I cut and slash and rage at your picture. I kindle fire to do great harm in anger. My heart breaks in a thousand pieces and the blood runs red from my wrist. The scars that you can see are not as deep as the ones on the wounds that you cannot see. My heart is cut deeper than my wrist or your picture. Was I not good enough for you, was I not pretty enough. Did not love you enough. What made you turn my passionate love for you into a violent hate that wants to consume me at the same time drives me to long for you to even use me again, for being used by you is better than not being with you at all.

People and fish are not so different. We both live in a pond. Fish live in a pond filled with Lilly pads and moss and people live in a pond of their surroundings. People walk around with their mouths moving but often do not say a whole lot that makes sense. A fish moves it mouth but doesn't say a whole lot either. People can be hooked into a scheme or idea, just like a fish can be hooked with the right bait. People may spend lots of time in a school but learn very little that is useful. Fish also gather for school but they to often learn very little. A fish can be slimy and smell bad, so can humans but in a different sort of way. So when you think about it, we are not so different, humans and the fish.

When I see her walk in the morning light, I am lost from this world. When I lay beside her, I cannot breathe for fear that I will awake from a dream. When she touches me, I lose all sense of time, for that moment is all that exist. When I hear her speak, my heart skips a beat. When she says I love only you, I crumble inside. No one knows what she truly does to me.

When all seems lost and it appears humanity will fail, one person can be a beacon to stir up the soul. It isn't always the great leaders that move people to do great things, but the solitary giving of hope through mercy that is the inspiration that brings miracles to pass.

From the first moment we set out on our own, we begin a journey of learning. While we may think that we are the student, the exact opposite is actually true. Though we may have much to discover, and many lessons to learn. There is always someone behind us in need of guidance and direction. When we master something, even the ability to care, we become teachers to others when we share what we have learned. If you show someone how to help and smile, a lesson has been taught. Being kind in the face of adversity can be a lesson passed on without even our being aware. There are so many things that each of us knows, and our actions make us teachers for good or ill. So it is up to us to give the object lessons that we ourselves would want others to teach us. By doing so, we are teachers.

Digging into the earth and pulling out the iron. Sweat and muscle break rock and dirt. Coals are lain into the forge and the raw iron is poured into the Orange hole. Billows are pressed and Orange becomes White, as heat is poured out of the furnace like a devils breath. Slowly, the raw metal is purified. All the impurities rise to the top and are scraped away. Then the molten liquid is poured into the earthen mold. It cools slowly until it is bright glowing Orange. Then the master smith picks up his hammer as his apprentice holds the fiery billet in place. The sound of the bell chimes each time the hammer falls, striking against the hot burning metal. The chorus is performed and then repeated. Each time the fire heats the metal, and each time the hammer falls. The imperfections are driven out and the smith's hand begins to draw out the soul of the metal. From iron to steel the metal is formed. Taking shape with the hand of the master wielding the hammer, until that which was buried in the heart of the earth begins to glisten and shine. With each step that which was formless gains an edge. Sharpness is drawn out of the metal until the blade appears. Waiting for the hand of the person who will wield it and call it their own.

Towers of steel and glass melt away and fade into history. The land of the free is not so free after all. Making a phone call has become an act of suspicion. When did our nation fall? What made us great has been undone, regulations and restrictions are placed on free speech. The right to agree to disagree has been replaced with interrogations and political correctness. Why can't I just say what I feel? America once was a melting *** ,now it must melts into oblivion. The courage that once made the nation feared by its enemies has been replaced by complacency and apathy. No enemy has harmed us from without, it is the fires from with in that bring us down. Social division and strife have erupted into fires of censorship and persecution that are leading to the burning of America from within.

What would you give to help another. What would you live without to save a friend. Would you forsake one year of your life to save the life of a stranger. What is the life of another worth to you. What is the cost to give a second chance. What price would you place on mercy. What is the cost you would pay to bring another person hope. What would you be willing to give.

