When you know the answer then why wait for the question?
maybe it was just to make her squirm in that last sense of right I knew all that was wrong.
She knew it would hurt and so she avoidng the words.
Hiding her own happiness  to allow me my dellusion tinged misery.

At the table the candle slowley burned casting a glow only
causing the shadows to stir.
We spoke more in silence than in words.

My male ego feuding with itself.
Yerning to cause the pain that was already
eating at me  secrets  burn a hole in the rational mind.

You ***** I imagined yelling  causing only me to appear more of a fool than  I already was.
But the silence said it all.
Sliding the  drink aside looking into the eyes  i could never truley understand.

And in my loss i saw the beauthy and saw her emptyness
with me she would only know.
the moonlight reflected apon the water is but  a reflection
of what we need only look up to see.

It takes love to say goodbye.
as outside in the nights air  we needed that last embrace to
remind us of the emptyness  that we shared.

Into her eyes  I gazed as within her soul I spoke.
No false hope tasted within  that kiss.
As paths part life does change and the chapter is closed.

The happy lie tempted my heart as she vanished into
her life.
Perfume cast her scent as the pen kissed the page.
the ghost's off memory haunt me eternal.

But never was  is my life.
As my love yerns more for what her's could be.
  
The darkness my home  always tempted with the
promise of light.
Closed is that fragment of heart.
As the candle's apon the table slowley kissed the darkness
as trail's of smoke  trace the scene.

I knew it was over  befor  she spoke the final words.
But no matter the experience  nothing.
Prepares you for the  hell of waiting  for goodbye.

Dear poet's  of Hello.
After some thinking ive come to realize  theres one thing this
site and a few of my friends here really need to embrace more often.
The truth.

Im known as a clown but I do not fear speaking my mind.
Ive faced far more challenging things in my life than worring
over if people like me or not  what has this place become highschool?

I read comments well to be honest I know  that people dont mean
theres poems on here ive seen on the charts for months that to be honest dont desserve the comments they get but people are to scared to  be honest and speak there mind.

Why?
Thats the big question and I see no clear answer.
The backstabbing and ******* here makes me really rethink
just why im here.

But ive met some good friends here and I respect them no matter if i like there work or not.
I dont expect people to lie and say they like something when they dont  just speak your mind use some manners of course  but what are you all so scared of?

Look theres alot of crap here that makes little or no sense.
The charts are a joke.
And I have friends here who talk about how much they hate something only to comment on it and be two faced.

Im not gonna call people out you know who you are.
Do you really think your helping anyone by blowing smoke up there ***?

Im sorry if I offend people with this but feelings will always be hurt
and  not everyone is gonna get along.
Writting is not my hobby it's  not something I do  cause  im some moody  spoiled snob that thinks his life is so hard cause in reallity.

Ive lived a life I wouldnt wish on anyone I know the true meaning of pain  I didnt grow up having **** handed to me.
Yet no life is easy.
Writting to me is like breathing  I have no choice.  

But the stuff im seeing here is straight up *******.
People kissing each others ***  then talking about how they **** behind there back.

Saying what friends we are only to secretly despise each other.
I speak my mind if i tell you i like your work it's cause i do but really honestly how can you criticize someone's self expression to me you cant.

Im no better than anyone else and after posting this I figure alot of people will probaly think im a **** but  at least I have the courage to be myself.

Lets try to at least not turn this place into Poetry Soup.
That place is a highschool of clicks  and  sad people who act like children  hell the kids there act more mature than the adults.

People fear honesty and I know coming fro0m me this is the last thing you expected  but i had to get this off my chest.
Great writers  werent worried with if you liked what they did or how many people  liked them.

I respect you all but all I ask is  to be more honest with each other.
Cause this place is turning into a zoo and no one seems to be running the asylum.

Speak your mind cause if you dont know one will ever know your true voice.

Thank you and  if I offended at least I made you think.

