3d · 46
empty vessel
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 . . .
4d · 150
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.
Carl Webb II Oct 4
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

Sep 23 · 62
the flames get nearer
Carl Webb II Sep 23
sitting on a bed of coals,
I'm on my knees.

in ****,

I yell.


I scream
up to the surface,
hear me scream,
and hear my purpose,
know the meaning
don't desert me
I have died
and I am burning.
hope returning
won't be out of reach.
the flames get nearer
Sep 23 · 40
Carl Webb II Sep 23
responsibility isn't my strong suit.

take care of me, please, so I don't have to
make my own way. I'll adapt to what you say
never say a thing, myself,
the consequences are too dire.

if you'll help me retire and tire me more,
the more I conspire, the less I perform,
the less I inspire . . .
the more I deplore . . .

responsibility isn't my strong suit.
Sep 20 · 49
Carl Webb II Sep 20
throughout his soul there is a blend
of monochromatic, a sort of automatic
and indefinite . . .

. . . black . . .
Sep 11 · 105
the key, pt. 1
Carl Webb II Sep 11
'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 ***, 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 . . .
pt. 1
Carl Webb II Sep 9
s­tep four is breathe
and breathe as deeply
as the atmosphere allows
and let the astral air
assemble your arousal.
the meditative state
Sep 9 · 165
the meditative state
Carl Webb II Sep 9
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.
the meditative state
Sep 8 · 156
Carl Webb II Sep 8
it must Be the Blame of all the Bombastic Conceptions Created this Chaos,
this Desolate Destruction of Emotions
that are Ever so Evolving into Freedom! Freedom?

oh, we Gave it all away to ***
for it is He that Hath the Heart to Heal, but, see,

i am not I . . . i can never be I . . .
so I . . . Just Jot and know Joy . . .

so i . . . just jot with no joy . . .

i is no king of kings . . .

i is no lord of lords . . .

i can only be Me . . .

and, see. Myself . . . is all i'll ever aspire to be . . .
Sep 8 · 62
Reckless Danger
Carl Webb II Sep 8
Reckless endangerment,
empowering rebellion.
empowering resistance.
empowering the mischief
reckless endangerment . . .

Recklessly endangered . . .
I'm afraid I'm the only one left
I fear too much has happened
to the ones who once stood with me
now against me . . .

Recklessly in danger.
run amuck amongst the filth
and let it gather
reckless danger.

Reckless, danger.
It's a warning to you all,
do not come with me
do not touch me
do not . . . get too close . . .

Reckless. Danger.
Sit in silence
to solve the madness.

I am not in anguish.

I am not afflicted.

Reckless Danger.

Reckless Danger
Reckless Danger.
Carl Webb II Sep 7
the love walked out the door
and took the pain along with it.

the hate that burned
the joy that stayed
the face that turned
to face the rain . . .

got washed away
when moonlight came
to grave the day
when moonlight came
to grieve . . .

the same night
the stars fell
out of the sky.

the day the door slammed shut
it shook this world
and brought down structures
built to last . . . dare I say . . .forever?

the lies that left too
still deny me truth
got left behind me
proof it wasn't
just another dream . . .

a fakeness left
reality set in
seemed . . .
too bad to be true . . .
too harsh to believe . . .

a dream is all it seemed . . .
Carl Webb II Sep 5
" . . .that a person
from my walk of life
is able to dance amongst
you fine folk, untethered . . .

that's what I hope to prove."
Sep 5 · 113
Carl Webb II Sep 5
|                                                                                                   "I can digg it."

. . . I can digg it, too . . . but don't go thinking you know me.

                                                            ­                            " wait. . . excuse me?"

I mean, I'm feeling you, for sure,
but, don't get me wrong . . .
until we've dugg down deep enough to truly see each other's truest selves
and gotten stuck in each other's truest depths . . . I, mean . . .
you can't possibly be that deeply entrenched in me just yet. I
can't possibly have gone that deep in you just yet . . .
we can't talk about the present as if it were the future, is what I'm saying . . .

