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Dead Puppy, Broken Men
add opening narration/exposition/explanation; scenario with Jared

Yesterday:

"I've felt alone my entire life. Please don't make me be alone when I'm with you," Shellie begged Jared.
"You're not alone. I love you," was Jared's reply.
"But you won't open up to me."
"It's just really hard. I've always been this way."
"But why?" Shellie desperately yearned for the answers she would never find. "You need to love yourself, or you will never truly love me. You won't be able to."
"I do love you."
"Maybe you just think you do. Saying 'I love you' doesn't make it true. You have to show me that you love me. I can't handle this much longer. Nothing has changed in two years. Nothing."
"I know," Jared begins to cry, "I'm sorry. I really am."
"Don't cry please."
Jared looks away at the black T.V. screen in Shellie's apartment. He is silent for a long time, but eventually Shellie is able to pry his entire childhood out of his sewn-shut lips. She wouldn't take silence for an answer. Not anymore. If Jared hadn't come home, Shellie would have spoken to no one all day. She liked her alone time, but depended on Jared to be her right-hand-man, her main squeeze, her soul mate, and right now -- he simply wasn't being that. He was being something else; a subject of inspection, a psych-ward patient; a lost friend, who she longed to have back.
"Thank you for telling me," Shellie said as she squeezed his shoulders from behind, comforting him with tiny pecks on his cheeks. "Things make more sense now."
Jared said nothing the rest of the night. He instead sketched photos of slimy creatures with clenched teeth into his notebook, creating meticulous lines, surrounding the figure, as if it were travelling through time and space, into a new dimension, far away from this one.

---
Today:
"Did you know that there is a lizard that can only be female, and they don't have ***, they just clone themselves?" Brannan asked Shellie, his best friend.
"I wish I was that lizard..." Shellie sighed.
"What! Why!" Brannan exclaimed with confusion and worry.
"Because. *** messes everything up. I don't know...Maybe I'm just crazy," she stammered, looking for the right words.
"It's Jared, isn't it?" Brannan asked, already knowing the answer, because he knew Shellie.
"Yeah...I'm giving him one more chance. One more and that's strike three, you're out!" She laughed nervously.
"Ooookay," Brannan agreed, "one more chance."
Eli glanced up from the TV and looked at Shellie, wondering how anyone could hurt someone so sweet. But what did he know? He killed people for a living.
"What did he do?" Eli pried.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've talked about it enough. All guys are the same."
"That's not true," Brannan tilted his head to the side in pity.

"The king is here!" Andy announced, as he walked through Brannan's door with a pound of **** in his canister, which was covered in skateboarding stickers and graffiti. Everyone cheered, and Brannan stopped playing Call of Duty, put down his Xbox controller, and picked up the pack of rillos that Eli had bought prior to coming over.
"That game ain't nothing like real life anyway," Eli mentioned, as he put down the other controller and everyone hastily made their way over to the kitchen table. He walked over to the freezer to pull out some Jack Daniels and ice, then went to the cabinets for a glass, turning his army cap backwards, pouring his drink, and taking a swig.

