I'm lost in the jungle. It's so dense and vast.
Makes me wonder if I'll ever get out.
I keep moving forward, trying to escape.
It's no use though. The darkenss misleads me.
Continuously in circles I wander.

It's so hard to move. The vines engulf me.  
Tangled in them I struggle.
If only I had a blade, a machete of some sort.
Something to free me, detach me,
let me flow through this jungle as the river does.    
  
Constricted, alone with my discomfort,
I deal with the vines myself. Embrace them, natural and bare.
It's hard. Feels almost impossible.  
But on my own, by myself, of my own will, I sever them.  
A subtle gratitude is felt. A sense of accomplishment expereinced.

Glimmers of light sparkle through the canopy. A path emerges.
It was obscured in the shadows of the vines.
On this path the jungle feels so different.
Observing the trees and creatures,
There's a calmness, a peaceful harmony.
  
The path leads to a peak. At that summit I gaze the treetops.
Shining radience touches everything. Many paths lead to this peak.    
Seeing the jungle as it really is, I ponder. A realization is had.
No matter where in the jungle I am, the sun is always shining.
Whether I can see it or not, a pathway out is always there.

Within the jungle I was lost.
Above the jungle I am found.

Let's be like leap year.
Let's leap through time
leaving behind
all our agony and tears.
Let's head to a future
where surrounded by close peers
we could just be ourselves,
no longer filled with fear.
We'd do things our way.
No longer would we adhere
to a broken system and society  
where things are never as they appear.
There would be no such ambiguity.
Things would be done in complete sincerity.
We would be the premier engineers
in this radical new frontier.
So, if your ready
let's leave this time behind
let's leap to a better future,
a future with a little more peace of mind.

Naked branches
now scratch
cold wind

Leaves fell
and with them
his coping
mechanism

Within
with him
thoughts stay
no longer swaying
away

something to look forward to
during the cold dark nights
of being

making each transition
from light to dark
and dark to light
something equally, beautifully
admirable

striving to be
a beacon of
light, love, and warmth

sending all
in all directions
nonjudgmentally

my wisdom is wasted on you.
i share and share
and still you know not what to do.
when life's too much, you gaze and grieve
but be assured
leaves won't always be there to ease.
do not mistake yourself big
for you are truly little -
a weak resolve and your heart is so brittle.
you need to grow up and actually live
you need not only take, but actually give
stop trying not to be hurt and not hurt others
there's a balance in everything
and you need to find it, brother.

Do what you really want,
not what you were told to do.
**** it, don’t be blunt.
Do you.
It’s your life, not theirs.
You might mess up, but who cares.
That’s life.
You’re bond to experience some strife.
The world we live in a little meh, but there’s still some glory.
It’s hard to come across but you’ll find it, don’t worry.
ENOUGH TALKING, START LIVING, GO CREATE YOUR STORY!

You might find yourself asking life why
With little to no response, you'll want to cry
At wits end with almost nothing left to give
Please remember, life wants you to live
To flourish and thrive
doesn't need, but wants you to survive
Wants you to walk not crawl
Maintain a balance, not have it all
Live for yourself or another
Feel the love of our earthly mother
So if you've fallen, rise
Please don't let the temporary be your demise
Life is sure to bless you with a new surprise
All you need to do is continue to try

We are living wonders.
Our bodies, our minds, our souls,
unfathomably intricate beyond all knowing.
The true essence our being,
a microcosm of unlimited possibility.

Living in wonder.
Behold the marvels of this vast universe.
Consumed by the mysterious unknown,
desperately we seek to understand it,
eagerly trying to grasp all that is.

Wondering why we live.
What purpose is there for our existence.
Many say this. Others say that.
All answers become more questions.
Forever we wonder.

We are living wonders,
Living in wonder,
Wondering why we live.

There's something about living in this ice cold desert called loneliness.
Just makes you appreciete the little things in life.

Like when someone gives you a hug,
its like the sun peaks up over the horizon,
filling your body with overwhelming warmth,
melting away all the ice,
thawing out your frozen soul.

Feels so **** good...

You hope that it'll be everlasting and never leave,
but the sun sets,
and it does.

Now your cold again.

Sleep does little to help.
Threads come loose
slowly but surely
forming a noose.
Choking on faculties
that make me reconsider
cold hard realities.
Reassurance was never my friend
it would just silently laugh
as I fell to my end,
still falling...