I have on two different socks and my shoes don't match. I left my coffee cup on top of my car and I can't get to work on time for a month. My boss wants to give me a drug test, my mother thinks I am sick. My coworkers are not sure what the problem is. I fumble in my speech and I day dream a lot. I must admit, I have thought that I am coming down with something myself. Then the clock rolls to 5 pm and my sanity returns. I am focused and alert, for I have a pressing engagement that I must attend to. Moving through traffic like some futuristic machine, I make it home in record time. There to find a wonderful girl waiting for me. The truth be told, I am not mad I am just in love.

Drill, Drill, Drill is all that you hear. Turn on any television an it echoes like a broken recording. More, more , more is what they cry. As sharp needles pierce the surface of the earth, drawing out it's life's blood in the name of society. No matter what stands in the way, it can be removed. Mountains are torn down, forest are leveled and families displaced all in the pursuit of more. When all that is needed can be made in a factory, there is no need to tear up the surface of the earth. Trees need not be cut down and holes need not be pierced in the ground. Plants that we can grow and sun that shines can give us more than our share. Until we stop and listen to what the earth has to say, we will continue to let it bleed to satisfy our materialist needs.

Ties for Christmas, boxes of fruit cake, and ugly sweaters galore. The list I have kept for many years now I will keep it no more. It is time to give back to many people at last. To each person who ever thought of the tie, I re-gift just not the same one to the same guy. For all of the sweaters that I could never wear, I have kept them tucked away with great care. Back to a like minded sender they go. I will enjoy watching people try them on you know! For the numerous fruit cakes that resulted in many gym trips, I return twice the confections in their place. Oh how merry I will be watching others pack on the pounds with glee. Finally after all of these years, I will be vindicated you see . People will wonder why oh why, did I give such things that one should not buy. That is the point exactly, with each thoughtfully thoughtless gift. The gifts from the mad guy beware, perhaps you are on his list.

Love has no agenda, it sees no racial lines. When two hearts cross each other all things become invisible. Only the joy of finding another of like passion is known. Crowns are forsaken, families are denied and positions are forgotten all because love knows no lines.

Run your hands over my body, make me scream. Bite me and pinch me in places that give me pain. Pull my hair and make me beg. Turn me over and give my *** a smack. Force me to bend down for you and tell you I like it. Use me for what ever turns you on. I am not a good girl, I want to be used. I am not your mothers choice, I have nothing to lose. I like it when you make me squeal and cause me a little pain. What I call having fun, others call depraved.

I was out walking when I saw an old woman. She was walking with a cane. When I started to speak to her, I saw that as he had a child by the hand . she was comforting the little one and telling them it would be ok. I was looking at the news just the other day,when I saw the most amazing thing. Children were out singing at an old folks home, and took the time to pray. I could swear that in the back ground I saw an old woman but this time she had no cane. She just looked at me and smiled, then in a blink, she was gone from the scene. Though I can't prove it, I'm sure she was an angel, even though I never saw her wings.

A gun needs a bullet and a hand to hold it, the gun never killed anyone on it's own. Only when we pick it up in anger or as a means to an end does a gun become lethal. It is not the gun but the user that actually kills.

Holding the knife as I lick the blade. I think it is sharp enough. I slice a piece of paper and listen to the sound with my eyes closed. I rub the cool steel blade along my wrist. I look as the veins pulse. I wonder how long it hurts, I wonder how the flowing blood feels. I am not sure if I will do it just yet. I am still undecided. Each day I sharpen the blade, each day I contemplate make the cut. I only know that if I decide to do it, I will cut it long ways.

My graduation was a smashing success and my diploma looks good on my wall. Now I have to wake up when ever my boss decides to call. Sleeping in is not an option, I am always on the clock. I wanted to be on my own, now I wish I could go back to school. I studied for 4 years and only partied a little. I thought it was only 9 to 5 but its more like daylight to the next sunrise. I never see my friends anymore, they have their own lives. My old roommate has twins and has forgotten what it is to sleep. I am not far behind because I work just to eat. So when I do get a day off, my parents want me to stop by. My mother has a dozen errands for me and my dad wants me to mow the lawn. I think I will just go back to work, at least I get paid for being hassled there. Who new life would be so hard, oh wait I must have missed that class. Welcome to reality my dad once said, yeah pop its a real blast.

