Blessed be the mess that your in. Grin, as your **** drips from your roofless inn. A den of ruthless wolves, waiting to devour your goals whole, once again.
Here's another messy poem, to slap you in the face and kick you in the beautiful shin.
Sit, spin around, and face the World leaders' selfish sins. Hidden diamonds in the rough, reflect another star, or gem.
Pin a ******* medal of honor to your chin; as countless lives drown infinite sorrows, inside a bin of whiskey, or gin.
Men, women, two halves to a whole, two halves to a soul, come together to create new life to a whole.
A beautiful mess that were in, while dreams of Peace shine yet again.
Tattered child seeds on broken streets needs a peaceful brother and peaceful friend.
Fend off Hate with Love, like a special blend, or a trend. Be the dove and trim this stem of ego, I commend.
Attend a brand new mess, adventure, journey, and quest, A messed up test for glory, don't you worry. Do your best.
I attest that beauty stands tall, in this beautiful mess that we're in, above the rest.
Nights of ****** fun, brings days of angst to an end of the bed of quarry.
A brand new legend be told, a brand new awakening, a brand new story.

A bittersweet friend is still a friend indeed.
Serve them two parts understanding and two parts love.
Mix together, with a twist of realism and see what they become.

Claim the heart that will love.
Blame the name that will hate.
Tame the soul that will rise above.
Fame the hand that will save.
A game of life so grand, never lost nor won, is fate.

Let music be your master of melody.
Let music be your key.
Let music be your teacher of tuning.
Let music be you and me.
Let music be your sensei of soothing.
Let music let you see.
Let music be your guru of groove.
Let music make you dream.
Let music be your guide to move.
Let music let you be.
Let music be your educator of expression.
Let music keep your steam.
Let music be your destroyer of depression.
Let music create your scene.
Let music be your professor of passion.
Let music pay your fee.
Let music be your tutor of truth.
Let music plant a seed.
Let music be all of these.
Let music set you free.

If there's one guy who should be banned and shunned from the ranks of society, it should be me. Thanks for agreeing with this stark reality. I'm the worst entity in my entirety. I've zero decency and no need for your sympathy. This sentient being of notoriety shattered the window of existence, screaming with just a demeaning smirk. Gleaming, flirting skirts of variety pass by the dark and ***** corners where I lurk. Just know that I hold no spark of sanity, only humanity's vanity. No silver platter or flattery I will hand about and offer thee. Nothing really matters anyway. People scatter and shout aloud in the fray. They scowl, scoff, spit, spatter, and cough in my general direction. Take a clear look in the mirror of dismay. The only truth you see is the bilateral reflection of a dramatical radical. Blessed by the heart, cursed by the mind as collateral. Below grey skies, I'll cast my line of terror into the lake of your tears. Will you bite and be bitten with lies? Will the bitter night overrun you with fears and the deer hear your cries? Not a chance. Take your stance and take heed of my arrival in the vicinity. Indeed, your survival is a mystery. Ar first glance, I'm public enemy number one and the ****-storm cloud insanely raining frightening lightening upon your fun parade every sunny, Summer-day. Romance the idea of petitions being signed with instructions. Enhanced, grammatical weapons of destruction are lined and designed by the hunter to mark me into your history books. Look at my nefariousness with shaky knees and restless soul, until this crook's reign of misfortune has plundered the toll. I am the troll controlling this area. This bridge of ignorance you roll under is where I raise mass hysteria. I'm an unleashed beast with Master status, Grade A disaster, and hunger whose here to take care of ya. Awakened from slumber, here's some flashy, hysterical, lyrical, *** full of diarrhea ******* on your hopes and dreams, now crashed and torn asunder. What number and blunder will perform next on the screen? You will forever wonder.

Green is mean? I think not.
Green is a relaxing thought. Sought to destroy hate that rots.
Green **** in a plentiful dream, ****....ahhh breathe.
Please see the benefits of green **** that helps breathe.
Health, anti-diseases, fights cancer that bleeds. You, me, and we.
Green, green, and more green.
Quite a pleasant dream. Alternative fuel, extra oxygen, peaceful scene.
****...****...****..see?
**** doesn't control you. Do you control yourself?
Green...green...and more green.
Does stupid wood and paper industries agree?
****... green... more peaceful ****.
Does alcohol suit your needs? Does **** cause violent deeds?
****...serene green...Plead to legalize ****.

Fading in and out of existence, where there is a whisper from a mistress in fish nets tempting your every interest of sanity.
Vanity lies hidden and derived from the canopy of clouded judgements.
This next sentence will bring sentiments to your every American citizen.
Brighter horizons lie ahead, much closer than your bedspread.
Sweat is dripping and ripping holes in the red stains in your wood shed.
Bled out from paint cans raining down from rotting shafts, holes in the collapsing rooftop spawns forth some terrible draft.
Crafted from the laughter of liars, shrill shouts from loud buyers, a disastrous blast of forces destroying your every desire.
Tragic floods, sweeping fires, and splitting earthquakes that destroys what you and I admire.
Worn out and expired, the flame of something higher flickers off, like a light-switch.
Goodnight.

