Slender shoulders and a back that breaks,
Whimper young blood, whimper.
The shotgun warrior shut you up,
oh, but god knows you're a phoenix, aren't you!
Rise Hamlet!
Rise winter and summer, spring and fall!
Rise Romeo! Rise you poet! Remember!

The whole world is a parade, a dream.
I walk 8:00 am, Math God speaks false hymns,
God denies god, white rat teeth in memory foam
world, band-aids. Ascend the steps to the steeple --
I learn nothing, I know nothing. The Girl
with so much to say, the broken machine,
you are more human than anyone I know.
Biology is what we are. Inside there's a harmony,
a song, a 90's feminist punk rock
song stuck inside you, you sit there like
a shriveled vagabond, beaten ****** by the
fear of God, in utter awe.
You cannot speak,
You say everything,
you have a scar, I don't care if it's good or bad, it's the truth, and maybe that's all that matters?
I speak, you write, you say nothing, your scar i physical, it's on your throat, you can't speak, God took it from you, but now he is the only one who can hear you... funny, isn't it?

I feel dumb.
It's like there's an amusement park behind me,
but I can't turn around.

I feel ugly.
I'm afraid to look in the mirror,
because it might look back.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
But I'm serious, so very serious.
I wish you could hear me.
I am happy though, so lavishly gay and bright.
I wish I knew what it was like so I wouldn't....
I want people to trust me. I don't want people to fear me, to see the disgust that I am, I want them to see innocence, and girlishness and and see me as relatable. I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU! I WILL NOT! I love hearing about you and your struggles, about your sorrows, and I can understand it, because I can feel just like you can feel and I love to feel what you are feeling for that is my only feeling.

I try to justify everything. If I do something I can't explain, or say something I might not like, or think that a person might not like it, I try to justify it with some kind of reasoning. Such as, "It's poetic" or "sounds pretty" or "be worth is someday."

I just want to be understood, and I want to understand you. Can you not hear the gentle bass of the Milky Way galaxy, slowly turning, and us, a virus, an atom, a quantum, a tinny tinny thing doing silly boring things like brushing our teeth, walking, reading, writing, doing things we don't understand, doing things we can't understand, being in love, being out of it, eating candy, having ***, giving ***, doing homework, cleaning, worrying, eating more candy, drawing pictures, thinking, holding, creating, destroying, recycling, creating destroying, recycling, creating, destroying, recycling, can we do nothing else?

Turn, world, turn, sun, around in a slow beautiful bbbbbmmmmmm....
you are so beautiful!
Hands that know what to do,
feet that say things and tell you that life is precious and nothing is funny. Beautiful!
Life is so serious. We do things that are VAIN. To be vain means to do things which have no good purpose. We wash things so they are clean only to make them ***** again.

A man will, in winter, put his heavy coat on, zip up the zipper, pick up a hat and smooth it on to his head across his hair, then, take his left glove and put it on his left hand and take his right glove and put it on his right hand, put his left sock on his left foot, then put his right sock on his right foot, next he puts his left boot on his left foot and puts his right boot on his right foot, he reaches over and tightens the laces of the left boot then makes an "X" with the laces and puts the end of the right most facing lace under the left most and sticks it through the hole and pulls them tight to create a knot, next he creates a long ear-shape like that of a bunny using the right lace and wraps the left lace around counter-clockwise, next he sticks the sideways left lace through the passage that was created by looping the lace around, creating another ear, then he tightens both ears, he makes another "X" with the ears and loops the right most ear under and trough the hole, then tightens them by a process called "double knotting." He then takes this process of double knotting and applies it to his right boot. He stands up and goes to the front door, walks down the driveway and goes into his heated van so he can drive to his temperature controlled desk job. We are creatures of habit. We do the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and ov.......&...^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&...

I'm tryin' to teach a chair how to walk,
they have legs, but they just can't use 'em.

Act I
Scene I
Enter: James, I, thou, her, it, us, him and God.

Me: It's breaking me apart.

Exeunt.

hearts trembled,
and the hyena trembled and
the Jack sighed and
Breathless was the ground.

She comes and goes
And comes and goes around.

Her foot is the dawn redawning.

The splintered night called us vain, and we let it!
We cried, "TAKE US, WE ARE WEAK! We are empty."
There was nothing left of us but stones and rustic anthologies of our sinful pasts.

