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Jun 2020 · 281
I the monkey
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.
I matter, my family matters, those who have been ignored matter.

Thank you
Dec 2019 · 227
It has been a long time
The snow has come and the crazy is just begining,
My head races for fresh air as the shelters of our cold and lonesome homes lock us away,

Was there ever a point when the cold did not bring such lost wanderers?

Sorrow grows without the frequent smile or hello of the sun,
Our faces hidden in grimace behind the fabrics and fogged glasses,

When did we become so distant?

Fires should be lit on every corner,
A revel of strangers joined in peace calling for company of those passing by,

Why do we avoid the connection that we yearn for so much?

We are all okay until we say we are not, but what we say does not always come out how we want.
Hey everyone just wanted to remind you that even without knowing you or seeing you, I love you and even the worst of our thoughts don't out weigh those around you.
Sep 2019 · 500
Wire heads
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?..
Jun 2019 · 534
Glimpse of the past
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.
May 2019 · 241
Knock On The Wood Frame
I tend to forget about all that goes on in my life,
Each mental note is burned,
Like a moth enticed by the beautiful flame,
No matter the importance,
Each trial becomes engulfed by the bigger questions,
That tend to argue about my very existence,
Every realization of growth rises in smoke,
A puff of air released from my lungs,
Blows it away into the blissful nothingness,
That sits in front of us all,
What remains is not memory,
Nor is it emotions,
They are questions,
That only fuel the fire lit between,
My breaths and dreams.
Slipped the whole way to the train,

Acted and taught about what it means to be you,

Walked over lakes back from the train.
Mar 2019 · 263
Secrets (see and create)
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,
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?
Hello it's been awhile, please enjoy.
From gray to Poe.
Feb 2019 · 212
The thought of you
Attaches  itself to the fleeting youth
Every day passes, we age
To see each other
Just another thought
Oct 2018 · 503
I did not know much about ants until I found that the internet told me so,
and I still don't know what that has to do with life,
another text that I had to respond too, I didn't have to do it,
life would not have changed for me,
but I wanted to feel important and so I thanked a neighbour.

Who helped put me on a soccer team, nothing big,
but life changing.

Anyway even though we(you and I) could look back to remember what was said,
I don't,
the future of this life is unfolding within my eyes,
I am creating,
noticing the trends in the writing of a mind designed by the public,
or me,
but not I,
here in this
I would fill in the blank however when you grasp for a word to the point that synonyms become a common search point I worry I've driven this vessel recklessly.

How would we drive proper?

I see myself everyday stupidfied, surprised,
  unexpectedly perplex that i.

Wait did I edit this?

Not that we won't sink,
But an eternity with,
and I(we),
it has always been
I could not stop maybe it's the ,
I had to pause again,
can it be understood that some times the words can cause some unexplainable feeling that chokes you in the back of,
I wanna find out what you said.

What I could say.

What we said.

and now,
Sep 2018 · 375
Right now is where things are going to take a turn,
The roundabout welcomes another hurried passenger,
The biker sits idle,
The circle goes on,
days past and we are again at "the last",
Round and round,
To leave is only to return,
Weaving a knot to the difference (conscious) that is me,
An infinite point watching every decision,
Only a glimpse from the rear view mirror
We are road locked, *******,
Eventruly drifting off into a sleep that could wind up taking others,
Are you alone in the car?
Are you alone in the car?
Treat you passengers with care,
Pray for a good review for when you finally stop,
Or get out and let someone else become the commander of what roundabout you take,
It may be fun.
How are you?
I fought the overwhelming sensation to let sleep take me last night,
Through lies and deceit my blinking eyes brought tears,
There is no place safe to scream in a crowded room,
Even in the places that society can only explain though means of light and dark,
You are not invisable
On mornings I wake up to a volume of busy loneliness,
A mundane blending of actions and last night thoughts,
The pause during an explanation leaves room to lose control...
This tear calls for more than a friend,
Yet that's what I find in every smile,
Every passing of the locomotive distracts from the truth y'all are hearing(reading)
It's okay,
I'm okay,
There is so much more for us to discuss,
But I can't be sure your attention span cares,
So join me in this lonely ramble,
Leave with the mind wandering, talking jibberish,
Critique, criticize, separate me from you,
Listen close to your reasons,
Because I'm going through them too,
So don't you dare judge me,
I only ask you to tell those thoughts about me and you,
I'll be over in the corner waiting for them to show up and become engaged,
I want to exist because of you.
hello out there
Aug 2018 · 5.4k
Agengda this weekend
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
Aug 2018 · 273
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,
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.
Apr 2018 · 365
I believe in you
Let me start this sentence over
I repeat,
Let me start that sentence over
I understand,
Let them start that sentence over
I declare,
Let them redo that sentence over
I concede,
Make them redo that sentence over
I consider,
Make them redo that compromise over
I influence,
Make them redo that compromise anew
Apr 2018 · 382
Nine Layered Mask
Crack me open from top of my skull to brim of my chin,
use precision or make a mess,
nine faces will reveal themselves in a sculpted row Like a airport security check I will profile you with each pair of eyes,
ask google maps for the safest route through my mind only to u-turn at each entrance and exit.