If we Google love and hate, we would come to learn that love has WAY more results than hate does.
Above all else, love is more powerful than hate is.
Forever it always was, and forever, it will always be.

Spread love, like chemical spills in the sea. Spread love, like wildfires burn down trees. Spread love, like an ugly disease.
Spread love, like butter on wheat. Spread love, like light-giving sunbeams. Spread love, like we know what it means.
Spread love, cause it's free. Spread love, cause it's the ultimate pyramid dream.

The Spirit bomb, an astrological bond, one's soul is gone, drowning in some pond of self-reflections.
A fantastic plan, with a swift wave of your hand, storms spawned to creation and hide the life-giving sun, quite overwhelming for some.
A pair of enchanted paradise swans, fawn over the other to shine forth the calm-bringer, the sister and brother, from one father and mother, some sort of creator or another.
Flutter over nests of destruction, plotted taxed lands from some great nation of abduction.
Some ******* nut takes a crack and starts building some destroying station of war. A nurtured relation, branded straight from emancipation. Granted permission to dream, granted permission to score, a silent scream, and twisted avocation of means, to become a ******* conglomerate stone, ****** out of your love-drunk mind, well thought out, well wrote. You note the crazy schemes of some bloke, clouded and choked out on the spindle of passion that dwindles.
An ignited flame once enkindled, blossoms up from your windowsill.
Still spilling more silly meaning to life, quite the light we got, right?
Dishing out your thoughtless waste of despair, as some desperate stranger of danger casts shadowy scars on a scare. Emotionally teared, wearing a cloak of danger and destruction, beware.
Directions of  death's stare, brings you to the wrong side of the lawn.
Tested and bested, your entire fragile being grows stronger.
A glowing peace-monger brought among us, clowning and frowning on useless sorrow, working towards a brighter tomorrow.
A distraction of impaired hollows that swallow your goals whole, life sure is taking it's toll, spitting and ******* you out on some strange and foreign shore. You'll learn to keep roaring for more knowledge of ancient wisdom that's stored in tiny glass vials, evermore. Imploring spirits, swirling in a massive, abysmal void, while seeking out another vessel and droid.
Exploiting chords of beautiful music is kissed on the faces of the missed. Best wishes!
Dished out on the paper you write another poetic vision that assists the songs of hopeful travelers abroad. Setting out on adventurous travels, that unravels marvelous mysteries and beauty, enameled on bland and barren lands.  
Wishing wells and swishing swells of free-flowing rivers, amongst endless givers of calm, and grand oceans of drawn out motions, be strong.
The Spirit bomb blows off, out into the dawn of new horizons.
The Sun is rising, then gone.

This synchronicity is fantastic. Simplistic meanings of a mystical, spiritual force swarming around in your mind, quite spontaneously and spastic. I'm not one for only logistics.

Sickly drawn to only scientific facts, while you are spiritually void of anything greater, than your materialistic, non-classical fashions and plastics.

Ticking away your time-clock of tomorrow, drastic changes are being made to suit your every all-knowing, systematic antics.
Shamanistic views are destroying egotistical spews.
This sticky poem may sound gnostical, but I hope it sticks to you.

Blood ties that bind, rewind to the beginning. Roots and origins rule! Fast-forward to current day sinning.

Spinning head in hands, grinning, with new wisdom retrieved, winning! Thinning shadows in sight, white light brought to you by a sending.

Lending a handful of dreams, of skies and seas free of shipping. Bright eyes watery, nose dripping, you know what to design.

Finally, with a twist of a lime, you're subliminally inclined to create whatever flows from mind. The little hand stops on the 9.

Sit and unwind, while thoughts transcend Space and Time. Line after line, I'll write rhyme after rhyme, with no dollar or dime. No silver to deliver of mine.

Climb a ladder to find, a glowing river that shines. A free-flowing life giver, ignited with warmth, waste it not on a shiver.

Glimmers of hope for a bright future, nurture the suture that absorbs. Stored sour hate flees the wound, soon we will know the score.

Core knowledge of what is to come, we hide deep down in our drawers. Plough on right through the doors, as you appear again in the now.

How did this happen? You wonder, with sweaty towel from the brow. Trowel steamy fields of dreams for the cows.

Scowls turn to smiles, as sunbeams burst through the clouds. Loudly you stand on the ground, without a sound, you're dumbfounded.

Surrounded and astounded, with shrouded mysteries unraveled, you're overwhelmed with great valour. Empowered hour after hour, your happiness remains undevoured.

"Shower with love on the gravel, sir!" These are words of wisdom from the time traveler.

Enjoy a metaphysical state. I'll metaphorically slap you in the face with reality to date.

Update your plate with another helping of ****.

Some lie, steal, and ******; while I help, care, and create.

Feeling spaced, with your thoughts erased, as you're too scared to face the truth that takes shape.

