The only thing
that is more important
than learning from History
is making History.

Slide to unlock you command
I do so with a sleight of hand
Enter passcode you demand
I press four digits, and up pops your brand.

I check my apps, play some games,
Update, mail, and Facebook old names
Shuffle my music, delete and reply
All the while asking myself "why?"

I'm a consumer gone mad.
The world turns and I'm sad
People die every day, in such horrific ways,
Yet I slide and unlock, and do as commanded.

After all I'm a human re-branded.

what is happening
all those centuries of the mutual;
ask a Bee
to tell about the short changing bi-ped

I wont sit in the corner and cry, I'm not going to fear to lose something that never was and never had. Been surrounded by alayer of ice blackness. Shattered that ice to find the new light waiting for me down the path I chose, dare I have trouble not to head back down your twisted path as I know what lies ahead. Looking for the comfort of you but know I can not have. I know I should save my breath but I have trouble doing so.

Funny how self-
Sacrifice is such an
Alien concept to
Some.

I'd rather break your
Heart and both your
Legs, than one of
My nails.

Suppose we're all
Raised one
Way, or
Not. At all.

It could Satan's cohorts cause, what portly
Political figures earn, to forsake his camp
And anon join the fray to the fat fiscal treasury
Of the country squander; and that to a cramp.
The pay plus pecks in a year they receive
Will most citizens in their lifetime never sniff.

So some who covet crazily such a mega-cheque
Also seek the same office for the easy favours.
Since our paunchy purse will at their own beck
And call be, they thus make elections endeavours
A  dagger thing;--that if they cannot God's gross
Gold get, they must anyhow have the devil's dross.

Yesterday
Was but a day
Where mistakes were made,
But that cant be changed.
As time has now passed
What is done is a choice
Not to repeat,
For whats is done is done,
There is no going back to *yesterday

I pray to thee from the altar near eternity
Let me be a disciple at the shrine
Knowledge which eludes the whole world
From here there is no turning back
All the truth resides here  
Now that everything loses relevance
Beyond the grip of time and seasons
No fear of losing and gaining
Only to acquire the knowledge of eternal truth
Here, I shall plunge into the entirety of Universe

What does he know about hearts?
He's a smart boy,
a genius perhaps.
Stanford taught
and although that seems impressive
it only scratches the surface of his résumé.

What do I know about art?
I can paint meaning onto anything
that could be better described as feeling
or intuition.

And although he knows all the parts
of the heart
and how to properly knot vessels,
does he know the thrum and the ache of it all
willing it to stop beating?

But yes, yes he does
He knows a lot about hearts.
And me?
Not so much of art as I should.
But one thing I do have in common with that boy,
I learned everything that I could.