Probe me antagonists,
For I am no longer afraid-
Of your shunning or your lynching,
Or stoning, or blade.

You all stare with luscious eyes,
Jealous, cruel-fiends.
Malicious and vindictive,
Hating by all means.

Under the sheets-
Gasping beyond belief,
You kick me,
I can not breath.

No longer am I easy,
No longer  tease to please.
Sick with rage and frustration,
Consumed like a disease.

I know when you lie to me,
The only question is why?
Who said you could judge?
Who made you GOD when they died?

Stare at me, look into my eyes!
Oh how I trusted you and you made me cry!
Let down, alone
I crumble by his side.

Running from reality, he holds me at night.
When silent sobs seep from inside.
I wanna scream, but instead I hide.
And sedate myself from your hellish wealth,
And your perfect life,
And your easy ride.

I'm alone and I'm fine.
I do not need you to pry.
Or to pity me as I die.

Twisted and dismayed;
I am ******- but definitely unafraid.
Foolish and used,
Ill live to see another day.

And the pain you caused will finally fade.
And the love we knew will be replaced.
I'm moving on and out of place.
I don't need you, or your approving face.
And all of its grace.

Your drama and chilling pace-
Graphic and slow, savor the chase.
God what a waste.
People just love to hate.

'Round and 'round,
Stuck in their rut of a mental state.
Dyeing, hell-bent on leaving a trace,
On hurting and watching me break.

Karma neither is predictable,
Nor is it fast.
One day you'll bear the burden
And the pain of an outcast.

You sure are a tricky one
creeping inside my thoughts.
Suppressed my memories as well as I could,
but your spirit I haven't forgot.
Lovers, we were not.
Companions-
you always fought.
But yet I bleed,
for your soul I need.
To share this
wealth of knowledge
I bought.
Missing your words,
beyond conceived.
self-infliction,
aware-
I created this grief.
Knowing full well
the solution I seek.
Hiding from you,
for I'm just too weak.
And fear that if we speak
you will cower in disbelief.
You will un-hide,
the scars inside,
that nobody wishes to see.
I do miss you friend,
return soon to me please.

The house I lived in was like a chorus
of five-hundred elementary school-age children,
singing with all their might.

No mention or worry
to whether they hit the right note or not,
all that matters is that they try.

The air rings with carefree melody,
dancing and charismatic.
Rhythmic- full of life, love, and passion.

The house I lived in was perfect--
in all its imperfection.

Lamenting lost love
hidden behind harmonies,
(synonymous to symphony)
resonates absently.
Like making love
to a stranger.
Like you make love
to me.
Void of all passion,
like revenge of apathy.
Apathetic entirely,
the emptiness that fuels you
emphasizes decrees.
Standard-less standards
validate your need
to dismantle the mantled,
and devour the diseased,
to command and to seize,
to exploit the exploited,
and explore every scene—
every pelvis, and every scream.

How did I fall for such a—
loveless being?
Better yet,
How do I disintegrate re-memories,
Or abolish aplitic fallacies,
and survive soullessly?
(How must I do these things!?)
Here I plead
surrounded, unattentively,
summoning recognition
for the being
whom resides in me.

Resurrecting old wounds,
(chore almost seems daily)
almost seems like it’s alive,
like maybe one day
it might save me.
More likely, one day
it will concave me.  

But without knowledge
there is no upset.
And no upset means
no you and me.

Lyrical—
like poetry in motion.
Rhythmic—
like the motion of the ocean.

Fluid like a breeze
passin with great ease,
Movin through the branches
Dancin through the leaves.

Flowin like my mind,
Going over time,
puffin on some trees,
Like truth I’m bout to find.
Stayin on my grind.
Leavin fear behind.
Blastin through the cosmos
like my stars are all aligned.
Quantum physics redefined,
The beauty of being kind.
Travel thru dimensions,
A universal mastermind.

This illusory time
alluding to retain us-
Yet the conscious mind
refuses to contain us.

