I used to live on the coast,
with the sun shining every day,
as the gentle breeze would rush under my arms.
I was dragged to a city by a wonderful host,
whilst getting caught in the the disorderly fray,
as I was never able to get the hang of its charms.
You see I'm still not used to the everyday ******,
and the typical poor mans plea,
I think  of the soft subtle waves which hid behind my door,
and the way the light glinted off the calm sea,
I do not think I will get used to this damp city with you,
but at least I always awake with the most beautiful view.

I have a sickness,
which is contagious,
spreading with quickness,
which is outrageous.
Every person I look upon,
is struck with the feelings of hate,
soon these feelings will be gone,
as someone else carries this weight.
Is there a cure for what I feel?
Must i react with such zeal?

My heart is a cave,
a home...
For animals who live in shadows,
my pathos,
which once shined upon,
removes all doubt,
glowing as a ghost-white sun.
Remove this light of your love,
and these shadows crawl back into their hole,
the caverns within the cave of my heart,
where there lives my long lost soul.
If you continue with the light,
that emits from your charitable love,
you can hold my hand through this fight.
Lead me through this maze,
into resurrection,
implode my heart,
devouring itself.
Yet I am reborn from the ashes of my past,
like a phoenix in the sky,
with you as my guide,
I fly with my wings spread vast,
a redeeming cry,
and you by my side.




And nothing could be better.

Pick a side they said,
you cannot choose both,
life is a war,
there must be someone you loath.
You cannot hold sympathy for them all,
some deserve to take that fall,
you cannot care for all the sick you see,
so do not try to love the dead,
or you will end up like me,
and you will lose your head.

I hate you,
thus I hate your success,
while I hope for you to drown,
you merely float.
While I hope for you to be struck by lightning,
you only walk through the rain,
as I watch you and hope you trip and fall,
you leap and bound.
Meanwhile,
I lay here soaking wet,
where I fell into a puddle,
about to drown,
only to die by lightning.

You are the one I love,
that at least is true,
sacrificing my dreams,
for you I will see that through.
Moving to a far away land,
sacrificing my life,
just so next to me you will stand,
together as my wife.
And if things do not go as planned,
Will from my back protrude a knife?
Or will you catch me when I fall,
protecting me from further strife.

You ripped my heart out,
like the dentist ripped my tooth,
grinding at my plaque,
and cutting out my vein.
pick and flick every bit,
to make me shine again.

As I lash out like a wave crashing upon the sand,
destroying the castles built by hand,
destroying moral like a warlord on a killing spree,
a nuclear explosion which no one can flee.
For nothing escapes my grasp,
as I am the infection which spreads so far,
choking your voice until it is merely a rasp.
Please remove me from your life,
as I am here only to cause strife,
like a cancer in your heart,
you can't quiet get out,
always wondering "when did it start?",
what caused this drought?

But do not fear,
for it is not your fault,
let me be clear,
I am like this by default.
So love me or leave me,
it is up to you,
but you can not change me,
for I am evil through and through.

Your words a fissure in my heart,
crumbling it apart,
split in two, by you.
Like a giant you stomped your feet,
causing earthquakes in the street,
and I am merely a fearful boy,
who looked up to you,
only to see you destroy.
Now I lie with my dreams dripping out,
in the form of that warm red liquid,
soaking into the seeds of doubt,
all because of what you did.

Speak,
as if you know what you are saying.
Let it roll off the tongue,
******* like a Dung-beetle's ****,
and let me drink it up like a lapdog.
It tastes like heaven from where I sit,
not by comparison,
but lack of.

Everyone complains about the "system",
how it is rigged, manipulated and controlled.
But they do not take a moment to listen,
or to take a moment and break the mold.
Work out and do not eat those fries,
then you will say goodbye to those thighs.
Work hard, work long, and get the paycheck,
take a chance and stick out your neck.
Become what you despise,
or stand and rise.
Because you can lie down and die,
and let them walk on you,
curl up and cry,
and let your whole life turn blue.
But your failure is your own fault,
not the systems,
you were not locked in a vault.
You have been duped,
or you are duping,
So stop singing the song the dupees sing.