If I give someone a dollar, and they buy something to eat. They will not be hungry. If I pray for someone and God blesses them, they may prosper and help another. If I show a stranger kindness, then they pass it on, a chain of humanity is formed. In all of these things there are unseen effects to the simplest of things that we can do for one another.

You who are tired and long for release. Come unto the fold and know Gods peace. Hear the words of salvation, find your rest. Know that there is peace at last. The journey has been long and the burdens have been many. Lay down your past mistakes and be refreshed in spirit. Know the father will renew your soul and give you a new start. Oh weary soul, give up your sins and open your heart. Lay your guilt all upon him. Let God give you a new beginning. Ask for his mercy and find forgiveness for your sins. Oh weary soul please come.

The air is cold and the lights are dim. Even in the coolness of the early morning, my palms sweat. I pull the blade from it's sheath and begin the ritual. Scrape goes the blade over the sharpening stone. Scratch goes the blade over the honing stone. An action repeated equally on both edges of the knife. Honing the blade to a glistening edge. One blade after another, until they are all perfectly sharpened. I look at my victims laid out in a specific order. I can see the veins and their limbs as they wait for me. I move my sharpened cutlery to where my victims lay. With each precision cut I spill their blood and juices. One by one they are precisely cut. I begin to tear up as I am splattered by the juices from them. My hands are stained red with their life's blood. As quickly as the carnage begins, so it ends. The vegetable are set aside and made ready for my kitchen and the making of the days fare.

Crystal spheres float around me and are filled with tiny rainbows. Suds drown my sorrows and fizz when I drink. Music plays and light flashes through different soapy creations that float out of a machine meant to delight and entertain. A child blows into a plastic circle and pretty jewels form in odd shapes and rise on the wind. Something so simple as a bubble that can bring so much joy and excitement just makes good sense.

In his will I will be tested. In his will I will face trials. In his will I shall over come. In his will I will find safe haven. In his will I will know triumph. In his will I shall find guidance. In his will I will be made as gold and silver purified in the fire. In his will all things will be possible. In Gods will I shall prevail and receive comfort and in the end a crown. So though I must walk a straight path and sometimes stumble, I know that I will find forgiveness and loving kindness in his will.

I sit idle against the wall and look out a dingy window. In my ear I hear a small voice, it says I told you my way is easier. I shake my head and close my eyes only to see darkness flooded with pail colorful dots that look like the prelude to an old movie. Then images flood in of past mistakes and wrong turns. I try to move but I lack the strength. I open my eyes again and the voice says, it is inevitable. I look at my arm filled with track marks and see a spent needle in the corner. I can feel my heart beating faster as I begin to float away. I roll over and climb onto my bed as best I can. Looking up at the ceiling, I hear the faint whisper say just a little more. As I begin to become lost in a dream, I hear the whisper become a roar. I hear the rush of my blood coursing through my veins, the thundering of my heart, thump, thump thump, then the deafening silence. Suddenly, I see the whisperer reaching out to me. The cold dark fingers grasping my life and pulling it away from my body. Then a blinding white light fills my eyes and I feel the lightning rush through my chest. My veins are on fire as the doctor puts the injection in. The silences is gone as I watch the dark hand fade back into the nothingness. Death whispers to me, perhaps not yet, but I have time to wait.

Let the vision of God be not blinded nor his hearing deaf. Let your hand oh lord be ever strong. Look at those who strive with your servants and call them into question. Remember the persecution of your children. Keep watch over your chosen and bring them peace. Give mercy where it is due and judgment where it is required. Be long suffering and forgiving, but bring justice to those who suffer persecution. I seek you oh lord to avenge me on those who are against me.