You took my breath away,
but not in a good way.  
Loving you was like breathing without oxygen; impossible.
Yet I tried anyways,
and suffocated.

Each remembrance
of her kiss
leaves me in
an agonizing bliss.

Her passion and love, I admire.
It fuels and ignites
these chemical fires.

Libido
coursing through my veins,
engulfing me
in lust filled flames.

My love for her
itches at my flesh.
I can only suppress
these feelings
for moments
at best.

I'm forced to endure
for this is the consequence
of loving her.

During those long, tedious 9-5 days,
glancing out the workplace windows,
sometimes I'll wish nothing more than
to just go outside and lie in the grass.
As I would lie there bathing in sunlight
the ground would come up, grab me
keeping me rooted in its dirt,
while the wind
would blow away my troubles.  

Some days I actually visualize it.
Me, slogging away the days work,
somehow whimsically stumbling outside.
I would arrive at the grass tired,
with a sad, dead look in my eyes.
Magically, the earth would rise up to greet me.
Hugging me, taking me in, it would whisper
"It's ok, your home now."

The love of the universe is all around.
Only in stillness of mind can it be found.
Quite yourself and just listen to its sound.
Peace and bliss is what will be found.

In the euphoric silence of nothingness
letting go of everything that is
returning to your original state of being,
hatred fades
peace remains.

Light pulses throughout;
illumination fills the vessel.

Your soul
clean and clear
free of weight
can now fly.

in stillness
I saw the movement of heart and mind.
it was then i realized it was time
to let go and unwind.
now, i feel fine

more than fine
it really is sublime
this feeling...
it's a state of healing,
a pealing away of being
seeing more than I am

was engulfed
by thoughts, lost in the chaos
the shadows moving
i wonder if it's proving
that there's more than just light
maybe let's not fight
the dark

in that shadowy realm of thought
a silent angel sat down and taught
me the tribulations of what was sought.

it was natural to feel that way
never will i forget that day
i found myself, within myself
and then
there was really nothing left to say,
only to forgive.
in that moment, it was time to live

Our relationship has always been bumpy,
harboring nothing more than hatred and discontent
towards one another.
A part of me held hope that things would get better
between you and I,
between mother and son,
but
    the words
          you said
              that day...

"That's your problem - always asking why. You need to stop asking questions all the time, and just do what your told."

In that moment
I knew
that all hope was lost,
for your son is a wonderer
and will never stop wondering.
Until you understand that,
I guess you'll always consider me a misbehaved brat.

Why do you make it so hard
to like you.
Judging everything I do
judging just to judge
grudging against everything
I've come to know and love.
Why?
Why do you try so hard
to outwit and misfit me,
trying to create conflict
where I only feel glee.
This, what you've labelled, "condescending tone"
is me just wanting you to leave me the **** alone.
I grow tired of your *******,
honestly don't know how much longer
I can continue to endure it.
Your words nothing but bashful, always quick to berate,
you constantly threaten and try to intimidate.
Then wonder why I'm filled with so much hate
towards you,
acting like it came out of the clear blue.

Sometimes I would like to step into your fairytale
and try to cause as much hell
as you believe me to be doing.
Fortunately though,
I have nothing like that brewing.
If you'd let me, I'd show you my world,
hopefully breaking you out of that ignorant spell.
You know - seeing is believing.
Maybe then you'd be able to tell
just how stupid you were being.

When...
When did we stop being a family?
Really, it's kind of a sad tragedy
that my love for you
only exist
in memories.

A let go and release,
a subtle masterpiece.

The moment's true treasure
nothing comes close when measured.
There, everything's beautiful
even the painful and the sorrowful.
The realized sensation of life happening
lost in the nature of true being,
every cell in the body tingles
all sensations perceived twinkle.
Spoken of as the 'here and now'.
I can almost only express it as 'Oh my, wow'.

Alive and realized,
euphoria crystallized.
That is *the natural high.

Night time is
the time to be alive
a time to thrive
the time to be
everything yet nothing.
See,
at night time
many forms come about
but
without substance
they might as well be
an empty glass of water.

Night time madness
roars in the shadows
tip toeing between
shimmers of artificial radiance
followed by a maniac fever
that dances on the edge
of the incurable.
An influenza of self-indulgence
that leaves you in
a perpetual euphoria.