"How much do I owe you?" Brannan asked.
"We'll talk later," Andy replied.
"I was going to tell you, I still don't have what I owe you from last time, but Alexa said there is an opening at Starbucks, so I'll be able to pay you back ASAP man. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem," Andy said disdainfully.
"I'll roll it!" Shellie yelled to break the tension, as she put down her phone, only to pick it up again to check the time. Her boyfriend would be off work soon. Would she have to text him first again? Was he even thinking of her?
"Go for it!" Brannan tossed the rillo pack to her.
As she was finishing the roll, her phone went off. Shellie believed that maybe there was hope after all.
"Nope, just my dad..." Shellie mumbled to herself and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Brannan asked, with concerned blue eyes, through his thick-rimmed, black glasses.
"It's just Jared," she said as she pushed her lips to one side and looked down at her phone.
"What did he say?” Brannan asked.
“That’s the problem. He hasn’t said anything all day,” she explained in distress. Brannan noticed she hadn’t worn makeup in days, and by the looks of her outfit, she hadn’t been doing daily yoga like usual.
“Maybe he’s just super busy?” Brannan asked reluctantly.
“HE’S busy?? No. I’M busy.” She paused as Andy and Eli raised their eyebrows and widened their eyes. Eli was confused, because she had always seemed happy whenever he saw her. "I'm in school AND I have three jobs. What does he have? ONE job. One. I think he has time to text me, thanks for your input though."
Brannan said nothing, but pressed his teeth together and opened his lips, revealing a worried look with sad eyes, toward his dear friend.
"Yeah. He just doesn't get it. I'm a fire sign and I'm full of passion! Well, partially an air sign, which is probably why I’m so forgiving and understanding. But if he doesn't reciprocate soon, I feel like I'm going to go insane! Like, really? You don't want to go see Star Wars with me? What kind of person are you? Who doesn't like Star Wars? Really though," Shellie added.
"Maybe he's already seen it and doesn't want to tell you," Brannan suggested.
"You think so? Who would he go see it with though? All of his friends have already seen it. Do you think he saw it with his ex?! Oh my God..."
"Here, take this," Eli said as he handed the blunt to Shellie.
She took a big puff and exhaled as she closed her eyes in relief.
"You know what. I'm overthinking this. He just gets anxious in public, that's all," Shellie explained and looked around for reassurance.
"Are you sure that's all?" Brannan asked as he swung his black bangs away from his face.
"I don’t know... He's really mysterious and quiet. It's really hard for him to open up, I think. He didn’t really have a dad growing up. He's gotten better at talking to me, but he's still weird around big crowds of people. He never wants to go anywhere with me. It *****. I think he's learning to get better though. Maybe he's just young, I don’t know, but I'm sick of acting like his mother, you know? Why can't he learn things on his own? We're all scared, but if you don't face your fears at some point, then what's the point?"
Andy couldn’t help but think she sounded like a nagging *****.
"You know you just partially described the personality of a serial killer, right?" Brannan asked with comedic horror on his face.
"Did I?" Shellie asked.
"You deserve better!" Brannan's mom yelled from the living room. She was watching some reality TV show that she shouldn't have been watching. She continued to Shellie, "You deserve someone who takes you out and treats you right! You're a sweet girl!"
Shellie looked down at her phone. Still no text.
"Do you want to hit this?" Shellie yelled to Brannan's mom.
"I'm good, thank you though! I've got to finish these lesson plans for the day care," she explained with a sigh.
"Aww, sounds kinda fun," Shellie said. Shellie had thought about being a teacher, or maybe a counselor, but after helping so many people with different problems, she was starting to second-guess her passion for it.
"Nice blunt," Andy complimented Shellie. He thought Shellie was kind of cute, now that he had caught Eli in Alexa's bed and was no longer drawn to her. Despite her messy hair and mix matched attire, she had things together. She had things going for her. What did Andy have going for him?
"Thanks," Shellie smiled. Jared hated blunts, but he loved cigarettes. It made no sense to her.
"So what have you been up to?" Eli asked Shellie. "It's been a while."
"Just busy, busy. School and work, you know,” she said as she took one final puff before passing the blunt on its way, into the final circulation, never to return to her. She wanted to ask Eli about his life, but knew he couldn't say much, so she just went back to her phone.
Eli looked at Alexa, "Cigarette?" he asked.
"Yes," everyone except Shellie replied.
They all went outside in the freezing cold to get a brief buzz, while Shellie stayed inside, in the warmth, jotting down new business plans for her yoga studio into her phone. She then opened one of her books, but couldn’t focus on the text, so she quickly closed it. She then sat there in jaded silence, waiting for her friends to return from their strange endeavor.

