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7.8k · Jul 2018
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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.
4.0k · Jul 2018
golden train
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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.
3.4k · Aug 2018
what's inside pt. 3
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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.
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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
2.7k · Jul 2016
Today is That Day
Carl Webb II Jul 2016
What is it about me
that stops you from seeing
the good in these bones, in this body,
in this skin so black
that it gives you heart attacks
to the point that you feel the need
to attack our hearts, our chests, our arms,
our backs with your weapons of hate.
"Please","stop", "wait"
are all foreign to you
when uttered by these big lips
on this black face.
Perhaps, that is all you see.
A black face.
But I encourage you,
better yet, I demand you
to expand your vision
and see through this skin,
yes, the one with all the melanin,
the one that you wish you were in,
and gaze upon my soul.
I am told by the likes of you
that my time is limited,
but we see different signs in the sky,
you and I,
for my ancestors tell me
it is time for me to fly.
So, once you unlock these chains,
or even if you refuse
and continue to televise my pain,
one day I will rejuvenate
and I will spread my wings
and I will fly.
2.4k · Aug 2018
i finally feel real
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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
2.4k · Jul 2016
Carl Webb II Jul 2016
The preservation of humans begins
when we all see each other
as souls
instead of bodies
with different skin.
2.3k · Dec 2018
inquire to inspire.1
Carl Webb II Dec 2018
how do insecurities creep inside
at our most powerful moments?

how does weakness get through power?
is it not just weakness?

how does sunshine get through rain?
well, is it not just sunshine?

can rainy times not provide a bit of power?
is it not, still, just a little rain?

is it not, still, just a little aitch-two-oh?
do we not, still, need it to survive?

does the rain just not provide?
does the sunshine not provide, too?

do we not need both to stay alive?

again, I will ask you,
how does weakness get through power?

is it not still weakness?
is it not still power over all?
are they both not necessary?
do we not need both of them together?

maybe 'why' would be the better.

why does weakness get through power?
does it not know . . . how to be a

no, why, why does the weakness have the
ability to push its way through walls of power?
that's not possible! . . . right?

yes, how, how does the weakness have
the strength to stop the power from doing its job . . .
how does it know what to do to counteract power, at will?
is it not just weakness, still?

is it not just weakness . . . still . . .
why does weakness have the power . . . ?

yes, why does the weakness have power . . .
how does the weakness devour . . .
how can the weakness be wolfish . . .
how can the weakness over power . . .

how can the "weak" get through the "powerful" . . . I ask you . . .

1.6k · Jun 2016
lovely thought
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
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.
908 · Jun 2016
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
When I tell you you're beautiful,
I need you to believe me.

I need you to know
That I know what I'm talking about
When I say that I love
Every little nook and cranny
Of your entire being.

You must understand that
I love the way your
Hair parts on the side,
That small wrinkle in your forehead.

That is my wrinkle.
I am the cause of that wrinkle.

I love that sparkle in
Your plain brown eyes.
That cute little nose
Complemented by
Those luscious lips.

Lord, have mercy.

I could go on for
Forever and a day
Just to say the
Same resounding message.

Sweetheart, you're
More than beautiful.

You're heart-stopping.
825 · Jul 2018
broken promises
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
I may never be **** and that's fine
but you put me through a hell 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.
787 · Sep 2018
Reckless Danger
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
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.
578 · Sep 2018
the meditative state
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
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
568 · Jul 2018
addressed to: you
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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.
480 · Jun 2016
Power of Love
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
To breathe without breathing,
The dream without meaning.
Passion at its finest.
The power of love.

The power to run wild,
All the while standing still,
The warmth of a soul
In the coldest of chills,
The freedom to go
Where no one else will.
Infatuation at its finest.
The power of love.

Love can grow old,
Love can be bold,
Still love can grow cold,
Love is not pure.
Love is unsure,
Yet still so secure,
And love can endure.
The power of love.

Is love the cure to a solemn disease,
Much worse than a cold,
Ten times that of a sneeze?
Can love truly mend
The most broken of hearts
When the breaking was caused
By love from the start?
Can love take the blame
For the hurt being caused?
Are lion cubs to blame
For being born with claws?
Tis the nature of the beast,
It's hidden in its blood,
Thus, we all must possess,
The power of love.
465 · Feb 2019
stupid cupid
Carl Webb II Feb 2019
reporting love from underground,
I love you more than life, itself.

I fought the gods for your attention,
talked to Hades, asked for help.

I sold my dignity to Satan;
took some hell along the way,

and, made it back to you
by midnight . . .

