As the pen dips
Words jolt out
Violently at first

As the pen writes
Soothing thoughts
Disrupted of peace

As the ink dries
The words rest
Taking meaning on paper

I will Fix you,
I swear I can,
Take my hand you'll see.

I can Fix you,
Just a Little bit of Love,
Maybe a bit of tape for your heart.

Some how I'll Fix you,
No matter how long it takes,
Or the distance needed to travel.

I will Fix you
I can Fix you
because,
Some how you Fixed me

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.

We sit along the bottom of the ocean,
Minds bending along with the light,
Our ears listening to the depths of our hearts,
It's a long journey to return to the surface,
So we sit bearing the pressure of the souls

Oh how I wish to reach the moon,
I hope to be there soon,
So bright,
It guides me at night,

Look man holds a piece of moon,
I can't help but swoon,
Closer now closer,
Faster now faster,

I will reach the moon
Oh to soon

zsst

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

The blue waters hushing the land,
The sun hides behind the clouds stilling the land,
the winds breeze brushing the flowers,
in Ireland the land speaks


She makes me dream
I laugh at the thought of her
It is as though she has set me free
she makes me dream
The most wonderful dreams

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.

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

The dreams of many fall upon shoulders of the young and restless,
We praise for  a new day, everyday, to be a better day...
"Today is the better day" I say, But don't quote me on that,
It's true It's true, what you hear the beating in your ears,
Rhythm...
It's there just hold your breathe and listen,
Don't forget how important it is to think,
But what to think? What if, Who, oh it's pointless to think,
Hold that breath I am not finished...
What a weight we carry, and look how far we have to go,
We call for arms, for peace, for our way...
****, our way?
My way.
This is getting confusing, this teaching
That I am speaking
I just did that to rhyme...
Look at the weight I've shed, how I stand and breathe,
Here in front of you,
How I can ramble a poem for the teeth,
Hear no whispers, just my voice,
Today is now, I am perfect now, this is my way...
Now Breathe...

Have you ever been lost?
I'm not the one who has.
Yet I think you are.
Have you ever looked up?
I see a moving sky.
Yet you believe it is unmoving
Have you ever disliked Crying?
I tend to cry for fun.
Yet you resist the tears.
Have you ever been angry with me?
I don't know why you would be.
Yet I feel like you are.
Have you ever wondered what people think of you?
I've never met you, but I think of you.
Yet you have only now thought of me.
Have you ever thought you are beautiful?
I don't think I am.
Yet you may be think I am.
Have you ever asked yourself questions that no one else can answer?
I am asking my self some right now.
Yet you are waiting for this to end.
Have you ever thought about stopping?
I might soon
Yet you won't
Can I ask you a question?
I think it's a good question
Yet you may have your own
Isn't it wonderful what we think?
I think about it a lot.
Yet maybe you do too.

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.

Some times I stop to write,
There is never a reason for it,
I just stop and write,
I try not to follow any parameters,
See what I did there?

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?

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

The wind tends to blow east to west,
The waters flow from north to south,
This is all the knowledge that we know,
Yet it is the fire that spreads from east to west, north to south,
Knowledge won't save our ******* lives from this disaster,
For we started the fire
We are the Fire
and as the saying goes
Fight Fire with Fire
Or ...

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

Thoughts are used to create a dream,
Dreams are used to create reality,
Reality is used to create life,
Life creates you &
You create thoughts.

One Way
In a million ways
to say one word,
I can only express it
one way,
Though my eyes.


Heart

As my heart beat faster
the world slows
As her heart beats fast
the world breathes
As we hold hands
the world stops.

In the end there was me
No one else from coast to coast

There was other things
Horses, Deer, Cats, dogs
Everything else that we know now

Earlier there was me and many
Not any more
****

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"

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.