                                                              ­                                          " . . .go on."

we're still digging . . .

yes, you can digg it, and, so can I . . .
but, don't you even dare begin to think we've reached our peak
and don't you dare believe we've understood
and don't you dare . . .
don't you dare stop digging . . .is all I'm saying, ok?
don't you ever, ever, ever stop digging . . . ok?



                                                              ­                   .

                                                              ­                                              "Never." |
Aug 18 · 68
freedom is key
Carl Webb II Aug 18
attach wings to the backs
of me and my brethren
instead of whipping truth
from the cracks of our temple.
the preachings from the center
are supposed to release us
but stakes in our chains
run too deeply . . .

and, here I sit,
locked up in captivity
the prison of my self
it was the truth that kept me down . . .
it is the truth that sets me free . . .

and freedom is key . . .
Aug 16 · 63
undying infatuation
Carl Webb II Aug 16
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.
Aug 16 · 473
what's inside pt. 3
Carl Webb II Aug 16
yet, still, I wonder
what it takes for us to travel
from a place of false contentment
to a place of true bliss.
one day soon,
hopefully, I'll find out.
Aug 16 · 99
I still believe . . .
Carl Webb II Aug 16
in this cave, there should be a light.
the dreams got sold to eternally rest.
arise and view the same old life.
the dark to dark.
the night to night.
the mourning to mourning
light is far too bright
for me to be in this cave . . .and out of sight . . .

despite the fright,
I still believe
that everything
is going to be alright . . .
Carl Webb II Aug 15
remember this: memories die.

if you do not think
of the times that you’ve had.
the times that you lived and you laughed,
the times that you cried,
the times that you felt . . .
if you don’t remember the past,
you’ll only be left with the present.
just think about that.

and, then, we’ll proceed to the end.

remember each moment again and again
and, when your life’s movie
is starting to end
you’ll forever be satisfied
and able to go home in peace.
but, until then, please . . .

just remember each moment.
Carl Webb II Aug 12
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.
Aug 5 · 149
remember each moment
Carl Webb II Aug 5
the moments that I see before my eyes before I die
are most important.

just think about that for a second, if you don't mind.
once you've signed the death agreement
and taken in the light, before the total darkness . . .
they say, a movie plays that's just for you.
a movie about you, made by you.

pause, right here, for another second, if you don't mind.
when movies play, they do not include
the entire lives of those that are portrayed.
they include the pieces that tell the story the best.

now, let us continue.
an­d, when this movie plays - the movie that was
made for you, by you -
it does not last for seconds, minutes, hours,
days, weeks, months, years, like your life did;
it lasts as long as you can remember.
and memories die, so . . .

pause, once more for me, please, if you do not mind.
memorie­s die. if you do not think
about the times that you've had.
the times that you lived and you laughed,
the times that you cried,
the times that you felt . . .
if you do not remember the past,
you will only be left with the present.
just think about that.

and, then, we'll proceed to the end.
. . .remember each moment again and again
and again. and, when your life's movie is starting to end. . .
you'll be satisfied and able to go home in peace.
but, until then, please . . .

just remember each moment.
Aug 4 · 1.4k
i finally feel real
Carl Webb II Aug 4
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.
i finally feel real
Carl Webb II Aug 2
"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."
Carl Webb II Aug 1
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.
a spark is all it takes
Jul 31 · 84
all-embracing pt. 1
Carl Webb II Jul 31
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

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. . .
Jul 27 · 105
golden train
Carl Webb II Jul 27
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 bough this one way trip to heaven
and I'm never coming back.
Jul 27 · 1.0k
Carl Webb II Jul 27
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.
Creative Commons License
alt-blossom by Carl E. Webb, II is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
Carl Webb II Jul 27
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 . . .
Jul 26 · 466
addressed to: you
Carl Webb II Jul 26
I went to sleep
(right next to you)