The flowers of the field are adorned in great beauty and the Sparrows want not for a seed to eat. I am of great value and yet I doubt what I cannot see. In truth all things are not my own, I only borrow them for a little while. Each sunrise and sunset is a masterpiece, we just fail to see it. All things are made ever present and all that I will require is waiting for me. From the time that I take my rest until the sun rises again, God knows my needs.

The light has faded from the sky and dark clouds have blocked out the heavens. The streets are filled with waste and buildings have been abandoned. Hope is missing from those who are left, despair can be seen in the faces that peer out from broken windows. The wealth of the land has been stripped away and poverty is all that remains. Justice is a  myth that it talked about in bedtime stories and brutality and want are all too real. In cities across the land this is the stark reality and a resounding truth. A once vibrant kingdom has become nothing more than a dark foreboding land.

When I enter through the gates of Pearl and walk upon streets of God, I will no more have any sorrow. I will see the wonders of Heaven and behold the angels band. I will see the ageless saints and Son of Man. Around the throne of eternity where the lamb shall reign, I will join the redeemed in singing his praises with no end. Despite all of the wonder and the streets made of Gold, it is their maker that I cannot wait to behold.

Microscopic specks on a pile of dirt. Rushing around reshaping their world. Never quite satisfied with their environment, always making changes. Looked at under a magnifying glass, they seem kind of ugly. Not sure of some things, seemingly too sure of others. The work as a singular unit, directed by some unseen need. Generations come and go, yet nothing of their basest selves seems to change. Always the same, scurrying around digging holes and making changes. Aren't humans the most curious creatures, if only we were more orderly like Ants in a farm?

The world looks for the creator of all things, but cannot see God. Many people talk about God , but don't live what they teach. There is enough misery and suffering in the world to make us wonder where God is. Yet it is in the most obvious and unlikely places that we find God.

The sea of people churns like violent winds. They have no direction but run everywhere. Seeking anything that will give peace to their souls, they are without a set course. All who seek rest from the peace of God sail a crooked course. If we reject his peace, though we think we are at rest, we are never satisfied with the things of the world.

I put on airs and comb my hair. I dress to impress and speak so eloquently. I practice my smile for hours and keep up with the latest styles. I know all of the latest trends and I can listen to nothing intently for hours. I project the perfect appearance of what the world calls success, yet I feel no happiness, no only self pity and regret. Though I have put on the outer shell of what I think will make me happy, the truth is I am only hiding from myself.

Take up our cause and fight for what is yours, says the despot as he sits in his sanctuary. Our national sovereignty is threatened he cries, as he rallies the masses into a tizzy and then a frenzy of zealous ideals, half of which the normal person does not understand. Yesterday there was plenty and now there is not enough says the so called supreme leader and his council. How funny it is that we ate bread yesterday and there is bread to eat today, so what lack is he speaking of? Still, he rambles on and grumbles about what our neighbors have that we do not, all the while he and his idea logs get rich off of plunder and spoil. Some stand up in dissent, and they are called unpatriotic, or traitorous, simply because they want to know why they should be angered and what they will be fighting for? So on goes the despot raving about what we have lost or do not have, while he yet craves more power than he already has. So to what end does he bring his nation and his people to ruin, only for an ideal that he alone understands.

The orator speaks as the masses run towards the flame. Not the light of knowledge, but the radiant beacon of ignorance. The masses embrace the false comfort of surrender as they bask in the light. Life is too hard and we must not think for ourselves. Release us from responsibility they cry, give us our desires and protect us as we give up bits of our freedom for false security. Many are mesurized by the hypnotic words of the Sphengali's that promise them everything, but deliver little. The fault of your life is too much freedom surrender and be at ease. To those who go willingly the dissenter are the obstacle that must be overcome. As the mass delusion carries the masses to their doom, some struggle against the light of ignorance, but in what seems a futile fight. The curtain begins to fall on freedom as democracy is replaced with lies. So goes the book of liberty as the chapter of the script of ignorance heralds the end of a story as freedom is closed out of the scene.

