We don’t know what dreams are…Scientifically
But we know what dreams are
When we first wake,we know exactly what they are
In the cold sweat of a nightmare
Or the soft embrace of a perfect dream
It all seems too real
Fantasies and disasters play and replay in our mind
In the middle of the night
we close our eyes and see
A world that seems right until we wake at dawns light
A place of extremes and discrete details
So real we could swear they occurred
If only for a moment
Though truly thats all we need
For that second of disappointment or relief defines us
Tells us what we really want
But does that explain what dreams really are?
Now thats a question for your mind at dawns early light
If you have the mind to ask yourself at such a haunting time

Our world falls down like a house of cards.
And again were forced to build it back up but its never the same.
We forget the ace, the eight, and a few of the spades. And it makes a difference.
We become indifferent to each others pain at times
And time again we retreat to a false sense of intimacy.
Which fools us into thinking we love each other
Not to say we don’t love one another but (****!)
Why must it always take a trip to the bedroom to feel better?
I mean yeah its an attention grabber
and hell yeah I’m a go getter but
I’d sooner believe it was butter before I think the phrase I uttered to you
or you uttered to me had any real meaning,
least not while were squirming under the sheets ; only there cause it seems the right place to be
WELL JEEZE maybe you shouldn’t ask me my opinion if its hard to swallow.
do you want the red one or the blue one?
The one that makes you forget
or the one that makes you admit that nothing’s perfect, least of all us.
Way too fragile to ignore the wind
We got to make sure this house doesn’t come down again.
Better yet tear it down now (blows)
For we need a better foundation.
You want satisfaction?
Have a little patience
for every time we rebuild we go a little higher which means if we don’t fix this soon it could all come tumbling down….hard.
and we’ll end up suffocated
beneath the cards
and the *******
And the longing
And the tension will do nothing but **** us.
So lets not rush through this.
Just a little bit at a time.
Level by level
Emotion by emotion
Trust by trust.
Love by love.
Card by card.
and if we keep at it not only will we set a world record
but our skyscraper will scratch the heavens
and more than anyone else will leave each other breathless.

You say you can't write a line?

let me take you under my wing

Let me teach you how to rhyme

no it is not a crime,you'll shine

and in time

you'll compose lines and lines

long enough to knit a scarf with

it'll trail behind you as a monument to your greatness

clothes not really your taste kid?

don't worry cause thats not all you can make

shiiiiit

we can make it into your favorite

steaks on plates or halls of fame

its so close you can taste it

so just be patient

as we break down your hesitation

while we direct you to the angle you will soon be facing

a college cultural center

a crowded barroom basement

anywhere which you can make a statement

it doesn't matter if its abrasive

normally regarded tasteless

as long as its something that you created

i don't know how long it will take kid

for time does not measure greatness

however i will say this

if you keep working on your craft

it will transform into a spaceship

to be honest it will be a while before i build my own

but that don't mean we can't hone our words strong enough to cut the fuel with

so say you can't make poetry again

for i am determined to show you that you can

Everybody hurts just a little too much

Everybody hurts but it's never enough

It's wonderful to fall; let's love and risk it all

The call to relief overwhelms us

Because we hurt a lot, and we want it to stop

Love is like a rock in the fall

Cool to the touch, but rough when struck blunt

And when struck it wakes us up

Then drenched in sweat we can’t ignore
Not the wound, nor its source

It was love that slammed itself into us

And nearly comatose from its ****** we rebound with distrust

Forevermore we step back, waiting out the strike

Living in timidity of future loves of our lives

For if we commit to love too much, then the strike could destroy us

So we love with half a heart, so as not to be hurt.

So we live safe as we move from stone to stone

But I think we should grab it tight, despite what we fear

I'd rather love just a little too much.