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

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.
Jul 21 · 65
no loitering, please
Carl Webb II Jul 21
at the edge of the abyss, these rugged bones have found a home.
at least, for now.
a time to rest. although, alone is what is best to just reflect,
the edge is sitting next to nothingness disguised as flesh and breath.

o', what a test. must reflect.

reflection staring into cores of this detest.
must reflect.

into the cores of this existence. into origins of sentence.
finding ways away from mischief, while the edge is in the distance

run away and run away. never stay.
for, it is not for resting.
only for the blessing. learn a lesson.
never stress and never stay.
just run away.
for, it is not for resting.
Jul 18 · 54
bittersweet acceptance
Carl Webb II Jul 18
Leave me in the woods
and watch the grass
grow over my feet.
Place me on a cloud
and look at where I land.
Jul 17 · 55
Carl Webb II Jul 17
Supply me with the right amount of grace
to satisfy my longing.
Do not overwhelm me with your glory;
I have had enough.


Run away with all of my belongings,
rob me of my wanting.
Take away the greed that fills me up
and leave my barren body open . . .
Jul 9 · 742
broken promises
Carl Webb II Jul 9
I may never be **** and that's fine
but you put me through a **** of a time.
I can't find
all the hearts I had to toss to the side;
they weren't mine.
you're the heart, I never tossed you aside;
you weren’t mine though
you never will be mine though
it's fine though.

I'm fine, bro,
I swear.
Jun 16 · 54
. . .down here.
Carl Webb II Jun 16
I'm sleeping next to these remains
because it's all the same. . .

there's no relief, down here, at the bottom of this pit.
the ground is wet.
my **** is wet.
I placed my hand in someone else's spit,
I only jumped down here to get away,
ya know,
I never intended to stay,
the misery in the air is far too thick,
but, still,

I'm sleeping next to these remains
because it's all the same. . .

I see the lights of day,
I see the days of night,
I see the nights of light,
but it is never bright. . .

I'm sleeping next to these remains
because it's all the same. . .
May 31 · 88
Carl Webb II May 31
to sit. and stare.
in silence. burning.
surrounded by flames.
encircled. and hurting.
hurting. hurting.
eternally pained.
foreverly sitting.
still. staring.
in silence.
May 25 · 44
truly free
Carl Webb II May 25
I saw what the other side looked like...
and I didn’t like it.

So I came back.

And now,
knowing all
there is to know,
I’m ready to live life
the way life
is supposed
to be lived.
May 12 · 81
Carl Webb II May 12
you may not be the one,
but you're my one right now.

and if the future never comes,
that'll be the best present
I've ever had.
May 11 · 51
there's more upstairs
Carl Webb II May 11
…a haunted cave,

a burning light,

enchanted rock,

a dying flame,

ignite the chamber,

start again…
May 7 · 143
Carl Webb II May 7
I placed my self
upon this shelf
for you to understand
the life and death
that took the breath
of, yet, another witless man. . .
May 5 · 49
Carl Webb II May 5
ray of color,
pierce my soul
and brighten up
my spirit, bleed
the gloom and doom
to leave more room
for hope...
May 4 · 83
peaces of war
Carl Webb II May 4
what can liberate me, besides
the sounds of war behind me...

the ability to hear
the drums go silent,
no more marching,
no more fighting
...no more dying...

I've been wounded,
over the bodies.
falling of tears
I'm tired of crying
cries for help!

Help, over here!
I think
we got
a live one...!

But, nobody cares...
'cause nobody hears...
it seems they've all
gone into hiding
May 1 · 266
We End Up
Carl Webb II May 1
Will we meet in heaven?

If you leave today,
and I leave tomorrow,
will we arrive at paradise
around the same time?

Will it matter
who really gets there first?

Will our decisions
have an effect on
we end up
we end up
we end up?

