The minds freedom can be missed,
But its lessons and wisdom will carry on for generations.

Roses  are red
So they always, have been
A love like ours
Is living in sin

Kisses under
The pale street light
A broken promise
To stay together
Till the end of time

I told her, I loved her
With a tear filled eye.
I told her I needed her,
All she could say was, goodbye.

Roses are red
Our love is dead

Walk away, in the pouring rain
My heart now of blue
Filled with all pain

Once the earth kissed the sky, then separated day from night, only to cause a rain storm from our heavens eyes.

Thunder and lightning
made our hearts collide
Bringing the once calm sea
To a roaring tide

Pulling our once love
Under the waves
Where it has died.

Whenever I lose the sense to believe.
I just look around at all the people who support and believe in me.
Strength not only comes from your heart, but also the hearts of those around you.

Seeing your thoughts
In my mind
Ugly in words
Changing in time

Once I knew you
Thats gone now
A newer version
Bow to the endowed

Like the wind
My once knews came in life
Like the blowing wind
It all changed
Like the turn of a dime

Thought I knew, of all you are
Til wind of change
Blew us all to far

Change if life
Like the turn of a dime
The mirrors an ugly reflection
Once it stops  its shine.

Bred as a whole
Ripped apart as new
Split in diversity
Walking in distance
As two.

God brings us in the world as a new body
Our spirit may be old
But his terrain is new
Flesh is just the souls jacket
The mind its amplifier
Vocal chords its speaker
Heart its energy

Our soul is a traveler
It may travel for years even centuries
Never to be understood
Until it finds the right mindset
To trust and call its own.

If you truly understand
You will see many roads
If you barely understand
They will all be closed.

Cold beer matters!
All beer deserves to be treated the same.
It doesn't matter what state it came from or how its brewed
It is someones love.
All beer is equal when it comes to relaxing from a long day. Doesn't matter if its a port a lager 16ounce or a pint as long as its cold there should never be judgment.
We can all get along knowing our tastes need not be the same to share our love for barly and hops as long as we agree on just one thing.
Cold beer matters!

Little things like understanding.
once added together, can build a strength we never knew of.
Listening, before speaking.
Speaking in lyric of fact, not opinion.
All lead to a understanding.
A understanding of yourself, learning to accept truth and facts.
Learning it is o.k. to not always be right.
Learning it is o.k. to listen, absorb and give benefits of doubt, when necessary .
Let go of the angered pain,
Let go of the ego, of having to be right.
Understand, we all have the right to an open ear, from the open mind.
There's a thought,
that enters my open mind.
Stopping the hate,
That fills my worlds time
Enter-
happiness
Stop-
in time
Understanding,
yours and mine.
Stop,
the time.
In a still second pace.
Holding time, briefly
To see, it's beautiful face.

To this thought,
That has entered my mind.
That gave me clarity,
For a still second of time.
I thank you,
my soul,
For allowing me to see,
A more loving world,
Where we all
can be.

Time does not stand still,
I know.
If it could,
this is it's second, I would choose.

My wish for this same second-
To freeze in time.
For each, and every soul
To smile, in harmony.

For everybody to feel
The warmth from happiness.
For everyone to see.
If we all work together,
A smile for one second,
We-
Can radiate a new born love.
For ourselves and each other.
All unite as one,
Where-
All are sister's and brother's.

If you believe as I do,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Then we need to believe,
In loving ourselves truly.
Once this love is unconditional then
May we let our light shine beauty
To the world.
Hoping soon for all to follow our footsteps.
Planting the seeds of kindness and enriching our universe/soul, for the most brightest of days ever witnessed by one's eye.

The only oppression
Is the oppression you create
We are one
With many different views
If we ask for change
We should change too.
50/50 is a working relationship
We all sweat
We all bleed
Red white and blue
Are the only colors I see
No one needs to understand any race
If we are proud to be one
Where freedom lyes
Then the only color The only oppression
Is the oppression you create
We are one
With many different views
If we ask for change
We should change too.
50/50 is a working relationship
We all sweat
We all bleed
Red white and blue
Are the only colors I see
No one needs to understand any race
If we are proud to be one
Where freedom lies
Then the only color that should matter is our colors in the sky.

Use your love as a shield. People who cannot accept it, shy away from it. Like the burning of the suns ray. While people who accept it, also live and understand its true meaning. These are the people who  will be true friends until the end.