Dig deep down to understand your fate. Separate that from FREEDOM of choice, mate!

Escape the confines of your box of a mind, and skate down that road we call LIFE you grind . It's a race.

You are all superior. Nobody's inferior. If you can relate, then great!

As you sit, stand, and crawl, your **** falls and stains a toilet larger than your shopping mall. In the stall, pull that feather from your ***.

Take your class and call a taxi, cause you are too drunk to walk; as you fly from your herd, like a bird from a flock.

Gawk, jaw drops, as the weak ones flurry in the dead of Winter. After an all-night ******, you flutter to your nest to find it in cinders.

Tripping over stones, you hurry. No cries are heard while bones splinter. Soaring hawks from darkened skies, swoop the birch winged mob.

Robbed and broken, you sob. Jobless, homeless, and hopeless you're a crushed, torn fender. Funerals and vacations are planned by the spender.

As your life's flames diminish and you think of your enkindler, I'll finish up this gift and send it to you. Please, don't return to sender.

A bond between two friends runs deep, deeper than any knife can cut through flesh.
This bond between two lovers runs deeper than any river can cut through rock.
The bond between two families runs deeper than axes that cut through trees.
That bond between two business partners runs deeper than any taxes cut through accounts.
There's a bond between two crew members, that runs deeper than any President that cuts through health benefits.
Ultimately, the bond between two halves runs deeper, than any asteroid that cuts through life.
Not because of power or wealth, but for the fact of persistence and perseverance.

Comic relief
Cosmic disbelief
Cosmetic grief
Cosmopolitan relief

I'm like the pest that won't go away. I'll crawl into your head as night fades away. Day after day your dreams seem to dwindle away.

I'll bug your infested mind, as your fiery passion fades to grey. I'll scuttle towards the rebuttal of the stubborn, ever so subtle.

As you cuddle your pillow, thinking of weeping willows, I'll scurry into your flowing hatred, bringing the sacred light of hope.

***** a manifested thought, once sought to consume. I'll plant a beautiful new plot of light, that destroys your gloom dude.

Don't be rude, cause you're down on your luck. Lose the attitude schmuck!

Even amidst all the chaos, stars are born on the rise. Let's hang our bedsheets of jealousy out to dry.
Bask in the Lunar glow of night sky. Reflected dreams shine amongst the will of the fight.
Follow the winding trails of hope, for she's always the test. Best you learn to fear stupidity, as it burns through the nest.
Surely you jest! **** the selfish gesture from heartless chest. Crested Swallows fly down to get rid of your pest.
Blessed be the people, the worst AND the best. Flourish in broad daylight and ingest the nourishment of our plight.
The night owls watch from their perch, then take off on a flight. They're wisdom may be the wisest of the avian kingdom.
Pray to your God to not give up on your way. Sway not from true freedom, these poems are the iridescent rainbow spray.
Splayed and flayed magically out for the eyes of the next child that stays. Days turn to nights, and nights into days.
You eat your Doritos and I'll eat my Lays. We'll cleverly act out our plays. Mend the space of fabric that frays.
We'll tend to bend time to our ways. These rhymes speak louder than illusive money in May.
We'll mold our creations from enkindled passion flames, shaped from warm clay.
Cows moo away and eat grass, while horses nicker and neigh.
Our actions speak louder than our poems do. Live on, cause dark turns to light, and night turns to day.

Hey! Special delivery! Raise your I-phone and flash a memory.
Smile with flash-drive to hard-drive like it's going out of style.
All the while, your patience gets cloudy and drains down your sink.
Your lack of effort is for your convenience I think.
Your food may be modified. Your mind may be freeze dried. Don't be terrified.
Try to be aware of others' ways that differ. Care as you stand stiffer to prepare and stare blankly into the face of a modern affair.
Beware, as you know where this is leading. So stop your pleading and fleeting thoughts.
Do we really know how to go on though? I guess let's see where we're at in a decade or so.

Earth is our home. Your mind has just been blown.
People, animals, and stones are WAY more important than some stupid phones.
Moans and groans yell forth to continue our whining. Dining with a lover, means more than your *******. Pop the next cork on our bottle and celebrate life.
Happiness, passion, and love is way more powerful than hatred, greed, and strife.
Our plight to survive another day and night. The negative is Death, and the positive is life. Our sight., right, and fight to save the environment and endangered wildlife.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Shoulder your burdens as we all grow older.
Weather gets hotter, and sometimes colder. Some are scared pussycats, while others are lions that grow bolder. Close your folder of selfishness, while oil pipelines spread disaster. Do you care while you waste away, as the ecosystem wastes away faster?
Litter another critter of pollution. Cleaner air is the solution. Care to find YOUR resolution? Spilling out our guts all over an institution.
Garden the seeds of change to fruition. Us, the hoes, should fight the GMOs.
Planting organic crops on fertile soil, as vines of life flourish and grow.
Blow the wind that feeds flames of bitterness, while water sweeps over, you know?
So you don't give a **** about the Earth as your self-pity glows?
Shows how stupid YOU are while the passionate stays afloat.
Fear spreads chaos, while paying it forward spreads the most.
I can go on and on with this poem, but alas, I must slow the flow.
Every day is ******* Earth day. Let's do our part. Here's my toast!