The stage was  set the little untalented ***** monkeys gathred
like bizzar attention seeking ******  all for the title
of  Hello Poetry's top poet.

But enough with the weird named carbon copy poets
who now **** the charts im just saying im a little bitter.
Lets take a look at the judges you silly little donkeys.

It was a who's who of people who actully were something
that what in the real world we like to call original.
Jack  yes the loveable kinda ******* ****** who deep
down would probaly have more in common with Jack the Ripper
than Lord Byron  im just saying.

Baths  yes the queen of Hello  and i'd  be a smart *** now but im scared she'd hurt me  and not in a good way  not that im into
pain dam you Marv  Albert    i never knew the tijuanna brass were so freaky.

Chris Smith  the poet  the model  the all  around  hansome devil
with a heart of gold  you go girl.

Phil Roberts  the silent  yet  down right evil  arch enemy of
all things  sweet and pure finally off probation and his meds.
Still the restraining  order was in full effect thank God  Barney
that devil worshiping dinosuar was no where in site  and as long as the voices in Phils head were happy we were all safe.

And the man the myth the pervert drunken *******  of Hello.
Just back from his recent vist   to  Shady Pines  resort slash mental
institution.
Gonzo  along with his court ordred doctor .
Dr Jerry  Who held many degree's in bartending,Massage therapy with happy endings,And chemistry yes  he was a real busy ******* slash drug fiend okay dealer.
What a girl has her needs.

Sitting at the judges table it was the usal chatter how are you.
Nice ***'s  hey Phil  put down the knife.
Jack  wear did you get that muzzle and straight jacket?
Baths  reminding me she didnt wanna have to use the pepper spray
like at the Hello christmas party.

Gonzo pouring his wild turkey.
Dr Jerry yelling  hey just what do you think your doing?
What are ya drinking by yourself?
Good point  you silly *******  so after four strong drinks
some lines of uhh  sinus powder from Columbia they dont just
make records  to my suprize we were off like lindsy lohan
on a drug I mean  well a drug run.

The first couple of guys read there genitic poems all of which
were like taco bell food.It  pretty much  would either give you food poisening or the ****'s.

Person after person read there poetry the drinks poured
people gave there opinions  Chris well the poem was great just maybe pace it better.

Baths giving another deep comment that was always welcome
that and the contestants outta sheer fear knew not to cross her
cause **** happens after dark around here and the Hello dumpster
is filled with not just bottles of wild turkey yeah remember Drew?
Exactly.

Jack gave a long muffled  comment  that must have surely been brillant someone should really remove that dam muzzle.

Phil  goddamed dinosuar  i'll teach him for playing hard to get.
oh yeah he'll like it he'll like it real good  oh look
a puppy dog.

Okay kinda weird  but well yeah.

Then the  attention turned to the attention grabing little *****
of Hello  no not  Gary ****** man.
the only G that matters beside's spot  Gonzo.

Well I think you need to lean more into the microphone  when you
read  and um well to relax  show more clevage.
And may I say if that was a samba   it totally ******
1 star.

The room and other judges must have been amazed by my depth
for they were all silent.
Dr Jerry aplauded  dam he really knew how to fill out that cheerleading outfit   we really needed to take a fishing trip im just saying
male bounding is okay sometimes  just ask Phil.

The people kept rolling in i slept through most of the mens readings
the women  because im a gentleman  and a scholar I had DR Jerry give my card  cause if Ican help inspire and guide maybe cuddle  fresh hot
young poets im all for it   I know what your saying yes I am  
giving back to the Hello community and not just STD's and hangovers.

But enough with the foreplay  finally  with the tension built up
like little catholic school girls waiting for there savior Justin Bieber to make a appearence   it was time.

Who was Hello's top new poet.
The short little **** *******  slash  napoleon of hello walked to the mic.
And after several  attempts at reaching it  one of his many  
assistants slash  friends with benfits of staying on the charts forever
assumed the possition.
So he could stand on there back and talk in the mic.
Get your mind outta the gutter.