Updated from my tablet which my white upper class parents bought me to prepare for my pre_paid college

Looking at you as you lay asleep,
unsure of whether to smile or weep,
for my heart you will always keep,
for you are my shepherd and I am your sheep.
I will follow you until my feet run red,
and I will hold onto you until I am dead,
to leave you fills my heart with dread,
for you are the cure for the cancer in my head.
Your heart is like gold,
resistant to mold,
the cure that I need,
and am lucky enough to receive,
with all the love that you bleed,
to grant me my reprieve.
Words cannot fathom what you have done,
letting me live, as if I am someone.
Someone who deserves the love that you present,
when you are the one who deserves to be content.
So now that I am healed, alive and well,
I will cut out my heart and present it to you,
please do not mind the smell...
for it has been molded for as long as I can tell.
If you continue to scrub it clean,
for you and only you,
my heart will gleam.

The fakers are takers,
giving to no one,
living a lie,
destroying one's soul,
merely to accomplish their goal.
Take what they can,
like a parasite,
stealing your goods,
then taking flight.
But like a mosquito,
their life is not long,
******* blood gets old,
until they **** the wrong arm.
Slap.

Currently there are:
Thousands of cars zooming down the highway at breakneck speeds,
Millions of lights illuminating the dreary road,
With the power of a hundred valiant steeds,
Causing the cement to corrode and erode,
Thousands of fossil fuels burnt merely to transport other fossil fuels,
Pollutants filling the air and altering our environment,
But these are the worlds most precious jewels,
All to feel the capitalist tyrant.
But hey... At least I have air conditioning in my F150 while heading to set off Chinese fireworks while celebrating the 4th of July.
The American Dream.

Take my name,
take my card,
soon you will own me,
it is not that hard.
I am like an open book,
just type my name,
I'll be caught on your hook.
My information is everywhere
you can find my favorite food,
or most hated place to think,
either way I am *******,
for you will own me before I blink.
With so much social media,
filling the internet like an encyclopedia,
about our lives and what they mean,
there is no privacy that can be seen.
So let us live our lives like animals,
living in cages placed upon these screens,
our lives are owned by these machines.

**** me over,
put me in agony,
but it is okay,
because we are all family.
Accept defeat,
take the hit,
when you are with family,
you deal with this ****.
But what if you could pick and choose,
who you keep and who you lose,
well then those would be friends,
who you can pick until your heart's content,
but remember that isn't family,
that is merely people for rent.

Rock this boat with your weight,
sink us to the ocean ground,
the emotional baggage was too much,
we took on one to many pounds.
So as we sink down let us remember,
how we were so light once,
flying through the sky,
now I am your dunce,
and we say goodbye.
But while you continue to sink I must let go,
like that cheesy moment with Leo DiCaprio.
Because this isn't the titanic,
we were not as beautifully indestructible,
so no need to panic,
this should have been predictable.

It is going too fast,
like the speed of light,
I used to wait so long,
now it is out of sight.
Looking back and seeing it gone,
faster than the blink of an eye,
one second morning,
next its dawn.
Nothing I can hold,
grasp real close,
only fading memories,
of when I wish time froze.

We photograph ourselves,
to remind each other,
of who we are.
But these pictures end up on endless shelves,
as nobody will even bother,
as they are busy showing off their new car.
We don't realize the image we show,
is not really who we are,
but who we wish others thought we were,
and with this mentality we will never grow,
and we will never get very far,
as we alter ourselves for what others prefer.

I am the oppressed,
and you are the master,
holding me since birth,
as I am evolutions disaster.
I have a tendency for violent outbreaks,
created by institutionalized racism,
they say be "normal", there are choices...
yet within our beliefs there is a chasm.

For I was born without an option,
and went where I was led,
my only freedom was my adoption,
into the gangs for whom I bled.

While society cites me as a statistic,
I am just an average man,
pushed to the point of being sadistic,
because for the blacks there is no plan.

Do not group me with the heathens,
or make me out to be a sociopath,
I went where I saw life's beacons,
and as a child I was caught in that wrath.

Someday this will all end,
that day that I will be dead,
revolution will strike society,
like a bullet in the head.