Expect a phone call although there is no disguise that expectations may fall short,
let it be possible,
inside is a lonely world,
empathy relapsed according to the prognosis,
these future visions plague the outer layers,
wrapping the inside in a string of theories.

Cut away feel the blame and guilt, these concepts have not been rooted feeding off itself,
no level of understanding between us,
we coordinate through internal trials,
the gavel caused fusing amongst its action,
how much art has been burned throughout history?

A false front I express through others eyes,
in a time, in the place,
we say goodbye anticipating a happy return,
what a rush it is to wait for the last layer to break,
to finally see all there is,
knowing we've removed the faces ment to protect what's inside,
life and death hold their breathe...
Signed Poe 9
Mar 2018 · 185
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
Mar 2018 · 465
Black Mirror
I am going to lie
On a black mirror
I wrote
Discribed in detail
how it would be done
Finished it with a signature
In the finest of gold ink
Watch it dry
I find in the words
That I spoke truth
The beauty of this lie
Had transformed from a speech
When I spoke the lie was apparent
I was able to write the truth
But when I told you
A lie is all you heard
I think I know why they call the show Black Mirror, "black mirror."
Mar 2018 · 147
Rolling (ramble 22)
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"
Feb 2018 · 459
A Gravitational Pull
I have thought of these words, not the ones you may hear when your body presses to the air, and the sound-waves go unobstructed, no the words lay here on a page, within a thought that didn't happen today but might show up tomorrow, recorded by the blood of bone, water, and metal, each etched mark, stains the memory of a time when oxygen was free and clean to breathe, finding out that the next moment these words are consumed, their meaning becomes a new personality, these thought words and the specific tact and errors, prolonging the flow from the head to the finger tips, thus causing minor adjustments, which make even the most thought out words seem like they have no true, maybe real, meaning, accused we stand, on trial, only a judge begging for a recess, but my closing statement is not finished.
I keep a thought journal with me everywhere I go and I wrote this poem inside it. the reason this is important is because when I am writing in the journal I never edit myself or stop the word flow unless the thoughts finally stop coming. But with my poetry I look over everything and edit until my words take on a personality of their own. I am pulled towards the gravity of something new.
Jan 2018 · 239
And so we sat down to talk
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,
fit into the 'in between,'
I may,
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
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,
­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,
        ­                                       Way!
that way yes it's all in our heads,
but that's okay yes yes in order to learn to breathe.
with me...
­                                                         Out...
                                                          ­         1-2-3...
let's count on our hands,
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.
Dec 2017 · 199
I gaze upon the soldiers, their colors faded of my one true blue, rows and columns of three march fluently through a courtyard, their tails flap at our change in thought...

We stand at a(n) shore the waves soft upon the coarse pink sand, hiking up through the covered trees, we see just how vast out beings can be, like  Jupiter's tears our dream changes,

Surrounded by a artificial plain of velvet black, sipping martinis and cocktails as the reclusive shadows save face for the rising sun,
and we called it finished.
Rambler & Human
Oct 2017 · 537
Under the covers,
snuggled alongside a pillow and the vibrations of a purring cat,
music pouring into my eardrums telling me the way I should view the day,
neither morning nor evening,
safe within limbo,
A place for other options,
a way to step outside the closed box world as seen on TV,
pulled out from the matrix,
out from the hive mind,
never alone,
never sad
never fearful,
As we are,
the powers of the unseen,
have spoken to me, called for me, screamed at me,
to leave this limbo and see once more all the truths and lies that leave us bare,
naked and twisted,
One form merged by two energies , chaotic and regulated balancing all to fit in this spirit,
entering the therapeutic pool,
mineral enriched,
bacteria that eats away the dead flakes of skin,
taking the pill that will exhale all toxins,
My limbo has proven secure and possessive,
the strength to leave drains from me through each comforting embrace,
but I have so much on the outside,
the hate I run from gives into my experience,
There is a reason for why the coffin looks inviting,
this desire to let the visitor win,
comes and goes like oxygen to the lungs,
sometimes I forget to breathe,
so as limbo embraces my insecurities,
hides me from temptation,
I am full of questions and answers that don't share the same bed,
all I know is I'm waiting for someone to join me.
(Save me)

