I blink the room to a distant light source,
the power shifts, a balance or blue and black,
Black and blue goes my heart,
as my mind argues if I did everything,
right,
My eyes know this haze, heavy workload has weighed down these lids,
Unable to scavenge, left to rely on a system that tends to repeat,
that tends to repeat,
I blink the room becomes a distant light source,
No matter how far I can feel it's indifference,
1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississippi,
Is the distance between me and the next crash,
Sipping on the adrenaline kicker,
find,
That between the moment of here and now is a very long time,
1 Apple, 2 Apple, 3 Apple, 4 Apple,
Seconds don't always repeat,
What should I do today?
I blink the lights to a blue a lot of us know.

I am a weak and frail body,
Taught to die for the sake of joy,
Self sustaining fluids attached by puppet strings,
The money breeds the monkey,
What it sees,
What it hears,
What it speaks,
While our hands are raised high,
The bullets feed our bellies,
There just isn't enough doctors,
As the drugs lead the charge,
Illegal beliefs have become truth,
But the grey lines have all vanished,
It's not a choice about who's side,
It's a surrender to the silence,
That was never listened to,
No longer will neglect aid nothing,
Sign by blood,
Spill your tears,
Know your fears and guilt,
The monkey's ears never closed.
The monkey's eyes never shut.
The monkey's voice never silent.

Maybe it's the faulty wiring of my circuits,
I don't seem to understand those around me,
I tell them don't trust me,
They say they love me,
But I will glitch, synapse misfire,
I'll become a villain in my program,
With no rhyme or reason,
I'll fail miserably to the hero,
That is my destiny,
But at least I'll know my fate,
Better than these faulty wires,
A maze of circuits that never know where to connect,
Is this what it's like to be human?..

I've written in anger
And sorted myself out
I've written on drugs
And found new meanings
I've written in sadness
And found that I am beautiful
I've written before bed
And never let my head hit the pillow
I've written about my skin
And no one knows what I am
I've written about what it means to be human
And I still have no answers
I've written while in love
And have had many lovers
I've written in art
And hid the words within the blank spaces
I've written rambles
And each one more absurd then the last
I have written about my adventures
And returned filthy and alive
I've written stolen words from the wise
And spread the knowledge far and wide
I've written to you
And you have read
I've written
And have kept writing.

If I were to change a song,
No if I were to write a(n) album,
The music I would write,
Would be based on the situation you are listening to...
Each track named after a vague moment,
Shared by the general different,
And like minded people.
This track is called 'sitting down talking to person's I mean Scott Pilgrim vs. the world did it,
Why can't i?
So prepare world because I have a secret song that will tell you of my life,
Loves,
And the joy of experience,
Listen closely,
That's how you crack the first mask,
But first I'll ask you,
What is this track called?

The thought of you
Attaches  itself to the fleeting youth
Every day passes, we age
To see each other
Just another thought

Out of sight out of mind,
A saying that seems to be underrated,
Thought mostly about objects of disgust or stress,
And since I've objected to being anything more than an object,
This categories fits my life,
Even when acting like a faulty car part; the check engine light remains being of little concern,
"I'll just drive till it dies"
It's just the cost isn't worth it,
with all the time we spend in it,
Eventually the light turns off,
No rhyme or reason just the decision to love unconditionally...
Or the
The car dies used

All the thoughts that collect in my mind right now lead to biting... TMI

A phrase sewn into the very fabric of my thoughts and words,
Let's be weird for a second so that I can feel normal,
Its been awhile,
We all know the feeling,
There is a selfish stench that covers the true sincerity of being on the end of a babbling mouth,
Word ***** so I've heard.
A price for the anxiety driven conversation,
That, one, I? you?
Just want to end by revealing that too much has been shared and all of Hell will open to devour the chosen who failed to keep the mouth shut,
Speak it anyways,
Just yesterday I thought about *******, indeed I did,
How little, how much, how long,
It's not hard to know this moment,
Where a sensation overcomes experience,
The slip,
What a beautiful snipit of what matters,
Taken away,
Becomes some sort of "okay,"
Unless controversy over ego and ego draws a tarnished line of how much I and you know,
I really can only focus on one subject within this,
Uh,
It took me like 8 times to even begin this one poem,
I kept getting distracted, love, children, being a teacher,
Following tangents of conversations and panicked assumptions, those normal thoughts that see the warning signs of danger,
Light up a cigar and say "**** it,"
Charging full speed into the unknown,
All of that kept me from drawing a conclusion to why I really wanted to tell anyone that I like biting.

