The same song looping over and over…
The same suicidal thoughts torturing my sanity…
Repeats accruing on infinite piles of ruble,
Vigorously fighting these thoughts,
These demons of mentality,
A constant cartwheel of emotion…
Always racing…
Not ceasing for a mere second…
Forcing the pill in my mouth,
And then another,
And another…
The only mental painkiller is death…
I feel numb,
Darkness seeps into my vision…
Blurring reality…
The Pain is going away…
I feel alive as I feel myself die…
Emergency Medical Squads break the door down…
I sit there,
Watching them cycle electricity into my body as I blindly stare,
Eyes not moving,
Weak,
You never came.



I want to tell you I love you until it becomes white noise…
Always knowing I love you,
Never doubting yourself again…
I want to make love until we are one…
My body and yours…
Sharing the night, and day…
Filling senses with pleasure and love…
I want to hold you until you are weightless…
A feather in my arms…
Carry you up to a safe place on a dark night…
I want to love you forever…
I want to love you till stone itself evaporates into the air as it boils underneath the red giant sun…
I want to love you when the Universe rebirths or collapses…
I want to love you when the bell tolls,
The bell does not mark the end,
It will never end,
I will love you always,
Forever,
Not stopping even for a supernova…



No matter how lovely, how vivid, how colorful the painting…
Toxic fumes are given off,
The closer you look the more cracks and flaws you’ll find…
No matter how soft the wood, how elaborate the carving,
You can’t even begin to feel all the splinters…
All the cuts,
The closer you get the deeper the grooves…
This rusty drain has grown clogged of emotion and dust…
Wonderful you say…
But that is just for now,
Today.
My past is dark, dead, rotten,
Who knows if the future will be any different.
Today I have a moment of peace,
You,
A bright blue gem shining in the darkness,
So pure it becomes it’s own light-source,
Echoing beauty throughout the blackness,
Illuminating me,
True Commitment,
Warm and sweet Love,
Unquestionable Trust,
Seraphic Beauty,
Everything I need…
I sit here questioning these words…
Thinking of the purest way to put them,
But emotion is not pure,
It’s *****, rough, and raged,
But when I talk to you that emotion turns into something different,
It turns into satisfying warmth that runs through my body…
The past evaporates into the air,
Dispersing and losing its importance,
You are my future,
Not the past.

Five four three two one,
Fire spews,
Flames violently shoot out of the golden boosters,
Cold ice breaking off the shell,
The white noise fills the air,
The ground shakes with panic,
And liftoff,
The manmade seraph lifts into the sky,
The Golden Flame forcing it further up,
We watch not with excited eyes,
But with sad hearts and long faces,
We know,
We know today is the last day this bird will fly,
We have slain an angel,
We have slain American Patriotism,
We have slain ourselves,
The Space Shuttle may just have been a chemical reaction lifting mass into the sky,
But it let us explore,
It let us discover space,
The bitter, beautiful darkness that surrounds and blankets the planet,
And now we have told her she must die,
Regressive politics turning into a malignancy against mankind,
Killing the Human spirit,
Spreading,
Cancerous tumors mark landforms on the map,
Goodbye,
My Dear Space Shuttle,
My technological love,
You always inspired me,
It's my turn now.

Pale skin drained of blood and life,
Dark hair covered in snow flakes of dead skin,
Voluptuous curves forcing your walk into a limp,
You intoxicate me with your tarnished beauty,
A dusty copper coin aged green,
Lost in a cabinet of old tattered books and decaying heaps of trash,
Crushed paper clotting the corners of the window,
Blocking the sunshine,
Yet through the dust and grime you brought forth infrared light given off from the warmth of your heart,
The creamy red fluid running through your veins,
Ugly or not, you were beautiful,
You were my shining star,
My chase,
But I left that tattered rotting room for one moment,
To open the blinds,
To let the light shine in upon your crusty copper,
But no light came through the window,
In a panic I dusted and dusted,
Trying to free the amorphous glass of the gray particulates,
Someone had switched off the light,
I knew at that moment god was against me,
Turning off the sun in a rage,
Protecting his pure daughter from my tendrils of depression and cold romance,
For when I came back,
Looking for the coin,
It was gone,
Claimed by the man with the candle stick,
Using artificial light to seek her heart,
He was gone in a flash,
Tumbling down the stairs to his steed,
As he raced off into the Marsh...
I tossed myself out the window,
Breaking glass and bone as I slammed into the ground stories below,
Struggling to get up,
Love pushing me,
Yet with everything I had,
Every little last cell and emotion,
His steed was too fast,
The chase was over.

Quick Ways of describing the moon with a poetic aptitude of felicity.

The silver glow struck my eyes, flowing through my body, making me stand in awe underneath itself.

The natural lighthouse guided my way through the haze, releasing my inner imagination.

The white hue echoed through the clouds, lighting up the stagnant air.

The whispy clouds covered the moon in a thin veil, concentrating their efforts on dismissing it's effort to shine.


Quick ways of describing the sun

The fiery ball of death awakened our planet with life, turning fire and flames into rivers and green grass.

The light felt warm against my skin, as I laid there, feeling the warm sun, trying to fathom the vast distances that lied between it and us.

