Do you think God can control the waterfall?
Can he stop it from rolling over that cliff and shattering into millions of pieces on the rocks below?
Everything's moving so fast
That push it needed
Can't be taken back

But then again God created the waterfall
I didn't create this
Maybe that means I have even less of control

God didn't create factories
Plastic

God is blissful
Possibly because he doesn't try to control the dying nebulas
He could do it
He just doesn't feel the need to
For some reason
The tsunamis crashed
They just had to
It had it's reasons
Or He did
Anyway

Maybe I could be blissful
Just let go
My heart tells me
And I want to
I resent every having grabbed it

Mother, Father
Why am I whipped
I can't lose anymore blood
I won't
I refuse to anymore
If I let you
I won't survive
And I'll hate you for it
Why do you want me to inherit your scars?

I didn't start it
It's not my fault
I tried
I really did
You never did, though
I won't ever feel guilty for that again
You brought this upon yourselves
But that wasn't enough
You felt that we should lose ourselves too

The ship's sinking
I'm leaving
Don't ever doubt that I would give my life for you
But what good would it be if you plan to set the house on fire, anyway?

I love you
Both
I'll miss you
But the sun's up there
Above the trees
I might even have to go scale the mountains
Head straight to the ocean
Someone else will probably be heading the same way too
I'll ask her to come with me
She'll say yes
When we get there
We'll wait for you

I'll tell her about both of you
The house where I lived
My heights are marked along the doorframe
My teeth lost in jars, somewhere
Our smiles caught on film
One day if we ever find it
I'll show them to her

The path we long ago made from the forest
Hasn't been crossed in years
The dust and dirt that formed it
Have been grown over by grass

I talked to the bears
You'll pass peacefully

The monkeys
Will show you the way

The wolves
They'll take you food for the long journey

They tell me there's nothing out of the usual with the forest
No one coming this way
It's a shame
I miss the both of you

Her and I
We're building our own family
We gave them unused names
They deserve to be themselves

We talk about you quite a bit
I even tell them stories, somtimes

In the morning
We eat
At noon
We swim
In the afternoon
We walk down the beach
And in the evening
We eat again and play hide-and-go-seek
Then we put them to bed
And me and her walk down the beach
It's beautiful, I wish you could see it
There's one point where the water's still
And the moon reflects perfectly on it
Then we go back
We fall asleep

And we happen to wake up
Usually when the sun's rising
The way the sky is yellow
It reminds me of you waking me up
Mother

And at times
When we go to bed
Early
The sun'll be setting
And the way the sky is a bit purple
It reminds me of you putting me into bed
Father

The other day I was thinking about why I liked both of them so much
And I figured I'd write it down
Then, if you ever got here someday
I'd remember to show you what makes me cry
It's something only she knows about

Don't worry
Though
I'll see you soon
Someday

Don't listen to me, I'm a copy too
I'm nothing that should be considered original
I'm nothing worth building a statue over
I'm nothing that can't be replaced
If I get hit by a bus
Just pull someone else of the street
Put them in my clothes
You'll hardly notice the difference
I think my parents will like someone they won't have to feel guilty towards
They ******* me up
They know it, too
My brother'll like someone that's not trying to put him down all the time
I'm still in the process of ******* him up
He knows it, too
You could all just throw my dead, stinking, toxic body in the back
Feed me to the dogs

Let's mosey in the other extreme, let's say I'm unique
Or you are
They won't let us be different
If the commonwealth start listening
They'll **** us
Out of fear
What else they can do?
If we threaten them with consciousness among the masses
We got to go
It's nothing personal
I'll never have a Swan Song day
I'll never have a woman that I love
I'll never get to die peaceful in bed
I won't get to see the kids I never had grow up
But I'll have the benefit of having the memory of a fresh life

Doesn't sound like we have much of a choice, does it?
Conform, jump through the hoops, sell our soul, give yourself up
Or you live your life not giving in
And they decide you can't stick around
You're given the people funny ideas
I'm sure they'll **** you or me
If we're too free
They already got rid of Bobby, John and Martin
I guess that's why Jerome went into hiding
He gave too much hope and courage to people