Someone hit pause on my game of life,
I'm now on a coordinated assault about the subject of limbo,
Stepping onto buses that are running ahead of schedule,
Following a clock and assuming I know how to read it,
You see time has forgotten me,
Caring only for my serenity not my sanity,
The outstanding speech was really a hidden filibuster,
Time has won when I know what's going to happen next,
Different tracks splitting on an atom,
Spinning gears, cutting ties, Following death,
In that second I am on pause

I am on a roll "today"
Nothing "good"
No, "bad"
wait, "something"
that's it, it "happens"
everyday until it "changes"
but that's not "fair"
things change "everyday"
even when days seem the "same"
that was just me playing with "words"
we've all thought "it"
haven't I said this "before"
Deja vu, inception within "poetry"
so this is "how"
I'll let you "finish"
the sentence that "is"
just one of "these"
nope, "those"
days I "guess"
figurines amidst the "speech"
Yes I'm(am) sure of what I'm "saying"
trust me I know my words "better"
that is, than to "you"
I've not beaten around the "bush"
I've "rolled"
and there it lays "ruined"
my path of "destruction"
over the innocent "plants"
life that only knew of "death"
the moment it "happened"
all i'm saying is "that"
I don't "believe"
Plants think they can't "die"
they "know"
like what we argue "about"
who exists, what "existed"
in the first "place"
there was "nothing"
then a thought about "something"
beautiful we've almost "repeated"
the "thought"
I knew I was on a roll "today"

There is this image stuck in my head,
a body laid bare,
slowly examining it's own features,
how the bones don't fit in the perfect 90 degrees,
though what a figment of self to call out how well,
                                                   I,
fit into the 'in between,'
I may,
                                                  no,
I am sure that the person to whom you are talking to is...

And that's just it,
like this **** mark on the page that I can't see, even though it's
                                                write
in front of me,
how well can we read when we are distracted by jumping images mixed in with soft spoken words,
and the promise that (we're)(you're) not insane.
(next page)
I should be noting that in this piece not everything will be written as it should be.
Nor will it be read with any prior knowledge.
Dag nabbit though a way some normal people say it
                                                    ****.
The point is I forgot what we were talking about.
there's that smell of ash and bone again,
smooth to the touch,
the way the pen can crawl and curl as well as the smoke does between our lens,
it is again my  perception that deceives.
Just a jot on the page.
just a note in the beat... simple and so sweet,
the fascination that there is someone,
                                                    yes
­lets make this personal,
there is someone that you want.
So beg and beg.
I mean there is this juncture where the harder and harder you think you will ever get to understanding this,
is to believe that there is a prism and within is how well things can or can't be distinguished.
I am finding it hard to feel comfortable this way,
as in I am sorry I made you feel that way,
                                              What!
        ­                                       Way!
that way yes it's all in our heads,
but that's okay yes yes in order to learn to breathe.
with me...
                  In...
                         Out...
                                   Breathe.
                                                  In...
­                                                         Out...
                                                          ­         1-2-3...
let's count on our hands,
fingers?
either way that's not what I was going to say,
and why wait?
what the hell are you doing?
are you trying to trick me?
Get me to believe that for on'y the count of one two three,
I mean 3 seconds,
I was not in me?

