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Apr 2015 · 380
Ha Ha Ha
Ain't it funny?
Happiness ashore, and you're
swimming out for money.
Feb 2015 · 1.1k
America
America, when I was little, you told me we were Free.
I didn’t know you meant that I could choose to drink ******* in a Can versus Sodium Citrate and Sugar.
I didn’t know you meant I could practice any Religion as long as it was Traditional and nothing New.
I didn't know the Second Amendment would later be a Symbol of Futility.
I didn’t know Thanksgiving was just a celebration of Slaughter and an overdose of Food.
I didn't know that if I was ever briefly Depressed or Confused, you would Prescribe me some Pill worth Millions.

When I was little, I didn’t notice the rapid Rise of Cigarettes and Alcohol taking over the Century before Me.
I didn’t notice the number of people watching the News.
I didn’t notice the thousands of people who were Hungry, while we stuffed our Faces Each Day.
I didn’t notice I was a part of these Things.

When I was little, I didn’t see all of the unneeded destruction.
I didn’t see a reason for War over Power, Land, or Money.
I didn’t see what the Big Fuss was about Politics.
I didn’t see any reason To Live, other than to be Happy and make others Happy.
I didn’t see the Bad in People, like I do Today.

America, when I was little, I knew Everything, and Now I know Nothing.
I was innocent and Now I am Corrupted.
When I was little, my biggest Crime was picking my nose in Public.
I also may have stolen Candy from the Teacher, who Never got Paid Enough.

When I was little, I Painted and I Loved. I played with Animals and read all kinds of Books. Those Stories Taught Me Things.
They taught Me about You, America, and Everything that You’re Not.
They taught me that You don’t actually Care about Me, or my Mom or Dad, or my Brother, and definitely not my Cat.
They taught me not to Trust anyone and to Believe in my Instincts and Myself.
They taught me that you Worship false Idols and don’t Live by what you Speak.
They even taught me that there Is a better way, but America doesn’t Want to Change.

Today, I know what America really Is. I know that Everything is Subjective and Nothing is Anyone’s Fault. I also know that even though you Hate us, America, We still Love you, because
You are our Home.
I know We can Change, but I also Know it will take Time.
The Books also taught me that Time is Irrelevant and everything Happens for a Reason,
So even though I know how Cruel you are, America… I Know it will be Okay. And I know you don’t mean Any Harm. It is just Who you Are.

America, when I was Little,
You told Me, I could be Anything I wanted,
And that is exactly What I am Doing Now,
Despite your Laws and your Legions. I Will Find a Way to make Change, One Person at a Time, Starting with Me.
America, if you weren’t so Hostile, I’d have no Work to do, and no Light to Share, so Thank You, America.
Call me Crazy, But I Love You.
Feb 2015 · 1.7k
Flower Shop in Kentucky
A man in a flower shop… What a sight! He doesn’t know what to do, how to pick, where to look. Too many colors! Too many choices! I’m not sure what she likes…
What a weakness it is, to be a man next to flowers… Something so fragile and so beautiful, it makes him look stagnant in a world of much flow.
Then, in walks F. Scott… What are you?! You look mighty fine by this Rose. Do the thorns disrupt you? Do the petals leave you longing?
I thought you had a thing for Kichijoten-- in her Temple; next to the Sakura blossoms of Japan…
My, my. You can’t be part of the Lost Generation; I think you’ve found your place! As I look for mine by the Cattails and fresh Dahlias…
Have you seen these bunches of Baby’s Breath?? Sincerity only costs $3.95; it’s much more expensive nowadays… They don’t even play Jazz music here… What are you doing here, Fitzgerald? I know you aren’t here for the Hyacinths…
Has someone slain your heart again? My heart was slain many times, but everything happens for a reason, right Francis??
I know you have a thing for Gold, come check out these Daisies…and brighten your day. Don’t fret. Don’t fear. Loosen your heart and let it be free. I’m here. And everything is okay.
The Daisies? Really? Awful choice… I was only kidding about those.
Feb 2015 · 402
Y Noitareneg (revision)
Y Noitareneg
For My Soulmate

I saw the best minds of my generation slowly turn to waste
I saw the worst minds obsess over frowns, blood, *****, and awful taste
I walked an inconsistent path, staggering through some thorns and mud
I soared through clouds with skies so bright, my eyes were only useless studs

Their diet is rancid; their habits are vile
Their lifestyles seek power and pollute by the mile
Their vision is empty; their passion is bleak
Their nights consist of cocktails, week after week

You viewed the same madness that leaked from my feathery pen
You walked the same path of enlightenment and self-rewarding Zen
You mastered what all the useless, mediocre, egotistic fools never could; never can
You illustrate what they never understood; an open porthole to other vast lands

Our hands are soaked in resin; our tears are soaked in pride
Our lives are like a game, and we enjoy the ride
Our hearts are doused in love; our words are used for healing
Our hands are at our chests, praying, but never kneeling

We rise from the darkness, only as one, and the laggards try to keep us down
We still never worry much, because a royal king is just a crown
We march to the drums of freedom, with trees in our lungs and paper on our tongues
We are the 90’s generation, the wise among the young
Here is my final revision of "Noitareneg".
Feb 2015 · 2.1k
Noitareneg
Noitareneg
For my Soulmate

I
I saw the best minds of my generation go to waste
I saw the worst minds obsess over awful taste
I walked a steady path and staggered through some mud
I soared through skies so bright, my eyes were useless studs

II
You viewed the same madness that spewed from my pen
You walked the path of enlightenment and gorgeous Zen
You mastered what all the useless fools never could
You comprehended what they never understood

III
We rise, only as one, but the stragglers keep us down
We never worry much, because a king is just a crown
We march to the drum of freedom, with paper on our tongues
We are the 90’s generation, the wise among the young
In my English Counterculture Class, we were assigned to write a prompt according to Allen Ginsberg's poem: HOWL
Feb 2015 · 1.0k
The Land of Love
He makes me want to
drag red ribbons from her throat;
see what shapes
lye beneath her coat;
maybe walk for a thousand years,
without any fear of stroke...
never to return to this Land
called: Love.