I just wish I could have stayed . . .
458 · Oct 2018
Carl Webb II Oct 2018
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.
449 · Jun 2016
Seventeen Syllabic Memories
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
Speaking, you cease to exist.
But, I still feel you.
423 · Sep 2018
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
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 God
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 . . .
422 · Feb 2019
who teaches how
Carl Webb II Feb 2019
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 . . .
401 · Jun 2016
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
When the sky falls,
the stars are unbothered.
They were never part of
the sky to begin with;
they always sit too far above,
too out of reach.
Only the stars can corrupt the stars.
Only the powerful are able.
So, the powerless remain powerless.
Looking up at the stars for change,
though change will never come.
Only things higher up than the stars
can affect them.
God help us.
366 · Sep 2017
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
363 · Dec 2018
i've been here since birth
Carl Webb II Dec 2018
no longer adapting to the world
and feeling trapped inside this person.
figure me as what I am,
but what they see
is someone hurting.
silly me,
it's so discerning:
seeing me
in front of curtains.
feeling trapped inside this person.
open windows.
I am hurting.

jump my tears away.
(I'll jump my fears away)

in hopes of learning.
no love here for they
will not adhere;
will just add fear to play.
but, no place here today.
so, I just . . . mm . . .
so, I'm just here to stay . . .
358 · Feb 2018
[title pending]
Carl Webb II Feb 2018
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 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... 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 God for it is He that Hath the Heart to Heal, but, see,
I am not I...I can never be 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?
357 · Jun 2016
Ignorance Isn't Bliss
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
I have no clue of what to do
but I still choose to lace up my shoes
and pursue this journey called life.

So I start to cruise and sing the blues.

The hues too dark so they confuse you
and I will never brighten up or lighten up
my mood to protect the terrible twos of
this world.

They need the truth.

And if not from me,
and if not from you...
then who?
342 · May 2018
We End Up
Carl Webb II May 2018
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...
318 · May 2018
Carl Webb II May 2018
ray of color,
pierce my soul
and brighten up this hole.
bleed the gloom and doom
to leave more room
for hope...
315 · Aug 2018
I still believe . . .
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
in this cave, there should be a light.
the dreams got sold to eternally rest.
arise and review the same old life.
the dark to dark.
the night to night.
the mourning to mourning
the light too bright
to be in this cave . . .and out of sight . . .

despite the fright,
I still believe
that everything
will be alright . . .
280 · Apr 2016
Carl Webb II Apr 2016
Fall off the face of reality and into the depths of you,
Immediately engulfed by your greatness,
It's a long way down to the center of your soul.
Along this journey, I surpass your body, it has no use to me.
Yet I still manage to relish in the feel of your skin, it's softness, it's warmth.
It forces me to go on.
Further I fall, blindly past your *******, underneath your chest and into your heart, but no further can I go.
Blocked by a wall made of icy bricks, defaced by the graffiti of lies and deceit.
Smashing through is impossible, my attempts yield pain to us both,
but to give up and call it quits is something I cannot do.
A fiery passion burns within me,
To let it out I open up the depths of my soul,
The fire escapes,
The barrier melts,
Again I fall.
270 · Sep 2018
the key, pt. 1
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
'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 . . .
pt. 1
267 · Apr 2018
'13 reflections
Carl Webb II Apr 2018
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.
264 · Apr 2016
Carl Webb II Apr 2016
The woods aren't so bad once you get used to them.
The dirt, the trees, the living creatures around you.
At least you know you're not alone.

The wolves cry at night.
They found their next ****.
It is now dawn, twas not I.

The river runs cold at sunrise.
The wind blows steady.
Soak it all in.
Take a look around at the creation of God.
Lest not into temptation.
Else the view is turned upside down.
She doesn't seem to understand.
I hear a snake.
261 · Jul 2016
Cupid's Forest
Carl Webb II Jul 2016
Through the woods we floated hand in hand,
a cool breeze to dry up the puddles of our palms,
a night shade just dark enough to hide our amorous gazes,
though this sensation skipping through my veins
hides not my affection,
pulsing through from my body to yours,
and if it must reveal my love tale to you
I pray it bear no false witness.
I’ve fallen for you already, more than you know
and more than I’ll ever be ready to admit in words.
Lend an ear to your heart
and my beat shall be there to squander it all,
but from my lips you won’t hear a thing.
And as we are now gazing up at the stars,
the wind has hushed and the fireflies have gathered 'round,
you close your eyes and you make your wish.
From afar, hoping somehow these unexpressed expressions
are able to reach to the center of your essence,
I whisper to the wind...
249 · Apr 2016
My Dear
Carl Webb II Apr 2016
I've done dirt in the past I'm not proud of,
I do even more, now, as we speak.
But never in my life has my heart been so alive,
I thought never would it ever reach its peak.
See, now you've stormed into my life so abruptly,
Not once did you ever try to sneak.
You've turned me a mess, I pray this isn't a test,
I will fail. For without you, I am weak.
This can't be love, for I know no such thing,
My dear.
This can't be lust, I've had my share of flings.
This can't be me, I've never wanted marriage,
My dear,
But for you, all my dreams are of rings.
I hate all of what you've done to me,
My dear,
I hate what you've done to my soul.
I hate the warmth that now lies deep inside,
I long to return to the cold.
But you see,
My dear,
That's the catch of it all.
I can never return to the old.
I don't have much to give,
But I promise,
My dear,
For the rest of my life,
I am yours.
246 · Sep 2018
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
|                                                                                                   "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." |
246 · Mar 2018
Leave Nothing Out
Carl Webb II Mar 2018
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...
244 · Feb 2018
Yo, Self
Carl Webb II Feb 2018
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...
229 · Jan 2017
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 naked two eyes of all who gazed, felt by the naked bodies of those standing in the way of the cold and naked 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 naked 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.
229 · Sep 2018
the meditative state, pt. 4
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
s­tep four is breathe
and breathe as deeply
as the atmosphere allows
and let the astral air
assemble your arousal.
the meditative state
228 · Apr 2016
Carl Webb II Apr 2016
To see the world in all its glory
From every angle and every view
Is very easily said by all--
Yet, much harder to do
    because of circumstances surrounding the career that I pursue.
I must not take any chances;
Not for me, not for you.
Not for him, not for her,
    not even for God knows who.
Not even for God, himself, at times, if I must be held to truth,
    but not by choice...
    for there's a Beast that blocks the exit to my room.