Tatters of reality lay at my feet. What used to be is now incomplete. I lay on the floor wretched and undone. My emotions are rippedto shreds as I wait for what comes next. Gaping wounds let my soul bleed out. Tears run like rain to the rivers. I am awash in misery and emotional turmoil. I feel as if the ocean has welled up inside of me. I do not know where to go from here. I sit at the bottom of a well of despair. Perhaps I will just lie here until my feelings have all been drained, then I may have the strength to climb back out again. I hope one day to again see the sun, I may yet survive the things that have been done. My love was shattered by you without a second thought, how could you leave me this way. Just sitting here with my life broken into pieces.

Let me show you a vision, let me tell you of many things. Look inside my mind and see where dreams come from. Peer into the snowy garden, look at the summer rain. See the world as I see it, watch it ever change. Hear the bird songs that inspire me. Come to grips with agony and pain. See the world as it really  is and not as you would like it to be. Walk on the beaten path, and travel the forgotten road with me. Sit under the shade tree, and watch the changing of the leaves. Take a moonlight stroll on a beach and know a lovers embrace. Hold the hand of a hurting child and wipe the tears from the gentle face. Dance with Unicorns in a Willow grove, with fairies all around. See the sun set in the East and watch the moon come down. See from behind my eyes all the wonder you can imagine. Broken hearts and forgotten dreams waiting to come from the end of my pen. Wake me when there is no color in the world, and I will fill in the blank slate. I will dare to be a voice of imagination, I will fill the empty space. My visions are my own but I wish to let the world see them, as I do. I live in a poets dream everyday, how does the world appear to you?

A vacant lot has been taken over by people in rubber boots. The asphalt is being torn up and the earth beneath gets to see sunlight for the first time in years. Seeds are being sewn in neighborhoods without the governments help. People are taking charge of their own lives. The air is becoming cleaner and neighbors are working together again. Children get their hands ***** and learn what a garden is. No more is it a place where a lone farmer grows our food, but a place of unity that builds a community and breaks down barriers and abates fear as it helps people learn to live together again.

I thought I had a handle on my situation, then children came and I ended up in total confusion. While they are copies of me, I now know what my mother meant about me. I could not have been this bad, not in a million years, that is just plain sad. Now I am paying for my sins in spades, I am imprisoned in my own warped reality. What I thought was a life plan was merely a simple suggestion. I have no concept of life or sleep. How long this goes on I am not sure? If anyone knows where the exit is, please tell me now. I am trapped in an endless cycle of insanity. How does one become trapped in their own life anyway?

In a life well lived with not any particular care, I was brought to a sudden halt, by the girl with the Auburn hair. In one awkward moment, all of my intellect failed me. My heart lost it's rhythm and I could not speak. Time slowed to a crawl when I saw her green eyes and warm gentle smile. Something told me to stop and stare for a little while. All of the birds stopped singing and the sun would not move, the day my world stood still because of the love I felt for you.

I have many imperfections and faults to my credit. I have little in the way of perfection. I am often temperamental and judgmental. I put on airs but I am really insecure. Despite what I may accomplish, I am sometimes unsure of myself. I want to do better, I just don't know where to start? What I should work on first is an utter mystery to me. I can be moody and often times insufferable. If I do form a true friendship, I will likely find a way to mess it up. Despite all that I am not, I am a work in progress. I am human.

Howling and beying, pulled in among the thorns. The prickly Breyers scratch and cut an unsuspecting Hound that's caught in a rut. Chasing that brown rabbit through a meadow and the grassy field. The rabbit scampers safely into a Briar Patch that will not yield. The Relentless Hound backs out, a skin full of pricker Breyers but none the worse for wear. The dog just sits and beys as the rabbits off laughing somewhere.

In my closet, I have racks of clothes. Some of them I can't wear and some I don't even know where they are from. I clean it out yearly, but much to my surprise, it fills back on it's own, I swear the clothes just multiply. So this year I will do something different than I did last spring. When the weather changes I will get rid of everything. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I have quiet an ingenious plan. I will just by a whole new wardrobe and then I can begin again. I can keep track of my clothing and it won't have a chance to multiply. So I must get started cleaning for a new wardrobe I can buy.

