needs to change! Stop talking about it. Take some writing courses online and do some writing exercises. Think outside the box. Create the app. Create a portfolio for freelance writing. Create your own ****!!! So you can work on your own and hire people and invest and all that fancy ****. Just go do it.

unparalleled level of questioning.
skeptical devil deceptively
deviating from the ******,
the spectrum of fools.
'tis destiny's rule
to seek answers
to questions
for lessons
and tools.

step one is think but not too much,
think only enough to move the body,
think only enough to guide
but not too much.
allow the mind
the time to find
itself before you
let it take control of you

step two is think but not too much,
think only enough to still the being,
think only enough to still the urge
but not too much.
allow the body
the freedom
to fall
in forms
it feels
but don't forget
to feel your way

step three is here
you must instill
in order to heal
you must adhere
in order to hear
you must not chase the thrill of rush
but long for sakes of betterment.
what is concealed will slowly reveal,
just follow the steps until
it's time to breathe . . .

step four is breathe,
and breathe as deeply
as the atmosphere allows
and let the astral air
assemble your arousal . . .

“at this pizza place, all they got is cheese with no crust, a little bit of rust mixed in from every bolt and every nut, at every table is a **** that’s ready to . . .”

grow up . . .

“serving hard knocks with a side of familiarity opens up a path for the freaks, or something like that . . .”

throw up . . .
spill guts at tables, overstuffed, not able to feed themselves, unstable, and to the stables they wander . . .
must be food time again . . .

“whatever fills me up with what I lack is what I’ll indulge in, praising him/her to stay above ‘sin’, o’ here I go again . . .”

throw up . . .
spill guts at tables, overstuffed, not able to feed themselves, unstable, and wandering . . . and wandering . . . unable to stop and . . .
grow up . . .
serving hard knocks with a side of familiarity opens up a path for the damaged, or something like that . . .

I really shouldn’t talk, while I’m eating

the way that I'm treated when I can’t seem to understand makes me feel like less of a man. with outstretched hands I'm handed nothing; without a chance I won't be something.
who takes a stand behind
“the man who has no plan”?

I still see no one . . .

why look to the sky for answers
when life is all around? why even utter a sound, when the only person that really needs to heed your words and hear your thoughts, is you?

what do you do when the only thing left for you to do is pray?

you say your prayers
by writing them down
and live your life a better way.

~
somehow, I've ended up in this basement again.

this dreary little basement. it's my comfort zone, apparently.
each time I leave, I tell myself I must escape, to get away from comfort.

to get away from darkness that I've known my whole life,
I push and push my own body up these steps,
far too steep for fondness.
push, my self out of that comfort zone
over and over again in pursuit of light
to touch my skin and bring my pigment back,
to bring a little color back into sight . . .
I push my body to some limits it has never known
to break it free from this contentment.

step by step, go one by one;
that's the only way I'm able to keep this spirit moving forward.
slumber caused some stalling way too long.
I take it very slow now;
that's all that I can do now. . .
that's really all I do . . .

drift . . .
in and out of light . . . or maybe in and out of darkness . . .
losing consciousness . . . I'm no longer under surface.

this is foreign land.

I shy away to come right back inside this house,
I left my home to see this other side, and it . . .
just scares me, to be honest.

I'm shaking bad now,
but not just in my legs from lack of energy,
my whole body is quaking,
I'm withdrawing, falling back into this basement,
falling back into this comfort, falling back into this slumber,
going under . . .

and I don't even care
that I am no longer aware of my surroundings . . .
that other side was just too strange,
too far outside my boundaries.

perhaps, I'll try again, tomorrow,
if I get up
~

throughout his soul there is a blend
of monochromatic, a sort of automatic
and indefinite . . .

. . . black . . .

