Sitting in a hall way,
In a concrete jungle.

Sitting in the warm yellow light,
Looking out to the cold dark that envelopes the world.

Watching the rain pound, pound, pound down,
Hearing the drops hit the puddles as they grow deeper, and deeper down.

Shivering in the October air,
But refusing to zip up my calf skin jacket.

Thinking back to the days when man wore fur,
And hunted big game in the middle of a frigid winter.

Shamefully thinking of how well domesticated we all are,
Bred to scurry across the Earth in fear.

Resulting into the classic cliche of survival of the fittest,
Lying, stealing, killing, keeping the status quo.

The rain pounds harder, making my bones stiff,
I'm hiding away, I'm low on the food chain.

But what if I changed the game, transform into a big game hunter,
And not through violence, but through love.

Look out for the human race, be the chief, the pack leader,
Be relieved of the boredom that derives from existing.

Why wait for somebody else to step up,
When my time is slipping away like the rainwater dripping off a tree.

The every day of us poetically  inspired catches
in spasms an un-living thing
inspiring light and treasures we rearrange
writing lonely in the dark we seek to reignite
catch that  fire again that
word drab when heard rearranged
with our desires our dreams and
add a little fire  within to it  while
we change reality a bit at a time
into poetic dreams.

I didn't meet you that long ago,
But now the wind knocking rain drops,
From the tree tops,
Sounds like an orchestrated symphony.



But the long love lettered lips,
Tell me that in turn they push onto mine with passion.
Because you have my full and undying attention.

All do to one,
small,

silly,


Fluke.

.
Here in the middle with reign of moon,

Blue vein of waters flow under my feet,

And star crossed days end all too soon,

My path lies drowned above the stream.

You think that intelligence
is measured by words
by sentences
by essays
but no combination of letters you put together will be enough
to erase your ignorance.

I step into the beige cold tub,
Turn on the tap to hot,
It sputters for a moment, then bursts onto my skin,
It hurts, but that's what I like.

Steam rises around me,
Capturing me in a cloud,
Taking me away, allowing me to look at my own self,
To ponder all of my life.

Nothing else to think of really,
When all you see are three yellow walls,
And a translucent curtain,  I'm sheltered inside a clear warm bathe bubble,
I think of my love, and my life.

I look down to the water pooling around my toes,
My reflection looks back at me menacingly,
My humanity starring me in the face, each waiting for the other to blink,
Each one of us fighting ourselves until death.

That is our struggle,
To hate ourselves, to hate everyone else,
But still find love, compassion, empathy,
Our urge to survive against our instinct to care.

I let the boiling water fall over my head,
Burning my cheeks, waking me up,
Tears trickling down my whole body,
Feeling alive,

A lonely human standing in a hot shower.