I keep hiding my words from the pages I write,
there is this fear of what goes on in my head may be interpreted differently than what it was never meant to be to begin with,
the anxiety builds upon itself,
manufacturing "could be's" and "what if's,"
when all I want to know is if someone is safe,
I regard myself to high standards but know that I can become a victim to my own open flaws,
like all open targets my heart sits open to public view which is alright to me,
I'd rather let the heart bleed than tend to the wounds others have made on it,
I am more than a collection of patches sewn on by lovers who thought my heart was saved,
I have a mind and body that holds scares and lacerations much harder to see,
for a longer explanation refer to my thoughts,
waiting to be written,
waiting to be found,
waiting to be understood,
on this ramble I'll simplify it by saying that you and I are so much alike,
and that is all,
our differences come from the experiences telling me how we are not like the other,
here I am still confused,
trying to understand why I am so different from those who I know,
why they don't express themselves the same as I,
it seems that answer is already known,
yet with this loose cannon brain taking shots at itself,
I forget easily,
that I am growing or fluctuating,
finding a balance that may appease the gods staring back at me,
there will be a day when all of our scattered thoughts combine,
I will finally be able to speak the words that you will understand.

If I ever see an empire crumble,
It would be the hands of the future peons that would have to rebuild, then re-brand themselves into the eyes of their mothers and fathers, prove that nothing is possible when accomplishing the past standards, who's to say what is the better path, I've paved new ways treading on the hopes and dreams I have thought wrong, there are stress fractures writin on the faces of friends, they lose their battles judging values vs. Life,
I am neutral within the chaos of laws, trying to read the signs with eyes closed,
It's a free fall without me behind the wheel, who is going to lead the band of the deaf, blind, and mute soldiers, forsaken once the war is over, they have no presence to offend their normal counterparts, I'm inbetween handing them money or a gun, neither will do them well, let them select, let them be, bow before the relinquished blood ties, observe each noble pursuit add a dawning crown

It is time to change the way things are, scratch that smell from our noses, like **** in a bottle chucked out the window while going 90,

The free fall fogs up the glasses on a blushed face, 40oz till we down the sound of crying,

Lie across the ocean
Lie across the land
Send truth over and watch it slip through the cracks,

Breached news of frustration calls "Canada is coming, what the **** is America doing,"
We do our best to travel against all odds, piloting a spoon made of silver into a greedy pocket originally meant to feed those eating mud pie, baking in an ever dying sun as fish float up to the surface,

Choking down the salt water to avoid drill, give them a gun instead, it will protect our false memories and concocted purpose,

This was paid for by ink soaked bones working in minimum oxygen to the brain, featured on rolls of film stripping off clothes covered in lust,

Taking hold of a crowd with merely this voice, conducting an audience with bed knobs and broomsticks, rhythmically grinding the **** awry, taste this sun from the lips of a fairy, mystical or not we were there to receive,

Open our hearts via chaos trained messages, massaging back pains to the point of tears, electromagnetism therapy causing the lights around the dance floor to flicker, moving at incomprehensible speeds relating colors between points B to Z,

On numbered grids the scale is curved to fit the description of another one biting the dust,
And as we finally rest on cold stones the Panic sets in.

Why can't my liver filter thoughts like it does with alcohol?

It would save me the trouble of all the money I've spent to free myself of bad decisions,

There is so much formality within a sober moment, while my drunkenness speaks freely,

My brain doesn't erase moments like alcohol does, yet my liver puts up a fight reminding me to think,

Fantasizing over an image created by theses slurred and blurred overzealous eyes,

I am attracted to bars like teachers are to mls style, and to this day I'm still not sure which one has been more beneficial.

Looking down the road of allowing glass, I measured my state of mind to pick my poison,

Tequila adds a flower to a withering soul, ***** snuffs out the light where it gets to bold, whiskey fakes the fight with its bros, while gin loosens the bones and wine your emotions, at last we have beer a truth serum more powerful than love,

What they all take is feeling, a small price to learning what we see in the refection is really something we refuse to collude with.

My liver is always amazed, the amount of control I give to it, whilst the hand with a drink in it stays steady,

The other acquires shame, controlled by a freedom of released inhibitions,

If I could escape the safety of the dinner lights for the missing love that I thought drive me here,

My liver is alone, in the battle, like one soldier who's realized that their command center threw them into a death trap and their enemies are mindless zombies of fallen memories,

My toast is not alone, followed by smiles and condolences, significant enough to convince everyone, maybe one more.

