I begin these words as confirmation
That I have poetry at my side,
To out words into stone, these vast gestures
Of words covering worlds;

And suddenly in this verse a great
Sorrow overtakes me, everything abandons.
I have words but nothing else,
Not even the paranoia of someone watching,
The pen takes over like some cursed one
Taking control of my poem,
The words of the pain inside well up
Like some volcano about to spurt Suns,
What I am about to say is the very
Most personal sadness I carry,
The abyss takes control, I am a blind poet....

Wait, I must breathe,
Close my eyes until hope returns,
The words juggle between the
Light and the darkness,
Waves of emotions sputtering about
Like a boat fighting the whirlpool,
The weight of the words
Like a world on my shoulders.....

        Wait,
There is nothing to write,
Only my pain, just pain in the nothingness,
My dear friend was "Alone With Everybody",
I see now the writing is the same,
Pain and nothingness vs. light and everything else,
These broken words fighting with
Angels and demons, what do they say
But nothing, but everything,

And I write it all anyway,
I am chained to the pen,
All night I want to write something wonderful,
But the Abyss speaks itself when
No one wants to admit it is there,
So now that it is written,
The sun has come up
Hope has returned,
I want to drift into this life full,
Nothing lights the abyss,
Too deep it is to fill,
But the words bridge the pain
To better days.

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

People writing songs
That voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools, " said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
And the words that it was forming

And the sign said,
"The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whispered in the sound of silence

You are the puppet master
My heart,
On your strings
And in the darkest echoes,
The silence of my heart, rings
There is no more beating,
You've drown it, in black ink
All I can do is watch
The waves that cover, as it sinks

Be a Life changer, not a death maker, speak life into others.
Bring healing into others lives by speaking it into their lives.
For we were all put on this earth, by the Living God Jesus.
To speak life into other people lives here on the earth.
Because by speaking life, we are drawing them to be healed.
For we are called to Love others, not hate them here.
For being Christ like here we shall reveal him to others.
Which is our purpose here to love others into finding him.
Thus having another friend , when we all go to heaven in the end.

Luminous fallen child,
       Your star exploded.
The sublimation of youth
      Discarded in the dizzy geometry,
Like fireflies in a city
      Against the anonymous streets.
Home is where the heart is,
      Blood of cement and gravel.
Child, phosphorescent angel,
      Your light is a poor full moon.

all the things that a mother does
a loving touch, a hand that heals
I wouldn't know what that is like
I wouldn't know how that feels

she is just another stranger
though, the vessel of my birth
she never did what a mother does
though, she put me on this earth

I felt a bond when I was young
but that bond faded away
these words only burn my tongue
"happy mother's day"

I have been
nothing before
and while I prefer
to be something
to you
zero
is a perfect circle
the beginning
the end
one seamless strand
made whole

. another jacket .
Posted on May 21, 2016

i bought the jacket on tuesday
wore it on wednesday to work.

a retail outlet we likes to look
smart and proper mostly. wore
boots as it was cooler. i thought

it was blue, the girl said purple.

we all see things different.

sbm.

There is no light,
In this dim earth.
I'm six feet under,
Breathing dirt.
No need to fight.
For what it's worth,
I'm comfortable,
I am a worm.

Yet I squirm,
Vulnerable
When unearthed.
I burn, in a world
I never got to know.
I writhe, with no control.
I yearn, for a hole.
I am a worm.
I belong in the dirt.

-SLuR