He brings out the violence in me - -
for, I fear for the loss
of his soul, to thee.
He brings me to the light...
It's what makes it worth it;
all these foreign feelings of envy,
sneaking up my spine,
poured into my wine...

If only I were the only girl
in the world...
If only he were blind to
the golden locks of Hell
and the perfume scent of smell...
He makes me selfish;
No, I do!!
He makes me Hellish;
That's me too!!
What to do, what to do...
I love you.

He'd never turn.
So why does this passion
rapidly burn?
Like a clench of my fist,
and a stomach that churns;
He's mine!! Only mine!!
Never a question,
yet my words
portray suggestions;
Empty thoughts-- false dissatisfaction.

Unnecessary worries
and unwanted emotions...
Love can cause quite a commotion.
Worth it?
Yes, it's worth it.
Crazy?
Of course, I am.
I love you.
I love you...
I love you.
Thank you;
*Don't leave.
Dec 2014 · 447
To: My Dark Lady
I admired you once...
a kind of strange, not-yet creepy stalk...
like the view from the corner of the eye --
always wanting more...

But I watched you change --
from animal to human...
and suddenly, you weren't so oracular --
something more mainstream...

Like vise-versas of one another...
You dove into the depths of fame --
as I dove into the depths of shame --
and neither achieved what was sought...

Still, a dark lady...
who I'd love to watch further...
But nothing like the start --
Nothing near the finish...
I wonder...
Nov 2014 · 710
Like Tasting New Fruit
It is not my instinct to love a woman
who speaks with ease
It is not my instinct to love a spider
who hunts in trees,
But I

could tell you one thing:
When I was young,
I hated spiders
I also hated cooked carrots

Then I learned
to give things a second chance

How do you do?
I might fancy you...
or him, or her
or them

What was once detested
is now invested
in my meal
in my life

Who was once just a passerby,
I now sit and wander why
not infuse love in them?

Like tasting new fruit,
Like trying new things,

Must we always reject
what remains
after we cast out our pleasures
and resist our pains?

Could a man's lips to a man
be something so vein?
A woman's ******* in her hand,
something so insane?

We fear what we cannot grasp
We laugh at what is not funny
We do what we are habituated to,
but life is more than old and new

Acceptance is obtained
when one accepts
When one accepts,
they can run miles,
can be anything, anyone
What fun!

Gayety is great
*** is good
Different kinds of trees
make different kinds of wood
When one learns about wood
all wood seems good,
because all wood is good

After realizing this fact,
a weight is lifted
off the shoulders
and into the light,
where all can see

Those left behind,
will worship ancient shrines
with answers from yesterday
yearning to explain today

Those picky,
those sickly,
the one's who hate veggies
the one's who can't see
what a shame to be...

To dismiss the colour pink
when one grows up as a tomboy;
as a  stubbornness  
with a covenant
of no change

Homosexuality as a learned behavior,
Heterosexuality as an instinct;
Objektophilie...
vise versa, vise versa:
who cares! Nowhere

Like tasting new fruit,
the acceptance of taste
will form
what was never there before
If not,
this fruit will disappear,
never to exist in your presence
without hate
Oct 2014 · 836
The Beginning of The End
from ash to soul and soul to ash,
a continuation of life ever-last;
dancing with hexahedron hierarchy --
eating off epidemic oligarchy --

we've crowned a fool, with saviours in town;
our eyes in wool, 'til we turn around,
with eyes of indigo, soaring free,
an extra sight within the trees...

soon each shape moulds together as one,
like scattered stars at midnight come,
an image emerges from the light,
which unveils such a splendid sight:

the fall of kings, the rise of queens
and all the other fragile things;
love and beauty on the tongue,
swivelled down into the lungs,

knowing not what to become,
the cringe of fear resides in some;
hide inside a box with ***
until the waking morning comes...

it's time to rise: wake up! wake up!
leave your box, dispose of cups;
out of the office, into vast love
of a day which is anew, because --

the dark is done if you wish to banish;
revolution is not so outlandish,
when fish merely roam in schools of thought,
with nothing ever truly taught,

until one day, the shark will come,
and cause you to despise your ***,
your weak hand, and your menace,
for all is well when there is penance,

"for they know not what they do...",
leader to people, as lion to shrew;
abolishing all antiquity
in order to reach sublimity.
Sep 2014 · 978
Chomsky VS Karma
Chomsky is a bit too pessimistic for my taste,
and it's strange to me how a Linguist does not believe in connectivity;
for, communication is connectivity;
every word connects to another
to form an idea, or a purpose.

Astrology has been around far longer than Astronomy,
and yet, people throw it aside as voodoo...
People saw these unseen forces and connections
long before they saw the connections within Science or Mathematics.
Trust and Love don't have a definite formula which we can see,
but they happen at a certain Time and Place.
If you believe in Karma at all, you know:
Nothing is a coincidence.

When you do something Good,
you put Positive energy out into the world,
and it is much more likely to come back to you
than Negative energy,
But these changes occur so rapidly and unseen,
that we have no way of comprehending their formula.
Each Negative action could be counteracted with a Positive,
and Vise Versa.
We look at Nature's mutations and call them Imperfect,
but that is just our idea of Perfection that we have created.
We expect things to go systematically, like Chomsky says,
we see things in forms of Machines.

