I heard the cries of those that had been
here so long ago, cradled in a maddening
place, fathered in deranged love, but they
clasped on the lingering echoes that was
consummated into  a yearning of pain.

Like orphans of death they stemmed from
petals tears absconded upon silent air.
Bleeding inwards they consumed themselves
devouring the darkness within till a frail
echo was left of pearly shards shattering below.

What can be seen when we look within someone?
so many played on these words, where breath
escaped so did the foetal yearning of lingering
life now excavated with each greeting to their
insides now looked upon in confused amazement.

Can you hear the screams of the dead they assign
others to join them in the pleasure of unbridled
bliss. In the maddening of this place a few lucid
thoughts speak forth, momentarily as others not
wishing these words cleft, dissect tongue from mouth.

This place where no one sleeps even in death, silently
wailing in deafening shouts. But they are heard, that
is what the constant chatter of these poor souls mumblings
are dissected from. A circle of deranged figures
feeding the fires of either , can you hear them screaming.

Could I see in their eyes, as I clean up this momentary
lusting, for their inner demons to released this way.
I had visions of them shouting "4,

That was going to need a ladder and I hate heights.
Well up I went in slow motion, I saw the spaces between the
claret splashes in frozen moments of nothing. Now just a coat
cold and unwarming. From up here it looked like an
abstract painting I called it "echoes of relentless madness,

It was another call out this place off a million lights  
only a fraction were braking into havocs grasp. But when
their final instant came, till it was a single moment or an
eternity in seconds, the end result was the same.

I wore a fresh suit, each being deflowered within
moments. Others lives were centimetres from mine.
They were with me through out these moments, then I
threw them in the bin like a one night stand. I left them
behind , no reason to remember names.

This  one was different, the other one was just like a
water balloon of finest red had been tossed around the
room, this one...  Charred shadows of where like a wick
They had become a light in the darkness and consumed.

Not as much blood, just dry lumps of god knows what.
I breathed quickly, a hand print on the table slightly
scorched, but the hand print still visible reaching out.

This was more a scrap and polish like cleaning spilt
cheese now carbonized on the bottom of the grill.
A hot mind is not a good thing specially when a vent
of release givesthis pressure a release. I look at it and
think to myself? I called this one "charred thoughts ascending,

I once again leave them behind, this is beyond the
ordinary job. Knocking off for lunch i see the next
piece off where my work will take me. I see them
walking and in quietened haste I lunge and inflict a
flesh wound so some may think, but an artery I have nicked .

So gently I  grazed, wouldn't want then to bleed too quick
or to slowly for that matter. I abscond in my van, knowning
the call will not be long versed just another clean up
so many in this city of lights where I calmly change
each one. As to be repetitive there is no art form in that.

To be a cleaner and to see art where others only see death
or tears. I see a deeper visions the latest in the collection
I called them "Life running dry, this was an easy clean
up, but ill have to give it a rest i earned enough from the
clean ups to sit back and watch the world move by.

Till next my artistry is mused I will think of others that
have twerked my needing a suit hangs up, each with
the name of that creation. I can admire them anytime,
and just think of the anticipation that was needed for this
depiction of my thoughts and how they bled out.

You wish for diluted darkness to smear away
the hiding place of other words, are we scared
sir, madam, does the night sky bother you,
are we a little afraid? Well don't worry ill only
lock you in their for a little while.

Till your eyes get devoured by my words then you'll
see as I do, can you see the words no understand
what they weave inwards and out, are you scared
sir madam, you should fear me in the light not
the opposite because that's when I see you.

Hide in the darkness linger just a while see
what it means to pen words in the abyss,
and understand what I'm talking about...
Do you see them madam, sir, they know
you see what I see, and there afaid to come out.

When we and the world, take pleasure in peace
When we, wars and persecutions cease

When we, overcome hatred, torture and pain
When we, vow to never, use them again

When we, can look at each other, face to face
When we, can see no disability, no colour, no race

When we, love our neighbors, like our own daughter
When we, let our hearts become pure, like a babes in her mother

When we, rejoice in the good fortune of others
When we, acknowledge that we’re sisters and brothers

When we understand, as humans, what we should be
When we, disencumber our souls, set them free

When we, strive to each other uphold
When we, are ready to HIS light behold

When we, let our GODS shine equally bright
When we, trust and believe, in each other’s light

When we, see our lights, merge into one
Then, HE will proclaim, “MY work is done”
BOEMS BY JA 475

I just heard, that Maple Syrup
Will stimulate your brain
It’s those Tau Peptides
That you will then retain

Even though, I have Diabetes
I just can’t wait to start
All that sugar, is bound to **** me
But at least, I should die smart
WIZDUMB BY JA 668

The Garden gives & takes, & I give to & take from the Garden. I was hungry, it gave me fruit. I would only eat it if I agreed to share it. I was thirsty so I drank the water. In return, I gave my life and now I thirst no more. A boy was in the Garden. He believed I was made from his rib, but he was not Adam & I am not Eve. He was inflicted by poison, & I gave everything I could to help him, but I wasn't a cure. I tried to share the fruit, but he refused to take it. One day, something in me had changed. I realized I had lost something important. What was once essential & something that I could do, I could no longer do. I left the Garden for a while, thinking the boy would stay there. I had hoped to never return unless the boy was gone. In my absence, the Garden still gave. I packed some fruit in a sack, & poured water in a bottle, thinking I would get by. Eventually, I knew I would have to go back. I knew I was meant to be there. I had been gone for so long. I've become numb. I came back hoping to see blossomed flowers , to feel the wind blowing, to feel any sort of sensation or awe. The Garden was just as beautiful upon my return as it was before. The boy was finally gone. I knew he wouldn't wait there forever, but now I feel nothing. The tools used to decipher emotions had become corrupt as a result of my heart's malfunction. I either can't feel anything, or I refuse to. I feel as though I have become a machine with no feeling. I sometimes doubt I ever will feel again. In times like these, I go to the Garden. The Garden's fruit gives me energy. The water heals my wounds. I still feel numb, but my life is still indebted to the Garden, & I will continue to press on.