"All the girls at my work are such *******! Like, one day I think they're my friend, then the next day I'm like, who are you?" Alexas was saying to her mom in between inhales and exhales.
Brannan looked at Alexas then at Eli with a look of concern and distaste. His mom noticed his expression and gave a brief response of agreement with her eyes, quickly returning to her daughter's concerns with compassion and empathy.
"Like, Kate said she wanted to hang out and everything, then she just doesn't respond. What the Hell?"
"Yeah, you probably just shouldn't be friends with them," Brannan replied.
"I have to be! I work with them," Alexas explained.
Knowing it was a lost cause, Brannan turned toward the glass door, where one of his cats pawed at the frame. “Aw, look at Izzy,” he said, pointing.
“Awwww,” his mom replied as she sipped on white Beringer.
“Let her out,” Brannan said to Alexa, since she was next to the door ****.
“No! She’ll run away,” Alexa said.
“No she won’t,” Brannan argued, as he made his way behind his sister, slightly pushing her, and letting Izzy outside.
She looked at everyone, let out a small meow, then hopped down into the grass, under a bush, and out of sight.
“Look what you did!”Alexas said, raising her voice.
“She’ll be back…” Brannan assured her, with ****** eyes.
Alexas rolled her eyes and Brannan continued, “She just wants to be free, Al.”
Their mom watched Izzy as she scurried into the neighbor’s yard. “Yeah, she’ll be back,” she said.
Then Eli turned to Andy and said, "You trying to play Call of Duty?"
"Sure," Andy agreed, though all he could think about was how Eli had been in Alexa's sheets the week before. “I’ll ******* **** you dude.”
“Yeah right,” Eli said as he let out a laugh, not knowing that he knew what he knew.

Alexa went to the living room with her mom, and Brannan returned to his spot at the kitchen table next to Shellie. Smoke stained the air, as Brannan picked up his phone and began playing a Pokémon game. Shellie tried to act interested, but all she could think about was Jared. Eli and Andy finished shooting each other and came back to form a circle.
“Bowl?” Brannan asked.
“That’s okay,” Shellie said, “I’m trying to cut back.”
“What…” Brannan said in disbelief. He packed the bowl anyway and handed it to her.
“Naw,” Shellie said.
“Yaw! Brannan yelled.
“No.”
Brannan handed the bowl to Andy and as Andy hit the bowl, he turned to Eli and said, "Hey, so if someone sat 12 million dollars in front of you, and a puppy in front of you, and said: The money is yours, you just have to crush this puppy to bits. Would you do it?" He looked at everyone as if he already knew the answer; as if it was obvious. Andy waited for everyone else to reply first. Brannan had no intentions of replying, since he was trying to be Christ-like lately.
"No, I wouldn't do it," Shellie said.
"Are you serious?!" Eli asked with pure shock on his sun-kissed face.
"Yes, I'm serious. Would you do it?" She leaned forward, almost rocking out of the tall bar stool she was sitting on.
Brannan and Eli chimed in, "You would SO do it."
"I would SO not." She repeated angrily, hitting the blunt and blinking her brown eyes to moisten her contact lenses.
Brannan's younger sister walked into the room to sit down, and Shellie looked to her for an answer. "Would you??" She looked at her with eyes of a beggar's, pleading for understanding and empathy.
"Do what?" Alexa asked, and the boys repeated the scenario, talking with utter excitement.
"A puppy? A cute little puppy?" Alexa asked.
"Yeah, a puppy or 12 million dollars," Andy coaxed.
"I couldn't do it! I could never do that!" Alexa gasped. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t!”
"That's what I'm saying," Shellie agreed. "I'm not even a dog person, but I would grab the puppy and run! Maybe report that guy to the animal police or whatever."
"Yeah!" Alexa agreed, as she took off her Starbucks sun visor and laid it on the table, next to Brannan’s laptop, Eli’s sketches, Andy’s backpack, and Shellie’s books.
"You all are crazy!" Andy said. "If the money was right in front of you, you'd do it, no question."
"No," Alexa and Shellie both said firmly.
"You'd just have to see the money, right there in front of you, in person," he kept on going.
Eli took a sip of his whiskey, then made stomping motions with his feet and said, "Haha! Gone! 12 million dollars richer. You know what you can buy with that much money? Tons of new puppies, if you really wanted to." He laughed.
"Yeah, you could **** me and make tons of new friends, too," Shellie said as she rolled her eyes in disgust.
"That's not the same though," Brannan finally spoke. "We don't know this puppy like we know you."
"Well someone does," Shellie insisted.
"Maybe," Brannan replied.
"Someone could," Alexa said. "Unless you **** him."
"Who said it's a boy?" Shellie asked sheepishly.
"You're right. It should be a girl," Alexa agreed, "like sweet little Lola over here." She scooted her chair from the table, and beneath her feet lay her sleeping Border Collie. She got up from her seat and lowered herself to the floor, head to head with the dog. She touched her nose to the dog's nose, kissed the dog’s cheek, and patted her head before returning to her peers on the bar stools above.
Everyone went silent, and Shellie wondered if the boys felt ashamed - so obsessed with power, that they forget to love.