The destroyer of worlds, the hellfire from above, the golden globe of hope and all things that are good, the ambiguous sphere of giving... The Sun

The Sky would not be blue, nor the grass green, nor would the cacophony of cold harsh winds batter against your house, as you sat reverent of the warm sphere, watching it's pubescent sunrise and it's aging sunset, as you behold, the greatness of the sun.


Quick Ways of describing the Universe

The bright stars shined through the sky, escalating man's need to know, to explore, pushing him to release his inner genius and become great.

The firmament sits there, a endless black chalkboard, smeared with nebulae and brushed with black holes, and glittered with stars.

The Earth sat there alone, waiting for consolation, waiting for a spark, and then she opened her eyes, and all the Universe was bestowed upon her, burning beauty into her brain and soul.

Bitter apathy,
Blinding interest,
Blocking Passion,
Binding my hands together,
Bending my thoughts,
Bifurcating my efforts into weaker strings of yarn,
Seeking to cut them one by one,
Apathy in it's own right is more driven then passion,
Driving to end interest,
To war with passion,
To blatantly blend my mind into a pulp,
Mashing it,
Tenderizing it,
Relaxing it...
The Apathetic Man lies needless,
Controlled,
Happy and content with the boredom,
And as he prepares to rest,
One final time,
He closes his eyes,
And just at that moment he notices a flash of light,
A small explosion of thought in the distance,
A fracture in the ground,
He feels a second of interest,
Leaping out of bed,
Snuffing the quivering candle as he flees his home,
Frantically huffing and puffing,
Sprinting with all his energy towards the interest,
Hoping in his mind that apathy will not get there first,
But he has the element of surprise,
Apathy had not anticipated this...
A sudden instantaneous development of a true and powerful passion,
Deep inside him...
Still sprinting he sees another flash,
In another corner of the sky,
Red and Black this time,
Apathy is trying to trick him,
But he will not be swayed,
He is unstoppable now,
A seed of life on a dead world,
Growing,
Spreading,
Again another light flashes,
Apathy is begging him now,
Offering him protection from fear,
But he is not afraid,
He will make it.

Sitting here,
Tied to my chair,
Lashed with commands,
Controlled...
Filling with a desire to escape,
To free myself,
Finding freedom inside...

Imagination is my kingdom, my escape, and they call me mad,
This world blackens my senses,
Reality is a delusion,
My mind is reality,
Threatening to drift away into madness...
Or they call it madness anyway.

This cage, this prison cell, this classroom...
This grimy hole in which I stand,
Feeling them force their thoughts into my mind,
Unwillingly accepting the ****...
Watching them bleach and scrub my brain,
Painting it with ignorance,
Covering it in a veil,
My senses are gone,
I only see black,
Through a world of cold numeric displays,
Charts, and blank readouts dominate the sky,
Beauty is lost,
My mind is gone.

Writing...
Bitter Expression,
Meaningless electrochemical reactions converted into binary strings,
Interpreted as words...
A cold rag polishing them,
Stripping meaning...
Poems are nothing more than an interpretation of how we feel,
Stories are just an excuse to ignore the world,
Yet we choose to ignore the world,
To interpret,
Quiet Malaise brought on by interpretation is better than true sickness,
Tossing and turning in our sleep,
Instead of burning in the hell we live in,
Why exist when you can write?

That face in the mirror,
That Beauty that shines back,
Is it more than a mirror?
Or is it just a shadow of that person?
We look into the mirror to define us,
To secure ourselves,
But does the mirror lie?
Manipulate our thoughts?
For the mirror only sees,
It only sees...
For can it see beyond that shadow?
Are we becoming the person we see in the mirror?
That dreadful person,
Soulless,
Defined only by the fragments of light that reflect from your skin,
Emptier than space...

About nothing poetic

Thoughts,
Empty whispy things,
No emotion...
I sit here trying to cover the page with words,
With thoughtful imitations of emotions,
Poetic blasphemy,
Thinking,
Wondering,
Caustic lights bouncing around my skull illuminating nothing,
Thinking is cold,
Bland,
Dark...
Telling myself to feel,
But my thoughts stay blank,
Literally bursting with ideas,
Exploding with words,
Ripped and torn by mathematical equations...
But full,
To the top,
Drowning in thought and starved of emotion,
Where are my feelings...
Further trying to explain my idea through definitions strung together,
Like a necklace made out of shells,
Beautiful,
Ugly,
As it shines,
But inside the shells are just that,
Shells of past souls,
Sitting there empty, around my neck...
Comparing myself to a shell is outrageous,
Asinine...
But this analogy holds true,
As ugly and crude as it is,
For I am just a shell...
Trying to be a poet...

Darkness closing in,
Growing hard to breathe,
Air running out,
Classical Music Playing in My Ears,
Creating a false illusion of hope,
Driving me insane,
I,
I am fading away with the flicker of the flame,
Dissolving into a mist,
Life grows cold again,
The Bittersweet symphony plays on,
Love lashes out,
Grasping my throat,
Choking,
Fighting to Live,
The music grows louder,
Chaos ensues,
The Flame Flickers,
The Candle Wick fades,
No where to turn,
Love once again pushes me down,
Battling for life,
Battling for breath,
Battling for the chance,
The chance to find you,
Whoever you may be.