I liked feelings better
  back when I was too young to really
understand them.
  I have become too familiar to their touch
that once used to run chills down my spine
  and the ones I once impatiently awaited
Do not cut as sharp as they once did.
  perhaps its the memories
that paint a more vivid picture
  for that I am not sure.

18, small village, small life. So far,
I feel like i am floating,
                                                     never doing anything of substance with my life.

Life is confusing, never felt like i had one.
A wallflower watching peers find the bottom of ***** bottles with loud music.
In love with the idea of being in love but never understood the concept.

Boring and tame, not any more.
I want to write, be creative, find a voice inside my head. Find me.

Do cliché things like move to a big city where I'm dust on a piece of the puzzle.
Be of substance, find the one, understand that love thing.

Venturing into the heart of insanity,
(my mind)
I fear that i will lose myself.
I hear the blood rushing in my head
(Will it ever drown me?)
As its the only sound i hear apart from myself.
Alone with my thoughts,
(Wish me well..)
Maybe this is what i want.
Insanity. Chaos. Something.

Today I saw an ad on the TV for the good life
$129.99 and all you ever wanted delivered to your door in a box
Shipping and handling included
The man in the commercial had a big smile on
And a golden retriever by his side
Were sitting under palm trees
Smoking cigars...

Who doesn't want a cigar smoking golden retriever?
So I called up the toll free number and demanded a good life...

One week later the box came in the mail
"There's no way a golden retriever could fit in there"
I thought to myself
"Not even a puppy retriever
These must be the cigars"

No cigars
Just pills

"Of course" thought I
"Eating these will take me away
To an alternate reality
With palm trees, smiles
And cigar smoking dogs
Duh"

So I ate the pill and closed my eyes
Awaiting lift off
Like I've done so
Many times before

One Mississippi
            Two Mississippi
                         Three, four, five Mississippi...

And you know what happened next?
My **** got hard for hours
That's it

Who's the sick SOB
Who's idea of a good life
Is an unexplainably long
Lasting *****?

I alerted the authorities
Called the FDA
They must have the answers...
They just told me to visit the nearest hospital
Everything will be fine...

From that point on
I have been lost inside
And refuse to go outside
I shut my windows
And I lock the door

I can't make sense of it...
Why would I need to visit the docs?
I'm not the one thinking
Long lasting ******
Equals the good life

****** don't make retrievers smoke cigars
I'm not the one with the problem

Am I?

You hold me so close
And squeeze me so tight,
Your smell clings to my shirt
As you drive out of sight.

It's stuck to my shoes,
And my jeans, and my hair.
Your scent's in my pockets,
And swirls in the air.

But when it hits my skin,
Your smell mixes with mine.
It's flowers, and grass,
and memories, and time.

It's a spot on the beach
Where you kissed my face.
It's the smell of your car
From place to place to place.

I blush when I smell it,
The aura of you and me.
The feelings flood my nose.
It's a crush high, and it's free.

For the rest of the day,
I'll be wearing a smile.
The smell of us will linger,
At least for a while.

She's more beautiful
then critics give her credit for-

She bends at the spine,
pushing forward,
building tension
with those who observe her.

Her heart,
empty pages-
empty space,
room for words still unwritten-
yet seemingly full in the right place,
The beginning.

Her skin
folds beautifully
around the verses of her body,
Leaving you wanting more.

You'll be captivated by words
while falling forward
in hopes of a ******
that will help to create the perfect end.

She's a book,
well written,
Even Heming
would have his way
between the crevice of her words.

She's a book,
gentle to hold
while holding it together,

She's a book,
A novel,
A number one best seller-
Hanging onto every adjective you give her.

Hold her,
Read her,
Love her,
And don't you dare
put her down till you're finished.

He devours the snow upon which I bleed
Consumes then strays from every part of me
Yet I stagger back weak, so effortlessly
Keeping the prey close; the efficient way to feed.

(2/11/13)

Blood, sweat, and tears he would shed
On the path that lied ahead.
Imagine a child preaching the word of GOD
When even the adults had found it hard.

Can you picture him walking into town?
And his followers sitting on the ground
Listening to what he had to say
Their hands clasped together as they prayed.

Can you picture him in your mind?
Telling his mother that he is fine
And not to worry, not to bother
That he is not alone but with his father.
He was just a child, but he was the son of GOD
And preaching for him did not come hard.

From his birth she knew that to his father he would be true
For she was told ahead of time, what GOD had on his mind.
That he would be the leader of men and nations
And stop many of the devastations.

His childhood was about as normal as can be
But there was so many things that only he could hear and see
He knew that he was different from the others around
For they could not see the visions or hear the sounds.

This was the child called JESUS that we’ve all come to know
Two thousand years later and he is still loved so.

© L. RAMS