---
Yesterday:

"You know how I told you that I didn't really know my dad growing up?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it's because he was in jail for a while."
"How come?"
Looking around, as if for help or guidance, Jared hesitated to say what would come next.
"What is it??" Shellie pleaded, her imagination running wild with fear and worry.
"He ***** me."
"W-what..." Shellie was taken aback. She would have never guessed this is what all Jared's anger had stemmed from. Life flashed before her like a lightning bolt. It surged through her entire body, carrying memories of her perfect childhood juxtaposed next to Jared's. She thought of all the times she had met Jared's dad. She thought of how they worked in the same office, and Jared had to see his face every single day. She wondered how deeply this must affect his life, and how little she had noticed. Had she misjudged him completely? Why were all of her boyfriends so damaged? Was she drawn to damage? What if he ended up like his father? She wanted to help him. She had to.
"But how? Or... Like, where?! Did your mom know?"
"That's why she divorced him. He used to rent hotels on the weekends and tell my mom he was taking me along on his business trips. It wasn't until I was seven... I started having nightmares. I couldn't wake up. I'd scream and yell, telling him to get off me."
"Oh, Jared. I love you so much. You know that? I'm here for you. **** him. You don't need him. Your mom is great, and your little brother loves you. I love you. It's surprising how great you turned out, honestly."
"Yeah..." Jared said, slightly offended, but also in agreement.


* note for author from author: add scene with Alexa and Lola -- Lola biting her over and over. He's hurting me, ow!! "She just let her bite her. Over and over again." She did nothing about it. She endured the pain.
Shellie teaches Brannan how to "train" his dog.. play with her, be her friend. She just wants to play. She doesn't want to watch us smoke **** all day. You have to act like a dog sometimes if you want her to love you and be good.
reference to god's of love.. maybe venus and mars
- add more in between blunt roation.. it burns too fast
- create more setting!! (vital)
- add physical fight between Eli and Andy
- add scene with brandon's dad at very beg
4.5k · Sep 2014
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.
Chasing each moment,
as a pendulum swings on and on.
Dancing in the flight
of a sensitive mystery.
When the light switches on,
I stand there frozen.
An emotive string flows
through me and throughout.
The laws of unrequitement
damper all the smiles.
The flaws of each entity,
tear my soul thin as ice.
I know what must be done,
but can't bring myself
to let go.
2.5k · Apr 2013
Something Tangible
Time moving forward,
need something tangible.
I'm moving forward;
are you tangible?
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.
As soon as you make something seem terrible,
it becomes
slightly terrible.

Someone could be using that very something in a good way,
but as soon as someone comes up with a bad way it could be used,
that thing becomes tainted by thought.

Those people ignore the good in that thing,
and imagine a bad future with it,
creating a taboo that is almost inescapable.

Our thoughts create our future.
Give things a chance.
Think positive.

