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Kris Apr 2010
Trials and Tribulations.

Miles and Hesitations got me struggling and tussling to hold on to you.

It's like I have to convince you that love is worth fighting for and money is nothing but dead gluttonous men that we can spend or save. Let's not spend but save up to get up and out. I want up and out of this town full of memories of you but lacking the subject of my subjected poetry.

Our future can be picturesque. We are just being put to the test cuz God has a plan for me and you. We have been tried and turned out true.

Sad and blue your eyes weep while I smile faintly in the distant memory of your cerebral time capsule. Time is moving Slow Slow Slowly down the river banks and ports of seas that part us with waves and waves of salt and Poison.

Water got me feeling heavy so I break down the levy with my sonnets and rhymes, trying to plead for time to speed up so we can grow up and get out. Grow up and bust out to any place with a name that is far from that which we came, where nothing is the same and we can just be together in the metaphors of a summer's breeze.

I'll put your mind at ease with the calming flow of poetry and the strum strum humming of my guitar as I lull you to sleep and watch your face so serene and at peace. And I kiss your soft lips goodnight as i hang up our phone call and place my head adjacent to my pillow and meet you in my dreams.
Kris Apr 2010
The Catalyst to the endless torture of my mind.

It lurks beyond the twilight waiting for the starry skies and droopy eyes to kick in and tap me out of the match of heavy weight limbs and and light weight bed sheets.

It whispers and creeps under my pillow humming endless tunes and catch phrases to remind me of the day i had laid to rest. Initiating the hours yet to come.

And I can hear the clock in the adjacent room tick tick tocking, ghosts walking. Dancing to the creeks in the floor board. Celebrating this monster that has grabbed hold of my shaking knees and restless fingertips itching for dreams or nightmares. Which ever comes first.

Just end this weight on my shoulders and the gruesome way my body aches with discomfort wrapped in fleece and cotton blends of linen on clouds. End the attack and bring sand to my eyes so I can allow my pupils to dilate with the light of the sun versus the stars and car alarms at 4am.

Bring me the horizon where the light kisses the earth and heads northbound like a swimmer coming up for air. End the way I crave unconscious states on made up highways and turnpikes in cars I cant drive in real life. Bring me the subconscious wishes from my heart and mind.

Open my heart and I wont mind if the truth spills over to cover lies. End this madness a hater cant bear.