Recondition of the masses,
Before time comes to pass us.
before it’s all too late
Start movement to change
Let’s wake each other up
Let’s take control over our fate.

Again and again,
Love it till it’s over,
live it till it’s fin.


A reflection of your life spent,
a vessel that you’ve been lent,
so go forth with intent.

Gratitude for all worth
Know you are important
Every breath, and all birth.

Your light that resides true
In the poetry inside you.
The vibration stays fluid,
Like the love that is intuit.
You’re a medium— a conduit.
Yeah, now you’re catchin onto it.

High frequency—-
Waves of love
True vibrancy,
Bonds—-
you are free of.

Faith in self,
No need for vaunt,
lovin what you have
not havin what you want.
Give it all you got
till you got nothin left,
Then take the deepest breath
And give it once again.

Oh t.v.-
how I despise thee.
Consuming the hearts
and the minds of the weak.
Living their days,
only to see,
what gossip they find
on the next celebrity.
Disgusting *******-fiends!
Destroying all the peace!
Probing at these lives
of whom they wish
that they could be.
Discover your own life already!
Uncover all the lies already!
Quit wasting your days
conforming your ways,
for your end will be fast and steady.

In a world of reality and concrete,
We exist in opposition.
While you reside in the physical and tangible,
I resonate in the mystical.  
Our realms do not meet.

If I could alter my position in the stars,
For you I would.
I'd skew the right angle at which we sit
So we could finally see eye-to-eye.

I would be the flames for your airy aura to feed.  

If I could-
I would..

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
Her heart holds Him, but her hand aborts.
Searching for confirmation of a better world,
She prays to discern it, but without worship.
A believer she is, yet still fully skeptical.
She deciphers reflections from the gnostic,
The reality from the deceptive.
And hoping to fully and optimally filter the fictive
She dances with Him, going solely with the wind,
To wherever His capriciousness takes her.
She bows upon His whim.

I'm pretty sure all poetry has left me.
As if it just packed up and hit the road.
Like my words no longer dance or sing.
Like they have forgotten all melodies.
Assimilated tone deafness.
Compound letdowns retract vulnerabilities.
Brick walls and leather skin replace possibilities.
Reckless love and whimsical fantasies,
Replaced by ***** diapers and piles of laundry.
Consonants and vowels blend to mush.
Aches and accomplishments are one in the same.
All of my agony has turned to apathy,
And I wonder.
How could I let poetry walk away from me?
How have I become so broken that I can no longer write?
Words have no ability to woe me.
Vocabulary is no longer my saving grace.
Void of creativity.
Like somehow life has gotten too messy for me to express.
Series of catastrophes and celebrations run together.
And I feel lost.
And I feel blessed.
But oh so empty.
Poetry come back to me.

Near 90 degrees outside today.
I did go out there once, maybe twice.

I'm wearing a sweatshirt (with the hood up)
and some basketball shorts
('cause it is near 90 degrees out today).

Lingering stares and strange faces
burn holes in the side of it.

"Whats with the hoodie?" she said.
I grinned the utmost, forged,
forced pirate-smile, i had faked,
in the longest of long whiles.

I pivoted to hide my tears.

"Its nearly 90 degrees outside,"
she is saying.
...little does she know...
inside this hood-
its raining.

In a midnight lamentation,
the soul (suppressed) of reprobation,
wallowed in wasted conspiracies-
unjust (censored) confirmations.

My shoes (foundation) which were half on,
stained the beer (love), which was half gone,
that he camped- (devoted) so entitled,
marvelously, (masculine) so magnificently upon.

Ongoing obstacles, alluring alike,
repressed restraints depicted, despite-
ones that evaded, encompassed our love,
which freshly, faithfully, finally took-flight.

That beer (blazing) tottered so temping-
wrongfully, radiantly, reluctantly-right!
It swiveling-and-spinning, (dangling) around the axis of life,
Makes this, yet another- lamentation in the night.