But even in Machines, there are Mutations and/or Imperfections.
These are not Mutations at all, or Imperfections. These are just another part of the System, created by Nature.
We expect Nature to be: ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta;
not: ta-ta-lalalalala-ta-ta,
and so, when this happens, we call it a Mutation,
yet it keeps happening throughout Nature and Time.
Even the machines that we create, do this very same thing.
Even our DNA. Even Language.
All these things happen from Connections...
with others, with ourselves, with people we've never met,
with objects, with animals, with our bodies, with thoughts and feelings...
This all comes back to what we call "Karma".

It is hard for me to believe that there is not an unseen force or
Higher Power;
when I say this, I don't necessarily mean God or Heaven or Hell,
or anything religious at all; these are just terms in which
we describe the same things differently.
I do not believe in a Higher Power because I want to go to heaven,
or because I want my parents to be happy after Death.
I believe there is a Higher Power,
because there is proof all around us...

The cells inside our body have no idea why they do their job each day,
kind of like us Humans,
yet we go on living the way we do, performing the tasks
that we're meant to perform.
You could argue that cells don't have a conscious,
or that animals don't, for that matter,
so they have no way of thinking about or comprehending
Life.

But I believe the opposite.
There is no way for us to shrink down and understand
the way that each organism lives,
but it does live.
All things are equal, and though smaller organisms may not grasp
what we grasp;
We may not grasp, what other organisms in the Universe grasp.
Cells and organs live inside of our bodies:
As we live inside of Earth;
It is hard for us to know what is Beyond that.

One thing I know for sure,
depending on your definition of "Reason",
we do live for a reason,
just as the cells in our bodies live to keep us Alive.
Is it possible we are keeping something bigger than us
Alive?

It may not matter to us, since it is an unseen Force,
but the force is certainly there,
which leaves the Explanatory Gap between Science
and the Mind, and Action.
It is there. It is happening. We cannot explain it.
Maybe we never will, so as Chomsky says,
"We live, then turn to dust, and that is all we are."
But that is just a way of looking at things,
like saying the glass is half empty.
I like to think mine is half Full.

If everything did not Connect,
we would not do things for others,
we would not work,
we would not talk,
we would not be human,
we would be Nothing, as we know it.

So, yes, I believe all is connected.
I believe there is no such thing as coincidence.
I believe Mutation and Chaos are an equal part of Nature,
and they represent a Pattern so vast,
which supports a much, much larger Equation to Life
than we can understand Now.
This, I believe.
Sep 2014 · 1.1k
Lady Cannabis (A Turn)
Cannabis: the female plant:
here to implant: a new world,
ruled by Ladies &
worshipped by Gentle Men.
Could you imagine...
the world's beginning again?;

the backwards thoughts of a hem:
the glimmer of a precious gem...
not only the gem itself,
or the structure of its features,
but a time of lovely leisure:
a shrine of kind procedure

in which the stone is looked upon:
a world has come; a world has gone...
and still, a throne to sit upon,
and yet that throne is empty,
though full of kings and centuries,
the twine spins on and on...

The world is but a fallen leaf,
that cannot fall without gravity:
a force that joins with other forces:
a climb that is filled with all rejoices,
sang by entities of all kinds;
filled with soul and filled with mind.
Sep 2014 · 845
Unity in Nature
"I am the very nature in which you have committed such a crime. You have forced upon me something that I, myself, cannot undo. Only you have the power to change the ways of nature, and I shall flow through these changes like a dove seeking water; I shall climb the trees, blooming flowers at their buds; I shall wake the fish each evening for their hunt. But you will do the hunting, you will climb the trees, and you will fly through the skies which I have provided with clouds on this day."

"But what of death? What of...?" God asked me, though he already knew.

"Death will be done, in unity, just as the things I have listed above. You will commit the action, but its essence will come from me, and its beauty shall rest from my *****. What appears as pure hatred will spread through the world and I will be blamed by some, while you will be blamed by others." Mother Nature continued, "'The Gods have no mercy! He will make you suffer for your sins! Mother Nature has strange ways... She does crazy things, terrible things!', they'll say..."

God concludes to Her: "We are one, you and I. These acts are sewn with a strike and a kiss. Though I strike the action of a kiss, the love from a kiss is still felt long after it is done, and for that - I thank you, Mother Nature."

"As do I thank you, for the kiss is never felt without the kiss itself."
#god #nature #him #her #love #feeling #unity #creation #life #death
Sep 2014 · 4.5k
New Doors
What flows through me,
flows through you...
They all call it
some ancient kind of voodoo.

When the cash is not enough,
you have to open new doors,
sit back with the dancing shadows,
as the feeling leaves your pores.

There is some news coming,
and it is not on CNN.
It is the new-coming,
with proper particles of zen.

Beginnings with no ends;
an apocalyptic change...
phenomenon to transcend;
we will never be the same.

The world is awake,
doing all that it can.
Do not make the mistake
of sleeping on the plan.

Different perspectives
under one light;
Different projections
of all that is right.

Walk with the wind,
and feel the depth of the river.
Also feel the cold --
There is no heat without the shiver.

Be calm like a giver.
Plant a vine and let it grow.
Persevere and do not whither...
There is more for you to know.

Take a path and sing a song;
run, walk, and fly.
This is your marathon.
Now, ask yourself why...

You have a purpose,
whether sun or fog,
it will be worth it,
for what you will fight along

the way. Which way?
If you do not know where to go,
hear what they say,
listen and then glow.