"Please take us! We can find nothing..., I mean, NOTHING worth living for."
"You dreadful, dreadful dadaist. You simply are missing some Rimbaud in yr life."
"What? Do you want me to rediscover something, eh!? So this is what it's come to, bohemian cliches and worthless dramatic lingo... You know what I think!!? I think Drama can go take a long walk off a short pier!!! My infatuation with love is dead. I was head over heels but now she sleeps with the fishes. That isn't drama, that's the truth."

I've kept it inside too long,
too long have I silenced it.
I will explode, like a carbon bomb,
explosive tissue and bleating stars,
radioactive skin cells, crawling with energy,
the speed of light rolling through my veins,
like thunder in an Amazonian
night, cruxed with the finagling sunlight,
calling some nirvana-esque hipster
to forsake her existence,
picking flowers in the garden of
forever, checking the checkerboard
kitchen, black blood in the conducive mind,
******* out the poison of
coincidence, laying out a spider
without laughter, in the vague
definition of inevitable non-existance,
teach me! TEACH ME!
OH GOD TEACH ME, I AM
OPEN! I WANT TO KNOW!
But oh how I know! oh how the stones will cry!
O! how they will ululate in the night,
screech the keys upon their wooden airy instruments,  
scream with all the effort of a Stradivarius,
O! the noises they will make---
if we do not.

Isn't it fun when we talk about love in such hollow ways?
The verbal fax: vishnu and gone.
My mountains move and the weak boggles himself with the strong.
"I am better."
"No you're not."
"You're taking your opinions as facts."
I said it.
GOD I WISH I WOULD HAVE JUST SAID IT!!!
It wasn't him, it was you, all I understand is all I understand!
Don't you get it? Are you even listening?
If you can't see me, I can't see you!

The ALS kid is carted off to his symphony in the sky:
The death of the nimbus is shown to the moving mountains of our hearts.

Yet I continue lying.

Did you even know I was?
I'm good at that, I'm good at that.
I don't tell people, because I didn't know. I don't know, because I don't know, ya know, and 0-3-0- and furthermore, 5-8-5-3-1-0! I said, 5-8-5-3-1-0! 585310!! R U that dumb?

"Oh..., ohhh, don't say it. Please don't, oh god I don't like it!
Oh we are so equal, do not feel so gone! Like esperity, gone!!"
"Prosperity is my esperity, don't you know? You are more icy than I! You are so ivory, and cold like dead dry ice.




                                                        ­                    I let it go----
I let it fall between here and Hades, I let it go.
How could I, man?
Jeez, I can't get any sleep around here for the cold anti-antiannihilators and the bomb suckers. I like ropes, ya know? They smooth me!
f(x)=sin(x), f'(x)=cos(x), f''(x)= -sin(x), f'''(x)= -cos(x), f4(x)=sin(x),............f4n(x)=sin(x)........................ for eternity mate.
Even a set can contain itself! I'm totally insane! I mean, JEEZ! I try hard to keep my sanity, I surprise myself and tell myself things you don't like.

We are all barnyard animals.

Here's a serious poem, about serious issues and serious people.
I feel wrong. I have amnesia and short term memory loss. Everything that creepeth, creepeth forward. I come to myself in time of need. Alas, he knows my name! I laugh at/ oh muse sing through me:

y =  x3+x2+x+1
y' = 3x2+2x+1
y'' = 6x+2
y''' = 6
y4 = 0
y5=0
y6=00
y7=000
y8=00000
y9=00000000000000000000000000000!!!!­!!!!
it's just ZERO, forever...forever, it's just zero.

"Get your head into the clouds! It's the 25th century! We don't live in the stone age!" -The Dystopia Daily.

"The media turned me gay!" -The media.

"Let's away..." -Mr. ***** joke.

"My season in hell wasn't quite so festive." -Rheumatoid Arthritis Rimbaud.

"They've eradicated anticulture, tossed it away like a fistful of dead roses." -Guy Fawkes.

"The imperfectly perfect subgenres are becoming very popular..." -the sad informist.

"Well, it's just that when everyone is the same, that's my chance to be different. Scrooge was on to  something." -The Narcissist.

"Persistence can change failure into extraordinary achievement." -Matt Biondi

I hate nostalgia. I wanna grow up in NYC and never have to worry about history, just live in the now and die at the age of 35 and at the hands of myself. There's a lot to be learn't. Of course, that doesn't really matter, since I know everything. What?! Does that surprise you? Well it should because if I knew everything, why would i waste my time writing nonsense crap poetry? The answer is simple: isn't the whole of deep philosophical and religious thought just nonsense crap poetry? All the all-knowing knows is to write such words, scribing ancient runes upon the shadows of empty caves, and all the unknowing can do is laugh. But I have to hand it to them- it is pretty funny.  