The winner is  for there poem the Gentic.
There began a rumble beside me ******  Dr Jerry
stop jerking off were public man.

But it wasnt my dealer I mean doctor .
It was My fashion forward amigo Jack.
The rumbling continued slowley the straps began to snap
as his color changed to red once would have been to green
if not for copyright infrigement dam you king kong.

The red devil burst from his restraints  like a  stripper off
a four week ******* binge let loose  at Macdonalds.
tables flew  clothes were ripped.
Bathe's yelled  at the top of her lungs  look ****** I have a tazer
so if you try to cop a feel i'll use it.
Must have been talking to Phil or Chris.

I knew what to do  in this chaos i quickly ran with the special talent of Hello  to my dressing room  DR Jerry  emergency bring  wild turkey duct tape  a video camera  a inflatable swimming pool  some jello mix and  a Kenny G  cd  and some roofies .
Im kidding  I never listen to Kenny G.

The screams were that of a german shapard ripping a smurf to shreads.
Help me  plaese  mommy I almost felt sorry for Eliot.
But i did what a true gentleman slash long winded journalist does in these time's. Sat back with some cocktails and enjoyed some jello
wrestling  opps  I think  the tickle monster is loose.

Me first  me first  ******  Phil  well if it keeps the voices at bay
why the **** not.
We laughed we danced  Jack Horner  bathed in Eliots blood.
While Chris said please  stop including me in these ****** stories
Gonzo.
    
While Baths  kept her tazer in hand  and dry white wine in the other.
Much like  a bad habbit I grow on you.
Jack looked at me as old brothers in shared insanity often do.
Hey Gonzo  when ya  gonna end this one mate?
Hey amigo  as soon as ya get that  *** on stage and close the show
with a lady gaga  preformance.

The *****, the *******,  the Brits,And Gonzo,
With his doctor slash roadie slash personal man servant bartender
who could ask for anything more than a purple dinosaur's head on a platter but enough about Phil.

Untill next time Stay Crazy  Kids.
Gonzo.

Coming outa the fog that was a steady binge I reailzed it had all
changed.
No longer was I the in demand writer but more like a sad cliff note
to a on going trainwreck.

People either stopped by to view the specticle or laugh at the
man who no longer was what they secretly hated.
The drinks but a old vice and my only true friend who held the
promise of my death.

The night befor had been a display of Gonzo like a vetran preformer
I played the role empty to myself yet the joke they did thirst to
know to see that spark and relive vision's of a burning fire.

To have the safe laugh with the old drunkard.
My eyes but a store window to a long since closed business.
I had become a human ghost town a walking monument to
the strange case of what used to be.

There taunts were clear hidden under a mocking yet sweet candy
covered lie.
tormented like a lion in a zoo who's rage if released would
make them run in sheer terror if only they could imagine the violence
that loomed in my thoughts.

But I just continued to extinguish that fire every drink
kept it at a dull smolder.

They wanted the image the walking joke not the truth.
like a burnt out ****** eventhough it killed me i still
craved that feeling of utter acceptance in the reality of it's
true rejection.

The road called to me as it viewed me as a lost love
who had fallen and was notning more than a sad parody
of a once brave yet now bitter soul.

The mystery of that last great journey still did awake me.
The heart is a highway it's road looms on into the horizen.
Hitting deadends and emotional near insane crossroads.

And I no longer was numb enough to take it's punishment.
Th scrapbook of my mind was full yet pages were added by the drop.

The final chapter waited.
But befor it's end it must be lived.

Alone I knew this was the last stand and only when you walk through hell do you understand how it feels to rest in silence.
A circus preformer left with only posters and trinkets to recall
thoose failed glory's.

One last battle still did wait.
All i needed was one last spark.
So began my trip from paridise to hell.