Evolution is occurring,
and anxious souls await,
but do not be in a hurry;
it is a door, not an escape.
Sep 2014 · 425
Oscillation
Life is just us oscillating from nothingness.
Life is movement.
It is communication.
When we stop moving, we become nothing.
It's the reason we stay busy in our daily lives;
it distracts us from the fact that if we weren't busy,
we'd be static.
Some practice the life of being still,
and they are happy...
They accept what we truly are:
nothing;
and that is all that we have to be,
because nothing is great.
It's something.
Aug 2014 · 972
Timeless
...funny how the time goes by

as we sit around and wonder why,

but if we didn't wonder about,

the time would have no real amount;

there would be no time to count!

but what is real and what is lie,

is really up to you and I,

yet here we are, wondering why --

like wings, the time, it flies...
Jul 2014 · 574
Plastic
a plastic experience
is something to fear

leave the cave,
or forever rest in darkness

no debt to anyone
but yourself

if you conceive it
you will receive it

oscillation is communication,
and so it goes...
Jul 2014 · 884
"Power to the People"
If power was to the People,
Cannabis would already be legal;
instead, this life is lethal,
and filled with broken steeples.

If you don't see who's controlled,
open your eyes and know --
in this world, there's evil
and different kinds of people,

and when we feel threatened,
our mind becomes a weapon.
So, all that we can do
is enjoy a better view

of a better life ahead...

If we don't,
we're better off dead.
Jun 2014 · 1.4k
Saying Goodbye to Excitement
What if excitement is going out
and hoping to find something or someone
you've never found before?

What if you've already found them?
Where does the excitement go then?
Is it over?
Jun 2014 · 642
The Fork
What is life with no risk?
What is death with no miss?
What are games if not tricks?
I idle my way through,
at the thought of losing you,
for a sailboat and a room for two.

What is love without trust?
What is *** without lust?
What is crime without bust?
The rabbit fell down
the hole on her crown
and wonders where to go now.

Is a toy not for fun?
Is true love not a gun?
Are adventures just a run?
I swam past the seas
of Adam's forsaken tree
and I knew it was for me.

Does one go insane,
when tooling with the shame
of losing one for fame?
I couldn't look the other way
when casting out a slay,
just for another day.

So, is happiness ever wrong?
Could you ever mumble a song?
Does adventure hide along
the bays as I am distant?
Could I ever leave,
or will I never risk it?

For, when I would return,
my soul would be quite different,
but still, the same as now,
for life already kissed it.
I could never wrong,
for wronging is an instant,
that vanishes with smiles
and flowers after ****** in.

Mr. Frost lied about the roads,
it doesn't matter which way you go,
as long as you walk,
you'll get where you end up.
As long as you drink,
you still have a cup.

Can a gain make up for a loss?
Can love be labeled by cost?
Is freedom a myth in a shoe?
Is time a land and a view?

He sees my eyes beyond,
but the pressure is too high.
I see the world beyond,
but cannot reach the sky.

Chain me.
Release --
for the chains, they came from me,
as I let you kiss my cheek,
and love, it makes me weak.

New light is what I seek,
but darkness hovers
where love is weak.
Even true love, at that...
I should have known,
but now I see:
darkness chases after me;
as does light in the darkest days,
as does clarity in the haze.

Do weigh the pros and cons,
but in your heart you know,
even with the odds,
you see which way to go...
May 2014 · 398
Venues of Life
I looked up at the stars
from the bay

and the light absorbed
all my dismay

the smell of the waves
and the flickering shine

were something only
so divine

a long-owed flashback
with tendencies

to recall the world
befriending me

a long forgotten
sort of thing

but now I could hear
the echoes ring

the sound of
all my childish passions

had been so strewn
in social fashions

but the stride of my
young hippocampus

remembered something
like Atlantis

a land so magically
far far away

something strong
with different ways

the death of a star
from millions of miles

I sat and stared
just for a while

then wondered
what Earth may look like

to someone else
in a different life

so far away
in a different time

a small white dot
in an endless chime

a pair of eyes
possibly glancing

back at me
as if we were dancing

together as one
in harmony

performing just what
karma needs

from separate worlds
and separate breeze

connected by
the soul intrigued

in a breadth of air
and a solar stream

I come back down
and see my feet

a simple girl
with simple needs

but as I walk
right down the beach

I glance back up
and lose my speech

dreams adrift
that go unnoticed

the stars bring back
and make me focus

without a beach
there'd be no dream

without a thought
there'd be no seem

a seagull's chirp
and other things

all bring me back
to what I need

and as I wonder
and life continues

I take myself
to different venues

and as the waves
keep crashing in

I smile for all
that is within
May 2014 · 932
Infinity
When the curtain falls,
it leaves a path of energy.

When I leave your room
I feel the synergy.

I could never ignore
feelings that enter me,

so I will end with saying:
we are infinity.
Mar 2014 · 362
Define: Love
I'd never live with an antique fool,
but I'd lie in his bed for an hour or two,
and I'd comfort his skin
with my silky youth.

My Husband would never understand;
he does not know the definition of love,
and neither do you, I bet.
But I know.

I will tell him what could have happened
in the old man's chamber,
or what may have occurred in the young girl's bathroom,
but it would not matter.

For, it did not happen.
If it had, my Husband would be furious.
Unforgiving; our marriage would be tarnished --
over what could have been two eventful nights,

But no! No, this is wrong.
How could I--- What could I have done?
To love one for a century,
with no hopes of touching another soul.

No hopes of flightful risk
that should be no risk,
or care that seems careless.
That couldn't be love, now could it?

I know Love is not a cage,
though we make it that way.
It is like a flower in a vase;
so beautiful and possessed.

Then it dies. In that same water it started in.
But I could show you
something free.
No Death. No Possess.

That's love: Freedom.
No being afraid
of exposing the truth;
no hiding of the Longings.

Only Truth & Freedom.
What do you long for? Would she approve? Would he?
Does she tie you up at night
so you cannot move to another's bed?

In Fear that you may never return...
How pitiful, a love so weak;
a love so unworthy of its own
Name.

He's mine. He's mine.
He's only Mine.
How Selfish.
That is no love I know of.

Love is no cage!
Love is no rage!
Love is not a Bible and a slay!
It is not what we have made it today.