My poems may seem like I'm depressed, and maybe that is a part of it (I don't think I am), but really they help me through thinking about my actions and their outcomes,
Sep 2017 · 265
Dawning a crown
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
Sep 2017 · 362
Ring, a Ring, Rings
Talking is cheap, it's past the expiration date of acceptable emotions, stuck in a frenzy of confusing texts, play by plays repeating what we missed and why we missed the call, message tones begging to break the ice, a layer so thin yet none will take the step,  fearing the cold heart will stop what love we have found, so the answer goes unheard, the one grasping for unity waits for...

A placement holder on the finger that is filled with scrutiny and assumptions, genders are to follow suit, it's required to lose any self bond commitments, like the knots tied to keep your feet in the shoes once the string breaks they are not the same, to argue that the world will change with how we flaunt our success, this is a lie that is just covered up by ignorance and obliviousness, teach these hands to hold the love given not a tool that can be forgotten...

Among the ever revolving acts that led us here, there is a convenience in the unknown, yet there is proof that the next few sentences have been said before, not that we could find the time to be proven right, the science breeds the faith of the truth, it cannot be explained as a simple loop, but complex numbers separated by breaks in a negative and positive force, once the connection has been made new and old become the same picture, sleeping in water feels similar to floating in air, fear not the breath that with surely remove us from existence, nothing was there in the first place, because when it is found we call it a miracle, a simple mistake to the insomniac with no dogma, something is not enough to be real, could it be wrong, yes, experience does not change this, even when fueled by the favor of people deemed crazy, who really thinks such things when alone.
Please comment, please message, my curiousness would like to know you add you are.
Aug 2017 · 352
A Segment
If there is no sound there will be a guidance of breathing exercises, gently rocking our over worked minds,
It is to take no offence in sleeping during routine check ups, our eyes could also use the rest, but listening is unavoidable and it will find you in the silence,
Seeps into your eardrums and upset the peaceful balance
This is a reworked(meant to be read not heard) opening for a new spoken word  poem I've written, let's hope I can perform it!
Jul 2017 · 462
The Dreaming Dancer
She steps onto the cloud with the air holding her up,
"What are our dreams but that what we wish for"
Her leg kicks outward and up forming a line bringing puffs of cloud with it,
"Do you wish for the dance or the dancer?"
Though light was unnoticed before it now breaks casting shadows along her body,
"Some dreams aren't lead by the brain"
She begins to spin curling and bending the clouds to her will,
"Some dreams come from the heart"
Her hand reaches out for a moment as though to grab a cloud,
"Are we able to merge our dreams with our dance?"
Retracing her movements the light seeps into her hand forming and orb,
"I will remember the dance"
She grasps the orb with both hands and raises it to her head,
"I will love the Dancer"
I have no idea where we are in this crazy world but if you remain within my mind you will never be forgotten and will never be far from my heart, which is a door open for you as long as you dream of it
Jul 2017 · 472
Paniced theory
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.
I've not written enough words to be ignored yet,
Between the heel and cuff you'll still find me speaking,
If my book is to long than let me break it down,
If you can't read step outside and hear my verbs on the wind,
If I write to much for you to handle quit now while my poetry is short.
Jun 2017 · 655
The drunk Liver
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.
All the lines in this poem were written while I was intoxicated throughout last year and while sober I formed then into this piece, thanks for reading
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.
Who else sits in a dark room and just talks? Not me, but catch me on the stoop speaking with the sun.
May 2017 · 301
How my fight will end
Tapping out on the cemented path,
knees, face, there is blood everywhere,

I rise, there is a brief moment of dizziness but it fades, my hands ache and feet sore,

The cry of sirens fill the air to a once silent and shocked atmosphere, not a mind surprised, nor willing to step in,

I do nothing to cover my face, with the crowd splitting in front of me like convenient stores doors,

As if the soul was struggling to stay inside, but the damage to severe for it to grasp the concept,

Dead, panned face wanting to lose all concentration, I have that wanting more feeling,

Just a lost to those who will remember, a sacrifice to remind us,

Life, is all that threatens my future, is reluctant to free anyone from its understanding,

At one moment something becomes something new, and what ever lead this act to take place,

Is completely within my control, and so I decided it end.
When I am undeniably happy with a partner, two types of poems begin to stir , it never shocks me that they are much more opposing, meaning more poems on their way.
Blogging on a piece of paper

Let me erase the title, and call this deja Vu, I feel like we've met before,


Alright then we'll **** anyways because beneath our shallow waters sinks a heavy chest.