You can either rot from the inside
Or you die young
Because, maybe one way or another they get you

I like to believe they don't though

Imagine this, as you lay bleeding from the three holes in your chest
With that last word of hope or love or divinity or whatever you want to call it on your lips
You sit and you think
It was all worth it
I don't regret anything
Because
Unlike them
I can still taste her lips
Unlike them
I can still hear the music
Unlike them
I can still see the endless fields of rye, the forests, the amazons, the rivers, the mountains
Unlike them
My eyes still smile
Unlike them
I laugh
Unlike them
I dance to my own music

And as the blood that retains it's anima leaves my veins
I smile
Because I'm not like them
And I realize
So I'm grateful
And I notice
All the little scared people look so cute in their mislead, unshaped, self-righteous indignation

Bought out to the middle of nowhere and sent flying somewhere on some sort of shot, darted, pasted and sold, subterranean homesick rocket.  Dylan didn’t approve, so he sent me the other way and I ran into a block of hammers or a hammer of blocks, either way it doesn’t matter.  What does matter is that nothing matters.  And the sound of nothing mattering is what makes everything matter.  It’s what make the silences in between the edges of the bed so silent and so pure and so daring and caressing.  That’s why I can say what I can say.  Or at least that’s what I think it is, it could be a million things, of that I’m sure.  But if I believe in no definite, how can I be sure of that?  I can not even say that I know nothing.  Because saying I know nothing, means I know something.  And stating that as a definite.  Maybe that’s the point.  Maybe I know everything.  And everything I have seen is everything.  And nothing is more.  But that’s too simple.  It’s too anachronistic, it’s too cynical, too pessimistic and too run of the mill.  Easier to be a clever pessimist than anything else.  And that’s why the sunset I see only exists through the curtain, through the window, over the trees, sparkling the mountains.  Until the fire consumes and the curtains and the windows call for me to send them to an existence of sharp grains, and that’s all there is.  The idea of me becoming sunshine. Until it consumes me.  Until I become sunshine.

I wish I could run to end of the cosmos
Just reach the reluctant intellectuals
Just so I could catch a glimpse of them ducking out of the limelight
I wouldn’t bother asking them
It wouldn’t do any good
They wouldn’t have much to say
They’d be a bit focused sticking to their morals
And criticizing the museums
Tell them to open up just a little bit
So that way everyone could rush in
Empty canvas in hand
Or typewriters
Or a marble slab waiting for them
They’d rush in
Bringing a beautiful fire to everything else
Explaining themselves to Matisse and Greco
Mona Lisa and Caravaggio would understand though
At least I think so
Van Gogh laughing in utter delight
The fire would burn all the glitz and convention
But all the passion
Emotion
Angst
Uncontemplated beauty would shine brighter than ever before

Some observers would go insane
Climbing up to the top of skyscrapers
Jumping off
Screaming, on their way down
DUCHAMP
Conning the police out of their guns
Putting it to their head
Walking into the middle of the street
Welcoming the buses with open arms
And I know you want to save those people
But it’s not up to you
We’ll see them again someday
Hopefully they’ll understand it then

Don’t cry for them, though
Look at all the others
Running through the streets
Naked
Without shame
Greeting their friends from so many years ago
As they stand in front of Rothko and he looks into both of their eyes
And they stare back trying to let themselves be encircled
With smiles
That shine like halos
As they look at their sisters
Without lust
And with compassion
While they express their enthusiasm for jazz
And sing as loud as trumpets
Dancing as fast as a piano

I’m finished crying for the dinosaurs
Or feeling guilty for Christ

I jump into the smile of the moon
I spread my arms wide open in front of the sun
Just to let him know that he’s welcome

What would've happened that day, if I would've asked you to come with me?
Was that all it would've taken?
Was that all that you wanted?