He will never know.
My Husband, whom I love most.
I would never restrict,
I would never cry

for something that makes him joyful
could never rouse my anger.
No anger in my love --- Freedom.
No judgements of lusts --- common.

We can live in a lightened lie,
or think of false definitions,
but the Truth is clear;
Love is to be spread...

Throughout one's life,
one cannot be frozen in time;
Love does not Freeze,
Love creates ease.
Mar 2014 · 291
Post-Winter
Drowned between songs of
Fall & Spring;
Silent.
Not learning a thing,
No spite,
No fright,
Only eye and night.
'Til I wake,
I ask:
O Please
O Please
I Say nothing,
Still.
Summer, I beg,
O Please
No pollen on thy nose;
empty lines of prose...
O How
did it 'appen?
I didn't even see
Nothing.
But 'ere it is,
eerie as it is,
I stand
after a long crawl,
but no expected sun
awaits me.
writer's block at its best
Feb 2014 · 422
What Lies Within
First, I looked to the sky and I saw all the stars;
there they slept; I saw them;

Then, I felt the wind breezing by;
there it moved; I felt it;

After, a leaf fell from a tree and almost touched by face;
there it fell; I sensed it;

Finally, I went to the steam and noticed its movement;
there it moved; I watched it;

In the end, I looked in the mirror and saw myself;
there I stood; I reflected;

After the end, I wrote a poem about all the life around me;
there it was; within me.

In the afterlife, I taught some folk about what I learned;
there they were; listening;

During that time, they began to question what I said;
there they were; the questions;

During the questions, things became torn and skewed;
Life was no longer within the stars,
no longer in the breeze or the trees, or even the stream,
and definitely no longer within myself;
they had taken it outside, while I was inside.

After the questioning, all the life had vanished,
and these things became nouns;
still-life.

After the answering, all the questions disappeared,
and they only saw the answers;
definite.

After memorizing the answers, nothing else seemed to matter,
and no one paid attention to what I had to say;
my teachings were no longer relevant.

Before calling me a liar, they took what I told and made it something new.

After calling me a liar, I screamed, "No! No! That's you!"

But later, no one believed me.

Stars were just stars.
Trees were just trees.
Streams were just streams.
Leaves, just leaves.
Feb 2014 · 780
Palynology
I never wanted to be the flower,
always waiting,
never knowing

I always wanted to be the pollen,
floating across lands,
always going

I guess that is the difference
between you and me

But whether flower or pollen,
we are both seed
Feb 2014 · 895
Blood Spatter Analysis
melancholy music
and strings like water droplets
line my insides
and leak outward
like ten
different kinds of plasma
that no one can interpret
Jan 2014 · 660
A Hundred Children
"I found this guy named God...he was sooo hot, like me. So we had some kids and gave them a place to stay on Earth," she explained.
"What did he think of you?"
"Oh, he thought I was a complete *****, but he loved me anyway."
"How many kids did you have?"
"Oh, hundreds..."
"Wow..."
"They're all so distant now, no wonder they're all so messed up."
"Where is God now?"
"Who knows... he refuses to speak to me."
"Oh, you Devil, you."
"Oh hush.. at least I didn't have a million children like Horus.. that *****."
Jan 2014 · 335
Words
Maybe words will become nothing to me,
because they are starting to mean different things...
slurring together
and moving different ways,
and I'm not sure my tongue keeps up,
because when down is down,
and up is up;
not over is there
or under is here:
everything chained to something else;
A word to a phrase, to a taste, to a smell,
forming new words,
and phrases; ideas; meaning.
Words are words,
but that is not all.
Words keep on changing,
and ears keep listening
but some time
they don't know what I speak;
they say it's not right/incorrect,
or say that I'm weak,
but a word is a word is a word,
and I can say what it means.
It may not mean that to you,
but it means this to me.

~

Languages merging
Feelings meshed
Singsongs
Ravings
Carrying a somewhat cliche heartbreak on her shoulders, she climbed the hill. She figured that all the men in the town would be able to see her up there, so high. Climbing, she contemplated her past relationship and how it had ended. She then tossed it off the hill on her way up, ready to receive a new presence from a new man. Knowing she deserved better, and knowing she would receive better, she had high hopes, but still, a gray aura surrounding her.

She knew that when the sun would set each night, it would glaze her silhouette with vibrant colors of passion and light, reeling in her new mate.The excitement aroused her. Waiting on that sun to go down each night, marking the end of each miserable say of waiting, she sat at the top of the hill.
The first few weeks were hard to watch. She planted a garden and sang and danced around its crops, from day to day. When she became tired, she would stop and sit and close her eyes. Sometimes she would open them, very wide at first, as if expecting a change of scenery. Her eyes would then droop in the realization that nothing had yet changed, but her tomatoes ripening.

I think it was about two months when the flowers in her garden began turning brown and dry. Her sister had stopped carrying water up to the hill for her, from the well. Whether she had asked her to stop, or whether she stopped on her own account, is a mystery to me. But she did stop. This water, was of course, for the girl, not the plants. There was plenty of rain, it being springtime and all. It was the lack of water that the girl was receiving that finally caused her to cease gardening.

Not only did her flowers grow brown, but her smile grew blue. It was that of a forced expression. It looked as if she was trying to convince herself of happiness, when in fact things had taken a volatile turn, downward.

After a long period of thinking herself silly, she began to sleep more often. Her mind was asleep when her eyes were closed; she found this  much easier. When her mind was turned on, she only thought about her past dreams sinking away. Hopelessly, she continued to sit on the hill, now in silence.

~

One early day, she woke to the sun blinding her. A small bird dropped out of the sky and landed on her shoulder. The bird sang songs into her ears and circled her for hours. The bird was doing for her, what she could not. During this time, she began to think deeply.

