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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
just
the right
situation,
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.

So,
for better or for worse...
...a toll is taken.
Carl Webb II Feb 2
summertime arousal
in the bushes.

freedom sings the tongue
and freedom sings

gently in the hills
to hear the melody . . .

whisper softer,
let it sing . . .
—————————————
summertime arousal
in the ocean.

stirring waters slowly
churning deeper

yearning motion,
land, and sea together.

flowers dripping,
swinging slowly in the breeze . . .
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
"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 Jun 2018
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. . .
Carl Webb II Jan 25
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 -
- WAIT NO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND . . . !

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
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.
Carl Webb II Jan 16
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.
seeking comfort in depressed times;
yes, this is how I speak to myself, on occasion.
felt necessary.
feels like it helped.
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
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 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
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 . . .
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.
Stagnation.
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.
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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.
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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. . .
Carl Webb II Feb 19
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
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.
Carl Webb II Oct 2018
~
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

~
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
Leave me in the woods
and watch the grass
grow over my feet.
Place me on a cloud
and look at where I land.
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.
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.
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...
Carl Webb II Feb 20
it was beautiful . . .

we simply put forehead to forehead,
                         fingertip to fingertip,
                         touched toe to toe and

we accepted -

we didn’t move,
we didn’t flinch

- and we weren’t afraid
of one another.

                 (it was strange . . .)

we cared not to harm
one another.

just accepted

us, together, as one
became the object of
reality.

resting . . .

breathing . . .

never flinching;
never afraid.

we even shared
our deepest thoughts

as one
we shared our plots,
our stories and
all our characters,

the . . . protagonist
and the other and . . .

                     (it was weird . . .)

we weren’t afraid
of each other

even then,
we wished not
to harm each other.

just accepted

us, together, as one
became the new meaning
of fantasy

we shared our
wildest dreams

and laughed
and danced

and, still, firmly pressed
together we were free

(and still not afraid!)

to fall down
and get up
together . . .

we helped
one another.

we’d cry
over our bruises

together.

we accepted
everything
that made us whole

and, that, was all . . .

and, it was beautiful . . .
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.
Carl Webb II Jan 30
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.
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." |
Carl Webb II Mar 2018
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 hell
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...
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.
EKG
Carl Webb II Jun 2016
EKG
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.
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 . . .
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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 . . .
Carl Webb II Aug 2018
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 . . .
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.
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.
hue
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
hue
throughout his soul there is a blend
of monochromatic, a sort of automatic
and indefinite . . .

. . . black . . .
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
Carl Webb II Feb 16
perhaps, this smooth jazz
that’s playing sweetly in my ears
is from within

perhaps, I think,
I hear the melody
once again

I think
I hear it . . .
————————————
. . . as a rule
and as a flaw,
he used his soul
to guide the way

protected soles
in case of
beckoning calls
to search
throughout the day

and through the night
he fought off enemies
from standing
in the . . .

wait.

and through the night
he didn’t fight
he taught his enemies
to play

and through the mourn
and through the hate
they learned to love
and understand

they gained some empathy . . .
and more than that
they helped him
with his plan . . .

continued on
creating bonds
to break the norm
of common man

he heard the music
more and more . . .
——————————
I hear the melody
once again . . .
Carl Webb II Mar 30
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.
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 . . .
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 . . .
Carl Webb II Mar 3
you believe in a higher power;
I believe in the power that is.
——————————————

a yielding to a god
that is not I
is but obstruction.

hidden gems of lavish thought.

the fallacy: a call to action
for rewarding purpose only.

call to thee, a call to self.

the teaching echo

echoes teachings . . .

teachings echo,
listen closely
to the distance.

⁃ then, the whispers must be godly? -

uttered in truth.

if, only, the heavens
were on earth . . .
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?
Carl Webb II Sep 2018
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.
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
weakness?
what?

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

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 . . .

[tbc]
Carl Webb II Dec 2018
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.
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...
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

alone.

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
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?
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.
Carl Webb II Jul 2018
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 . . .
Carl Webb II May 2018
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.
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.
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