Would you have taken my hand and jumped onto the shells of those turtles with me?
Would you have smiled?
Letting me know that was the question you for so long wanted to hear?
Is what's fantasy for me, reality for you?
Are our wants the same?
Our dreams identical?

Do you imagine the times we could have?
Moments that never happened?
Kisses we've never shared?
Embraces with prominent absences?
Love we've never made?

Do you play with your hair, as I bite my nails?
Do your smiles mean the same thing to me as mine mean to you?
Are we laughing for the same reason?
Out of ecstasy?
Anxiety?
Excitement?
Do we flow in each other, like water?

I reveal everything I feel to you
And I will never mind that
To you
I can be naked
No aprovecharas

You feel my heart
Let me feel yours

Adding moon and sunlight to the entire composition of something grandiose
Bigger than its old self
Failing to a find a light in myself
Is like finding fault in God’s work
And considering it completely void
Never believing in the all-powerful song-laced universe that within itself
Has meaning
Believing that everything has to be explained
Everything justified
Nothing mysterious, even less beautiful
Something we can rationalize
Something we can think rather than feel
And that I believe is the beginning and end of everything
One’s heart, one’s soul, one feelings
Thought is the habit of the discontent
Scrutiny is the hobby of pessimists
Love is the thought that doesn’t exist
Hope and acceptance
The feelings of the sax roaring through the night
Streetlights the guardians that lead me home
Meaning is meaningless
It steals beauty as if it ever really owned it in the first place
As if beauty was something that one could own
That one could ruin with a simple statement  
A simple sentence
The interpretation that is no longer subjective or opinion but fact
The end all
But there is no end all
In my opinion
There is only begin-all
There is no end of time
There is no time
If zero existed I wouldn’t be here
All there is
Is infinity
If something exists
It can’t not exist
It  can only exist
There’s no need to keep track of what doesn’t exist
Only of what does exist
And what does exist
Needs no explanation
Explanation is only a reason
A reason not to enjoy everything
That not necessarily consumes or surrounds
But forms a part of the composition
That flows like a bee from a hive to a flower
Forming a beautiful painting
Poem
Novel
Essay
Expression
And at the same time
Giving everything meaning
And explaining that there is nothing to explain
There are no rational rationalizations
No understandable understandings
Understanding is overrated
The only thing I need to understand is that
Beauty is beautiful
Only is only
Many are many
Nothing is nothing
It doesn’t exist
The only thing with the right to exist
Is me running mad through the city streets
Screaming with joy
Straight to the forest
With lights burning
And bouncing off me
As hit the speed of flight
And learn to explode
Burning across the skies
Learning to walk on the sun
And listen as the trees and the rivers teach me the true meaning of music
As everything as is
Listens
Never waiting for it’s turn to speak
To kiss me
The guy with the big smile on his face

I see her
I’m ignored
She’s looking for something
She’s look for nothing
Nothing she can see, anyway
She’s frustrated

She’s beautiful
I want to touch her
But I won’t
I want her to smile or make her smile
But she won’t
I want to ask her about her day
And we’d talk
Together
With drunken smiles on our faces
But we won’t

We’ll walk by each other
I won’t smile
I’m jaded
She won’t smile
She’s afraid

She starts crying
And they’re not healthy tears

She can’t hold on anymore
Everything has let her down

The world isn’t what she thought it would be
It never is

She wants to die
I don’t blame her

If she wants to jump, I won’t stop her
That world must be less painful than here

If she has the courage to see what’s on the other side
I’ll stay here
I’ll wonder how it went
I’ll wish she would’ve stayed
So we could’ve met

Her crying quits, abruptly
She goes back inside
I know
There’s no turning back

For the next few minutes
I anticipate IT
The acid
Loud
Crackle
Of fire
Steel
The walls painted of sanguine

I want get up
Go over
Kick down the door
Stop her
Tell her that there’s something
Something that’s worth it
Something pretty
That some things are beautiful
That somewhere is beautiful
That she should just
I don’t know
Not get scared

I won’t think any less of you if you decide you want to though
But not everything is completely hopeless
At least I’m not, anyway

I want to save you
I want to make you happy
But I won’t

Where were you on that day that I met you?
On that day that you leaned against the wind lost in thought?