She thought of all the things that had happened to her. She thoughts of love, and lust, and hate, and life. She thought about the bird that had the strength to sing when she did not. She was ready to sing now. She was ready to dance again. She thought about how selfish she had been to her garden when she had stopped caring for it, because she could not even care for herself. She thought about all the time she felt she had wasted on this Hell of a hill. None of the townsmen had ventured forth; none had even called up to her for her to come down. They must have thought she was crazy!

Only three more days passed, before I looked through my telescope in awe. She had begun to walk down the hill, slowly, but surely. I thought, this must be a trick. Maybe she dropped a shoe. But both shoes were on, and the rest of her clothing, for that matter. She had a determined look on her face, as if she had transcended over night. It was beautiful, really.

As soon as she met the precipice of the hill and the meadow, she ran. She ran toward the trees, where the stream flows so elegantly. She dove in, headfirst, and played like a child, almost. She then got out and lay in the sun, on some grass nearby. She thought herself lame and unjust to spend so much time looking for another man, when she had had herself all along. She was happy alone; I could see it.

After a couple of hours, she got back up and walked over to the water. She crouched down in the kneeling position and then furthered her body toward the water, gazing in, as if hypnotized. She looked down at her own reflection and then screamed with joy. She jumped around and danced and sang. She was so ecstatic, I couldn't help but smile to myself with the utmost joy. She had found herself again. The one thing she hadn't been looking for, had come. And now that her soul had returned to her body, I could return to my life. In that moment, I knew that she was ready for me to go and meet her.
Jan 2014 · 1.2k
So, God
Correctly speaking...

We do not call an animal "it".

We do not call a baby "it".

We do not call he or she "it."

We do not call ourselves "it."

And what is most strangely odd to me, is that...
"correctly" speaking:

We do not call [G/g]od "it".

--

We call [G/god] "he".

He.

When we absolutely know what "he" means in the English language;
it means that the object being represented by the word is in fact, a male.

But even to call [G/god] "she" would not satisfy the feminist in me.
For "she" would refer to [G/god] as a female, of course.

How are we to identify someone or something to contain a *** and gender,
when we have no evidence or implications whatsoever of this speculation?

The Bible states He, His, and Him, repeatedly, no doubt,
but this lack of reference was the only known outlet to Scribes.

The capitalization [G], as to give [G/god] a name -- humanization & personalization,
but this is more of a veil to shield our own humane needs,
because in observation, it appears that this given Name
was given to help our immediate understanding of the subject;
an identifier.

Of course, everything should have an identity;
that is what a noun is, after all.

If it has a voice, and words, and advice,
it must be a person.. We say.
If it can teach and listen and punish,
it must be a species, a being.

Well, indeed, it is. But not in the way you and I  
normally think of this notion.

And should [G/god] be a proper noun? Well, of course..
It is almighty!
(Notice the "it".)

So, God.

Just like other proper nouns, it is the name of a name within a name.
Ocelot, for example, is a cat within the noun "cat".

BUT

God stands alone... It is no noun within a noun.

Or is IT?

"God is a chariot" -- stated many places. "He flows throughout all, within all."
(There's that "he" again..)

It is true! God is a chariot!
God is in me, and in you;
it is in everything;
it makes everything;
it breaks everything;
it is.

You are,
for it flows in you and is a part of you.
And if you exude this piece of your soul,
it will be obvious that God is no he, nor a she,
but it is something inside, waiting to be shown.

It is something to be seen physically-- through action and care--through art and stare.
Anything imaginable, God is in it,
which if I look back at this text and think correctly, you are in it.

You are everything,
because you are a part of everything,
because you ARE God;
You are the creator of your world,
and the eyes of how you see it;
As am I.
So start acting like it,
because everything is an extension of your inner-self.

This is a thing that should not be looked over,
and should not be considered above you,
although it is a higher power,
it is a power within you, that you can achieve.
Nothing worth achieving is low;
you must rise up.

Be godly.
Jan 2014 · 1.1k
Twin Flame
Two flames
With equal elegance
and surrounding colors,

Wood underneath,
And posterior ashes
Which turned from the fire,

Becoming something else;
Transforming together,
With patient speed

And light that shines
To those surrounding --
Often overlooking

The beauty
Which resides
In the flames at night;

For they are not flames
At all,
But are you and I.
Dec 2013 · 463
Lo Necesito
The need
            to heed
                      your seed
  
and plant the things I need,
and soak them 'til they're freed.
Can two truly rule side by side?
Walking separate ways;
making different strides.

A lotus blooms and then it dies,
like all other things in life.

Will we take the mountains?:
climbing as one;

A serpents bite,
a sweet peach,
And a lack of speech.

Light tender skin,
and space filled with zen.


Darkenes eyes,
past or prize?

Can two truly rule side by side?
Walking separate ways;
making different strides.

We could not possibly be the same;
two equals one, will never be sane.

I sit and wonder,
And wait for complain.

Each time they come,
and next, they leave

or I throw them out
with the rest of the dogs --
Let them get lost in the best of the smog.

But a king cannot be thrown from his thrown.
You cannot take back the strength he has grown.

You cannot compare the lengths he has shown,
or the seeds he has sewn.

A careful caress,
and a hat with many jewels.

I've killed all the fools;
my new pharaoh rules!;
taught me what kids never learned in the schools.

Can it be?
Could it possibly be we?

Footprints that fade,
or victorious glee?

Sometimes a storm or
a pigeon of light..

Can two truly rule side by side?
Walking separate ways;
making different strides.
You linger
as I lurk,
and we tie a bow with our thoughts.

Cuidado, cuidado!
A man so rare,
with lips so near...

How could I --
What could I do?
Cuidado.

You underline the thoughts I speak,
and sense the rancid smell I leak,
and climb the trees I once resided in.

