Let's live life
in a fashion magazine.
Never slow down,
ever changing.
We'll be what’s in
and far from all.
All the important stuff
will get so small.
The only responsibility
will be to look chic,
fit and nice.
I bet everything's much easier
when thinking too much isn't your vice.

Blaring my factory installed speakers,
making sure to always use my blinkers,
taking each song
and making it my own.
-my very own fight song
-my very own flight song

-the louder the better

The harder the wetter;
faster to break these
god ****** fetters.
its mine its mine
it makes me shine
listening to my solace
is well spent time

The notes of the song -
the quarter notes
the half notes,
eighths and sixteenths
triplets and all variations -

they form in my brain
through the speaker to my ears
and form a picture,
ever flowing and moving
that depicts, sometimes,
your face and your body.

Images of different sorts
some with color and some with out
that can relax and satiate
or do the opposite
and deviate
from the normal cooing
of my heart,
creating an anxiety matched by no other.

The pictures becoming what I see in front of me
as I walk around in life. My brain and nerves -
dancing along
singing their own words to the song
and making everything right
that was once wrong.

And I’m not sure if you will get this
and understand what I mean
but I know my thoughts will never be clean
of images from sounds
dancing all around.

For some strange reason,
by some weird force,
I was drawn to my book
as the open land
does a horse
Like:
                  Addict; drug
                        as
                  dust; under the rug
so deeper and deeper I dug
to find more words
and more verbs.
More adventures in my brain
as I seek to entertain
        -a rhythm to maintain
              -but no tempo to sustain

my pen
my pen
with its ink
made by men
its my sword
its my gun
my armor
and my fun
It's my friend
and my enemy
my scapegoat
and my ride
its my hope
its my love
its my dream
and my pride.

Lesson one
“Subvert the dominant paradigm”
that’s what I was told.
That’s what I hold.
       -that’s my truth
               my mission
                    my hope
and our lesson.

Finding symbolisms
that connect you-
to me
scents and sights
that set my heart free

Baby,
my love is not a bribe,
nor my body or words
or my compassion
or played-out verbs…

What drives this force-
to me, is un-known
and these feelings
have done nothing but grown.

Like a thief in a bank-
my thoughts are more tempestuous
than the Devil driving a tank…
though nothing destroyed
will satiate.

And no words, no gifts,
nothing I can create
will be enough to show
the colors you make me see
-and the melodies in every key
that manifest with-in
every time you are near.

I don’t mean to over do it
or create a sense of fear
nor do I worry
that you may disappear.
circumstances and situations
of many assortments and arrays;
with or without you
will not hinder me
living through the day.

I just simply wish
I could write
the most compelling lines to you,
to move the world-
move the soul
-to make you proud
and feel completely whole.

To bombast all senses,
and knock down fences,
to alert the universe:
that you are in my heart
- to stay.