And so I sit in life's content,
And drive away all intent,
Harbored feelings rest inside,
Nothing left,
Here I reside,
Smooth the silk of hated paint,
Disguising truth and disgusting rank,  
Follow through and punch the clock,
Whisper when you cannot talk,
Follow me down broken aisles,
Avoid my eyes and broken smiles,
It's hard to stare at my reflection,
Your soulful eyes give no direction,
Lost again to imperfection,
Take me away,
Another round?

Someone has been logging in under different peoples names and posting a lot of trash. They've even been stealing other peoples work and twisting it and claiming it as their own. They've even sent comments under my name that I didn't make. Be careful.

Sure dreams are cool,
Let's meet in some faraway mystical place,
Let's embrace in airports baggage claim,
And pretend that this is the way it is supposed to happen,
Let us say hello and goodbye in opening sentences, 'Sorry I must go...soon',
How about a few days in my life?
Spent like wasted money and time,
9 days of double-shifts and coming home to grab 4 hours of sleep and imagining you beside me,
To give me a reason to keep going,
When all I really want is an eternal kiss and permission to say 'Gnight'. To sleep forever. To leap from a mountain, and turn into a bird before the ground reaches me, and rise on the winds.

Everything I said,
Was from fear of the stake,
Purity and plainess,
A radical simplification,
Not living or loving,
I wouldn't have missed you,
For the world,
Never to my god,
Than these things.

Trust me when I tell you its time to go,
Listen to me as I'm screaming at you,
It's not that I don't love you,
I demand that we survive,
Love is the only thing we have to share,
And teach,
We're needed,
Others don't know of this,
We have to show them,
We have to remain calm,
Frantic is everyone else,
Stop crawling through possessions,
Move, move with me,
Run for the hills my love,
I'm behind you,
I'm pushing and pulling and struggling to keep up,
And ahead,
Hold my hand as I climb ever-higher,
Continue breathing,
Life doesn't end here,
It keeps going if we allow,
Higher and higher,
Until at last we take deep breaths,
And wipe the sweat away.

Though our words are said in anger,
She still listens to me,
She awaits aside my crazy bitterness,
through words of love,
and decisions of who I am,
Desperate to know she's okay,
I press into her life,
She always tells me she's okay,
Even though tears fill her eyes,
I guess she is always right,
Though I feel she's not forthright,
Let go this night your stupid fear,
Embrace me, for once, this night,
I will only love you, and forever love you,  
Give to me one night.

Allow me to sing,
While I play your heartstrings,
Let me bask in the light of your eyes,
Allow me to soar in the wind of your whispers,
Let me rest in the shade of your life,
Again melt my heart with the warmth of your smile,
So precious the honor,
To stand by your side,
Forever and always,
I want to be near you,
If fate should betray us,
Be still my poor heart.

Lying entrapped in her arms,
Falling into her eyes,
Falling into her mysticism,
What is possible in this communion?
Instant contemplation?
Her doctrine becomes mine,
Tenets and principles,
Unknown,
Become mine,
I absorb her teaching and instruction,
I submit to her whim,
Less fanciful than my own,
Losing myself inside her,
I submit,
To her ever-shifting paradigm,
For her offerings,
Her sweetness that she dismisses,
For that is her,
She seeks someone to discover her beauty,
Which only she knows.

Each day I arise,
Awaiting sunsets,
On the horizon of your mind,
Sinking low, this illuminating and colorful depiction,
Throwing colors about,
Magenta and burnt-orange,
Violet with blue,
Having missed the sunrise that is you,
Glistening sparkley eyes,
Drawn deep with longing for my awakening
In your soulful eyes,
Feeling soft the generous love,
That cannot be contained,
It is felt and wanted,
Needed,
Desired,
Cried for over sleep,
Disturbed in otherwise quiet dreams,
Held gently and admired,
Love undisturbed,
Lost I feel,
Shaken about,
Startled from this dream,
Realizing,
That love will come,
I remain parched,
Thirsty,
I wanna drink from your well,
And quench this overwhelming dryness,
But I fall short,
And never reach you,
I slowly die,
Laid to rest in this arid and desolate desert,
Falling prey,
To the burning sun,
That is you.