Cuidado, I say,
But correr, I do,
It is not easy, when there was one, and now two.
I do not want to live like this.
I do not want to be trapped in this place..
On this planet;
In this country;
In this body;
This is not who I am.

I am infinite:
Mass equals energy,
And energy never dies,
Only transfers.
Who am I?
What am I?

Surely not this..
This is not what I intend to be.
I am not merely a [hum]man,
But I am trapped as one,
Oh,

Trapped so tight.
I cry myself to sleep at night.
I wonder how,
And wonder might,
But then I just
close my eyes;
I hear a hum
And see nothing --

I am this,
But where am I?
I hear myself;
I hear my cry;
I ******* tears and dry my eyes;
My body as the vessel prize --
A chariot from skies above.
I wander now,
And wonder of,

But heed me now,
And give me bliss:
A life of free
And fragile kiss.
This is not me;
Me is not it.
Enclosed for now,
I throw a fit.

My life's a rit!
My life's a rit!
Every life,
It is here,
Then quit.
But you are me,
And I am it.
We are here now,
And so it is.
Where is my Pharaoh,
which fares me so well?
Over that hill,
sitting on his throne?
Wanting...
As the chair
next to him
wilts...
Shall I sit?
Or shall I wait?
Well,
A Queen is never late.
Oct 2013 · 1.4k
We, The Phonemes
We're all just phonemes,
Multiple sounds creating full words

We're all just skin,
Sitting on the surface

We're all just cats,
Looking for a mouse

We're all just fruit,
Growing on a tree

We're all just you,
Being like me

We're all just simple,
Making things complicated

We're all just here,
And everything else there

We're all just a song on repeat,
Playing again and again

We're all just a pencil,
Drawing on a piece of paper

We're all just a planet,
Floating through space

We're all just a light,
Flickering then it fades

We're all just a rubber band,
Snapping back in place

We're all just a dot,
Sitting there silent

We're all just a line,
Going on forever

We're all just a circle,
Endlessly winding

We're all just proteins,
Endlessly binding

We're all just the fall leaves,
Falling into place

We're all just food
Waiting to be eaten

We're all just parodies of each other,
Trying to break free

We're all just a memory,
Waiting to be discovered

We're all just an umbrella,
Finding something to cover
Zillion die beneath and above,
dying for you to experience love.
Energy passing through, signal that fades;
visible mass, joys while it stays.
Unknowing becometh,
blood-sewing bays;
worth every penny,
worth every day.
Mindless and mindful,
alike and the same.
Differently brewing,
'Swhy we all came.
One more here, one more there;
and silence speaks
what you could not dare.
Stride of light and a wave of sound,
Right here-there, right here-now.
Oct 2013 · 800
The Leaving Poem
I don't want to watch you grow old --
bones frail,
busted lip,
pale nose
another crypt to fill
with your body;
yours.

I don't want to watch you grow old --
legs crumbling,
youth running astray,
me waiting
for that day...

I don't want to watch you grow old --
Let me go first!
I beg,
I toss and turn..
And now,
I am at a loss
for words.
Oct 2013 · 1.6k
Who's Your Daddy?
Put on your glasses,
and look at the masses:
sick boy, sick girl,
stock market crashes.

Put on your clothes,
'cause no one has to know
what is underneath --
you'll never have to show.

Do something for yourself.
Put a trophy on your shelf.
Shoot down the law,
and all opposers, as well.

Do not be fatal,
but live in a fable;
go for the moment;
avoid broken cradles.

Go and be peaceful,
'cause we are all people.
Everyone is different,
but we are all fetal.

Make something large;
let your energy charge.
Float out to the vast sea,
then back to the barge.

Stay focused for longer;
there's so much to conquer.
Play by your own rules;
they will make you stronger.

Who is your mother?
You thrive as she smothers
unrequited symphonies,
lucid, as they hover.

Who is your daddy?
Is it not saddening?;
telling you what to do --
government chattings.

Take off your shoes,
and stop being used.
Put mine on now...
Here's the new you!

Give up on jealousy;
flow with the melody.
Do what you want;
end up with a felony.

Say yes to heretics;
put some fare in it;
fill up your lungs,
and watch the clock tick.

Grow like a flower,
and ignore other powers;
Love one and Love all --
happiness-tears shower...
This one is a little bit all over the place, but I hope you find a stanza you can relate to.
Note: the lines about "Mother" and "Father" do NOT represent a mother and father figure, but they resemble our lives being controlled by outside conflicts and unwanted things -- they symbolize emotions. Or anything you want them to be!
The serpent slips
into my veins,
and whispers thoughts
into my brains.
I don't know
which way to go.
I am just a nomad soul;
a naked trip,
a change and a chance.
Lay me with your
premade dance.
I'll put my snake
in a cage
for a while.
Touch my heart
with frozen smiles,
drip-drop, dreams,
and similar things
creep into my eyes
as I walk
another way --
some place that is light;
a fading song
with rearview mirrors,
contacts clearer --
I will keep in line,
the velvet and divine;
you are kissing my spine;
Shine with me.
Dine with me.
No more serpent,
only seas.
But, everything looks perfect
from far away;
and I am so close.
Do you hear me breathing?;
a stomach so heavy.
I am a queen,
and you're feeding me.
You found me in the dungeons,
and now I am free.
A wondrous throne
of transformation,
but none the less --
an innovation.
Will evolution
do us well,
or drown us in pity
and other sad things?
Oct 2013 · 761
Strike Me Down
a tree
that grows,
is then struck down.
Lightening, Lightening;
but, ah,
trees heal,
so He grows again.
Lightening, Lightening;
a strike
so rare,
and somewhat unexpected.
a tree
not struck
is a tree that is neglected.
He needs
the rain
and also, the light.
Lightening, Lightening;
and then,
the ground --
all He can feel.
no more
sky;
only the earth that is quaked,
and the space that is forsaked
when
the Lightening
strikes,
again and again.
Oct 2013 · 392
How do you do?
How do you do?
I sit and look at you --
Something that quacks
is a duck,
but you are not a mirror;
you have no frames,
no glass,
no sharp edges,
but you do have a reflection,
and it looks just like me.
So, how do you do?
Do you stare back at me too?
Oct 2013 · 419
So
So
a time so unexpected,
you oppose to forsake me
with eyes so clear,
I throw away the fake me
an essence so surreal,
the harshest of pinches couldn't wake me
a light so strong,
that I will surrender now, so take me
an arm like a sword,
you could strike me down and shake me
a love so true,
you'd never have to make me
Oct 2013 · 1.8k
My Turn (Letter To A Friend)
Your inferior intellect disgusts me. While I have some trouble verbalizing my own, I know that it is far more than what you display. Your immature actions and juvenile conduct will get you into trouble some day; real trouble. You may not even notice, because you are too stubborn to face the fact that you aren’t a goddess. You have bad intentions and wicked tongue. Your fuel is jealousy and your eyes are blind. But we’re both growing older, and one day you will realize that everything I’ve done has been good.  Or maybe you won’t realize - if not, I will pity you, but I will have no mercy. We all have a choice. We all choose who we want to be, and I’m not disregarding DNA; I know it plays a role, it plays a strong one, but we feed on experience, and I expected better from you--of all people.