You think you are someone of great strength in mind,
as you belittle all the people around you,
for the sake of not appearing kind,
because it was the only thing you knew.
Taught to be tough and a big boy,
you can go and use a gun as a toy,
become accustomed to the ability to destroy.
As you see nothing wrong from stealing the light in one's eyes,
being the artist of their demise,
as you ruin their families lies.
BANG, BANG, BANG,
goes the gun in your hand,
over a dead body you stand,
just as you planned.
Put that hit on that sonofabitch,
it went off without a hitch,
now you a man who put someone in a ditch.
The only sacrifice is morality,
but you are so young, you don't see the brutality,
only the gangster mentality,
so you can live in the violent normality,
not realizing that you have lost touch with reality.
But that is a life that no longer belongs,
replaced by coke, *** and bongs,
you will never know that what you do is wrong,
until you hear the bell's gong,
and it is you who is gone.

I will be that hurdle you trip upon,
I am the water you burn in,
I was the drought that drowns you in fire,
as you are the muscle that overpowered me,
the air which flourishes you,
and the rainfall which nourishes you.

Let me undress your heart,
look upon it's naked curves,
let me give it that jump start,
with feelings that play on your nerves.
Let me love you and feel you,
holding you close to me,
between us electric shocks flew,
like a defibrillator,
resurrecting our lives,
into the one we once knew.

What if there was another way,
to pass on these raw feelings inside,
not to just pass away,
but to find some way to confide.
I do not want to die by my hand,
but the act I know will shock you,
but I want to continue to stand,
while getting these thoughts through.
I am to great to destroy myself,
at least that is what I always lie,
but if there was a third option,
I would take it rather than to die.
But for now these thought will lie,
ripping at my skull and ribs,
constantly filling our conversations with an ad-lib,
While wanting to break and cry.
I will lash out as the pain erupts,
I cannot control it, although there is regret,
why can I not get over it?
So I will tear myself up inside,
I will not speak, too much pride,
I will have a facade which you will see,
but it is never actually me.

The vampires come in at night,
they do not warn you,
do not cause a fright.
But while you lay asleep in your bed,
they set up a facade,
inside your head.
Within this idea there blooms happiness,
******* in the light,
creating an abyss.
But you overlook the abyss for the gleam,
from which the sun gives you,
or so it seems.
As you step closer to get more light,
one wrong move,
and you have a fright.
For you are now falling into the abyss,
went to close,
missed out on fortunes kiss.
And when you wake there is no one there,
the vampires have left,
leaving you in despair.
You find yourself alone in your room,
soon to be taken,
all too soon.
You thought you could live on like this,
******* in light,
walking into the abyss.
But life does not work with such innocence,
you will be ****** dry,
within an instance.
So keep the wooden stake in bed,
keep one eye open,
or you will be dead.

I am a torn up sail,
having faced  hurricanes wrath.
You looked upon me like God's gift,
despite inside me being a rift.
Not one to turn from a dare,
you made me able to catch air.
Sewing and fixing like a grandmother would,
you put me together in a day or two,
I never thought that anyone could,
I guess I just needed you.

I have a college degree,
no money,
an idea in my head,
and that is all I can see.
Make money, be happy,
made out to be,
the simplest thing.
But when dropped like a fish out of water,
into the so called social society,
without you I am a lifter with no spotter,
and the cure to my sobriety.
So let us see if I can swim to shore,
and get the breath of fresh water,
and you can be there like you swore,
to save me from the slaughter.
You will be my anchor to hold me under.

Sirens screaming in the distance,
searching for a victim,
a black man hiding in the shadows,
running from his life's battles.
Since the ripe age of fourteen,
he went to school in pain and death,
fond of the power of a weapon,
and the ability to steal someone's breath.
Taught that the only way to be,
is the life of an O.G.,
the hood is all you got,
that is until you are caught.
In the jail the oppression continues,
with the pigs up high,
and the blacks down below,
with this dynamic, the resentment will grow.
When the victim is finally out,
expected to fit into society,
yet this setback put him on the wrong route,
only seen for his notoriety.
So who are we to blame him,
when he sees stars within drugs,
all his opportunities are now dim,
pushing him back in with the thugs.

We expect him to grow and move on,
but the pressure on his head won't allow such bliss,
the only way out is the way with the gun,
such is the life when on the run.

Stand up and fight,
you coward,
you wimp.
Will you let them beat you,
as you lay there limp.
Or will you just wait until it is over,
and then pray for a four leaf clover.
Your luck has run out,
but that is only your fault,
you only lay and pout,
and take the assault.
You do not deserve the dreams you have,
when all the effort you put in, is only half,
So stand up and fight,
you coward,
you wimp,
for if you fail now,
you will never survive,
if you do not take that dive.