False mood enhancing pills and miscounted tills
Cracking windowsills and burning windmills
Long forgotten skills and justified kills
Overflowing landfills and spreading chemical spills
Freezing chills and oil-stained gills
Empty grills and shredded hundred dollar bills
Cheap family wills and expensive thrills
Broken Jacks and shattered Jills
All of these **** still.

I plead insanity. Insane thoughts from a corrupted society are building blocks to thousands of towers of anxiety. Their looming, toxic shadows spewing a deathly breath of pollution across the blue sky of air that we breathe. The pesticide to our seed.

All for the money we bleed, over piles of broken hearts, and shattered hopes and oily seas.

This poem may seem like just some huge hyperbole, to some half-wit ****, that thinks more money is the answer to our pleas. I hear wings of freedom span the horizon, and emblazoned with the love and dreams of freed humanity.

Will we ever hear the Phoenix's call?

Will our swelling pain ever be dulled?

Tears of sorrow rain down to the grasping hands of our flawed system.

Ego-centric maniacs crushing our noble opposition.

With open minds, souls, and hearts, love is our ammunition.

These words may seem worthless to the blind.

Flying past the gaze from your eyes.

Weary sighs from the fright. This light shines bright and I'll add a final free thought to inspire, the admiration to inquire a surge of motivation to bring ourselves even higher.

This poem unfortunately, now retires.

Give a shout of love out to Boston. Lost in translation I'll create this poem for a lost daughter or son.
A new war has been waged, well...heh heh. We've already won.
Spun out from a night of drinking wine, I'll type another line.
Killing people over selfish, religious beliefs, destroys happiness by the ton.
Are YOU ******* happy? Are YOU ******* done.
Plans to **** out weak people surely doesn't sound like fun.
Your **** stinks. No pun intended. Words on the internet should never make you offended.
Lend a helping hand for the Earth, or waste away in the dirt.
Beautiful women get slaughtered like cattle, in a dress or a skirt.
We'll have fun and we'll flirt. Still caring for others as they get swallowed by hurt.
Knowledge is power they say, so I'll take off my only shirt.
Give it to someone that needs it, so they may pay it forward to another.
My sister and brother, from another father and mother, read these words carefully, while haters turn into lovers. Hearts and minds full of love, kindness swoops down like a dove. Shove another McDonald's cheeseburger in your face and see your health drain away. Think of the animals that get slaughtered in warehouses each day.
Pray for fertile soil in April AND May. Fool YOURself into a thought that treating animals kindly isn't okay. Roam free in the grass and the hay, while slaughtering axes sweep around, sprays blood and slays. Helping each other day by day IS the new craze.
A daze of happiness turns frowns upside down with a smile and grin.
The Dropkick Murphys knows whats up.
For Boston....for Boston....for BOSTON!

The messages on the pavement YOU don't care to read,
the hidden truths YOU don't dig to see,
the careless lives YOU lead,
the empty promises YOU plead,
the self-righteousness YOU exceed,
will lead YOU down a selfish road to nowhere.
This is YOUR fight, light, plight, right, and sight.
ENLIGHT, and goodnight.

Having loved and lived more than many, you're one that has feared and toiled in the garden of life. This garden that is now untended, dried, and withered; a vast wasteland, littered with cigarette butts, broken beer bottles, used condoms, and bullet casings. Those seeds of ruin are sowed by your very own callous hands of destruction. Once, golden opportunities and golden showers were warm and comforting, till you realized you were being ****** on by weak hearts and failing bladders. An ongoing stream of liquored up nights, self-loathing heathens, and rotten misanthropes now have you bowing to the porcelain gods beside a freshly dug grave, fit for your honor. One more shot is what you want, finely driving that final nail into your coffin of a liver. Feeling flushed and torn, nobody will be bringing you flowers, you wilted oaf.  A half-eaten vegetable, you are. Left with nothing more than skin and bone,  there's a sign that sustenance has not been a friend of indulgence.

Hey Grandma, take my hand and let's go for a walk. I have dreaded the day would come where we could no longer talk of childhood mischief and such; running amok. Much love for the bird who has now left her flock. Time has run out for you on the face of my clock. Dear Grandma, remember when we played Bingo and word games all day. We sat sipping cocoa and watched Thanksgiving Day parades. If you were here, you would see I stand blinded with reflections of you made in the passing of tears on my face.Long after the years of days that I played outside in the rain. No Grandma, these memories will never fade away. I'll miss your loving embrace. Yes Grandma, I'll always strive to be better. That guy who is brave and a real go-getter. Lately, I've felt a little under the weather. The mind is cold, foggy, and not so clever.
A bit logic-impaired, but the bond that we shared will never be severed. After all, we're just birds of a feather. Beloved Grandma, with this poem I'll plant with a kiss. For without you I would surely not even exist. You'll watch over my heart and always be missed. If you see Grandpa, tell him you both will forever be remembered.