When and where,
Did I start following your star?
A thousand lightyears ago?
A lighthouse, a beacon,
Through densities of dark-matter,
Shining so brilliantly through eons and epics,
Calling me to explore early explosions,
And beginnings of time,
Golden light reaches me,
Faith and speculation abound,
Dynamic and static this knowledge,
Cold steel anvils crushing hard against burning and fiery tempermental vestments,
Wearing proudly this armor and adoration of you,
Like many who've come before,
I am the King,
At least this time...

Alvin waits for Shakila,
She is so slow sometimes,
Doesn't she know I have to be there on time?
I've spun around the house and combed my hair,
I'm ready to go.
She has to have her coffee and curly-fries,
She's so fat now, can she drive?
I will be late coz its expected of her,
Everyone knows she is behind.
Excuses no longer matter,
She is still my best friend,
Even though she is slow.
I sometimes think,
She needs rest.
She acts crazy.
Crazy, crazy, crazy,
But she takes me places,
But never on-time.

I can't breath,
Will I cry?
Not just yet.
Another puff remains.
Through it all,
Wisps of smoke.
Pouring outta my lungs,
As fresh air fights its way inside,
Do I dare to dance this hopeless trot?
I think rather not.

An architect of tile and stone,
mosaic played beautifully in natural colors of desert hues and corresponding twists of evergreens,
Super-heated heavy iron,
along sparks of arc that weld the mind to something infinite yet sublime,
Pastels,
blurring lines of what is real from what is seen,
on canvas unrealized,
Sculptured earthy clay resembling remembrances of more than simple glimpses set in stone,
Artistry of gastronomy,
purging old ideas and new-found taste to tease the discriminating palates of those inclined,
Poets reading widows tears in pouring rain,
outside well-lighted and closed laundro-mats in frigid airy nights,
Waiting to be heard and yet unrecognized in blue-grey hoodies,
Svelte voices and incantations that long for listening ears,
Writers writing about journeys and destinations,
each mile travelled and another respite upon their road, 'Poets, preists and politicians...their words are their ambitions',
Maybe someday there will arise,
a scientist,
that will surmise,
'All is one and one is all',
Then the bleats will not go unheard.

Lyrics and lullaby,
Escape me,
Melody and rhyme,
Are not mine,
Choirs and...umm...wait...I don't sing.

Hospitalized all,
No one showed.

Inspiration swayed,
Then swerved,
To a forgotten and unoticed corner of the room,
Quietly resting in a dusty and darkened shadow,
Brooding woefully,
Turning in on itself,
It waited,
Hunched and starving,
Ready to pounce,
At the first thing that moved,
Tearing at the flesh of ideas,
Ripping apart the drawn conclusions,
Sinking its teeth deep within the illusions,
Holding tightly,
Until the last breath was drawn,
And then moving,
Moving on

Having stems and branches,
Like thoughts and philosophy,
Growing and taking root,
Harboring life of all sorts,
Insect and bird,
Marsupial and primate,
So many others to name,
We climb them as children,
Play-houses with signs,
That say 'keep girls out',
Poets speak of them,
With admiration and awe,
We chop them down,
For fire and heat and cooking our fare,
We build houses from them instead of within,
We sit on their stumps,
And invoke memories of days we climbed,
And the poets write beautifully about them,
Upon their skins.