Dissonance is when you are met with a contradiction.
You go through life with no qualms,
eating everyday the preservatives you love,
forgetting the places where we just dropped bombs,
dropped upon children; as if gods from above.
Men and women are murdered every day,
but we have the power to keep that at bay,
with our expertise in the art of ******,
your country is our flock and we are the herder.
But every few days or so,
a report will come up on T.V.,
how the problem will grow,
but not to worry, it will never effect me.
So I live my life with my T.V. shows,
going to parties and drinking too much,
not thinking of the children who made my clothes,
and how my comfort is due to their touch.
Until one day a new report is up,
how the war has not worked and people are dying,
the reporter doesn't bat an eye during his close up,
when they show the children crying.
Dissonance appears in my heart,
my head, my body and my soul.

"How can I be so happy and free?
with someone living so below me.
I should help, I should fight,
show those heathens what is right.
Let the world know that this is wrong,
maybe I'll even write a song."

Then my brain recognizes its bounds,
settles down and grabs a coke,
I'll just do a few more rounds,
of sitting and telling a joke.
That makes it easier for me,
to laugh instead of aid,
for I know they are not free,
but soon their voices will fade,
and I can comfortably forget their plea.

Holy hell I hate you,
we sit,
we laugh,
we lie,
about what we should love.
But I know that you do not love me,
you despise me like a Jew in Germany.
You know I do not love you,
for I despise you like a Palestinian in Isreal.
Holy hell we hate one another,
and we both know,
but we lie,
and say we agree with one another,
while we **** each other.
Holy hell I ******* hate you,
how could you do this,
how could you lie,
how could you not care,
how could be be like me.

We act as if we are different,
that this scenario doesn't match us,
so why should I help?
I am a lion crying for my forest,
why should I stop the penguin's glaciers from melting?
"They will just have more area to swim..."
I am a businessman working for my family,
why should I give my hard earned money to the dying?
"They should work past their problems... Like I did!"
I am an artist who lives within themselves,
my life is harder than that homeless man's.
"He probably does drugs anyways...".
And we move on,
set on our personal goals,
never looking back,
but expecting all others to at least glance.

So I have a blog I just started, only a few articles are in it but I hope to discuss how things evolve and come to be in society with media, politics and so on... So check it out, feel free to talk ****, comment, joke, etc. Maybe you can see where some of my poems stem from (probably not).
http://dirtymittens.wordpress.com/

To lose you,
is to lose my mind.
For you are the caretaker of my sanity,
as I need my daily dose.
Of love.

It is too hard,
why should I try?
to go that extra mile,
when the opportunity will fly on by.
There is too big of a cost,
why should I leap?
what if we end up lost?
and the devil has my soul to keep.
Tell yourself these words everyday,
and life passes you by,
and you sit and play.
Let these words sit in your head,
as you sit alone,
lying in your bed.
But there are others who will not be like you,
others who are like lions,
the kings to break out of this zoo.
There are others who are not like you,
they say I can when they should not,
and do not give it a second thought.
Those are the men who will stand atop a mountain,
looking down upon you,
and ******* in your drinking fountain.
Those are the men who will succeed because they believed,
while you sat and gave every excuse you could bleed.

Why in the big government today,
are there so many politics,
and not enough policy.
Why are we like the mice to their cat,
as we run and scrounge,
and they grow fat.
Why do we sit and let them decide,
when incompetency and latency,
strip us of our pride.
As we sit and choose who is best,
we forget that these men must pass a test,
it is not about who has better hair,
or whether they say their daily prayer.
The test should be one of valor and bravery,
someone who can fight for our safety,
one who is even-keel and not unsavory,
and most importantly
someone who saves us from slavery.

We attempt to victimize,
those who we believe tell us lies,
but we do not take time to sympathize,
instead we drown out their cries,
with thoughts of our future prize,
and how we will one day reach the skies,
and then we can be wise,
and attempt to apprise,
those who we once chastised,
but it is too late and it is us they despise,
they see no compromise,
as we are the cause of their demise,
it is too late to revise,
why do you show surprise?
when you stepped on their rise,
spouting **** like "everyone dies",
meanwhile your have grown in size,
thanks to stealing their supplies,
and murdering their allies,
all so you can excuse yourself from seeing the pain in their eyes.

Break my fingers for that pay,
just to blow the money away,
but that is what addiction is like,
or else my body will go on strike.