The future is in our hands.
It is also in the hands of bad people.
We must coexist and cease blame on things.
2.1k · Nov 2015
A Girl, but No Feminist
I couldn't tell you
how many poems I've read
about girls in disguises,
girls hiding in their closets,
girls acting like girls,
wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about wishing,
but a poem of being.
This is not a cry for help,
but a song of assurance.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

You won't find me painting
on makeup each morning
for confident clarity.
{red blemishes flourish}

You won't find me tearing
my feet up each night
to look tall and fancy.
{bruises on the heel}

You won't find me wearing
a red push-up bra
for emotional support.
{endless back pain}

You won't find me shaking
while holding a gun
for protection.
{fear is stupidity}

I couldn't tell you
how many girls I've seen
doing these things,
over and over;
girls wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about hope,
but a form of being.
This is not a scream of pity,
but an equalist view.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

I choose to be myself,
despite the boys who call me odd;
despite the girls with envious eyes.
I choose to play video games at 2am
and eat until I feel sick.
I choose to wear band tees to the bar
and go home alone.
I choose to say what I mean
and suffer the consequences.
I choose to wear less clothes,
and sometimes more,
when I want.

I've found someone
who loves me for who I am.
I've found two people, in fact.

There is a boy
who comes over
and I can call him my love;
I can call him my best friend.
There is a boy
who never judges
the boy in me;
the things I do.
There is a boy
who reminds me
a lot of a girl,
who picked flowers with her mom
when she was little.

And sometimes,
I put on makeup for you,
because I love you,
and I want you to know I'm proud.
Sometimes,
I'm proud of myself,
because I got the eye liner just right.
And sometimes,
I like acting fragile
so I can do less work
and watch as you tire in sweat.
Sometimes,
I even shout my worries to the sky.
But moderation is so important
in a time so rigid
with lust.

There is a girl
who is me,
and that boy
and that girl
both know who I am.

I am sick of complaints;
I am sick of the 1950's attitude;
I am sick of excuses;
I want to see action;
and I don't mean a protest.

And maybe you like
being a girl.
Maybe you dress up
purely for yourself,
and no one else.
But that doesn't explain
the things that you say
in public and in retrospect,
as tears fall down your cheek,
and knives glide off your tongue.

I see more of it every day --
girls just like me.
You are only weak if
you believe that you are.
You are only a girl
if you think that you are.
I am a human being,
and so are you.