Were you in the forest seeking a spot where the sunlight bled through?
Were you on the beach looking for that dry spot of sand you could sink your toes into?
Were you flying through the storm-clouds looking for a clearing?

Did you recognize me as a limb on the same tree?
As the same handful of water that quenched thirst?
Was I to you a different piece to the same being?

Were you running through fields of roseless thorns looking for a patch of rye?

Did you acquire that embrace that was so long denied you?
Did you find a window in that house?
And if you did was light shining through it?
Did the light burn your skin?
Or did it kiss you?

Have you committed a crime that was committed against you?
Did the punishment that your transgressors avoided, find you?

Have you dived and looked for Atlantis as if it was all that mattered?
Were the shining lights of the city too great for you to hold back your tears?

Did that gust of wind smother the flames in the forest and take you past the sky and into the heavens themselves?
Were you soaring high with the stars, watching trees sprout from the infertile sands?
Did the skies open up?
Did the beyond move closer so you could reach out and touch it?
Did He touch your face as tears of serenity streamed down running to His hand to evaporate into a place you'd never have to discover again?
Show me.

I smile, run, jump, happy, shudder, cry FLY FLY
Don't want to learn to do anything else
Have no reason to do anything else
If no one else does, that's there problem
But never again am I going back over those mountains
The mountains that keep those insane, flames from reaching these shores and trees and birds
Beautiful birds
Physically and vocally overflowing onto everything around them
And why would I want to be away from that
A place where that golden mother up in the sky is never hidden
I will never ignore you or hide from you behind my ceilings and grey
I will never try to ***** you out with smoke
You are all I need
Protecting me from trying to understand/undermine your glory
These shores are ours
And every morning when you wake up and illuminate as far as my eyes can I see
I will show you gratitude by diving deep into the blue

I'm always reminded of a dream that I never had
Where I'm reading a story that I never got to write
To a girl I always wanted to kiss, but didn't
When I take her to a place of vast personal importance that I never found
Where I wrote down something that I never felt
About something I experienced, something divinely beautiful, that I can't remember
For some reason

They exist
They have to
They must
I know they do

I saw them
Clearly
I dug their bones out from underneath our feet
But they turned to dust
And now they feel the deserts

I swear they were real
They were as real to me as this paper and this pen
I think that statement destroys my credibility a bit
But I felt them

If I felt them once
Why don’t they come back?
Why don’t they exist anymore?
Why can’t I find them?

Some people say it’s because they never existed
I try not to believe what they say
But the days go on
And I become more susceptible to the heartless priest and vain churches
But I fight with all my soul

What if my soul doesn’t exist anymore either?
What if it never existed?
Could I stand that idea?
It still exists
I feel it that means something

Maybe they exist in me now
Because I feel them
Or remember them, at least

If I go deaf
And I scream
I wouldn’t hear it
But I would feel it

If I go blind
And I cry
I wouldn’t see the tears
But I would feel my moist cheeks

They are gone
I am numb

But at times
I feel them
Or I think I can feel them

And for me
That’s enough

A charred frame
of something
that may have never
**existed

My smile filled with contempt
Compliments your dry eyes as they try to swallow me
Standing in front of this house we burned down years ago
The black cloud hangs silently over as a sign or a hint

Each winter stronger than the one before it
Each winter that comes close to wiping us out
Each winter that leaves us with frostbite in our limbs
Each winter that seems to last forever, it may last forever

Our friends, family walking by and staring in utter shock at the charred frame of our house
We stand in front, smiling
What's wrong?
Nothing, why do you ask?

We're dying
We won't survive another winter
And if we do I won't be able to stand the week-long spring
It's just too sad