You’ve been put through the same evil that you construct. Why? I only want the best for both of us, for everyone. You seem to differ. I’m not sure if it’s selfishness, envy, or determination to make a point, but it’s something. I’m not sure of its irrelevance to our confrontation, but I sure as hell know that it is irrelevant to anything else. So, why? You know as well as I do that we all have our different skill-sets, different opinions, and different incentives, so if you’re trying to prove something, stop. You know the human can’t be tamed once his or her mind is set in place. You’re apparently set in stone. Maybe I am too, so do you understand now? You can’t change my mind. I will do as I please, just as you will. We are a lot alike, you and I. The only difference: yin vs. yang. And you know I’m right. Your inadequate hands, reaching out, just so someone will notice. Well I notice, okay? But I will not submit. Neither will he. So, please stop. I understand your apathy and your care, but is it genuine or is it all a lie? After all these years, I feel that I should know the truth, but now I feel that I don’t know you at all.

I’ve watched the change creep up your spine, and I don’t blame you, completely. I know the storm has been rough, but don’t you know that it covers the whole sky? We’re all getting rained on and all you seem to care about is your own umbrella. Sure, you may hand it to me every once in a while so I have a bit of cover, but I know that you’ll be retrieving it soon, just like always. I just hope that some day the sun comes out for you, because I want that for you. I want you to be okay. I want you to be happy. I  want to be happy. I want your interference to cease. From one empath to another: I know you can feel it. You know you can be better. I’m not sure if it’s fear of failure or simple carelessness that’s getting in the way, but something is. You can control it. I would never intentionally disrespect you; you’re almost like a sister to me, an older sister. So start acting older. You have a substantial amount of potential in this life. All you have to do is let go of all the negativity and you’ll be set free. Just like me. I love you, so please understand.
This was written by me a couple of years ago and no longer applies to the intended reader, but I found it and it caught my eye. Give it a chance, because the first paragraph is a bit harsh..  I hope some of you can relate and enjoy.
Sep 2013 · 479
Premonition Part 2
I watched you,
for quite some time,
as you looked back at me.

You grabbed my hand,
and you gave it a long kiss,
but I realized that it was a kiss farewell.

Your lips were so gentle,
and I never noticed this before,
but it was too late, as you walked out the door.
Sep 2013 · 479
Premonition Part 1
I saw you,
standing there silently,  
but I never watched for long.

You watched me,
as I babbled nonsense,
and you called me beautiful.

I turned to kiss you,
but you were no longer there,
as a mystery filled me and soon began to bloom.
Sep 2013 · 959
La Verdad En Silencio
Te hablo del amor,
y el amor desaparece.
Te digo permanece,
y te desvaneces.
Ninguna palabra puede
hacer que te quedes.
Solamente el silencio
sabe la verdad.
This is my first Spanish poem; be kind!

ENGLISH TRANSLATION:
I speak to you of love,
and the love disappears.
I tell you to stay,
and you vanish.
No words can
make you stay/fit.
Only silence
knows the truth.
Sep 2013 · 807
Locked Up At Noon
Need a storm
Or something less futile,,
A symphony of rain
Pouring down on me again
And again, until I'm drenched,
And the sun sends a glare;
Blinding me,
Binding me
To a frozen state of thought
Where you are a bird
And I've got you caught..
Need a cage
Or something to use
To keep out the bad
And lock you up, surely,
But silently;
Crept before wept,
Into mornings of mourning,
When I decide it's time
To open your door,,
Which you've already kicked,
And bit, and spit,
So I let you go,
And I watch you fly,
And once again,
He is him --
And I am I --
I'll catch another soon,
But it's the same every time
Need another storm,
Or maybe a monsoon..
To wash away
What happened here, at noon
Sep 2013 · 967
Ambivalence
Are you a brush for my golden hair,
or a sharp dagger - so rare?;
Small pinches of my skin stand up,
in applauds, for your arrival,
but the question of survival still remains:
A swift sea? Or an endless night?
Something in between?
I am no owl, but I can see in the dark.
I am no dog, but I'll run if you strike.
Watch as the sun fades, then grows again.
It shrinks as the light fills me, so warm.
Can we share?; Can we love,
with an endless melody, rather than
an excerpt of being?
Whether yin or yang, I still see the air between.
Is it just you, or only me?
Be my daggerbrush,
because my hair still needs to be cut
after some time --
So, keep me in line,
and I'll look after you, truly.
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