I like how the twist happens in a knot
how posture is weird in a world losing sleep
a single star shoots out the counting fingers
1-2-3-4
the last one spared so we all have one reason to remember not to point,
Sadly the heart was stuck by love
The guiding light pointed and spoke in just
But after we are left alone it's our heads we lose
A spastic jolt behind the eye inquires the fight has just begun,
climbing to the front lines screaming for the sane to run home
leading only the crazy to the steps to ask
"How would you explain the world today to a child?
That thing that we all talk about and yet never reach
the answer for a question asked only while high
sad that it's been forgotten only yesterday,
The screws were wrong so the rings grew long and hateful
The flatline between I and the starting line
Staring at a maze from above is different then being within it
Success is only as rewarding as the length of time spent
"give up now"
Luck has it that secrets are kept for intellect to seem smart
so start sitting on the empty wave on nowhere land
break all the sound and drink all the air
wait for nothing longer so that something has to arrive
then leave it alone forever
peace is reachable when you draw a picture and hold it
Poe is underestimated except when spoken in other names
Thats why I hide so well in Poetry

Hello,

My name is... not so important as to who I am.
Who am I? A question that starts simple until it takes ahold of ones imagination. However the answer never forms there... it just knocks on  my door at night the dashes into the trees to hide. Eventually I questioned if there was even an answer.

So my name is Poe... I would pronounce it p-O. This is who i am... There are no words that can explain who I am, and the letters disgrace the sound they designate, but for Poe to exist as my name, I am that which I know.

A pestering uncertainty that I could be a false thought... That I could only be one star fizzling out among the endless number... I share the very space between air and breath... Never reconcile my existence.

Sincerely
*Poe

Though the lines are false - The words hold true, We lose our minds to the little ***** that our brains have - Lost, Treasures we believe mean more to us than those who buried them - Why follow a stray letter that blows towards our lovers, Caught blind & broken- with only the last words that may have said I Love You, Watch us laugh realizing - That our Pain causes everyone else the humor they seek, Flee from the land and - Find the place our roots first began to grow, My understanding of I that found - out he was she, that began at we, Oh to feel the tears of our holy faith - infrequent but ever so prevalent, Finding out that big words we use take - small ones to explain their meaning, Pleased with the dictation, this line looks stitched, A Puzzling fear causes the hand to quake but it fights the - shiver, tell a story about what was written, lose yourself in a call for - eyes, These are the last words of this poem they mean very little I Love You

Never
Never again
Never again will
Never again will I
Never again will I
Never again will I take
Never again will I take
Never again will I take a
Never again will I take a breath
Never again will I take breathing
Never again will I take breathing for
Never again will I take breathing for granted
Never

Feel the push and pull of my voice as it enters a dance of love,
Affirmation follows with a glance caught wandering,
Linger just long enough for reality to catch up,
Sift through the maps of our brains  plotting each next step,
Expanding horizons form through a windshield as the sun sets,

Hear the tapping of hearts trying to synchronize,
Open to the restrictions unfurling before our eyes,
Place the next arrow to be released at the heart an inch higher,
Exhausted by each false hope formulated among our thoughts.

If I were to unfold my being into the pages of a never ending book,
Would you pick it up?
If each word next to each other was in a different language,
Would you read it?
If the chapters were written out by days on my life?
Would you grasp it's concept?
If on the title it read "the Daily Thoughts of God's thought,
Would you believe in it?

What of the discussions that would arise from my pages,
Would you argue with or against me?
What of the pain I have given and the joy I have felt,
Would you cry and laugh?
What of the men and woman I have picture in bed with me,
Would you be aroused?
What of the sounds I drown the world out with,
Would you too close your eyes?

Would you read me if I were a book?
If I was sitting on the ground just three pages long?
What wonders might you find in me?

Forget about our repetitious lives,
The beginning was just a thought I had,
Twisted in the way of a spiral,
It continues infinitely towards the end,
Nothing can create something, but that can not be reversed,
So our end in only the last thought I will have,
Even in time we walk backwards,
Trapped by the same number system as our predecessors,
But follow too closely and emotions fall short of morals,
The only connection to conscious and the brain.