Luminescent sacrifism
concocting inside
this bountiful prism.
Succumb to division,
reciprocations to decisions
unholy in thought
occupying this prison.
Unknown-
the only variable that's given.
Uncover the conspiracies
in this tank that you live in.
Revealing whats hidden,
believe and be smitten.
Luminescent little prism,
dreaming this dream
of a bountiful
sacrifism.

The shyest prize
who sings, but lies,
climatically waves
as she bats her eyes.

With her head held high
the sun can shine,
yet within her dismissal
she'll finally hide.

On display, in such-
a courageous way.
She pretends to be
the smile she fakes.

Inadequate- she'll say.
Trembling with fear
you cannot read
on her face.

The shyest prize,
she sings, yet lies,
falsifies the fear,
and pain in her eyes.

Serene- complete.
She only ventures- to be.
Plays this role
nobody can see.

have you ever tried to drown in your own bathtub?
it doesn't really work.
unless yours is around five feet deep (or more),
it probably didn't work for you either.
sadly mine is standard.
maybe a foot and a half of water-
at the most.
and when i laid down to drown,
the water barely covered my face.
blasphemy!
maybe i should try face down,
then in my very own tub-
i might actually be able to drown.

She asked me if I need you
though the walks
the talks
were blue.

Burdened with the headache,
the fear of something new-
repercussions to this decision-
an advocate much
   too valuable
to loose.

Harbor this fugitive of our love that runs deep,
obliterating oceans and barriers between.
Deciphering the waste from the optimally,
landing on my feet
means everything;
maintaining my faith,
a necessity.

Overwhelmed and anxious, I find relief-
in a sense of stability
in the event I flee.
        Always a way out,
        but not always-
back to thee.

She asked me if i need you,
but my response was meek.
"I wonder if I'll need him-
while floating out to sea..."

Failure to flee,
Preemptively,
Has lead me to be,
Alone with 3.
6 little hands,
30 tiny toes,
1 broken heart,
4 hopeful souls.

True bliss comes
in reinvention of the self,
when zero
expectations are held.

Yet you still
have full faith
in the numerous
possibilities that await.

Afflicted upon by mass ****** suffering.
Unable to decipher whether internally or ex.
I tremble under the wash of black that engulfs all light touches.
Blurred vision, impaired by sheer surprise.
Alone and ripe.
Black and blue.
Inside and out.
I fight for nothing;
For a man that knows no loyalty.
Broken hand.
Broken heart.
Broken home.
Four years of come and go,
Two and fro,
Back and fourth,
Lie some more.
Four years I'd loved him.
Forever in my heart.
Foolish I chose such, no honor,
no respect.
Little effort. Lazy ***.

Why did you do this to me?
What's the point?
Because I couldn't cook to your liking?
Because I wasn't freaky enough in bed?
Because I wanted you all to myself?
9 vehicles, 4 houses, 1 warehouse,
And yet you can't spare a thing for your family?
Our 3 year old cries to go home.
But we have no home.
It sits empty.
Void like the space where your heart used to be.
While me and your 2 children,
Soon to be three,
Share one small room,
As I work my *** off to try to make it out.
Almost 5 months pregnant,
Searching for work.
Begging for a miracle.
I'll never understand this.
I hate you.
How could you care so little?
Why?
I just wish I knew why..

Quitting is never easy.
Falling into the mundane,
Living in the crevices of routine,
Now that's simple.
Not a problem.
Repetition comes like a dance.
You reside in each move,
Numb,
Mindless.
Muscle memory does all the work.
Until the music runs out.
And you stand without motion.
Without direction.
You realize you have been dancing,
For ages,
But have no idea what moves you even made.
Hollow,
Yet you have this dance.
Activivating automatically.
And as the awareness grows stronger,
That urge to repeat,
Grows dimmer and dimmer.
Until one day finally,
After ages of practice,
The music begins
Yet you refuse to dance.

I live in a house of glass.