I stare at it, and it looks back with eyes as cold as night.
I try to speak but where's my voice?
    --whisked away by Fright.
Now, pull yourself together, son. It's only
A matter of time before the Beast awakens once again and opens up its eyes!

But, have no fear, lay in the grass and slip into your state
    or swim some laps around Red Wine Sea; dive in Whiskey Lake and stumble away from the reality that it is all too late.
You cannot run.
You cannot hide.
Your life is now at stake.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are!'
To the beast it's all a joke.
'It'll be over in a jif', he says,
    'you won't even feel a poke!'
But I know this beast, just like myself, the jokes are how he copes.
Weakness lurks beneath its flesh,
Or at least that's what I hope and as I gaze upon the Beast I notice weakness in its throat.
Do I use the knife?
Do I use the rope?
Either one shall **** us both.
227 · Nov 2018
young rats, old rats
Carl Webb II Nov 2018
“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
226 · Aug 2018
remember each moment
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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.
226 · May 2018
Carl Webb II May 2018
I placed my self
upon this shelf
for you to understand
the life and death
that took the breath
of, yet, another witless man. . .
213 · Mar 2019
Carl Webb II Mar 2019
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.
210 · Jan 2019
Carl Webb II Jan 2019
I didn’t mean to hurt you
when I hurt myself . . .

I didn’t mean to cause you
any of this . . .
because, nobody should have to deal
with this . . .

but, can I ask you this?
have your wounds healed
cause, mine still haven’t.

I-I-I-I mean don’t get me wrong,
I do, indeed, hate that you’re hurting
but, see . . .
it’s nice to finally have someone around
who understands . . .

perhaps, that’s why I did it.
confessed all those things to you,
told you everything on my mind
knowing my mind is not one
that is meant to ALWAYS be shared
because of the damage
it is capable of doing . . .

I knew my strength,
I knew my weakness, too,
but I knew it’s strength, as well,
and I did nothing to stop it cause -

I didn’t stop it cause I love you.

no, wait, I love your presence!
I don’t really know what it means to love
a person. I love things. I’m used to things.
These things have become my home.
These things, they become my friends when I’m alone . . .

I just wish you could understand . . .
thoughts of the past
210 · Jun 2016
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
If you choose to stay
then I will love you forever.
And if you choose to leave
then I will love you forever.
And I hate to sound mean,
but there is no in between.
You must tell me, darling,
is the light red
or is it green?
198 · Jan 2019
the perfect getaway
Carl Webb II Jan 2019
hijack a spaceship . . .
yeah, that should do it . . .

that’ll get me back to where I need to be;
just go as ‘up’ as possible . . .
cause, truly, I’m from up there, not down here.

but, not like heaven, or anything just . . up THERE! like, up there . . . like, space n stuff? I’m from somewhere in “outer space”.

first, I write the goodbye letters . . .
naaahh that’ll take too long, gotta get outta here NOW. so, we skip the letters, right? yeah, I think they’ll know “goodbye” when they see it . . .
secondly, (and you would think this step would include something like, “do research on how to operate a spaceship” but, see, there’s no logic in this place so, I might as well play along, right?) just report right on over to NASA, stealthily, blending in for a bit then
BAM, step C, I’m in the spaceship. And I’m the only one in the spaceship . . . I’m pushing all types of buttons n stuff and, somehow . . . it fires up . . .

that was it;
signing off . . .
193 · Oct 2018
empty vessel
Carl Webb II Oct 2018
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 . . .
189 · Aug 2018
undying infatuation
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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.
179 · Aug 2018
glass is really a mirror
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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.
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