Some think of me as an iconic idiot.
Therefore, I am.
Others think of me as a gentleman and a scholar.
Therefore, I am.
There are those that think of me as a pervert and a fool.
Therefore, I am.
Various people think of me as the big bad wolf out to terrorize the sheeple.  
Therefore, I am.
A myriad of folk think of me as always willing to lend a helping hand.  
Therefore, I am.
Many think of me as just that guy that loves pretty much everything.  
Therefore, I am just that guy.
Roll all this up into one big ball and you get a human being.
I am.

I got the spoon of doom that I"ll smack you in the face with. **** pig, I ****** you up. You need a facelift.

Drift into another lane, cause I'm wasted. You can **** on my metaphorical sausage. Taste it!

Take that stick out of your *** and embrace it lass.

I'll smoke grass and drive like glass with expired tags. I'll snap an I-phone from my dashboard, to your face, while you crash. Score!

My dashing face will smile, all the while your life is flashing. Smashing!

No biggie. Take that piggy!

Like a Trickster born to create ****; I got another creation for you.
I got this super mood, cause I'm a super cool dude. So many thoughts come to light, I may seem rude and askew.
I'll drop them off on the block waiting for chopping axes, increased taxes, ***** looks, and misplaced faxes.
Take your classes and learn lessons to never remain uninterested. A sparrow flew by after invested lunch one day, to tell me to take action.
Cast your judgmental glances back onto your own ***** and through self-reflecting glasses, you can see a whole new world different from lost passions, stock-market crashes, Uncle Sam's miss-guided pets, and lost rations.
Blast a meta-physical thought through your head with the metaphorical gun. I'd even shout these words out to you from some hill under the sun. Misty-eyed, stunned, and glum, i'm dumbfounded. Your soul full of refracted hate bends light onto some other *******.
Australia has the right idea to use the sun. Have fun, as North Korea tries to blow it up and start a 3rd world war son.
Bang the beat of your ****** war drum, while I sit peaceful and smile. I'll spread love onto the face of a lost mother or child.
With wild courage and crafty style, I'll continue to create poems that astound you, minute after minute, and mile after mile.
Even spun out. I'll present helpful gifts free of charge and just for fun, I'll never give up like some fear on the run.
Stunned and shunned by some nuns with no fun, that shove religion down your throat that destroys imagination by the ton.
I'm even that ******* that likes his hot dog with ketchup AND mustard on the bun.
With common-sense to smash stupidity one-by-one, you sit self absorbed. Open your minds, for there's a whole new world to explore.
Courage, passion, hope, love, and wisdom will be brought back to you I'm sure. Stir the *** that calls the kettle black.
Jack and Jill can help each other flourish? You be the master. Don't look to the sheeple on your left and right for the answer.
I'll continue to spit these poems out on you, like some impending disaster. Many times, have I met the swindler and the shafter.
After a time to reflect, words flow out faster, spilling out new meanings and inspiring new light flashers.
Spend a thousand cashers at your local JEWelry store like it tells you what love means.
I'll take the metaphorical birch-wood bat and metaphorically make the next crime scene.
Lean over for a kiss as I whisper a dream. The people unite in some shallow grave of insight. Put that up on your big screen.
Hollywood creates action and constructs the next pyramid scheme. What if I were to tell you that new energy was sought?
Great archaeological pyramids once thought to be some tombs long ago, carefully built all over the Earth, they're also new sources of energy bro. Utilize this power for good on the soil, instead of destroying entire civilizations, wildlife, and health for oil.
In due time, I'll send sublime rhymes that turn tides and move fibers that coil. These are poetic visions and dreams that unfoil.
I'll continue to annoy the **** out of the dew of the rude. On wet grass, if the shoe fits, fling it. If this poem speaks to you, sing it.
With this final line, I'll let out a sigh and wing it. I'm just that guy. Come and bring it!

Universe, tell me if my heart is not in the right place. To the right, I see nothing but darkness, hatred and despair. To the left, I see light, love, and freedom. Seems to me that I've traversed both, far and wide.

Streets of shattered hopes and dreams where the woeful child lays and stares wistfully at a tattered photograph of his parents, who were killed in a drunk driving accident, paints a morbid scene. Foreboding Cumulonimbus clouds lurk on the horizon. Gunshots, screams, and sirens seem to be the soundtrack emanating from billboard signs. Another deal gone sour, another price to pay and blood is the answer?
Revenge
Hate
Regret
Greed
Pride
All these I have felt inside.
Universe, tell me this is not the way.

Fields of alluring gardens where the virtuous man toils, not one cloud hangs about, not even streaks of Cirrus to be seen. Sunbeam-smiles and happy helping hands weave together a different, joyful dream. Scents of lavender, lilies of the field, and lilacs caress the nostrils of laughing children flying their hope-woven kites. The meek and elderly's presence being acknowledged by the passing stranger's good graces is currently being filmed on reality's big screen down by Lover's Lake.
Empathy
Love
Passion
Joy
Harmony
All these I have felt, too.
Universe, this is surely where I belong.