On the steps of love,
Bathing in light a stranger approaches me,
Spitting fire, claiming my eternal rest false,
No actions are free of judgement,
So I roll these words up and smoke them into my lungs,
Paused, holding until my features speak more than if I were to exhale, (the truth),
In minutes the sight of the stranger recedes,
Not sure if their power nearly took a life they were trying to save,
Sticks and stones may bring on death but words give them a target,
A resistance to the known struggles,
Demons have many faces and oh do I admire them all,
Yet the further we did, it's from the sky they fall,
So buried we are along with the facets of our emotions,
Those still lucky enough to breathe face corrupted air,
And we will set for to our insides,
Becoming the words once trapped inside.

And just what are you expecting to see?

Two eyes just like mine, hands that ache to feel flesh, there is something to fabricating  love,

Adequate to say that these threats will go unheard, and through the years I'll get to say I told you so, yet I still feel like a failure,

Cross check the references, comb the referrals, you've got the experience for every job but the one you want,

I find security in preserving the real me,

Over thinking on what should be said next, when just their presence will suffice, trying to explain to yourself how to not sound crazy, all the while talking to yourself.

We all do it,

Some things are better left in that awkward silence, the longer it holds the more said than words could ever entertain, no pure thought is safe,

An invasion that's become obsession,

Even if I tell you all my secrets, there is still apart of me I'm missing, not even I can find it alone

My ego tends to show through,

I get it confused with my personality, which in turn doesn't show much as my skin, cursed to oblivious stares,

Then again I've been talking to myself,

Usually just saying hello, possibly singing some tune, or my favorite describing exactly what I'm doing in confusion,

"What am I writing?"

A taste of reality from the insomniac ramblers program, a show free to watch, and real physical participating with the whole gang,

Hold on tight to this thread,

Your future with me will not be what we expect, I recommend strict regimes for personal viewing times, our minds are hesitant to believing what's in the mirror

I see me, and I see you

I'm content with the journey that is my life,

There may be thorns within the beauty I've started to grow, just false protection to the unfamiliar touch, easy to feel but hard to hear I'm not all that you see,

It's the attitude of music that has inspired me to speak,

Unfurling our languages from knotted conversations, confusing scriptures in song reveal truths thought lost,

Time would ask for an extension because it was created late, I would only like to know where the wild ones roam, all the things have been found, now the nowhere man stands by at attention,

Searching,then researching human interaction,

Affirmation for such a tedious pursuit is hard to come by, I can find myself asking if there is more, The simple course is yes along with a side of maybe,  hors d'oeuvres to pick first make a choice caught red handed or blue *****,

Wash it away on a sunny day, finding warmth within a surreal glitch, escape your person destroy what isn't true,
Dream,
Believe,
Imagine,

There is what you make of it,

I see it as a challenge of wonderful mystery, it can be anything, what a weird word it, I love it, will you join me in it, Take care of it,

Ramble with me about it.

Let me paint a picture within your mind,

There is a picture on the wall with two bodies mid fall, they are positioned in a decaying building with widows just behind them, cascading then in a ominous light.

There is a mother and daughter, and a in training service dog with gold and black fur and a purple vest with poo bags on the left, the mother, short grayinh hair wearing a grey sweater, and pants to match, jots down information as the daughter, pink and blond hair wearing a black cardigan over a blue with white striped dress and a hat black with a variety of colored paw prints separated by hearts, recites information found on her phone.

Over a frozen lake, glides a white sail with a green rim, it's stands out against the pearlescent background caused by the haste of the setting winter sun.