Sometimes it occurs to me,
Okay...every morning it does,
To be honest,
As gentle light filters slowly into my room,
And breaks along the window sill,
And scatters across the empty floor,
Reflecting on empty socks,
And what I wore the night before,
Shadows created become ominous shrouds,
Reminding and inviting me,
To return to the unconscious world I was so rudely thrown from,
Kicked out of,
No more peace for me,
No more sleep,
I toss and turn,
Hoping to find that serene place,
Where inviting and invisible wishes remain,
Please another minute or two,  
of unreality, so I plead,
don't make me wake,
It's quieter here,
It's warm and so comforting,
And then the stupid alarm goes off!
Really? It's monday already?

Epochs and eons and celestial time,
Enormous chunks of eternity,
Pass so quickly by,
As I move through this realm,
Dragging  behind me,
Unequaled paramimity,
Or a word that sounds like that,
Forever is blurred by tomorrows and todays,
Moving through life,
Sorrrow remains.

And for those outside of American commercialism, be mindful everyday :)

It's becoming a bit weary
Listening to 'uh...hum',
Forgettable moments I wish would go away,
I still love listening to the ever-increasing pauses though,
I still love her,
Listening to quiet breath,
Something in it for me I suspect.
I am not the same, I guess,
The excitededness doesn't extend across oceans,
What was boundless has become empty,
Or so it seems,
I miss her so,
Depression of promises left unrealized,
Meetings going un-met,
Kisses lost to forever.
Eyes that will never shine with mine.

I've been falling,
for over a year and a half,
falling very fast,
two weeks ago,
I finally hit the ground,
with a resounding splat,
I never realized,
I could lose my sense of direction,
because falling is usually down,
but I was falling in,
deeper and deeper,
each day,
losing myself along the way,
my head is no longer,
in the clouds,
my feet,
are firmly planted,
the landing hurt like hell,
but it feels good to be standing.

A bright unsteady light,
The fuel without consequence,
Enthusiasm and fondness abound,
Presented as drama,
Affection, love and devotions,
Make apparent burning hillsides,
And conflagration exposed,
Consumed by fire,
All is not lost,
There is power in this,
In passion,
In desire,
Containment isn't always best,
Sometimes adding kindle,
Is required.

I draw on a place,
That is within me,
twisting and turning,
Vast crevices abound,
An emptiness exist here,
Like deep caverns,
echoing aloneness,
I search for meaning inside me,
I search for meaning outside as well,
Purpose, I suppose, is what I make of it,
Hell too.

Oh no!
I have just been diagnosed,
With a case of Extreme Stupidity,
My doctor says its probably terminal,
But with advanced methods and invasive procedures,
My chances of survival,
Are, at best, hopeless,
With proper treatment,
And a well-balanced diet,
I should be able to overcome the side-effects of the medication and therapies afforded by the state-run institutions,
And return to a 'normal and happy stupidless life'
There is no family history of this disorder,
But ten-out-of-twelve succumb to it,
So he says,
As I try and do the math,
The manifestation of this illness becomes clear,
Ten of twelve is equal to...umm...let's see...if there were one hundred...divided by...umm...okay wait...say we had twelve...or no ten...hold on...let's round this up to the nearest number...what is thirteen..dividing it by eleven...when chances are...2:1...is that what he said? Oh ****! I am terminal...minus 1.

Left unpainted,
The sky is a bland reminder,
That the sun sets,
Left unheard,
The ocean is a bland reminder,
That waves crash,
Without the susuration of the leaves,
Ah...**** the trees!
Left unspoken,
The heart is a bland reminder,
That love exist.

Morning sun,
Blinding me as I head east,
Though I squint,
Too early for shades,
Just way too **** cold,
And dark.
The desert paint alight with purple and subdued hues of mystery and roads belonging to no one and leading no-place,
I could exit here and be lost forever,
I wish for that sometimes,
Coz lonesome mood brings me down,
travel expects destinations,
Following broken paths is for the young,
For them reaching a place where meaning should whisper a bit in the ear,
Is more about the return than the journey,
Getting back to that place where they started is the goal,
I haven't that desire anymore,
Disappearing is a dream,
Unfulfilled,
Like saying goodbye to that early morning light.
Following still and quiet voices,
And choirs of mind.