Some proverbs:

Love is a thousand speechless monkeys that can do nothing but play the harp.

Roses have thorns for one reason and one reason only: they don't want to be picked.

Blue paint is not always blue.

cout << "morality" << endl; // thats you
getch(); // its all it takes

for(int life=80;life=0;life--)
{
cout <<"Breath" << endl;

}

//I love you

Maybe I wasn't born in the right era,
Maybe I wasn't born in the right world.

Maybe I'm the kind of person that shoots up schools,
Maybe I'm the kind of person that would **** a child.

Maybe I'm the type that kills themselves,
Maybe I just want attention.

But what the **** would I do once I had it?
Shout the golden rule?
Tell a nice story?
Give praise to God?

I mean, I've had a relatively nice life,
so I don't know what the hell I have
to complain about.

"Things have gotten really out of hand since the flaw,"
"in a room without a floor you will always be falling."

Be yourself,
Through yourself;
No other medium is quite as effective.
Profound things just bleed through me, like I'm an open casket,
and you're the sun.
I am... I need... I want....
Analyze, Analyze, ****...
Looking, I found,
Finding, I learned,
Learning, I forgot,
Forgetting, I loved,
Loving, I remembered...

From start to finish I will
forever be a dim-wit
mavrit, talkin' like I'm over-it,
singin' like a hypocrit and thinkin' like a god.

I remember the yellow that shaped me,
the 70 sheets of paper that say, "READ ME."
We all wish to be red.

Every memory, all at once.
Everywhere, all at once.
There I met you and you were in everything.

I wanted to rip you apart.
I threw you against the wall.
I wanted to make love, but you disappeared.

And everywhere I went you were there.
I would touch you, and then it would fade.
I missed you, and could not escape you.

You were prettier than Amaterasu.
Glorious, August, Torrential, you were rain.
Izanami, Izanagi, one.

WHAT      iiiiiiiiiiii         sssssss    
                          i               s
                          i                sssssss
                          i                          s
                     iiiiiiiiiii        ssssssss  
                                          
BEAUTY?


I don't vent,
I beg the truth!

Seriously!
Beauty amazes me!

There are women that just
utterly impress me!

"I   WISH    I   COULD   DRAW"

Isay, as if art is simply historical record.

I "see" her, but i don't see her.

There is a faint glowing light in the dark pious,
the folk hymn in the rain and the
cosmopolitan freak-show.

Reminder:
She is the candle's cathedral
And she is the artificially purple
love-all, be-all.

Everyday, I wish upon every star, as to give me the imagination and courage to write about beauty. All I can say is, I  DON'T  KNOW. I really REALLY wanted to, but now i'm not so sure. I wish i knew that i wanted to know, but i don't, and i never will.

Such as is this sense sacred, and i wouldn't DARE describe it...

Ye who are quick to the mouth;
Fall into desperation,
For silence is the key to our revolutions.

Science is dead.

the sink runs mud, a clarity I won't understate.
the splatering, sputtering on the porcelain, sloshing, guttural pain.
on a canvas the paint is truth, on the wall it is deceit.

the bed is a springboard for great ideas.
the romances that die, the 8 hour shifts of bottled eternity.
I am haunted by this sentiment daily.

on the windy beach, the ears and hair, a flag flapping.
cool, dark, the moon like Juliet's eyes.
over the grand ocean of unknown language.

i reach over and grab the gun.
i will go out with a bang while Eve is away.
then sunrise sets still forever

Your crucifix finger tips,
touch the hems of faith,
rub on hope and hopelessness.

I saw you there, I kept the image in my mind, to feed my despair,
And your hair...
The freckles on your shoulders.
Your smell, your legs, like there were noplace and someplace, bulky and warm like Christmas at the bottom of life where everything was naked.

I carried my heart in yours.
You were the rainy-sun-danse, a novelty in a stormy-wood-wroten-backwoods. Indiana suburban mythology dictated of such a fair maiden, one born of wild disparity, from the family of spiritual cynics. I've come to admire you, that much I know. A mouth divided like Africa, arbitrarily and in a fit of greed, like a hispanic german jew, flouting her sensuality, folded harmony, sweet, messy, youthful, rude, a symbol.

You're my everything and I don't know why, two days gone and I was in so much pain, I figured nothing out.
If I were really inlove with you, you'd be inlove too.
And I love you,
therefore you love me too.