The Autum leaves are falling as I watch the children play, I hear their joyful laughter and I have to turn away. for a moment of sweet pleasure becomes a heart filled with pain as I slowly remember one year ago today.
One year ago today I looked into your eyes. You said it was over, then you said goodbye.
I saw an end to our perfect love as you left me dying inside. I cried as you were leaving and still you went away and left me with a broke heart one year ago today.
I sit in our empty bedroom and look at our pictures sitting on a dusty shelf. I try to remember how happy we were before you went away, before you left me crying one year ago today.
I pull myself together like every other day. I wipe away the tears that run down my face. I put your memory away. and in my heart I pray that time will heal my pain that doesn't seem to go away, the pain of your leaving me, one year ago today.

Dew drops fall upon radiant skin, as the morning light breaks the horizon. I lay between supple breast content in lifes rapture. After the veil of night wrapped us in it's shroud, our passion was as a brief burning star. Now that I have walked in your fertile garden and planted a seed, I am comforted in your arms. Skin on skin our bodied share a radiant glow. All of my burdens have melted away and you are now my only desire. In a few brief moments, we have torn down all barriers and you have become the vessel of our future. So as I lay with you, I listen to you breathe as life takes hold from heated passion, as the morning gives way to day, all I know is that I am where I long to be, simply in love with you.

Ring, ring , ring toll the bells. Ring to herald the warning of what has come. The bells have tolled and declare the judgment. The bells toll for those who would not listen. Apathy took hold and the eye was dimmed and the ear refused to hear, now see the wrath of the indifference. Ring, ring the bells toll for thee. Oh foolish leader who would not heed the warnings. Now your land is stained with blood and you are mocked to scorn by your enemies. Ring, ring, ring; now toll the bells for judgment is at hand.

Fiery darts fall all around you as arrows fly at you. Slings with stones of innuendo are flung at you, yet you remain calm. Trouble seeks to undermine you at every turn, as land mines of hate explode with each misstep. Through it all you hold your resolve, under the microscope you remain undaunted. A heart of bold intent and a resilient spirit that cannot be shattered, this is courage under fire.

If by one act of kindness, you could save a life, would you do another with it. If by one gesture you could turn despair into hope, would you live each day as hopeful as you could? To save one life does not take great courage, it only takes the will to help. When you see a person who is almost at there end, an act of kindness or a show of support can give new found strength and hope. This simple thing can save one life that can touch many more.

From black smoke that fills the skies to rivers that run orange as pumpkin juice. Nature is being torn apart at the seems. Birds fall from the sky and bee colonies fail. One day it is burning hot and the next it is freezing cold. Trees will not bear fruit, and the fish float in our lakes. What shall we inherit if we poison our world. What legacy shall we leave behind.

I see a new day before me. I see an opportunity for good things. I can choose good or bad  the decision is mine. So my choices now will affect my tomorrow. Let me do right and not wrong. Let me be a hope for today.

You pass by me each day, you don't notice me. I walk among the crowded streets, but I am invisible. I want to be noticed sometimes, but others I want to be left alone. When the wrong person pays attention, they don't understand me. I just want to fit in. I am different they say, I just think I am normal for me. I am the homeless, the hopeless, the mentally ill. I just want a place to fit in. I just want to stop being unseen.

Massive monuments arise from the landscape. Arches and grand structures are cut from stone. A mortal presence conceives a plan to live forever and in an instance, their memory is gone from remembrance. Treasure is amassed and wealth beyond measure is laid out before princes and kings, only to be looted by another when they expire. Folly is the way of man, seeking grandeur and self importance. Try as we might as mortals are toils are in vain. From generation to generation we learn nothing and the lessons still remain. Looking back into history the here and now lends itself to instruction but never hearing or seeing we learn nothing. History is a broken record of repeated attempts at immortality that fail miserably. Books are written and names are carved in stone only to be eaten by moths and eroded by the winds of change. Despite all of our achievements, it is still amazing what we fail to learn.