Universe, this is the song that needs sung.
Universe, I knew you were with me all along.
Universe, I'll breathe you into lung until my work here is done.

There's no rest for the wicked. The plot thickens. The blood thins, then bleeds out onto the thorny thickets biting at bare shins, which sickens you to death times ten. Now you're feeling like a tiger in human skin. You begin setting off on the prowl for substance and the meaning of your life akin to the World's splendor. It's sustenance revealed to your awoken third eye of insight. The mind's eye of you and me, sees bountiful trees breathing and leaning towards your sweeping winds of change. Swaying towards every gaze, starstruck and amazed, chasing the dreams of completing this crazy maze of madness. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears that lubricate the gears that moves giant machines for years to come. May they be for peace, safety, and fun. Genes of the spirals behind our tattered, denim jeans holds molecular machines within us. Tiny gears set into motion, creating particular love potions, pouring out into vast oceans of debris floating in currents aligned. Strive for hopes and meanings sublime. Finely layered lines of poetry shine out from the beating hearts of timely martyrs chiming, rhyming, and climbing up the never-ending step ladder of the divinely. Ascension from the tension of the rotting vine of hatred, did I mention the sign of sacred love, which swoops down from above? The dove from it's perch of light, stares directly into your sight. Bright, dazzling displays amaze you more by the day.
Chasing and facing the challenges of anxiety, stress, and worry, obstructions of a 10 story building crumbling down all around you. Dust-bellowing clouds to choke and blindly block your steps around the destruction. Using torn limbs as ****** crutches, stumbling amongst dozens of slain wretches. Bets are placed for survival of the quickest and fittest. The wittiest guy you know is fastidious as the insidious destroyers of tomorrow.
This poem I borrowed from my soul and mind. The lines have spilled out onto shining paper reflecting the light from the mind's eye. All these meaningless rhymes will move tides that waves to you goodbye.

Tides of blue builds strength anew and then sweeps over you.
Be that guy, who looks up at blue sky and never wishes to die.
Forests of green exhales an environmental scene, of wildlife to dream.
Green herbal winds brings forth healing gusts of grins.
Brown crags of Earth, gives birth to gratuitous life from the dirt.
Our ****'s even brown, which fertilizes the ground, but don't let crown and gown drown you in a sorrowful sound.
Red embers of passion ignite in bright fashion, which flames brings us warmth, love, and passion.
Blood that runs through us is red and blue too, and we all have life till we're dead.
Yellow sands of time hides hidden meanings sublime, but holds deep truths we can dig for.
Sunshine makes us ******* happy, so let this colorful poem shine through to your soul.
Black can symbolize past-strife, night-life, even creation of life right?
Dark could create that spark that starts hearts, right Darth Vader?
White, dang, we've always thought this to be lame, but who's the one to blame?
The light makes you flourish, but adore it and don't hoard it, so does this poem make sense Florence?

A chestnut falls from a chestnut tree. It falls onto the chest or knee of the free.

Please, awaken to the sight for sore eyes. Sounds nice! Beautiful chesty women all around in the night.

Quite the light we got lit for our cigarette. Yet, the Winchester's barrel, bangs a different drum-set.
Best we forget the fright.

Master the art of illusions. Assuming delusions that give birth to contusions.

So, this poem is cheesy, cause Chester the Cheetah thinks so? Do YOU know?

Blow it.

We may not be able to help everybody, but we will help somebody.
We may not require everything, but we will require something.
We may not know everyone, but we will know someone.
We may not hold all truths, but we will hold some truth.
We may not carry all weight, but we will carry some weight.
We may not understand life, but we will understand some life.
We may not communicate to all, but we will communicate to some.
We may not possess all the answers, but we will possess some answers.
We may not utilize all power, but we will utilize some power.
We may not inspire all of the people, but we will inspire some of the people.
We may not listen to all music, but we will listen to some music.
We may not all come to terms with reality, but we will come to terms with some reality.

Journey across the shattered glass, once the window of a soul entrapment.
Clear, blue skies, twice clouded past; face downward towards the sun-swept pavement.
Carry on, but not too fast, amidst the scars of enslavement.
Let go of shadow's mask, light will cast upon heart's encampment.
Truth be told, quite the task, sets the scene of love's enchantment.
A bitter one, yet better three; heart, mind, and spirit free.