As we stand here,
our feet entrenched
in wispy billows,
barely keeping us afloat,
we hold our breath
so we don't fall,
then take off running
at our different paces,
in our separate ways,
and at our different times,
and make our way
to the same location.

Will it matter, then,
how we got there
when we got there?

Will the question be about
where is it
that we've ended up?

will it be
with our different paces,
and our separate ways
and our differing times of departure...
have we arrived
at this same location
at the same time...
Apr 29 · 152
'13 reflections
Carl Webb II Apr 29
To scream out loud or write it all down?

A decision, left to the extremity of the undying emotion of the mime inside...

What one wants to say,
what one has to say,
and what one needs to say,
all seem to separate for a limited amount of time but, once the seconds tick down on the time bomb that lies waiting for
the right
all the words seem to come together to create quite the show.

Out of the roots,
up the stem,
through the leaves
and then exploding from within,
seeping out of the pores like a volcanic eruption.

Dormancy to activity.

And, all of a sudden,
"what I should have said"
turns into
"Oh my! What did I just say?"

A timeless, priceless transition from over-powering self-confidence to reflective self-doubt occurring instantly; but, the bullets cannot and should not go back inside the unloaded, smoking Desert Eagle, better known as the mouth or even the pen, of that restless individual.

Whether at the ears or at the eyes, the shots have been fired and are, now, making their way to the brain, to the mind, and, eventually, to the heart.

for better or for worse...
...a toll is taken.
Mar 22 · 105
Carl Webb II Mar 22
which way do I go
along this road...

shall I travel home
or shall I wander west
among the rest
and be where I belong,

I know it’s wrong...
to look out at the world
and think I’m all alone
I know it’s wrong...
to look out at the world
and think I’m not alone

I know I’m wrong...
to look
inside my home
and see a cell
I know I’m wrong...
to take a look
inside my soul
and see a ****
I know I’m wrong...
to see the other side,
when I should see myself...

I know I’m wrong...
but I just need some help.

Yeah, just need some help...
Mar 18 · 134
Leave Nothing Out
Carl Webb II Mar 18
Tell the story of liberation to my children when you tell them about my death.
Tell them what I died for.
Tell them how long I got to live.

Tell them the whole story, please...
...leave nothing out...

Not the depression, not the sin, not the lies, not the happiness - whether it was deserved or not - you better tell them I was happy, too.

Give them, at least, that satisfaction and tell them I experienced even a little bit of joy...let them know that I did not always suffer...let them know that life can be enjoyed...leave nothing out...
Carl Webb II Mar 3
...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.
Feb 27 · 216
[title pending]
Carl Webb II Feb 27
Tie-dye shirt and all black sweats.
Can hippies have depression, too?
Or should we all just be much too entranced by the magic of burning grass to understand what it feels like to live in a world of dying thoughts, or thoughts of dying.
I apologize, I can’t quite get my thoughts together.
Forgive, me.

It must be the drugs.

These broken dreams can break the promises of life.
The promises that broke the wall and built the fence that still can never ever be climbed, that still can never ever be conquered...

and even though, they are just fences, we can never seem to stumble our way over them because we won’t dare to stumble near them...

because we can’t ever even see them...

I’m thinking...it must be the drugs...

See, we can’t jump,
no, no,
we can’t get off the ground,
we can’t even run,
we can’t take steps,
we can’t even move,
we can’t sit still...

but we go everywhere...

...and we go nowhere...

At the same time...?

It’s gotta be the drugs.

cause see, we’re stuck in this time,
and this time...
when it goes by...
I pray...
maybe we’ll go with it...ya know...?

or maybe we’ll go against it...

or maybe we’ll do both...

...it seems, to me...
like it’s gotta be the drugs, eh?

It must be the fault of all the flamboyant Conceptions Created this Chaos, this Desolate Destruction of Emotions that are Ever so Evolving into Freedom! Freedom!
oh, we Give it all away to *** for it is He that Hath the Heart to Heal, but, see,
I am not I...I can never be I...so I...Just Jot with no Joy...

so I just jot with no joy...