'tis acknowledgement, more than thankfulness, that allows a being to reap all of the glorious benefits that this life has to offer.
it is seeing. it is believing. it is acknowledging
. . .
all that exists . . . acknowledge it. so that its existence does not go unnoticed.
and, notice, i am not asking you to focus on it, i am not asking you to give everything in life more attention than it deserves but be aware.
when something pops into your realm of awareness, acknowledge it;
that's how you stay aware. don't ignore it, don't overdo it.
universal acknowledgement will do
. . .
and once you've acknowledged the presence of the object, only then will you be able to decide how to feel about it.
only then, will you be able to truly understand what is going on around you.
'tis acknowledgement that is the key to our emotions.
before we know how to hate or to love, before we know how to be happy about, before we know how to be sad about, before we know how to feel indifference towards
. . .
we must have acknowledged the object of our feelings . . .
before we are able to be thankful for . . .
before we are even able to thank . . .
we have to acknowledge
. . .
i've fiddled with this idea for a while and i believe i've finally come to a temporary conclusion, just bear with me.
. . .
we pray and we pray and we thank all day long.
we speak to God, or any other entity that will listen, to send us some help or to appreciate.
yet, how do we even know what to appreciate . . . if we are not aware, if we have not acknowledged all that is present in our lives
. . .
how can I say "thank you" for a blessing I know nothing about . . .
how can I know what needs to leave my life if I have not acknowledged it as such - simply a thing that is no good for me - how do I feel no good about something I have not felt
. . .
if I keep my eyes shut long enough, will all of life disappear without ever giving me a chance to be thankful, or without ever giving me a chance to see what is necessary and unnecessary.
will things ever change if we do not open our minds, our eyes, our hearts, open up our ears, if we are not open to all ideas, will we ever be able to see what is truly right and what is truly wrong
. . .
acknowledgement. an automatic ability of a being but there is something that keeps us from acknowledging the presence of the ability to acknowledge, within ourselves . . .

s­tep four is breathe
and breathe as deeply
as the atmosphere allows
and let the astral air
assemble your arousal.

step one is think but not too much,
think only enough to move the body;
think only enough to guide
but not too much.
allow the mind
the time to find
itself before you
let it take control
of your next step.
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . ­ .
step two is think but not too much,
think only enough to still the being;
think only enough to still the urge
but not too much.
allow the body
the freedom to fall
in forms it feels
and do not forget
to feel your way
to your next step.
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . ­ .
step three is here
you must instill in order to heal,
you must adhere in order to heel,
you must not chase the thrill of rush
but long for sakes of betterment.
what is concealed will slowly reveal;
just follow the steps until
it's time to breathe . . .
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .
s­tep four is breathe
and breathe as deeply
as the atmosphere allows
and let the astral air
assemble your arousal.

" . . .that a person
from my walk of life
is able to dance amongst
you fine folk, untethered . . .

that's what I hope to prove."

if you love me then
why do you hate me as well
maybe they are truly one in the same.
maybe night is truly the same as the day
- excluding the hue of the sky.
we all still exist and
everything still stays the same
whether it is in dark or in light.

then, so should the heart;
no matter if it burns
with anger or love,
the passion should always remain.

yet, still, I wonder
what it takes for us to travel
from a place of false contentment
to a place of honest bliss.
one day soon,
hopefully, I'll find that out.

glass is really a mirror;
unending reminders that what we see is what we are.

that, which we see, is that, which we are
and, we are all the same life.

we are all but one existence.
we are all the same breath.

we're truly not that different.

tell yourself, and all shall listen;
we are together. we are one.

the soil of Mother Earth
seeps through to my skin
and I accept every last bit
because it's truly necessary
-------------------------------------
for me to just continue to lay here . . .
and to be able to feel the . . .

Earth family...accept every last bit of me...

and allow me . . .to just lay here . . .
and to be able to feel . . .
-------------------------------------
perhaps, acceptance
just might be the key
to what is concealed.