It's raining. It's pouring. Here's another poem for your exploring. I implore you stop snoring and ignoring the resonant glow of morning.
Touring forgotten graveyards should never shed tears of mourning. Celebrating life, while others die, isn't scorning.
Happiness and love that you're storing, sheds bright light on the adoring. Painful funerals seem quite the time, that sounds boring.
Bringing respectful flowers of purple and golden hues equals scoring. Harnessing the power of the Sun is more powerful, than the pedal of the Hummer that you're flooring. The glum guns over soldiers' shoulders fire heart-warming bullets into the sky.
Past souls still swarming, adorning their tears of sadness that rains down to the ground in the light.
Your fear and doubt, swimming around, will swallow you into lost depths for the drowning.
Sprouting up new life from the mound sounds astounding. Crowning new Queens and Kings for selfish deeds, indeed are alarming.
Memories of noble families are founding truths for crowning and gowning. Wealth to weaken poverty, for the pounding.
Quit the clowning, as the pied pipers at dawn wield magical flutes that wipes off frowning faces.
Amounting to the sorrowful pain, gained from the Earth, go wash your dirt, hurt, and pain away in the rain.

A blast from some dark past sounds quite murky. Swampy shallows we shallowly swim in, like ***, my brand new $2000 dress just got *****. Spend another $1000 on a trendy fashion, or 30. This poem sounds funny, but your selfish ******* sounds quirky.
A little birdie flew by and chirped for me to share the mashed potatoes AND the turkey.
Good advice guy! Once bitten, twice shy they say. Oh my! Nice try.
I'll look up at the sky and wish to live and not die. Wallow in YOUR misery and fry, the fish for YOUR mind.
Blame YOUR ****-ups on the World while millions perish in the night. **** YOUR fright.
Let's fight the good fight, while we step out of the dark, and into the light. Sounds tight!
You ***** and complain, while others are tortured in blind sight. You only focus on your muscles and might.
I'll focus on my mind, cause I'm right. Here's a cigarette, need a light? Pay it forward, while the Sun is still bright.
Might I inquire to en-light a lost flame? Take your baggage and keep walking, cause WE are all the ******* to blame.
This lion will never be tamed. **** over greedy people and feel shamed. I'll switch my face and my name and wash the past away in the rain. Pain makes you stronger. Never let your patience escape down the sink, or the drain.
Refrain from the wall that reflects sunshine from the stain. I hope this poem speaks to your brain, like ancient wisdom to lost claims.
Insane in the membrane, feelings are brought out in the day. Saying what's on your mind should not be thought lame.
I'm Dave and let's pay it forward and be brave.

Tripping....
Dripping water....
Shipping daughters across seas to different fathers....
Flipping dollars into gardens of scholars.....
Gripping flowers in full bloom...
Clipping hair under full moon in summer....
Sipping milk and honey from the stream of life that's dying.....******...

Thorough I fall in gravity's stall. My jaw unhinges during the opening of my mouth, spewing out silent, unspoken words of unimportance. Blah, blah, blah, I keep wandering about, unheard, unwanted, and unaware of your *******. Stupidity for the all-knowing and self-righteous minions, may their force not be with me. I speak with crow medicine, better than prescriptions. I feel with emotion. I listen with soul. I think with mind. I love with heart and convictions.

Prepare for an oncoming storm of creation.

Feeling elated, let's build some relation.

I'll spill words and images out on you for inspiration.

All automated, driven by some cosmic force beyond our space station.

Greatness is achieved from within one's spirit. Let this sweep the nation.

A nomadic soul blows carelessly in the wind. Winding down an untrodden path, he creates a new way for a friend. Patience again and again, will be the factor that lends, the helping hand to lost whims. Flimsy ghosts in the wind, sing freedom songs to no end. Mend a broken heart to be tended. Send a lost letter to be commended. On you travel, unrelented. Spend a moment to be splendid. Not confused to be offended. Pending goals to be achieved, you're relieved there are more answers conceived. Hidden truths be believed,  and perceive a message indeed. Seed the plant to feed the steed. Need not selfishness and greed, to enjoy the aroma of ****. Knead a knot in in your back and take a **** and relax. Tack kind words to a fax, that slips on through the small cracks. Jack and Jill with strong backs, keep traveling on down the tracks.

If only I had freedom for every bird
a right for every wrong
a first for every third
a voice for every song
a guitar for every pick
a reason for every rhyme
a solution for every problem that needs fixed
a time for every clock that's broken
a blender for every heart in the mix
a game for every token
a laugh for every joke
an audience for every word spoken
a high for every low
speech for every interaction
fire for every ****
a Princess Peach for every Mario
a reaction for every action
gain for all that's lacking
a smile for every pain
a cat for every dog barking
if only I had this for that