But hear me out it's not that I'm doing this for fun and games, and there are to no depths that I cannot hold my breath, my desire is that you feel all the love I have to give,

Even if it's one second,

I may pass out, how long have I been holding my breath, was there a miss communication between my brain and (look at chest)

Look at these clothes! Fashion is to me, look good but express what I want you to see,
I'd rather be naked, only wear clothes when I have to deal with idiots in public...

Or sports, it just seems practical for some,

I know I don't have ADD or ADHD , I took those tests, but I do have a knack for puzzles, and some times I lose track of one piece for another,

So I optimize on body language, throw in opinions, to complete the lie until proven otherwise,

And When the truth hides behind the blank canvas waiting to be painted by our perspectives, it stands as naked as I am now,

And if these words are not revealing enough. find me...

and I'll call it deja vu.
Mar 2017 · 652
Inside, is this thing about me, it has stolen my voice,
It's like ash has seeped into my lungs from an invisible fire fueled by hatred, it has broken my will to stand on two legs,  a gentle world slipped out from under the covers,
In my arms a purring cat that reminds me of the ocean waves crashing along the shore of a place I once felt at peace, it's frustrating to lose track of such wonderful  memories,
I feel insane, but I am calm and understand that this is just a phase, chapters on the moon are written in the clouds in day
I realized now, either this mind is too creative than what I think capable or my abilities have left me with only formal beginnings, so breaking the mold has not left me with many options,
Indeed sleep and food will provide healing when it seems fit, but for some reason I would better wish luck could do some providing, this hard effort has made me sick,
Indebted to silence, my rain check has finally been checked off, the papers folded and what's left of the ink is saved for my last breath.
Incurable, only by my diagnosis, and only a poet am I, not a doctor, this in lies the problem,
Indifferent about such touchy topics, resorting to backtracking my statements, fair enough?
Indecisive? so are the current topics of the new world conspiracy, such a soft melody replaying in the foreground, as my mind goes out the back.
it's been awhile Mr. Poe...
Feb 2017 · 976
I am mirror face
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
Poetry has really helped with the talking to ones self, ha ha ha ha
Jan 2017 · 403
Ramble One9
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,