Like a piano, alone in the woods.
Blending it self and it's beauty
Within.
The trees, tall,
So strong, yet inviting.
Their leaves, move to a whimsical tune of the breeze.
Invisible notes,
Read by an unseeing eye.
Building a Symphony,
Starring only, one night.
Footsteps on the leaf filled path,
Write a story,
like notes filling their manuscript.
The key to the forest is understanding it's story.
The keys to the piano,
Decode it's notes to the ear.
Playing it's defined Symphony
Like it's forest, for only one night.
Simply for the two are unique
Not only to the eye and to what is heard.
But also to the mind, and what is thought.
On this one night,
During the meaning,
of true, unidentified, beauty.

The poet warlord
Dwells in the caves of thought
Enter my realm, if you dare
Come see my truth
Unravel my stories,
dissecting each word
Still to never know my secrets
I speak in riddle,
You live in rhyme.
I am always ahead
That one step,
Which you are behind.

Doors open as I approach them
Slamming tight once passed
To assure they are closed, re locked
A one way ticket,
For a non stop journey
To keep moving forward

Locked behind are the doors
Once thought of never opening
Now are just past accomplishments
Never to be thought of our used
-again

Now knowing accomplishments come
With determination, and the strength of accepting challenge
I know I can, I will concur all my goals
Capturing dreams and building strengths along this very unstable, yet very rewarding road of life.

My thoughts in this fierce world are to brutal in truth for the Lions den to handle.
Your facade gives you weakened followers who know no better.
When the thinker speaks and followers listen, then this is when the truth becomes feared.
The truth begs and makes you not only see, but face the reality, the reality which you fear so deeply, the reality that you can not see by your own.
This is a brain washed society,  with few hopes nowadays.
Don't be a follower,  don't feed this negative energy being used to shut out hope for a better you.
We need encouragements for our selves, our lives, our strengths.
To believe in our soul and speak only with our heart shows the greatest of all beings, a true being.
We need not the "fear to think" we need to display our thoughts and need to fear the resentment towards a free thinking society before it is too late.  Please help show others there is hope and it is never too late.

My world has changed,
Yet my thoughts
Stayed  the same.
Evolution, revolution
-Round and round
Explain please, why did you choose me?
To live this life?
The question  - I scream
From the pain, built through the night.
Evolution,  revolution
-round and round
Disrupting  concerns,
Of your damaging behavior.
Like a prisoner, in his cell.
I'm trapped with you-
To live in your hell.
Evolution,  revolution
-round and round
Torment my nerves, strip them raw
Turn the rest of this world,
Against my every thought.
Evolution,  revolution
-round and round.

Poetry isn't in stone
It is free range wording
The poets choice of lyrical freedom

Poetry doesn't need structure
No grammatical judgement either
Simply because poetry, being the poets thoughts, should be original and never reproduced.

Styles of poetry
Put into classes
Lyrical freedom in cages of judgmental stereotypes.

No not me,
I'll keep to my words
Keep your Haiku, Narrative,  Sonnets for the "poets" who need Authentication.

I'm not that of a poetical *****
I am more of a lyrical lover
Wanting to share his thoughts
To the severely damaged, or as some would say "the open mind."

Grammar Nazis live in schools
But need not overturn freedom, expression and views from our minds.
Unlike "Nazis" true poets do not honor the dress code nor speak in a statement to sound as if we are mass produced robots.

True poets are artistic rebels in the Nazis mind.
To the poet we are freely expressing our true feelings in a way we feel explains our actions loud enough to be heard, yet soft enough to never offend the true hearted.

Her taste is on my tongue.
Her feel is on my fingers.
She's Electric to touch.
With her poetic mind,
Maybe her thoughts, too much.
Never seeing me, yet I see her
Live in her essence,
Love in her womb.
Skies of darkened gray,
Scare the sunshine, from today.
She's Electric,  she's a storm today.
Entriging energy, her strength, I pray.
To be electric,
the rest of my lives day.
Mother of nature, life to our world.
Fill me with your love,
May your electric love be unfurled.

Little things like understanding.
once added together, can build a strength we never knew of.
Listening, before speaking.
Speaking in lyric of fact, not opinion.
All lead to a understanding.
A understanding of yourself, learning to accept truth and facts.
Learning it is o.k. to not always be right.
Learning it is o.k. to listen, absorb and give benefits of doubt, when necessary .
Let go of the angered pain,
Let go of the ego, of having to be right.
Understand, we all have the right to an open ear, from the open mind.