I am no feminist.
2.1k · Feb 2015
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
1.8k · Oct 2013
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.
1.8k · Mar 2016
As Women
As women,
we can learn to love anyone --
taking them in as our children,
but to fall into love is another matter
that involves not a mother's choice,
but a man's wisdom:
to love himself,
to care for his woman,
and to plan for his future,
rather than to be the child of his woman
who must sweat each day away
with the worries of his worship.
All a woman yearns for is his affection,
which a man is most hesitant to give
at times when he must show strength
in place of grace,
and anger in place of empathy.
Even as these things roll off his shoulder,
a woman may continue to love tenderly,
for that is what a woman is;
born into life to comfort those in need --
whether child or man, monster or husband,
she cannot resist
to allow one evil spirit to leave this world swiftly,
untouched by the hands of an angel.
1.7k · Feb 2015
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.
1.6k · Mar 2013
Feud in the Dungeon
I feel like I'm living in a circle,
because I've been here before -
From a bright angel
to a goddess *****.
I am not happy,
but I am not sad..
Indifferent maybe, just a tad.
It's been a while
since I've seen this place.
It feels kind of good,
like my own outer space;
A mystery,
but one I've already solved.
So is this part two?
Or has it yet to dissolve?
It's like the Dark Ages,
but my darkness is home.
When I leave:
merely a temporary roam.
If I cannot bathe in evil
and I cannot eat the gold,
then I must do something
before I unfold.
Twisted as twine
and blank as a slate,
liking it here,
but planning escape.
1.6k · Oct 2013
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!
1.5k · May 2013
Liberty Laboratory
just living
is a rebellion
the singing and the screaming
collide into one
each day
I work for someone
who I do not know
I give them money every day
because we all have to pay
just for living
the composer turns his hand
he asks for us to stand
and we do
as the sitter is exiled
and the new rules are filed
we look to the stars
a world in denial
to freedom
who’s your father
beg for martyrs
because we all
do nothing
at all
like hermits in a shell
inside the cage
we walk the streets
and work the wage
circles of beings
and tireless days of occurrences
with brand new acquaintances
living just the way
they were yesterday
giving everything
to someone above us
equality irrelevant
I don’t like the smell of it
something’s gone cold
we all grow old
let us all blossom the way we desire
be the pet’s owner
that sets the pet free
look in the eyes
of a soul
and let it be
we will surely be thankful
for all the degrees
a smile and laughter
will come from beneath
take off your role
throw in your sheets
uncover your lost soul
find what you need
powerless fusion of hope
grind your teeth down
do what you please
no stress over spilt milk
we are the meek
don’t open your mouth
simply to speak
say something worthwhile
or silence indeed
waking on pillows
justice to sleep
with a head so heavy
that it is light
and a dance so quick
that it goes something like
rapid melodies drifting
into a time
a time that is new
something that’s right
with wishful thinking
you gain delight
but think or think not
I know what I don’t want to know
it fairs me well
while you fancy the rest
the drill is in the ground
just close your eyes
don’t make a sound
give out a smile
come hang around
because just living
is a rebellion
each day
I work for someone
I don’t even know
I still walk with my feet
for now
even though
1.5k · May 2013
Eclecticity
a blue flower
a runner's shoe
a sun that's shining
a ride that's new
a person laughing
a cat in the window
a melody rising
a happy widow
a twisted drum
a soft goodbye
a pretty face
a peaceful sigh
a libra calling
a buttoned shirt
a crab with claws
a cut that hurt
a white smile
a bullet punch
a hiked up skirt
a snack to munch
a disco sound
a plant that's green
a piece of paper
a ballet scene
1.5k · Mar 2013
Gypsy Warrior
glitter mist and clouds of dust
tiger fur and wonderlust
hills and flowers and brand new land
feet of stone and sturdy hand
marchway path and headway cliff
eyes of purity and open myth
1.4k · Jun 2014
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?
1.4k · Oct 2013
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
1.4k · Feb 2017
Personalities
What if
our personalities
are just
our mother
and our father
fighting
inside of us?
1.3k · Mar 2017
d e c i s i o n s
She couldn't decide who she wanted to be,
so she was everyone.

She couldn't decide what she wanted to do,
so she did everything.

This
was better than being no one;

This
was better than doing nothing,

as many are, and many do...

She
was not them.

She
was different.
1.3k · Aug 2013
Borderlines
I’m borderline introvert, extrovert
Don’t try to tell me who I am
Through a test
I am nothing you’ve seen yet
Apples and oranges
But I’m a tangerine with a slice of green
And I’m borderline upset with the world
I try to understand
I try to make it right
Go and feed my cat
Fall asleep at night
But you can’t tell me who I am,
'Cause I’m sitting on the borderline
Going every direction
There’s no end
Are you gonna pay for that *******?
Count my tens
Then start again
This is a metaphor for your mind
But let your soul think free
I’m just a ***** for your hind
Come and get me
1.3k · Aug 2013
Paths & Mechanics
Some people are just born with a better brain. Higher quality, if you will. They see clearly, what is in front of them, as if they've been on this planet for years, studying the art of things. Think of it like this:

You're in a field of wild flowers, trying to find a path to the daisies at the other side. You pick up a machete and hack your way through to the daisy flowers. It takes hours.

Well, someone with a different brain... They may be looking for those same daisies, but there are only a couple wild flowers blocking their path. They have no use for a machete and frolic to the other side with glee. They arrive with no worries and no troubles. They accomplish something in seconds, that took you hours to figure out.