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.
I'm not sure what random people think of me, strangers, so I will tell them anything and everything (exceptions when money or life are involved). Then I listen to anything and everything said back to me. I have learned people need relaxed random interactions with strangers, someone you'll never see again but now knows how you hate pickles except on sandwiches (true story). I challenge you the reader. Tell one of your secrets (whether personal or about someone you know) to a stranger, change names if you want, but take to the streets, diners, buses, they are great for listening to your poetry then leave them confused and senseless or something.
Jan 2017 · 341
What does it mean to be normal?
I haven't the right answers,
But I do have judges, jurors, and observers,
So my free will is lost the moment I leave my conscious,
Dreams were an escape for me, now I watch them combat the white padded walls,
These illusions might be a noble pursuit but I feign compliance,
Deceitfulness compliments sadness or fear
We always say it's okay when it's not,
A thought in general could destroy the world,
Though our worlds compare as ants to the giants of our universe
We may not all walk the same path,
How beautiful it is to end as equals,
One day I may write a lie that becomes normal speech
I'll still be rambling what does it mean.
We all find  something to smile about, for me it's the confusion that is life.
Don't fret on the lost or broken, rebuild and  look to where you'll find happiness
Jan 2017 · 591
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.
Jan 2017 · 817
Sheep King Cortez
I open my mouth to speak to a crowd of  unsimulated sheep, I was a king then, I am a king now, but I've never seen a bow, I conquer minds, unravel the individual sign write on it I am not hungry but I would love some common courtesy, seeing pass the facade of happy caring faces, we are all like ogres thick layers of self doubt, piecing together a broken fault, the best release may be inner peace, but our perfect creations become corrupted at the slightest tease, how am I to speak when no one reads, there are so many screens invading the scene, even now there is a glow upon your face, and the sheep are beckoning the insomniac to sleep, the choice is when, the decision cannot be corrected by easy pill supplements, conspiracies, floating in a pool of ignorance, calling out each others name as life lines, together our words may blanket the eyes, forming the disguise that reveals the truth hidden within I
Dec 2016 · 365
Read. write. read. Death
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?
I'd like to ask a favor of my fellow reader,
Think of a words you see on hello poetry that tend to repeat, post them to this wall, or message me, but if like to make a poem out of repetition. Thanks and enjoy.
Dec 2016 · 509
Hu-man (awakening)
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.
Thoughts from Poe9
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.
Brave souls we be
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
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)
"I want so badly to believe that love is real"
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.
What's up? how's life treating you? Ask me questions, give me suggestions, message me. Let's ramble
Nov 2016 · 721
Two worlds
I dream awake as a silent dragon with a jade arm and no sense of one's self,
I can talk for days losing complete track of one topic to another but I'll keep you entertained
I am the child of a man of word and a woman of nature, cursed by the nine to see truth,
I welcome all into the conversation, I am trusting that all trust me
This dragon kills for what seems like no reason, he's killed kings, presents, giants, pawns, friends and even gods,
if you harm me so be it, if you touch my family I'll ******* torture you, death would be to pleasant for what I have in mind
Sometimes my dreams mash with reality imposing faces onto characters, and traits into powers,
I'm personable, and a omnist, opening all the time
This provides me with challenges everyday since no one is exactly an enemy or ally and remain as such throughout the daydreams,
I assert my presence in many forms of art
He has adapted or evolved as I have learned more of reality causing him to believe he's immortal,
I am inclined to mention that we may all look a bit crazy sometimes
The really funny thing is his day shares mine but our nights are spent in his,
I am always here for you or at least do my best
However each night he's sitting on a roof planning the heist of little importance, only to discover a powerful elven princesses trapped so he frees her and they escape,
though I may be a hypocrite about some statements
Then the dragon decides before he sleeps that night that he will help the princess find out who she is,
*I am simply me and nothing else, you are so much more
Nov 2016 · 706
Two cardinals bathe in the creek as I'm lost in thought about how beautiful you seem to me
It's true I was thinking about you
Nov 2016 · 257
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.
Oct 2016 · 382
Ramble qu
**** the words that i've failed to Concoct
i am angry about you and hOw you think
this is not personal it Never was
sometimes things just seem Very wrong but listen
on the outside i act kinda strOng inside i'm cultured bones
nothing except atoms pLaying out there lives together
so ******* for any and all assumptions that i can't be more
just like you, just like god, just like earTh, just like the spiritual
everything is Eternal
Destined to change
Please read to yourself the last two lines one more time.
I cast a line out
                             ­  N
                           ­           T
Fishing for a thought better than the one I have waiting in the depths, floating on a stick with noodles attached, courageous in effort as the light has long since gone out,
As the buoyancy effects my dreams, My Fingers curl around the pole sensing what could happen if I let go, Still Fighting with myself arguing my existence in this empty air,
Might change the world or could end it, I am starving for a thought new as my balance is lost and the waters envelope me
Eying               the surface I see               the water     is       clear reflecting   upon   itself
  My                 body passes the               hook
Suspended by a floating rod, I turn from my life line and spread my arms hoping to slow my Faith, No thoughts come to mind,
                                ­    At
              ­                                Bottom
It's eyes locking onto mine, a smile welcoming me to lay she makes no effort to move or catch me, we seen in sync as I float over her

We embrace,

This is the thought I was wishing for? A hushed lip meets mine, our first breath in a space where I thought it wasn't possible,
Are we rising or are the waters disappearing as I catch a wink of my hook and rod, my hands press believing that this is real as I feel yours on my back,
There is so much more, the possibilities are endless, are goals may differ, but we are flying and nothing will stop us from floating among all the thoughts we once belonged to be below us.
I wrote this a little while back but could not resist the temptation to post it. Enjoy
Sep 2016 · 470
Sheep & Kings
Reasons why I'm only a man with culture in my bones, broken among the faces exposed by the melody hiding from the metal, something's are just more desirable, like a woman with long legs and an ***, or a smile from the cute guy who's your friends neighbor, chilling in the back porch playing the world news through a saxophone, I've only got bad stories but here's a song that will show you glory, because no matter the horrors we see there is one ******* person just trying to be... among the sheep, wearing the wolf cowl just a baby afraid of being eaten, I am the crow calling out the bluff, we will all fall to death, and thus my mind is set...
That my second reason only be my best, you all know my key to a stress free life, become the pawn, but do not forget that a pawn can become a queen but I plan to take the king, trap him in the corner make him fold under pressure, a strategy play that requires training and struggle, so in the shadows of Mordor I wait causing havoc as a ghostly rambler of fate, meeting our hero in the fields of Hyrule as a Poe, that instead of attacks questions who is really good, why is there evil? Does the relation to our past connect us on better level, simple pleasures now become concocted dreams of the could have and may achieve, we are face to face with our mirror, a figure that looks the same but never moves, now this is how I break the law, I leave my spot to move forward because my mirrors goal is only to appear in in front of me, so let it chase me I'll become the king and then let my reflection become a dream to conquer, but only with an army of you, and me.
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