My thoughts
To
Your mind

Trapped in the middle of a forest.
Nowhere to turn,
Nowhere to run.

My feet, soft in sand.
Stuck, unable to move.

The leafs are falling on my head,
Down my face, like dusty  tear drops.
Rustling and crinkling,
Like some kind of uneasy sadness.

Crashing are, the now naked trees
As now they are screaming,
Screaming, for me to leave!

CLICK,
CLINK!
CLANK,
CLICK!

Leave my turf!
Warns the ornery tree.

I try to leave,
But each movement I make,
sinks me deeper,
into the ground.

Quick sand, this must be!
As I am sinking more deep!

Now, up to my neck
In the thickest of muck.

The trees still clicking,
Clanking so loud!
Sounding as if they were chanting a sacrifice.
Taunting me, challenging me,
Watching me whimper, for life.

CLICK!
CLINK!
CLANK!
CLICK!

The leafs,
Continue to fall upon my head.
One by one,
Driving me mad!
Like a mid evil water torture,
On my mind!

Is this to be my final destination?
My falling?
The heavier my thoughts - it seems,
The deeper, I sink.

The deeper I sink,
The more I think,
The heavier I think,
The more I sink.

As the deeper I sink,
The deeper I think.
This may be,
Is this for me?
The possible end of my time?

The more I think,
The deeper I sink.
Thinking, knowing, understanding
This is not the possible end of time,
But this is the ultimate,
end of my time.

The end of time,
All my goodbyes,
Sinking, thickening,
Deepening, in time.

Deeper and deeper,
Dark and deeper.
Until once, all my light, has gone.

All light, has gone,
Turned away, turned away
Blackened my sight,
Stolen my day.

Ended now,
my life.
In this forest of prey.

Little things like understanding.
once added together, can build a strength we never knew of.
Listening, before speaking.
Speaking in lyric of fact, not opinion.
All lead to a understanding.
A understanding of yourself, learning to accept truth and facts.
Learning it is o.k. to not always be right.
Learning it is o.k. to listen, absorb and give benifits of doubt, when necessary .
Let go of the angered pain,
Let go of the ego, of having to be right.
Understand, we all have the right to an open ear, from the open mind.

My wine had spilled across the table
that day.
A cheap Chiante, the bottle rolled off
the table.
Causing a castatrophic scene on my
hard wood floor.
Cheap laminet, the glass lye on it's
side, on my glass table like a gun shot
victim.
Bleeding it's last ounce of sweet nectar
across it's ground.
I lit a smoke, leaving it on the middle
of the table.
Not in a ashtray and just rolling on the
only dry spot of my uneven table.
I took a black and white photo of the
spill.
Photo shopped it all night long and
proceeded to make a really cool picture.
I'm thinking of having it framed, for
you.
But then also know how much it would
be.
That's alot of dough for a cheap ***
spill of wine.
And perhaps way to much thought I
have, or way to much time.

I've been writing poetry for about thirty years now.
I have notebooks upon note books filled with many thoughts, storys and so called lessons.
Scribbles collected on stationery, box topps and restaurant napkins.
Many lost or thrown away, as I used the napkins to blow my nose when I had the flu.
I wrote poetry in my younger years
In 24 hour diners and when I wasn't to hung over to go to school.
Sadly though most of those lessons are gone to be forgotten, in dump grounds of Parma Ohio  Set in the city's ground engraved on old desk topps and tables are these thoughts. Slowly fading, like my mind, slowly detererating more each year.
I've been writing poetry for about thirty years now. I haven't accomplished a thing accept carpal tunnel and a repetive mind. Collecting and capturing my thoughts really made me see how little I think, how repetitive I really am.
Collecting and capturing these thoughts, prose and so called lessons, really accomplished not a thing.
A bunch of notebooks, loose papers and dried out pens.
Maybe there is an accomplishment from this mess, maybe it has helped me see I am a hoarder and can't let go of any of my thoughts.
Although they are all the same, just rearranged according to the day, I still think they mean something. "If something was nothing, I would be rich."
Glancing back at thirty years of beer soaked ******* and coffee stained sobbing really gives one a new perspective of how deranged life really can be.
So I'll pack another 20 sticks,  smoke faster then I breathe and write a new "profound" thought from this epiphany .