"tread slowly. tread slowly.
'tis unholy to see freedom.

look around you. look around you.
see the world and all its bleeding.

say your prayers. say your prayers.
say your prayers with your eyes open.

don't lose focus. don't lose focus.
we are only what we notice."

dressed in all black with a spirit to match.

brilliant scenery trapped
beneath the  surface of obsidian.

a haunted cave, a burning light,
enchanted rock, undying flame,
ignite the chamber, start again.

ignite the chamber, start again.

soft grass in a field,
golden sun in the air,
fair weather in the atmosphere,
no annoying bugs.

I am miserable.

I thought this field was able to support me,
and I thought that natural light was truly colorless,
and I didn't think that anything in life was really fair,
but, I still wanted all the bugs to be my friends. to shake it up a bit.

I curse the world for voting all at once.
the green grass, the golden sun, the blue sky,
the disappearance of foreign bodies. this world
already had a preconceived idea of what
a perfect world was like.

it's like I chose to be eccentric. like you all decided
differently from my decisions. making me the villain

but, this is my life.
and I cannot do what is wrong.
meaning, I am not capable of bending to your rules.
my senses do not react to this universal stimuli
in a universal way. I am an individual. I react
individually.

and, so, every part of this human being reacts individually
but, decides, as one, that each of those reactions
needs to be included in this body. that each part is worth working with
to make it all work. together. as one.

that's the way it should be. . .

heading in the right direction
makes me question,
“am I headed
in the right direction?”

I don’t know
but, I keep going.
never slowing
never looking back;
I have to stay on track.

I bought this one way trip to heaven
and I'm never coming back.

can I grow tomorrow?
place a bucket over my head
to block the sun; protect my innocence
for a while. I'll grow tomorrow.
but, today. . .

I just wanna see the darkness
with my eyes open, in hopes
of understanding. I can be aware
of my surroundings, though I
do not see, distinctly, I can
tell that I'm surrounded.
something bigger than myself.
protecting me from what is good. . .
so that it won't become the bad. . .
protecting my naiveté.

just leave the bucket;
walk away.
I'll grow tomorrow.

You don't know me yet but, one day,
you will. My name is your name.
I'm _ years old and the year is __.

There's your preface. Let's begin.

---------------------------------------------------------­-----

you are a ******* and you know it.
a literal *******. you smell.
you're sloppy. you're always laying down.
you're never doing anything . . .
except waiting for somebody else
to push you out and make you
see the light before you're
finally flushed away into eternal darkness . . .

you're like a baby, is what I'm saying . . .
the "*******" reference was
only meant to be metaphoric,
you're still cute. chill . . .
you just don't do anything!

but, one day, you will.
you just gotta grow first.
like, mentally and spiritually.
the physical will come, don't even sweat it, kid.
oh, oops, my mistake . . ."big" kid.
forgot you're like a whole toddler now.

you still don't do anything, though.
except yap away.
yap. yap. yap. yap. yap.
but, you still don't really say anything.
and it's not 'cause you don't know how,
I mean, geez, you're like a preteen now.

you just don't care. and you told me, specifically,
"I don't care." and I said, "fine".
'cause I'm not there.
I'm not in control of what you do.
like you're not in high school anymore, man.

you don't have to do anything
you don't want to do. you know about life.
you know how it works. you are able
to do the things that you want to do . . .
you're like an adult, for ****'s sake!

but nothing's changed has it?
everything's still the same.
you're still a *******.

so, as a *******,
you will remain . . .

I hope, one day, you change . . .

I went to sleep
(right next to you)
alone.

Then I woke up and I was still
(right next to you)
alone.

I wanted to check my phone.
(no texts from you)
I'm still alone.

I want you home.
(what's left of you?)
I know, I know, I got
(the best of you)
issues, I'm wrong.
(what's best for you?)

But, I just want to know
(the rest of you)
if you'll come home.

Leave me in the woods
and watch the grass
grow over my feet.
Place me on a cloud
and look at where I land.