The words my guide the whiskey my fuel.
Insanity my old friend in battle.
And this semi thing called reality my willing rival.

As writers we thirst for perfection and all its beautiful destruction.
As for gonzo it was all down hill from here kids.

Into eye's I see distant reflections of that person
only they see.
The jokes told,lies shared,soul's in rapture over
the iced hell.

The forms fill my thoughts yet never  trouble my mind.
That embrace of emptyness.
She can never understand.

******* we are  selfish giving to all.
Not sharing with a soul.
I cannot conform to a life not my own.
Bitter the king hold's court.
With a jester apon his throne.

How can I yern for thoose eye's I shall
never fulfill.
Act's of one are pale to the truth of none.

Were the addicts that which we may never score.
Lost in the promise blind to reality's lie.

Broken is the heart I've  taken from myself.
To shun the happiness on a single chances wealth.
The eye's in the darkness cut through me never seeing
the man beyond the words.

Burried in a agony of endless guilt.
Contact of another isnt the reason.
Bliss is moments to **** the pain.

Caught in my vices like a fool slowley going
insane.
The lights cast shadows yet it's me who's
hiding.

Punchline's  and simple flirts season's  in
hell.
A vacation underneath a darklit sky.

I stand frozen in life free of form.
Lost as any leaf apon the waters of a oncoming storm.
Battles in soul losses in heart.
Togather in madness.
As strangers we part.


Bleeding to death living for seconds.
Sharp in contrast unclear in time.
She cries for the man  and  ignore's the stranger
he's become.

The eye's remain blind.
Seeeing as illusion.
Living as I die.

The sunset kissed the horizen  and the flask was finally empty.
My old friend to no suprize  had said his last goodbye.
Theres a place in a man's mind that doesnt allow understanding.

Darkness was soon to replace the laughter.
As a void was forever left.

Walking from the site I had no dellusions this was  to
be continued  no play of words could twist fate.
Outlaws were never ment to see happy endings.

He knew the game and laughed at it's  outcome.
To be forgotten  wasnt a ploy but only time held the cards
and its face wasnt giving any clues.

The redness in the clouds like a perfect backdrop
cast a shadow apon the headstone  the leather bound flask
with the intials engraved into its front.

Was but a side note to a epitaph.
Time in thought's is wasted apon a life
ment to be otherwise empty.

It's time for me to leave.

And so a souls winter does begin.

Pills' partys  the last seven years washed unclean.
Streets  now empty past there prime and looking
to score.
Ive lived till the edge is dull.
I sit knowing theres nothing more.

Are we as ****** up as are parents befor?
The answers passed down are but secondhand
mistakes.

As the madess goes from funny to something altogather sad.
My eyes blind yet still able to see.
My own personal hell thoughts of a far off escape.
Hope is but  sweet dellusion not ment for me.

When the flame is gone darkness signals the change.
fake words concern is but a vice carried to the lost soul.
To live in the circle is but to embrace a soft cage.

No life  is a end at its false start.
A chord lost in time.
shadows I chase to there darkest end.

Laughter  hides the so clearly seen.
Hate take's my passion as time take's my
story the final verse to share with none.

Im the ******* of a stranger I know well.
He reflects the prison for which I yern for this nights release.
Dying in seconds  counting hours.

Killing the drug  strangles my air.
A painter never shows his thoughts.
Just covers his canvas.

Tomorrow I will no longer see your failure.
As in days I will embrace the emptyness
you no longer  control.

Vacant is the space windows and empty eyes.
The time 5:oo am  strangers will take the story
rewrite my past.

Lie's  are a freedom I no longer need.
Goobye's a return's promise.
I can no longer say.

Im exhuasted  yet I know its best to fill
the page.
But that southern breeze will  now be my home.

In sunsets i hope you see what never was.
Charm of a maniac  the sense of a legend to never be.
Darkness I wish i had shared tears  are the taste
of a talent  that never was me.

the glass is empty.