I want to be well
Please, I pray to heal me
Let me be me again.

I miss myself
I miss being healthy
I feel I'm dettererating
From inside out.

I was once a strong individual
Who was never scared to get back up
From crashing so hard to the ground
Now
Barley able to lift a single limb
Yet alone my body back up
Is detramental

To accept this new life
As good, as strength
Is not acceptable in my mind
My body deserves more

My soul deserves to be pain free
My life deserves to break these chains
Weighting me down with disease.

The constant battles
Of if I can or cannot
If so how long
What do I need to prepare for
Is warring thin.

I once wore scars proud
To show others how strong I was
Now my scars are all on the inside
Affecting my thoughts actions words and breath.

A little more each day
As each day new scars form
Never to show
Only for me to know.

I want to be well
Please alowe me to be me
Again
To be judged no more
Of the shape
I am in.

The orchids look beautiful
My dear
You eyes, like the seed, from a flower
Its soul, it holds.
The lake ripples, in time
My mind thinks, somewhere else
Without you, it, I will never find.
Whisper in my ear,
tell me of secrets, I need to hear
Breath be the breeze,
That ripples my heart.
The sun is going to sleep, my dear
The orchid, she is tired
Her fragility,  needs rest
To brighten another's dream
My dear

Sometimes
We need to climb
Back down the ladder
Once we reached the top
To avoid being burned
From our past decisions

I drain these once were words
Turned to thoughts.
From my pen, to paper
Yet you still refuse to read them.
As my pen ink drys
And tears subside.
Thinking this road,
Has come to an end, for tonight.
I swig my whiskey,  
Stare in my mirror,
Are you going to let them stop you?
All of your fears?
I curse to God, for he's  the only one who cares.
Light a smoke, as it rolls to my eye
The last of my ink, in my pen has died.
These words are no good,
Yet these thoughts, must be read.
I must carry on,
The message in my head.
I grab my worthy pen,
"Let's make history my friend "
Jabbing it's point to my heart
Filling it with my thoughts,
Torn apart.
Now I will write in blood
My thoughts of strength flood
My mind sets free
As my heart still bleeds.
Dying slowly, I smile
Finally you see my style.
Read these words, of once was I
Then burn them with my soul aside
Set them free to the sky
Scattered ashes, say goodbye.

Seeing your thoughts
In my mind
Ugly in words
Changing in time

Once I knew you
Thats gone now
A newer version
Bow to the endowed

Like the wind
My once knews came in life
Like the blowing wind
It all changed
Like the turn of a dime

Thought I knew, of all you are
Til wind of change
Blew us all to far

Change if life
Like the turn of a dime
The mirrors an ugly reflection
Once it stops  its shine.

Bred as a whole
Ripped apart as new
Split in diversity
Walking in distance
As two.

Moss covered land
Dreams the raven
Once owned by humans
Then destroyed by them

They took for granted
What was once beautiful, caring and understanding.
They let greed overrule kindness
And killed all that was good.

They polluted the oxygen
They use to breathe
The pollution in their water
Got millions ill
And killed off many species
Who relied for centuries on the ocean as their home.

Leading to their own demise
And leaving their mess behind
Leaving their destructive paths
For me the raven to now live
Abandoned and alone
With only a memory of once was
My mother.

Summers day,
Sunshine my way.
Like a wild rose,
Growing in a field of lavender
Bringing a unique distinction,
Yet never over bearing.
Blending in,
Yet being my own.
A rebellious soul,
With a place to call home.
Sunshine my way,
On this summer day.
Greet me with a smile,
Even though I don't see your way.
Let us all understand,
We are all wildflowers,
Till the end.
Living for life,
In the same field.
Where all may be friends.

Holding hands in society and in private is a true form of commitment.
Hold my hand while I lead you away from what makes you hurt.
Hold my hand while I guide you to your light.
Hold my hand in compassion.
Hold my hand during times of grief.
Let me know you are truly listening by holding my hand.
Congratulations,  shake my hand.
It's a bet, handshake confirmed.
Let's hold hands and be there for one another.
Help me be brave, let me know I am not alone,  take my hand in yours.
High five congratulations,  turn into a hand shake.
A handshake turned to hug goodbye.
Hand over hand shake of I will miss you.
A hand shake turned to bro hug, while saying goodbye to a friend.
A hand shake to share our emotions and introduce our souls.
A hand shake to confirm a end.

