My stomach is a lake of red wine and pills that are supposed to make me feel better about my life.

They didn't.

My hands vibrate and clench themselves into fists that are sometimes full of my own hair.

My eyes are heavy and decorated by deep purple half circles from lack of sleep.

But

Sometimes my stomach is filled with butterflies,
and I silently hope they don't drown.

Occasionally my hands are in another pair of hands.
They're held like a prize.

Some nights my eyelids are kissed lightly to sleep.
My pupils dilate from the drugs,
and from that boy's love.

The white circles I swallowed every morning are supposed to make me feel better about life,
but I don't think any scientist, pharmacist, doctor
ever once anticipated the thought of another human being like him.

He watched her walking through the night
Into the darkness of life
To the ever changing days
She glanced with the words trailing
You can’t see me
In the night all cats are grey
It’s always been that way
Did you see the sign
Walking towards
Like death walking towards that point
But going no further
Not when the gravestones scream
Injustice
For the mourned
They watch in the night
For that glimpse
As the rising mist
Touch her aura
In a strange way
We rejoice
Watching her walking through the night
Whispering
You can’t see me
In the night all cats are grey.

in the dark all alone
fingers weak trembling
to light a flame
so he can smoke
lips on paper
fire in his face
he inhales once more
drawing the fire closer
paper disappearing
muscles relaxing
the plant spreads
through his body
in his lungs
hardened from cigarettes
through his blood it creeps
quietly rapidly
with out a peep
the room hazy
distorted
he is relaxed
until the drug wears off
roll lick light
another cycle
repeated twice more
a sound breaks the silence
the door opens
in the gap a silohuette
short
daddy
it cries
the smoker turns away
as the door closes

the next day
with pockets empty he weeps
a child on his leg
no more
no more
a different life he needs
a person he wants
girlfriends, pets, kids
his wife
have all left

in his house alone
fingers weak trembling
to press the trigger
and an angel speaks
No
No
it cant be
what could god want with me
a loner an addict
a failure

his mother speaks
floating above him
no my son
you can be good
try
let it escape
and he tries and fails
repeating what he did before
gun in hand he cries
with his heart
his mind
his soul
his mothers face
the last thing he sees
despaired, she turns away
biting his tongue
fire in his face
he inhales the lead
and an angel cries

i sing a song of my soul so that all can see
to some degree
my heart of hearts and my world that to me is free
my hands sweat
my body shivers
can it be from being alive... living in absolute ecstasy?

i need sustenance, i need poetry
my body needs food and ***
i need things like these
that give life and reason to wake up tomorrow
wake up tomorrow so i can spend time loving and writing
i need love, i need to be important
my mind needs to be recognized
my hope to be known, to be told i'm a writer
so that i can be sure of it,
be sure that i am what i say to myself that i am

how do I see myself?
self esteem?
is there a self to be esteemed?
am i made up of thought? feelings? perceptions?
what am i? what are you?
is this what was sought by philosophers?
lovers?
sisters? brothers?
i hope to find myself somewhere
under that rock
in the toe of my sock
behind the tree
i just hope the me i find is free

i hope that in the future i'm needed
i hope that i will be recognized for revolutionizing
for socializing for rectifying
i hope that i'm loved for my soul and for my poetry (which is my soul)
my greatest hope is for at least a little inner peace
for a quieting of the mind and tranquility of spirit
i have hope for the world because i see love everywhere
for finding love in myself it must be in everyone
for my soul is yours as yours is mine in this cosmic milkshake
shake O shake you cool cool cat
let the whole world hear your song
leave more than the impression in the couch
from where you sat

i prowl the twisting alleyways of imagination in search of heaven
i've heard that it's down here among the trees and *****
cigarette **** sidewalks
have you found it?
if you had would you have told me?
i love you don't you love me?
i've found heaven in you but you've found it
where i'd never think to look
not in a book or the bodhi tree we shook
but in the love of another
where i'd never think to look

you there! alone! aren't we all lonely wanderers!
i see you there
i see the love where you'd never think to check
come here, i beckon to you
find the love in me so ****** red
i lie alone in bed
thinking of you, dear
are things ever better left unsaid?

come with me! on the road and back again
travel with me! never let me be!
of all loves it's you i chose
come quickly now
for i'll be leaving soon
i must only wait till the road opens
and the flowers finally bloom
for love is quick
and there is so much world to see

peace! love! take me to where i can find these things
for they are all i think about in the infinite universe of my mind
like the infinite love in my heart
or the finite love of your lips

love is lonely
hate is holy
find me god! save me!
what is this life that lifts me up only to drown me
in thoughts of loss and endings
in words that spew from my mind i drown myself

poetry! music!
things so important to me
i find poetry in everything
and music straight from my dreams
spine tingling, legs shaking, head rocking,
a world orchestrated by eternity

the cigarette between my fingers burns at the tip!
how it burns burns burns
like my world burns
my life that's gone up in smoke!
will i end up rich and famous?
or happy and broke?

a lifetime of poetry ahead
words to be written
love to be made
loves to be lost
and paths to be crossed
i must get out of bed

the future scares me and
the money in the world is quite a sum
it's just too bad i want to be a ***

years from now when my song is sung
when the words have crumbled to dust
and my mind has begun to rust
will you love me then?
will i have proven my worth?
will i be happy with my life, my work?

can i rest in peace and return to the earth?

The days when the blood of a child still flowed in my veins
When you couldn't be certain if i had a brain
Running helter-skelter,you'd assume i didn't have shelter



I had my whole life ahead of me
What i was living was a bonus for me
I'd have fun now and get serious with God some time in the after


Afterall,for decades now it's been one ridiculous story of the rapture or the other
I couldn't risk being called "jon"
Afterall even the Good Book says to enjoy life in Ecclesiastes
The condition stated there served as black polish on my silver shoe-totally not needed


Life was a bed of roses for me as i jumped into different beds like one in a hurdle race
My skirts could be likened to the length of time the devil can stay in Light
But i was still a child,i'd do church in the future,i compensated myself


The future came a bit too soon,when i aggressively hugged a moving car one night
My fake amnesia disappeared as every word of Ecclesiastes 11:9 echoed loudly like the siren of the ambulance in my head

Grace came through for me,pulling mercy along,for my life was spared

When every other limb but my right hand was cut off,i knew exactly what to do with it


True,i can't stare back at the girl in the mirror today without donating tears,but from today,i put my right hand to work for Yeshua

BE INSPIRED!!!
Jn9:4!!!!!
#pumped

Yeshua's B.A.E

small path, a right of way,

for me, to go down the back lane.

it is all forget me nots,

i wrote of it before.

i had bought 1000 seeds, black

and tiny,

from ebay, wondered who counted

them.

he is a farmer, will strim

them soon, so i gently pulled

a plant. the ground gave easily,

moles had been tunneling.

i will forget thee not.

he is a farmer.

sbm.