You know, it's not enough.
We need more than just happiness.
We need a little chaos.
Something to remind us why happiness feels the way it does.
Simply put,
The challenges we face, the struggles we go through
To over come those obstacles,
Makes living all the more worthwhile.
Without struggle, without some kind of turbulence,
Life gets pretty **** boring

I wouldn't call myself a poet.
I'd say that my being
is constantly bleeding
varied thoughts and convoluted feelings.
And the only cloth I have to clean myself up with
is rhythmic metaphor.

It's friday.
It's pay day.
The week's over and I bring in some revnue.  
Time to use this hard earned money
to live, provide, to continue to thrive.
Also it being the weekend and me not having to work,
I can do the things I want to do now.
I can enjoy a little time to myself.

Now I can live.
Right?

Wrong.

Reality soon hits
like a glass of spilled water
on a brand new laptop computer.

The realization of
bills to be paid,
more work to be done,
is a painful one
to someone
already suffering from
a chaotic life and societal blues.
    
Mr. Paycheck comes and goes
making you wait that much longer
to get the resources needed to reach your goals.
Ms. Weekend never stays
because her time's always spent
on more work for the weekdays.

For a moment your happy because
moments anticipated come.
It's odd.
We wait for those moments of joy,
for those specific moments to live,
yet waste the majority of our lives away
in moments unwanted.  
Why do we encapsulate our happiness into moments
then wait for those moments to come around?

Sigh.
These depressing thoughts slowly fade.  
They'll probably be back; no doubt about that.
But, since the moment's arrived
in which these thoughts no longer thrive
Now, I can live...
Right?

she said
he taught me to write in different dimensions
free myself into expression

in the writing it was clear
her words painted not pictures
but emotions.

her brush
rhythmical experience
her canvas
their soul

Regardless the pain
the day to day suffering
try to maintain
a sane mind.

Depressing thoughts will come
naturally like the weather
creating dark, shadowy clouds within mind.
Your life might become frozen,
put in standstill bind
but stay calm, try to unwind
be aware of the coming sunshine.

Overcoming adversity
refines the spirit, creating true beauty
in how you now have the ability
to help others with their insecurities.
You can be their purity,
the living example of what could be.

Power resides in action.
Please ponder on this abstraction.

The ability to carry out,
to produce great outcomes,
is something we are not without.
You can determine what becomes.

So,
why did the fly have to die?
Or,
why did the fly stay alive?

The reasons as to why
are of many, but
mainly come down to

logic or feeling.

Either or, to what extent, do you choose?
Either or, to what extent, do you lose?

Taken to the extreme,
both valid beyond choice.
But which is the supreme,
of which you will voice?

A poem isn't effort.

Emotions aren't squeezed out,
but bleed out
into their own being.

The poet
a mere catalyst
for their expression,
letting go of continuous
repression.

Bleeding constructively.

pieces of soul
fragments of the greater whole
speaking through reflections of word.
so vast in its existence
so mysterious in its comprehension
how else could it be expressed
but through metaphor.

I don't write poetry,
poetry
writes me.
It pulls my emotions
from deep within
slapping them on paper
into a lyrical spin,
into rhymes of sorts
helping me
to better deal with them.
  
Painful at times, yes
but
when a doctor
reallocates
your shoulder back into it's right place
it's only for the better.

Ironic how
the medicine for my soul
is found in the same place
as the wound.

Behind bars of shame and regret - I see you.
Memories from times pass return,
pulling the threads of a poorly sewn heart.

Once the ties are loose enough,
deep inside the memories go.
They find a place of remorse
    where exist a lost promise
        to you
            that could not be fulfilled

From there, emotions flare
The walls of this heart begin to tear.
My deepest desire completely bare
All I want is you.

The path lies right in front of me
clear of obstacles and paved quite nicely
Yet
I hesitate to walk on it, until I absolutely have to
Why?
I avoid the path that if traveled
Leads me, gets me closer to my goals
But still
I stray away from it
Preffering to stay where I am
Where mostly
I just find
exactly what was here yesterday

Innocent tornado of joy,
adorable wind of air,
I'm blown away
by your presence.

Your energy
simply put
raw exuberance,
overwhelms me
in to submission.

Caught in your gust
lost in your playful spin,
I never had a chance.