Not enough to prematurely erode the stone

But enough to never slip my hold

So much so that it will only drop if I choose to let it go

Yes it hurts to grab it tight

And it hurts to feel the strike

But holding on firmly is the only way to be sure

Sure its not a flight response

Sure its really what we want

For what gives us our most lumps,may be what’s best for us

Living in fear will always hold us back

So I hold a little too tight

Thinking maybe you might reciprocate and smile

As we jirate to the melodies of truth and deceit
Every minute of our days we choose who we are going to be
Its no secret what we think
Whats wrong or right
Or anywhere in-between, our actions confirm our binaries
And show our true beliefs
Through action, what we can see
For if you really care you’d put your neck out there
Otherwise you pretend not to care
For silence is conformation
That you not only understand the world
But approve of it
“it doesn’t affect me, so who am I to say how it should be?”
Is a cop out to avoid responsibility
For once you know you have the power to change
But we’re so comfortable nowadays we don’t engage
With the politics
Each other
Controversy
Unless it’s at the **** of a joke
Or said in conversations with friends who will forget of what we spoke
Its sad to know that people will suffer much more of our inaction
Than actual ignorance
Because our voices are significant
But we’re been soothed into complacency
Not necessarily lazy, but the fellow man or women doesn’t mean a thing
Unless of course it directly affects us
And really the amount of people who genuinely care for other human beings
Are seen as naïve or some special kind of being
Either way they’re seen as a kind of minority
But all I’ve ended up doing is preach
For you already know
Out that other ear like so many times before
But let me hope that a fraction of it sticks
And you leave this world having actually applied your influence
That you leave this room and don’t forget or disregard
That the struggle of any human is the struggle of us all
That you don’t just leave having had meaningful conversations
But that you actually try to solve what we’ve been ignoring for so long

File my heart under fragile
For it hasn’t been handled with care for so long
That I forget it wasn’t made to withstand such torture
The brochure that came in the box said “no warrantee available”
And that didn’t seem a problem since it wasn’t too tangible
But that in no my made its protection manageable
See it has this defect where it attaches to people it deems loveable
But its assessments are usually miserable
The results of such endeavors seem ironically laughable
And in the end it sits in a stagnant pool of blood and tears
I stir it like a fool would, and drain it when its too full
But it doesn’t stop from making the same mistakes
This stupid piece of flesh I hate twists when I seem right as rain
Theirs no warrantee, no cash back, no trade
So what happens when it finally breaks?
Well its obvious and it gives me shakes
But I rake in all the love I can
Hoping to be a better man
Despite this heart that hurts too much
Trusts too much
That seems to be best at collecting dust
In hopes that I can keep it going as long as possible
Even through making attachments that aren’t too logical
For it could **** me to bear it
But I really wish to share it
So if I perish in the process, I guess its my fault
For putting it in harms way, when I really know better

Hearts beating like drums. All Synchronized to each other, spurring our tongues to speak, our minds to think, our souls to be…. united. In dreams and aspirations of education, influence, and love…All we ever wanted. Simplified till it sounds like a king speech, as if that’s the only way to think. But all our ideologies are as different as our English is from hieroglyphics. Similar pictures can mean different things; like a gang sign slightly varied can mean death on ill tread streets, where people think there is no where else to go but down, trying to keep their head up but not learning to swim.  we can all do the backstroke if we devote some time. And we learn faster with a teacher. A friend. A collage. Anyone who has dreams. Anyone who has a heartbeat. This drive can supersede obstacles we see .and we all have the capacity. And the truth of this is in this room. With you, who may have swallowed water but never quit, not willing to submit to whatever unfair ******* arose from the septic tank under your life. And your heart’s still beating. I know you can feel the rhythm. we all can. So don’t let your shortcomings remix it to a beat that’s not your own or an inferior version of your song. Because when we step back to listen and you step up to sing, we find that our differences don’t estrange us as much as we think. Were all on the brink of understanding, so don’t be afraid to open you ears or your mouth or propel your self with action you know will make us proud.do it despite the circumstances that cloud our judgment to inadequacy. Be more than a king speech but don’t be above us for we all have dreams. We are all our own person, but we are still our people. Stand up. And don’t be afraid to do it together. It’ll only make us stronger.

Tender hearts hurt most
blood seeps from the most neutral touch
most recognize their fragility
But not all have sympathy
For many have hardened their hearts to survive
“so why not they?”
“why should they be spared the pain?”
again and again the heart beats,whether calloused or not
All are fraught with misery
Both the tender and hard-hearted
which proves that neither by design has been harder fought
All hearts strive to beat,and despise being beaten
And all deserve reprieve from their degree of weeping

Tender hearts hurt most
blood seeps from the most neutral touch
most recognize their fragility
But not all have sympathy
For many have hardened their hearts to survive
“so why not they?”
“why should they be spared the pain?”
again and again the heart beats,whether calloused or not
All are fraught with misery
Both the tender and hard-hearted
which proves that neither by design has been harder fought
All hearts strive to beat,and despise being beaten
And all deserve reprieve from their degree of weeping