Call me the greatest adventure of Indiana Jones.
Call me the Graeters of tasty ice cream cones.
Call me the Ed Rosenthal of relaxing stones.
Call me the Natasha Trethewey of meaningful poems.
Call me the Pauly Shore of Bio-Domes.
Call me the Jack Hannah of Columbus Zoos.
Call me the Martha Stewart of delicious stews.
Call me the Bob Ross of independent creations.
Call me the Dr. Phil of mending relations.
Call me the Albert Einstein of mathematical equations.
Call me the Captain Kirk of Space exploration.
Call me the William Shatner of monotone greatness.
Call me the Jim Morrison of open doors.
Call me the Mr. Clean of shiny floors.
Call me the Hugh Hefner of stupid ******.
Call me the Bob Dylan of traveling trains.
Call me the Samuel L. Jackson of snakes and planes.
Call me the Arm & Hammer of tough stains.
Call me the Blade of a vampire.
Call me the Froto Baggins of the Shire.
Call me the Firestone of a pumped tire.
Call me a Christ of ignited passion.
Call me a Lucifer of trendy fashion.
Call me a Shiva of shattered illusions.
Call me a Buddha of peaceful institutions.
Call me the Ron Jeremy of KY Jelly.
Call me the Emeril Legassi of food for the belly.
Call me the Tupac Shakur of spitting ****.
Call me the Eminem of full sentences.
Call me the Smoky the Bear of a campfire.
Call me the Jim Carry of Liar Liar.
Call me the That Guy of desire.
You can even call me an *******

A blithering fool I am. I bring some more tasty, poetic food to a full table of empty people again.
The smell of decay is swept over, with a savory draft of nauseous meat.
Close that fluttering trap, sit the **** down and warm your seat.
Here's a bottle of whines for your *******. Eat, meet and greet, and please, this Filet Mignon is too tough for my teeth.
Seething in impatient anger, Lisa demands another plate. Complacent waitress Marie patiently escapes the bubble of her "high class" greed. She then tells the cook for another steak, medium-well please! Geez, what a smile planted on her face, while she comes out to face the *****, condescending looks of a rich, shrewd couple that doubles a shroud of negativity, which makes poor Marie's day an even more stressful activity.
A chest full of kindness she displays to great lengths, but the couples' stuck-up, ******-up attitudes stinks worse than a pig pen in May. Paul and Lisa brings **** to everyone's fun parades. The stakes are high, while the next course swings by. Bring us some cookies, brownies, and ice-cream cones pronto! Not a smile, but smirk, as she rushes to grant the picky requests from rude folks. She looks dazzling, even amongst the mess. Then she trips and falls, hurling a tray of glasses. A swirling disaster, shards of glass spray everywhere amongst the upper-class masters. A blast of laughter erupts from Paul and Lisa's direction. Sitting smug, they look the happiest they've been in months. Quite the ugly reflections, marriage fights, and failed Republican elections. Careless customers rush by and look down dirtily upon her inspection. They just continue on their way to their seats of self-destruction. Waitress Marie brings herself to her knees, no helpful hands to her silent pleas. Co-workers agree that this couple is a messy infection. Marie finally stands and rushes to a bathroom to medicate her bleeding arm. Her charm dwindling away, as a swarm of classy critters, with dresses that glitters, shove her out of their important way. Feeling dismayed, she wraps up her ****** display. Great, she awaits the end to this hellish day. Amazed, her courage to carry on this shift of the shattered positive arrays is swift. She gracefully drifts out and back to her table of dreams. Amidst two faces of schemes, Paul and Lisa want their checks, with upset eyes that traces the lines on her worried forehead. A smile brings light back to her face of beauty, the couple continue to be snooty, making rude comments on her round *****. Marie rushes to get their expensive checks, and comes back with pen and paper. She gently begins to lay them down on the table, but instead, they're snatched from her grasp. Taken by surprise, she gasps. Her hands clasped, she smiles thinly at half mast. She says she hopes they enjoyed their meal, but they just laugh, leave their seats, and storm on past her in a flash. The waitress looks down at the checks, inspects, and feeling dread from within, as no tip lines we're filled in. Brimming with fury, she blinks away her frustration.
She then decides to go clean her station. As the night comes to a close, I'll finish up this crazy poem. Here's some food for thought to swallow. Be careful not to choke.
I hope this satisfies you, so wish Marie luck, for a brighter tomorrow.

I'm well aware of your existence, orange-skinned fitness aliens.
You mask yourselves with the power of cosmetic force.
Tanning beds are your temples and Snooki is your Goddess.
Say goodbye to your ******* self of natural beauty. For you now have a shiny, new, orange-colored meat-coat that people can admire and laugh at you about. Congratulations, the Sun is now useless in your eyes.
Welcome, UV-A exposure. Goodbye, UV-B exposure. They never bothered to know you and for that, the Sun is jealous of your own insecurity. While chemicals are seeping into the very core of your being, others can't wait to hop onto your fashion train and bed of self-proclaimed beauty. Bravo! I'd give you a pat on the back, but you might scream and my hand might start glowing orange. Others are a nice white, bronze, brown, black, red, but not you. You're on a whole other level of society. Maybe you are an Oompa Loompa created by ***** Wonka.
I think you have separated yourself from the rest of humanity and created your own race of beings. If that's so, than this poem has made me out to be a "racist" *******, but alas, I must digress.
Hey now, the Metro Fitness competition is calling your name. You orange people, go forth, with your brawn and beauty. Your bulging triceps and rippling deltoids have sprayed sardonic smiles onto our faces, much like some of your spray-on tans.
Some of our hearts may be touched, but your pride is intangible.