Your just too cute!! :)

Blazing within me
burning me inside out  
roaring fires of hatred
igniting with every anger filled thought
engulf my soul.
Soon enough
ashes will bury me.

to what end will i repeat
past mistakes that make me weep
past regrets that take my best
to lay down and put to rest

to what degree will i pursue
that reassurance overdue
the reassurance that will never come
from you
or anyone

to what extent will i keep thinking
that we could've done it and you weren't faking
that you really wanted
it and me
to live forever after
happily

The soul
finds itself
in the passing moments
of life.

Resonance rekindles
the crippled wings
of spirit.

The remembrance
of true essence
jolts us back
into being.

There’s a pain in my heart
that’s slowly tearing me apart
because I saw what they did to you.
Visualizing your pain
the agony you went through
I too
am now
suffering.

Your lying there, dead.
Corpse slowly rotting,
flies hover around
your mutilated flesh.

Sorry but
your life, your existence
wasn't as important
as someone getting to work on time.

Ironically
it's now that your dead
lying there
that we take the time to swerve
and not hit you.

we are in
an upward trend
where everything is beautiful roses.
let's not descend
downward
because all we'll have then
are thorns.

if you can't let go
tears will start to flow
no worries though
just let em go
they'll help clear your soul
of what you don't want to be feelin' no mo'
no need for a show
but sometimes it can't be helped, ya know
hurt, sad, feelin' low
sorry I can't be more happy and glow
guess I'll just tip toe
wait for someone to bring back the radio

the silence is like a double edged sword.
in its presence, with discipline
many thoughts and feelings can be slain.
but don't naively believe
that what's trying to be killed
can't and won't
fight back

Shooting myself with another needle of cutting edge,
my desire for the latest and greatest continues my addiction.
Where's my IV!? I need more electricity.
Without constantly being jacked in and distracted by others,
I’m left with the one thing I can’t bare to endure – myself.
Who needs dreams when exist
virtual realities of dazzling graphical effects,
unreal visuals that I’m actually conscious of.
Screens dispersing artificial radiance bare all,
but blind me from what's real.
Google is my omnipotent god.

This world
filled with so many lies and misconceptions,
I find it hard to thrive, hard to make meaningful connections.
Life constantly focused on money, what to buy, on endless consumption,
is not a life I want to live, and is one that I'll eventually walk away from.
For now, like most, I endure; life enjoyed is seldom.
Just trying to be myself,
trying not to lose my mind in this ****** up conundrum
we call society.

a heart bleeding into rhyme
i'm not alone, these emotions are not just mine

some poets
express not for attention
but in hopes that someone will listen
relate and understand
maybe, possibly hold their hand
let them know that there's more to existence
than what they're feeling in this current instance
someone who realizes that these are not mere words
but an aching soul, crying out to be heard

l was on the floor sulking
or on the road walking.
No matter where I was
thoughts kept me company,
always wondering.

Enter - tragedy

What just happened...
Will I be ok?
I always find a way.
Sad and hurt, but does it matter
if nothing changes afterwards?

Rebirth yet?
No.
Still waiting to live, still too afraid to die.
It's painful, even if positive.

Cant focus on breath when suffocating.

What life are you leading
and why are you constantly bleeding?

Transcendental beauty in all moments.
Transitory bliss... Here again.

Sleep.

Shadowy clouds of realization form.
Truth rains down, cold and wet
with no umbrella of illusion to keep me dry.
Reality roars, trembling my bones.
I fear what's about to be before me.
In a instant, depression strikes
dragging me back to that sad sorrowful place
where fairy tales stop holding my hand and heart.

You left
to find yourself
of which you found

I'm thankful
your world's
a little less upside down

Got yourself together
your life
you rearranged

But now im not in it
and am left feeling
strange

Sometimes I feel like a waste of space.
Always falling behind, stuck in a constant haste.
I try to keep myself together, try to keep a steady pace
but I think it's obvious from the sadness emanating from my face...
I'm broken.
Internal wounds too deeply woven.
These emotions of mine
they become far too lonely.
So kindly I stick around
and give them some company.
My efforts are true
but seemingly meaningless.
Don't know what to do
but still try nonetheless.
Repeatedly I try to alleviate their pain.
Unfortunately it remains there, a psychological stain.
Their recovery would need much time
of which I cannot give.
So slowly my psyche unwinds
as I struggle to live.