They answer,
what they think you want to hear,
They agree with everything you say,
they try to tame and calm you,
When you seem 'out of control',
They say in quieted whispers,
what no one should ever say,
holding you down,
placing fingers over lips that wish to speak,
'Hush my darling, your words are not valuable, like mine'.
They are mean to you.
They want you for your toys,
And nothing more.

We sat there,
Staring at each other,
Eyes fixed,
Knowing the others soul,
Turmoil turned to silence,
Waiting for what's next,
And for a very long time,
We waited,
Then you took my hand,
And said 'let's go',
I held your hand and asked 'where?',
'that way' you replied,
I was out of breath,
And followed,
Hands clasped,
Lulled into sleep,
Into a moment of dreams,
Dragged toward other stars,
Surrendered.

Courage, such courage,
To behold in ones mind,
This fate undeniable,
And to continue,
Courage,
Such elusive courage.

Brought to me by you,
Was the word 'love',
Brought to you by me was 'Love is not enough',
You approached me with 'respect',
Then 'adoration',
Then a lot of other words.
Then gestures.
Then things I don't even wanna think about,
All to make my weakened mind and heart,
Yours,

If Michaelangelo,
Were alive today,
He would sculpt your svelte and lithe figure,
Into the finest Italian marble,
Marble that would last for ten thousand years,
So all men, from this day forward,
Would have the opportunity,
To perceive and envision,
That which only,
He and God could create.
She laughed at me,
Again.

Tattered and torn,
Beaten and worn,
Death is the only healing place.

That's about it really. Nothing else to say.

The naive traveler,
Staying fast upon the well-known trail,
Assumingly forged by others,
Heard, as he tried not to listen,
Rustling among the brush,
Disquieted, he scurried,
Never peering into the deep shadows,
Afraid of what he might find or might find him,
With eyes opened wide and centered upon the track,
He moved with all caution and haste,
Avoiding all the trips and snares that could allow him to stumble,
Dark was this jungle,
And moving about him,
the shadows and calls of the coming night,
He quickened his pace,
Fearing behind him,
Something gaining upon and moving ahead,
An ambush,
He knew if he would run,
The formidable gauntlet,
Would have little time to prepare for him,
Howling and leaping,
He'd overcome,
But the gauntlet was never set,
The sounds off the trail was his own creation,
His own fear,
He continued to run,
And he still does.

The finish line,
Within reach,
Running for my life,
Then running for my life.

Introspection,
Moments lost,
Or so I think,
Retrospection,
Involved thought.

You left me standing here all alone,
All alone,
You never meant to meet me here,
All alone,
You never meant to share that smile,
So alone,
I waited for so long,
Feeling so alone,
You promised to meet me here,
I've continued to wait for you,
But I feel so alone,
Coz your not here.

I see an abyss,
Forming in front of me,
I willingly step in,
It too,
Will find me distasteful,
And eventually spit me out,
Again.

Visions and dreams sit empty.
Without ambition and drive,
Imagination only lingers.
Hovering just slightly above truth,
Whatever that means to you.
I give in and up,
I can't figure it out.
Love doesn't always say yes,
Often it says no.
It always says maybe.

I've seen this one thousand times,
But I watch it anyway,
Hoping to gain something new,
But I know I won't,
Still I watch,
With eyes open,
And open mind,
Yet nothing is new,
It's like you,
Same shades and colors that you choose,
I get bored and angry,
Not because of me,
but because of you,
And it scares me to hell,
Not because of you,
But the rituals you do.

Memories,
With long shadows,  
Cast by the light of age,
Exchange truth,
For a more comfortable delusion.

I've lost my life,
To drug and drink,
It doesn't matter,
I like to think,
Everything I thought I'd keep,
Is forever out of reach.

Life is a dare that I accept...but I lose.