I'm sorry we feel the way I do,
I'm analysing my own words before my mind can speak,
I stutter odd syllables trying to spell out the sounds,
I'm a child that grew up to fast in a world of beautiful souls and crazy minds,
I read about losing battles and write about crazy rambles,
I remember how I felt...
I read about losing battles and write about crazy rambles,
But I forget what I should feel now,
Advanced theories claim the inevitable,
Old theories claim one source,
I'm not really sure what we are talking about,I'm sure you get the idea,
Just reject conscious thought,
Maybe pet a cat,
Losing ones self is the first step to finding ones self,
This has become self therapy so stick with me,
The nowhere man is waiting for orders,
For we can not think of one's to give,
Eat, sleep, repeat,
One of the many cycles that have stayed so shall another that has proved useful to me,
Read. write. read. Death
Don't be mistaken they are all endings,
With guidance that should make the knowing easier,
What rivers will converge?

In one short night I discovered how to live like an eternal entity,
Shed my body like a girl does with a skirt,
What's beyond this freedom has yet to be explained or it is to be forever explored,
But theories within my mind tell me that we are connected,
It's similar to how music is connecting us together, the feeling that sinks into your bones and charges through the bloodstream,
That powerful wave of emotions as the eternal call out to our dreams, or the shadowy imprints of lost thought being observed by an on looker, experiencing deja-vu as we cross their hidden paths,
All our actions are truly planted before us, with roots and branches spreading every direction, the paths we take are forever changing and expanding,
Our choices are strings pulling the weight of the world along the lonely paths,
There is no requirements to how we love only on how we live, we can live for ourselves to love others, the possibilities are endless,
As is our eternal souls.

On most cold and sunny days we bask in the sunlight on our living room floors,
Observing the flecks of dust floating in space, detecting air we cannot feel,
but once in awhile the urge to run becomes overwhelming...

"At least it's sunny" we say as the zipper pulls up around the neck, two long sleeve layers under the jacket, and a hat makes us just about set.

Now if you're like me you wear two layers one thin and one thick for below the waist, not this guy, he went with the tried and true one layer winter tights complete with the red stripe to match his jacket...

As for the the shoes I can not say, for I was in a vehicle and we were going opposite ways, but they must have been warm because the only part of him that was frozen was his mustache.

I steal lyrics to start a conversation
"I want so badly to believe that love is real"
And this has got me asking how does one think of love?
Do you think we are talking One Love or Free Love
I could explain the how's of love
Like
How does love taste?
How does love sound?
How does love smell?
How does love feel?
I might even one day tell you what love looks like...
The one thing I know best of all about love
Is that I've got love to give
Maybe it's something I caught as a kid, could have been born with it, but I'm sure I have love,
It's possible that I may fill a void, fit like a puzzle piece, curl up like Yin does with Yang, melt into a beautiful mess of love,
I'm always ready to take chances with the waves of love
I'm not blindly in love I'm fully submerged
You'll see
Just keep your eyes on me
I love (you)

Today I tried to change the track I was on,
Shift from one train of thought to another,
Crossing off dead ends and broken lines,
Eager in search for wise words within a silent future,
Some curiosities are better left unsaid or untouched,
These feelings demand a sense of real,
Close our eyes and trust fall into an undecided belief,
All questions are resolved after that,
Spare the family and take the restgive it all to shame,
Laughing along side the tears that treat loneliness,
Once again it takes a failure to teach a student,
Though learning is just the curve of eternal life.

Two cardinals bathe in the creek as I'm lost in thought about how beautiful you seem to me

I want this to be heard not read out like the books you reserve at the library
Forgotten as an adult willing to pay out of pocket for an escape that we all had as children, such an easy time to rewind to followed by emotions from a third mind.
Treated for the problem with glowing screens and repeated beats...
But that's past us, the history books (have been) will be rewritten by the youngsters a generation that slipped through the cracks after the X & Y before you would have heard of a millennial,
My passive aggressive ways are to think like a murderer and smile on the outside I wear a soul on my sleeve while the heart stays sheltered, remembering being curled up with that library book to read go dog go
Time escapes us when we escape from reality escaping out of dreams originally created to escape time,
A letter from Clever foxes to loyal hounds you too can be my friend to, just strip away the claims that I might cause you pain once you see who you are, then after I passed shed me the tears you would man.
The covers over our heads assure that we are in bed weighing the odds of whether that youth inside us has left.