Maybe you don't even pick up the machete until it's too late. Maybe you never pick it up. Maybe you never see the daisies. Everyone is different. It's all in the mechanics of things...
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.
1.2k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (4)
It's something green
and quite obscene.
1.2k · Feb 2016
All Cupcakes Must Be Eaten
I remember when you called me Cupcake
And said that everything would be okay
Then the very next day
You broke my heart
With scars on your wrists
And ice in your eyes
A little piece of my heart turned to dust
And there's still a gap there
Tugging at every relationship
I attempt to unfold
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.
1.2k · Jan 2014
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.
1.2k · May 2017
Queen of the Flames
& from the flames she rose,
as she looked down at her toes
and saw the dirt beneath,
where all the plants would grow
1.1k · Mar 2013
From Him
She slides down the bed like a serpent on a tree.
She moves like the ocean, and she's coming for me.
Her hair is like silk, and her eyes are divine.
Her lips are so soft, and her **** is my shrine.
She dances so slowly that I have to weep.
She asks to come in, and I'll be hers to keep.
Her toes start to curl as I bite her powder neck.
Her scent keeps me sane, for I am a wreck.
1.1k · Sep 2014
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.
1.1k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (2)
No man's love
sails her ship.
1.1k · Jan 2014
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.
1.1k · Mar 2013
Yin
Yin
Brand new journey
of hopes and dreams
Some new tasks
aren't what they seem
I miss my past life
I miss my home
I'm in a place
that's quite unknown
I've been here once
in adolescence
I left it then,
for brand new essence
I lingered there
for quite some time
I learned some things
and made them mine
Now I'm stuck
and nothing's lost
But still I mourn
and pay the cost
My title changed
my morning kills
I wake up torn
and feel so ill
A broken cat
whose senses fade
I look back at
the life I've made
I'm still positive
and still so proud
But when I'm alone
I scream out loud
With ages changing
and friends amidst
still some scatter
others twist
Identity crises
the first in a while
It seems it's been years
since I failed to smile
I don't understand
I feel so fine
but just a year ago
I felt divine
I surrender
Indifference consumes
I may not be me
but certainly not you
I have no regrets
I'll do what I do
I just pray to Bastet
that I'll make it through
Through the struggle
I'm like the Cheshire
I smile and then
I disappear
I'm sort of there
but kind of here
I still have zen
and **** my fear
but needed time
for you to hear
1.1k · Apr 2013
Growth
We wanted to grow old,
but no, we didn't know..
And after the best years pass,
we yearn to have them back.
1.1k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (1)
I was walking;
Then, I ran.
1.1k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (3)
These crooked focals
guide my way.
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.
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?
1.1k · Feb 2015
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.
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.
1.1k · Feb 2016
A Wilted Flower
Isn't it sad to watch a flower die?
Isn't it ironic that we're so happy when we pluck one from the Earth;
a happy and senseless ******.

Plucking is a lot like loving.
We want it to be ours. We can't just let it grow and let it be;
a selfish interruption of the naked soul.

We dress it in suits and ties, don't we?
It's important for things to appear as though they aren't tainted;
like true love awoken from myth.

But underneath her red velvet dress,
lie insecurities, a lock, and a key, to make sure he never leaves;
a trap for the foolish and the sweet.

The flower wilts inside the vase,
unable to breathe and spread its roots around the world;
love enclosed with foreshadowed defeat.
1.1k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (8)
Arriving early,
and always leaving swiftly.
1.0k · Feb 2015
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.
1.0k · Sep 2013
Six-Word Memoir (5)
A cluster of
aberrations and light.
981 · Sep 2014
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.
974 · Aug 2014
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...
970 · Sep 2013
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.
963 · Sep 2013
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.
932 · May 2014
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.
931 · Mar 2013
Love Hexagons
How do I love the unlovable?
I cannot walk any further for you.
I keep digging and need a new shovel.
I have walked miles just to look at you.
I walked in circles and squares and hexagons.
What more can I do?
Are you even here, or are you gone?
I want to love you,
but you won't let me.
It can't be me, I've thought this through.
For, I have loved many.
Have you ever loved at all?
If not, take away my shovel
and hand me a saw.
I can't take this anymore.
Can't you see me begging?
I've been your lady and your *****.
Is there something I'm forgetting?
I'm starting to think the door is closing,
or maybe it already has.
Now I have to break through a window
and I'm going to get cut by the glass.
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