I wash the windows,
just as I wash my ***.

I sport shredded socks,

I never admit when I am wrong,
and almost always

throw rocks.

If I could still write poetry-

I'd write about how you betrayed me.
I'd make it a lyrical nursery
That gently cradled all my insecurities.

They'd bounce around from wave to wave,

Like an ominous symphony.
Synomous to love,
yet fueled by defeat.

If I could still write poetry.

I'd write about being second best,
I'd write about loosing you, and
Above all else- loosing rest.

If I could somehow still write-

Maybe this feeling would flee.
Perhaps then I could show you.
Perhaps then you could see.

i once gave all my secrets away.
i gave all my hopes and dreams,
                                       even the horrible things.
i loved whole-heartedly,
                  one fragment at time.
                                       i did do that once in my life.
burn.

i attempt to unravel, undress
these barriers now standing-between
                  
you  a n d  me.

i fear the parts i gave along the ride,
are presently no longer mine
to own,
              they were stolen somewhere-
                                              upon the irrecoverable road.
i search subdued secrets
                                   and invisible inclinations-
only to find,
              what appears to be,
this tattered tangled                                                 twisted mind.
                is diminished by
                                         long-lost-leftover             love.
                                                             stale but           dispensing
hopes and dreams,
                                     even the horrible things.
so long as you promise
to keep them somewhere safe

i promise                                         one day,
                to open locked gates-
                                              and give to YOU
                                                                            all my secrets away.

it only hurts
because i need you
to love me
like i do you
because i
see in your eyes
loving me is a
battle you despise
i felt it fade
furiously
like a majestic beast
tearing through me

it only hurts because
i love you

I would give anything to make you coffee.
To hold your gaze in the blissful, morning silence.
I would pet your mind, discreetly.

I would give anything to be the fly on your wall.
To just attain your advances.
To see your smile.
To harvest the scent of your hair.
I would let you love me.
I would provide you the promises that I once could not.

...just another morning rant.

my only memory of you now.
many moons ago.
language barriers between us.
but you seemed happy.
seemed to smile.
a universal language.
emotion.
even dogs speak it.
dominoes.
and crystal light.
spanish conversations.
my imagination
could only fill.
but smiles.
dad looked so proud.
proud to see us all-
in one room,
in one state.
i hope you made it
to the golden gates.
i hope he gives you the key.
i can't wait to meet you there.
one day.
so we can finally converse.
and reminisce.
universally.

Sometimes I like to stare in the mirror.
Not because of vanity.
Not because of conceit.
Purely to see my own energy.
To look straight into my own soul.
My reflection releases me,
Reminds me this is just temporary.
I love to look at myself,
And notice something new everyday.
The days pass and I change.
I grow.
Not up or down.
But sideways.
And around.
I reflect on the past.
And even the future too.
I look in the mirror and I see.
I see.

In a broken bond,
Uncontested disarray
Retrieves this love,
For which, neither convey.

In an unholy testimony,
Vows they bleed
Upon half-heart promises,
And lies we believed.

Contradictions and misconceptions
Are the sum of our demise.
He wallows in self-pity,
This comes as some surprise.

All of these truths
Hadn't long been subdued;
Yet he weeps incessantly,
As if he had no clue.

As if he had no chance,
No reason or rhyme.
As if I never told him,
As if he hadn't had the time.

Whites now blend
To blacks and blues.
Increasing injustice
Distinguished the two.

In this *******,
Sedation suggests-
Temporary comfort
While we fail this test.

Retrieving this love,
For which neither of us convey,
Our bond is broken-
Uncontested disarray.

I could sit here with you
                                                forever.
Sta­ring into the sky.-
Melting into your           soul.
Not needing noise.
Modestly moving,
Embracing each-others warmth.
You owe me nothing,
Yet you offer the
                                               world.
I love you, ILoveYou,          I          LOVE          YOU!!!

             ­                     You are the roots
                                                           ­           To my tree.