I am no king of kings...

I am no lord of lords...

I am only me...

but I’m guessing
that can only be
because of the drugs, right?
Feb 24 · 163
Yo, Self
Carl Webb II Feb 24
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, a dying flame,
ignite the chamber,
start again.

Ok, wait, hold it...
start again, dude, c’mon...
But this time,
give a bit more detail, will ya?

Ok. Fine.

A young man dressed in all black,
with black skin...

that part’s not really important...

I just want you to feel me this time.
Ya, feel me?

This dark soul is deeply disturbed
by the devil, dude...
...or maybe...
simply disordered by the darkness...
either way,
the dysfunction has a depth to it,
I’m telling you.

Are you listening?
Ok, great!

So, moving along
beneath the surface
there is no light.

That’s it! Ok?

But there’s more
there’s so much more
up top!
on the ceiling!
bulbs are blooming
with brilliance!

I’ve lost you again, haven’t I...?

...ya think...?

all I’m really trying to tell you

Life has beat me down, man.
Inside and out.
But more so on the inside...
It turned my soul black,
made me depressed,
made me dark.
Inside and out.

But, for some reason,
something within me still lives.

and I just wish you could see it
like me...
Sep 2017 · 76
Carl Webb II Sep 2017
A powerful kick from the A/C is what finally let Balloon's face out of the corner and abruptly spun it around. that kick is what finally caused Balloon to be allowed to see a window for the first time.
resting face against the surface of a brighter world in a newer place, Balloon has no choice but to watch the whimsical movement of the wind throughout the tips of the untrimmed grass below the trees, shooting upward with the breeze, Balloon has seen the swift and seemingly untamed movement of Leaf. Uncontrollably criss-crossing in charismatic loops, Leaf spins in so many circles and so fast that the view that Leaf once had is now skewed. Leaf gets carried away. Up here, things cannot be looked at in the same way that they were before the wind tore holes in the skin and Leaf had no choice but to swing away, to and fro, and enjoy the fall with upward gaze.
Just below the haze of magical nothingness,
with nothing left to experience
except the baby blue-blanketed sky,
Eagle appears and flashes by and
Eagle will never leave the sky
because Eagle knows how to fly
because Eagle knows how to flap
because Eagle flies higher to look further down,
because Eagle flies higher than the rest,
and Eagle flies alone . . .

because Eagle will never leave the sky


so focus down below
to where the grass has grown
the prancing has begun and now
the ground begins to move and now
the Beasts are having fun.
the Beasts will never lose the beat,
will lose control.
the Beast will gain a soul
and in the midst of chaos
love has finally grown.

and Human’s heart
is now at peace
Jan 2017 · 187
Celestial Teaching
Carl Webb II Jan 2017
Flames created souls in the gusts of wind,
A spark to start a life,
Sizzled and burned so bright with magical colors of vivacious orange, hypnotic red, luminescent yellows that would light up dark spots.
Visible to the ***** two eyes of all who gazed, felt by the ***** bodies of those standing in the way of the cold and ***** bodies.
Feeling nothing but the dark grey smoke.
No light, no warmth.
Some began to choke as I inhaled with the whole of my mere existence, and basked in the gods of freedom.
Beautiful extraterrestrial wisps, peeling off in an unknown dance, choreographed precisely with the wind.
Thankful that they let me feel the smoke on my skin, its freedom engulfed my aura, taught it how to be, how to do, how to feel.
Its cool matched my cool during those few milliseconds of heaven where we met, tangoed, felt and understood, then dissipated in the dark as its father lied to rest, and we all felt the same cold in the same way on our ***** bodies, at the same time.
While some had fun memories of colors, light, and warmth, I was left with a lingering feeling of what it's like to be free.
And a lesson on just how to get there.
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