End this unavoidable courtship with insomnia and let me sleep.
Kris Jan 2010
I look for love under boulders and stones because angels cannot help.
Heaven parted the land with seas so I cannot see my dream.
So I am left in the eye of the storm and Tsunamis got me feeling hopeless,
Because I am aid less.
Deprived of human contacts.
Waiting for the ship to dock but instead I'm left staring at the digital clock where your name should be.
Instead, I'm getting let down by an answering machine with a pleasant recording.
Too bad technology isn't enough for me.
Instead, I hold hands with strangers to feel an empty comfort because you can't even text me goodnight.
I throw **** around my room, wishing I was aiming at you
Because you let me down when your presence was crucial
If only vocal.
****. I would have settled for the simplest literary visual
Because at least then I'd know that your thoughts were with me
And my paranoia was silly
And the abuse I inflicted on the Teddy Bear you gave me for Xmas was unnecessary.
Then I'd take back all the curses,
The I-Hate-Yous.
I'll say sorry.
Re-stitch the results from the aforementioned brutality.
I don't even need an apology.
I just need to know that you actually love me.
Kris Jan 2010
Change tackles a broad spectrum of life.
You change your hair, you change your underwear, you change your shoes.
How the hell could someone change their Personalities in the blink of an eye.
Can some one so thoughtful and sensitive turn into such a **** with the turn of one sentence phrase and punctuation.
She storms in on her high horse ready to take the world by storm with her fury.
She may say im her world but what have i done to deserve such punishments.
I asked a Question.
The fatalities of words and sentence structures leave a gaping hole in the ego and sense of trust.
Sense of what is right and wrong cuz what is right by all does not apply to her.
Her mind twists and bends to form views and morals that not even a twisted fairy tale can concoct.
What she fights for doesnt fit the way of the world.
She believes in things that will never happen, that make no sense. She fights for views that will leave her fighting forever.
She is a non conformist but she conforms to stereotypes that go against her better thinking.
The way she used to think.
Stress has got her in a headlock, cutting off her brain's circulatory flow of intelligent words and clean blood.
She inhales.
Breathes in a mixture of smoke and unclean thoughts.
Yea, she can stop.
She's walking corruption.
Digesting poison in the pit of her stomach killing the butterflies she claim died.
Yea they died.
In a fiery pit of lies and hypocrisy that gets you nowhere.
She tells me her worst thoughts and wishes but her honesty doesnt justify the unjust actions that go against who she was.
Who is she becoming?
Someone who is dependent on drugs and drinks to make her happy Cuz she doesnt have the ***** to go against the grain and
Stick to her guns and stay clean and fresh,
Keeping her lungs pink and her brain free,
free to believe and grow with each intake of air not smoke.
I hate to see it happen but she is just like the others.
**** views take the form of rolled up paper.
Not an application but a temptation.
Non conformists need not apply.
Kris Jan 2010
You got me in a frenzy.
Friendly Fire ignited through the core of my body.
Speeding over Highways and parked cars on local streets.
Higher than a kite flowing through a summer's breeze.
Drug Free so my mind can comprehend each word you Say.
"Love, Love, Love", Its all the Same.
Then You speak in smiles and laughter.
Holding back Sonnets, Poems in chapters.
I Feel the Blaze warming up your eyes.
Melting the Cold, Dark Shield inside.
I can read each Word your Heart Proclaims.
Your Lips keep still but your Tone remains.
You're feeling like a bullet in a loaded gun.
Ready to soar when the time comes.
Unspoken Lyrics are left to Linger.
Ill remain in your eyes til you Pull the Trigger.
Kris Dec 2009
I write so I can be heard. Because actions speak louder but without words, Actions get mislead by failed revolutionary attempts.
I write to put my Mind at ease. So I wont be misread.
If only understood by the front and the back of my college ruled notebook
That contains literary works that no top notch professor could profess
And proclaim and teach with the flow that flows through my pen
And onto the streets to bring ease to a world lost in war,
Oblivious to the hell in Darfur
because the victims lack the power of words.
They are left breathless. Silenced by metal and powder.
Surrendering to the Man with the Gun
because Fire Power replaced Flower Power and Peace.
I write to bring hope. I write to cope.
To eliminate my fears if only for a moment.
I believe in my words. They can save lives.
My words can substitute victims with survivors.
Through my strength to move on, I stride to survive
And bring up all the people who cry every night for their prayers to be heard. To be saved by an Angel.
For someone out there to give a **** about their people.
I write to be that light.
The comfort through the storm.
I write to provide gateways for poets yet to be born.
Because WE have the power to move mountains and hills
And bring chills down the backs of our enemies at will.
I write to as a drug to enhance my performance, rock the cradle and the coffin. Stir up enough voice and bring life to the oval office.
And bring change to the land of the free and the home of the brave
Who take bribes from the trusts,
Becoming corporate slaves.
They **** the American dream with each cent they intake.
Contradicting the words our forefathers have laid
While ignoring the fights all around that resemble our fight against the Crown.
A citizen can lose trust with the **** that goes down.
I write to remain sane.
To keep my head above ground.
To watch My back and My front from the
"In God We Trust".
Kris Dec 2009
Time moves on and people revert back to their old ways leaving chaos in their wake.
Spoiling memories, past and future.
I am not a toy.
I can't be tossed about the room. I don't work on demand.
I am Pinocchio.
A Marionette without the strings.
Free to walk the world.
Free to sing.
Free to dance and move to the pace of my own drum.
I spoil no one.
I am me.
I am independent.
Stop trying to tug at non-existent Nylon strings because I will not be controlled.
I don't like to be ordered about.
Left feeling lonely and sad.
Used.
I do what I don't really want to do.
We fight on new levels each time we are together.
I cover up my tears and woes.
Put on a happy face.
Im sick of the stormy weather.
I break promises and I lie to protect crimes and sorrow.
I am a Monster.
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