It was the sunniest of days, in the mids of July. The year I don't recall. I was a boy then, doing some chores to make extra money. I was good at yard work. Raking, cleaning twigs, cutting down trees etc. I learned how to keep a clean yard from my grandfather, (my papa)he believed in hard work and in being a honest man. He was raised on a farm and worked from sunrise to well past the darkened hour. "A little hard work won't **** ya" was his motto, I sought-after.  The sun was beating hot, without the shield of a single cloud. I took all I could, until I just needed to escape the sun, for just a minute. I ducked off into the near bye woods, where I knew all the trees would protect me. Their branches and leaves all intertwined, created a umbrella that would go on for miles. I found a moss covered rock bigger then me, in a dark damp spot of this forest. Laying my head down, I stared up at all the tree leafs, watching with anticipation for one to fall. I still remember the smell and feel of those woods. The smell of serenity and the feel of unjudging thoughts. "This is how I want to spend my life" I clearly remember saying out loud (to myself.) The woods were dark and cool. Yet calming and real to me. I frequented those woods for days on, through my childhood years up through my teenage years. Something had changed me that one summer day in July. Something had shown me a new light, a much more simple way of life and our expectations.  It was calming, nurturing and protective. It was me, it was my soul,  showing me how to be like you papa. My soul showing me how peaceful life is when we are at peace with ourselves. How everything we do, no matter how trivial at the time, really matters. Like all those times papa and I sat around a fire burning the days tree limbs and debri. Thinking it was just fun, when in reality, it was the best lesson I have ever learned.
The end.

You are my drug
I keep coming for more
Your the only thing
that gets me high
Your love's my addiction
Swiming through my veins
You are my blood
Whisky and pills
Are your kisses and hugs
You are the whisky
In my water bottle
The bass, in my song
The light on my lifes
Disco floor
Dance with me
Hold my hand
Intoxicate me
Never let me down
I can't ever get you out of my mind
I crawl to get to you everynight
Your the only one who can take away these shakes
The only one who lets me hide
My mistakes
Take me for who I am
I need you tonight
I need my high, my fix
My new drug, my you.

A dark clump of ice
Blocks my soul, melting quickly
Turning my once clear thoughts
To unseen milky  visions
A body that once use to hold the warmest of hearts
Has now turned cold.
Like the sun, on a cloud covered day
The light doesn't  shine like it use to
The city's weather is uninviting,
Tonight.
So is my heart, that barely beats
To keep me alive.
It pumps the infectious thoughts of my mind
Filling my veins with blood as thick and dark, as the filth covered chunk of snow.
Lying in the middle of the cold darkened city street, slowly melting
Like my heart slowly deteriorating
Without the warmth of your soul.
My life is now an elapsing of fate.

When respect is gone
When the rules are no more
When martyrs have to win
No lives matter

When titles and ranks of authority
Are constantly attacked, and can be scrutinized for doing a service
No lives matter

When no one is there to listen, to help, to protect you
Then your life matters

Your life cannot matter
Without others lives
Lives keep balance
Just because there's disagreement
Doesn't justify irrational behavior
This only proves
No lives matter

Once we learn to respect all
Once we learn no one including ourselves are perfect
Once we accept violence is not an answer
Once we accept accountability for ourselves
Once we stop pointing guns and fingers at one another
Will we start to civilly start thinking
Of our actions and the price we pay for them
Then maybe then will
All lives matter.

I spend hours looking at her
Beauty.
Her lustrous hair, her glowing soft skin, her eyes so beautiful.
She sits there, as I stare intently, creating my sculpted art of my one and only love.
Her giggles, make me laugh
Her eyes, give me hope
Her soul gives mine a home.
Stare I can do all day, and do. Then with her soft spoken voice she asks (are we finished?)
My reply as I make my final smooths (almost my dear)
A few minutes later I reveal a clay heart in my hands.
She says it's beautiful,  but I thought you were sculpting me.
I was my love (I replied.) I see how beautiful you are everyday.
Before I could never express what I felt about you in any just way. Until today when I never looked down at my hands and just made what I feel when I look at you.