Let it go,
let it go,
just drop it out,
in the snow.
Let it cool,
don't be a fool,
it does not matter,
to look cool.
For if you live,
with hidden hate,
you will realize,
when it is too late.
If you hold,
that anger inside,
letting it grow,
letting it preside.
You will only hurt,
the ones that you love,
so let it all go,
and rise up above.

These spirits that live inside my head,
living in the sewers,
appearing like the dead.
The spirits that live inside the desert,
transparent at best,
trying to make me revert.
These spirits which follow me everywhere I go,
but you keep them away,
melting them like snow.
With a few words and some faith you protect me,
keep them unseen,
protecting me from the obscene.
With a bit of love you watch my heart,
keep me whole,
and help me restart.

Our love was like those cigarettes you smoked,
so hot it can put a hole in your heart,
the smoke fills our veins and we began to choke,
and the cigarette died before the fire could start.

I do not judge you,
for who you are,
or what you do,
for I am not the judge nor the jury,
I am merely the executioner.
Whom everyone knows holds a bit of fury,
although as I look upon your face,
and see the facade melting off it,
your guilt shows your disgrace,
and as my heart judges your actions,
and my soul decides upon your fate,
it is my mind that must do the transactions,
and executing isn't its best trait.

The funny things that love will make you do,
from believing in god,
to tearing you into two.
As we fight for life's ******,
which we shoot into our heart,
disregarding what ripped us apart,
all so that we can make a fresh start,
just to be a blotch on life's art.

You let these stars fall upon you; as we accelerate to our eventual supernova,
gathering energy and heat,
which will lead to the most magnificent end,
but not before becoming a magnificent,
light.

You're a ******,
you're a ****,
essentially everything I don't like.
Living your life,
with separate values, dreams, goals,
yet who is going to save your soul?
You love other men,
while I'm for women,
you drink alcohol,
which is a sin too,
but what hurts me the most...
Is I am not free like you.

The sunlights shadow gleams upon your face,
as if God had crafted it himself,
yet he took longer than just six days,
because you were not some model on the shelf...
Your skin stole what smoothness silk once had,
and your hair rolls like thunder off your shoulders
your voice would make birds jealous and mad,
while I merely listen and crave.
I hunger for your words to fill me,
fill my love's insatiable thirst,
to hold me is to set me free,
but I must find you first.

I can do it,
I swear I can,
trust me please,
I have a plan.
But if you continue to inhibit my heart,
then I will find it hard to start,
because I am like a child,
one who has hopes and dreams,
you cannot have me reviled,
or you will tear me apart by my seams.
Instead you must support me,
and tell me I can,
even when you do not agree,
you must see me become a man.
For I will grow and become stronger,
like a vine around a tree,
I will continue until I can no longer,
and then I will be free.

You are the chips with saturated fat,
slowing my blood to a halting standstill,
making my insides the vile food of rats.
You are the cake which suffocates my heart,
causing it to over- exert,
turning my death into your food art.
You are the food I never learned not to have, the fat of the meat,
colorful as a bed of roses, but filled with mud,
So let me sit down, and let's eat.

I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About the love I have for you,
I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About how you make the sky blue.
But that simply is not true.
Saying your smile makes my stomach churn,
Or that my heart is tightened by a string,
For all I care, every one of these words can burn.
Because my love, they would not describe a thing.

You see Mon Amour, I am not very good with words,
Yet I feel that would not help anyways,
When I see you my voice flies away like the birds,
As I’m stuck with my mind in a daze.
My heart begins to pump, as adrenaline hits,
Confounded by your beauty in more ways than one,
Suffocating my brain and removing me of my wits,
Holding my voice back, as the words escape at a run.

It is not that you are not beautiful, smart, and everything in between,
It is that whatever can describe you, is nothing I have ever seen.

Art is an obscure excuse for a lowlife to vent,
speak of how one's perspective is wrong,
as they do not ideas circumvent,
because they are too busy singing their song.
Art is a way for someone to withdraw,
live in their own world,
creating their own law,
complaining of how everything is world.
And with this ponderous excuse that is art,
we become something.g different,
revolving away from the start.
With the beauty that is art,
we can state *******,
to the ones who tore us apart.
With the significance of art we can relate to each other,
appeal to the masses,
but not be a bother.
And lastly, with art, we can learn how to live,
through showing our souls,
With this art that we give.