I am a stone.
I am the mountains stone.
With your strength,
You pick at me,
until I become to weak.
Until I can't take no more.
Losing my grip, slowly I separate,
With each hit.
Until finally, I fall,
Plumething down.
Rolling, bouncing around,
This ragged mountains terrain.
Bouncing off rocks,
Crashing to trees,
A never ending journey,
This seems to be.
Finally I land in to the rivers bed.
separated from my old,
I'll make this, my new home.
Submerged in water,
Trapped in a corner -alone
Camouflaged.
you'll never see me again,
Moss covered, green
Blending in, society.
Watching your every move.
Protecting all who you bruise.
Thinking I'm not there.
yet I live in your lungs,
For I am now your air.
I will decide,  when to leave you.
For all you have done in these woods.
Once you've realized to late,
You have killed all that's good.

Like whispers, nighttime speaks.

Water falls to the creek
My blood flows of emotion
As a tear drop leaks.

Whispers

The sky thick with ice
foggy visions
Fill my sight.

Nighttime

Whisper in my ear
Winds of change
Are getting near.

Serene

Thunderous day
Come back again
Speak my reflection
Of my only friend.

Staring in the mirror gave my soul a minute to breathe. Remembering times when I wanted to be anything but normal never wanting to grow old. As the lines in my face only deepen, so do the thoughts of a once younger man fighting to be different. Now as my age sets in a bit, I hear the thoughts of once me.
I snicker a bit, thinking "you never knew what you were thinking man."
Now I embrace these new thoughts,  thoughts of an older man. A man who has been down many roads and seen many seasons. A man who now only wants to be normal, blend in with the crowd and be listened to. I need not to be heard with my loud voice, or seen with my rebel look. I just need to be normal,  thankful when I can live normal.  Thankful for my senses allowing me permission everyday to see, hear, feel, smell, and taste life. Thankful for feeling love, through family and supportive friends. For the special connection I feel and am grateful for each day when I see my lovely wife. Grateful to be able to call my "normal" life, "my life." Grateful to learn from my past, to see my future and never to waste a single minute of life's precious minutes wishing I had anything else.

For this world already has already witnessed to much hate.

My soul use to be open
But now is closed.
Like some detour, on a dirt road
You'll never know
Where these thoughts, could go.

Once open, like an all night diner
Was where you could find my mind
But now, the light is out
And closed,  is the sign.

Once this soul had glistened
With trust
Shimmered all it's thoughts
Like gold
Now it is shriveled and dry
Not worth a cent
With thoughts too old.

A day late, a dollar short
Once people were proud of me
Now they just set me on fire
To light their stogie.

This old soul, use to be good
Like this old bottle of gin
Now they're both empty and useless
You got what you wanted
Now go buy some fascist label to replace us
We know our place,
Upon the dusty shelve
Next to the roses, you bought last year
Wilted, dry and deteriorating
From lack of interest.

Holding hands in society and in private is a true form of commitment.
Hold my hand while I lead you away from what makes you hurt.
Hold my hand while I guide you to your light.
Hold my hand in compassion.
Hold my hand during times of grief.
Let me know you are truly listening by holding my hand.
Congratulations,  shake my hand.
It's a bet, handshake confirmed.
Let's hold hands and be there for one another.
Help me be brave, let me know I am not alone,  take my hand in yours.
High five congratulations,  turn into a hand shake.
A handshake turned to hug goodbye.
Hand over hand shake of I will miss you.
A hand shake turned to bro hug, while saying goodbye to a friend.
A hand shake to share our emotions and introduce our souls.
A hand shake to confirm a end.

Rain drops fall from the tree top.
Tree top drips, from the leaves above.
Recreation of a storm that has already gone.
Fall from the clouds rain to be captured again.
Again to the wind, carried across the darkest sky.
Land on a limb falling like the tear from a saddened eye.
Tree tops cry, winds go by.
Fall gentle my tear, like a drop from heavens sky.

Little Jack Horner said
To hell with this corner
And had a stroll outside

He saw his neighbor Humpty
And climbed up the wall
Not to say hi, but create a fall

Humpty said what's up guy
Horner said I'm sick of pie
Humpty saw the look in Horners eye
Oh my, oh my, please Jack I am no pie

With one push during Humptys babble
Off of the wall,
Now Jacks eggs are scrambled.

A world in disarray
Filled with un-truth
Creating hate filled fear

No one can walk down streets
Without having fingers pointing
No one can wear a thing
Without offending another

How does a country so strong
Have so many
Who don't believe in a single thing
It - we - stand for?

Listening to facts,
not what we believe.
Not taking others actions
So personally.

So quickly we erupt
So little do we listen
Offended by intelligence
Offended by answers
Quick to blame others
Quick to shame ourselves.
G-Buda

His ears are bleeding
His throat on fire
From the lies trapped deep inside

The words so violent
with breath of delusion
And eyes of fog
Making it hard to see


The mind cannot  be free
Once beaten not to think

Like the soul
Hidding in the darkest shadow

Trapped for life
Confined in a corner of abuse

No remorse,  no regrets
His feet  murderous weapons
Stomping on others dreams
Leaving them, once he is done
Looking like a trampled flower garden.

With their roots torn
And beauty now hidden
He looks in the mirror

His razor like ungroomed nails
Tare into his cheeks
As teats run from his eyes
Blood runs from his cheek

What have I done?
Who have I become?
I am unraveling
I've become undone.

Talking to the stars
Only caused jealousy
Between the moon and I

I told her, I loved her
With a tear filled eye.
I told her I needed her,
All she could say was, goodbye.

The script is never finished
This rewritten bogle of the once poetic mind
Is now just a lonely road
to non sensual loving words
Leading to a heart,  with nothing to show except for its deadening one way street for the broken and untrusting.
This world burns of fire, as it freezes our soul.
Stopping life in its tracks
Painting some abstract strokes
Of a now still life.
Of a life that was, once known
This battered city of the hopeful hearted has devoured every dream
And blackened all its goals
Leading the newly blind
To steal and collect there souls
Rewritten words,
claimed as new thoughts
Piles of guilt
Innocence now lost
Rewritten is this script
Taking from all its originality
Claimed by others as knowing
Known by me
As never learnt.

Now I kneel
And bow to thee
Take my head
For I need it no more

I beg of thee
Slice it clean

Let my bottled thoughts
Absorb to the ground

As they pour from my mind
Bleeding patters of time.

As my thoughts pour
Unleash my sea of dreams
Unleash my once secret,
Secrets for all to see.
(while they still can)
Until they all vanish deep
in the depths
of this trampled ground
To be buried for good.

I bow to thee,
in a guilt of plea
Take this life
(Please)
set me free.

When the blood of one's thought becomes our sand.

I am a stone.
I am the mountains stone.
With your strength,
You pick at me,
until I become to weak.
Until I can't take no more.
Losing my grip, slowly I separate,
With each hit.
Until finally, I fall,
Plumething down.
Rolling, bouncing around,
This ragged mountains terrain.
Bouncing off rocks,
Crashing to trees,
A never ending journey,
This seems to be.
Finally I land in to the rivers bed.
separated from my old,
I'll make this, my new home.
Submerged in water,
Trapped in a corner -alone
Camouflaged.
you'll never see me again,
Moss covered, green
Blending in, society.
Watching your every move.
Protecting all who you bruise.
Thinking I'm not there.
yet I live in your lungs,
For I am now your air.
I will decide,  when to leave you.
For all you have done in these woods.
Once you've realized to late,
You have killed all that's good.

Remember the script is never finished, only recreated.
Rember,
I am a stone, standing tall
I am the mountains stone.
With your strength and jealousy
You pick at me,
picking and striking
until I become to weak.
Until I cannot take anymore.
Losing my grip, slowly I separate,
A little more with each hit.
Until finally, I fall,
Plumething down
Rolling fast andbouncing around,
This ragged mountains terrain.
Bouncing off rocks,
Crashing to trees,
A never ending journey,
This seems to be.
Finally I land in to the rivers bed.
separated from my old,
I'll make this, my new home.
Submerged in water,
Trapped in a corner -alone
Camouflaged.
you'll never see me again,
Moss covered, green
Blending in, society.
Watching your every move.
Protecting all who you bruise.
Thinking I'm not there.
yet I live in your lungs,
For I am now your air.
I will decide,  when to leave you.
For all you have done in these woods.
Once you've realized to late,
You have killed all that's good.
Looking back,
At burning your own fate
Suffocating your health
trying to breathe,  too late
Your past history now,
Layed out on a shelf
Your story's been found
And you scream out , for help
Your past, may not haunt you
Yet, revenge, it will stalk you
Once karma has turned its back
At your most vulnerable of times
Is when it will attack.