Flashback to the time
I once drove off the edge.
When sinister sulking demons cried
and opened fire within my head.
Back to when darkness hung tightly,
a cloak clutched close about all corners.
When concealment couldn't hide me
in my quest for something warmer.

Thank the ocean, sun, moon, and stars
this sullen season slowly faded.
For remnants of filled ash trays and bars
rendered me positively jaded.
I'm still bereft of breathing,
these lungs wouldn't take another sip.
Might the darkness flee if I were leaning
over this candle dimly lit?

Flash forward to hereafter
when such episodes are but a tale,
in which an old demon's subtle laughter
no longer thwarts my efforts to prevail.

My insecurities often scream louder
than the little voice inside of me.
Broadcasting and blasting out of stylish speakers
for all the boys and girls to see.
I've been held down,
by demons with travelling cloaks,
woven with invisible tapestry
clutched about their throats.
So to remove the words
I have so carefully purged
out my enigmatic system,
the ones caught and stuck inside my chest
with unusual strength and mysticism.
I took my hand,
jammed it deep down through my mouth
gagged on my fore fingers a second longer
in order to drag them out.
The vile words,
drowning in biled verse,
I drug them out through dreary space
and hung them with my shirts
I aired out days before.
The score of the fight
lies not in the aired out and forgotten,
but in the formations of tones
and phonetic clones
tangled in my web of rotten
sceptical insinuations.
Indelible infractions,
and taking back my sinful actions
are recanting hate, dispelling fate
burning holes within my reactions.
They've altered my vision,
long blurring scenes of scattered days
glass nails shattered in iron blenders
banishing frantic forays.

I've found it easier, less chaotic
to accept instances where I've felt at home.
I've come to enjoy devilish voices when I've lost it
because at least then, I'm not alone.

It were as if the stars perched consistently atop rafters on Mars
Yet they knew nothing of the silken night’s scars,
luminescent and mirrored in moon rays, such sparse
planetary alignments fine tuned with universal regard.

Elegance snuck a glance at the immediacy of my gut’s stance,
suggesting celestial semblance in your dance be cancelled,
lest bile be spilled, silence, by chance, killed
all for the sake of the trampled

Clock tocked out of stock leaving ticks in her spot
as the alarm beat us back into orbit,
we forgot the words of the day said to do what we ought
as sneaky fate intertwined herself behind my forehead


Often, my sighs are laden with listlessness
in such stillness, eyelids flit with a bliss-less shift
ill-fit shadows cast off dimly lit lanterns kissed
the dimming mechanism behind my lids
fused itself to the plaster
ladders wrought with rusted rungs
lead on to open doors as laughter
bubbled while stairwells warped by weather’s withdrawals,
slunk slowly across the floor


in the stillness

Waves,
they wash
they wash away the tide I'm in
perturbing past abandonment
cleansing out the forgotten winds.
My sins,
cradled deep,
are nestled safe in restless sleep.
Eyelids peeled wide,
white flags torn down,
in hopes
of a sudden
effort to drown out hazy sound.
They've crawled on under
the bridges
bridges you've torn asunder.
Glancing from left to right
might lose the sight,
of offerings gifted within mid-flight
to escape the reign,
of cold misguided precipitants
the forays of hazed and dazed miscreants
with glossy eyes,
ever assuming gazes
of awful, mixed reused phrases
calling my name.

The construction of new truths
requires tracing back to the roots
in which our foundational youth
has been grounded.

Pursuants of knowledge, belief, and perception
falter at the objection
that their reality is not subject to
interpretive conception.

Impermanence
taught me to learn and to shift
with tides of my blind eye's misconceptions.

Just because it's cloudy out
does not mean we have room for doubt
that once upon a sky so blue
a girl, across the sky she flew.
Aloft her winged lacy kite,
her being took off,
amongst birds, mid-flight.

On that very fateful day
she learned a lesson hard to convey,
that while one is suspended in mid air,
it's nice to sit and ponder there.
While one is off and out on their own,
their inner self will flourish and grow.

In that split second of
being neither below, neither above
comfort hung close,
held on like a glove.

That soft, sweet comfort
of sunshine love.

Definitely not having it,
be it "jokes", taunts, or sarcastic ******* wit.
The fine line those walk,
'tween acceptable or not.
Littered, shattered glass on the floor,
diminishing where you can step anymore,
increasing where you ought not
to tread.
Fed up to the brim,
wise cracks, spreading me thin.
Passively pushing past prior pitfalls and pleas
compassion over compensated, as I rise from my knees.
Definitely not your dime piece,
your side piece,
your "when I got the time" piece.
You're misconstrued when you abused
your sly guy remarks to allude me.
This isn't a game you see, but it's not my case to blame,
it's just the years of a broken system
ingrained in your brain.

My heart aches for you,
for your pain, suffering,
heart, black and blue.
It is you
who has mended and tended
my own heart afflicted with wounds.

Strong, still, I see you
amongst your lengthy strife.
Yet your stakes are far higher than
those within my life.
Simple nature of the boundless,
time waits for none, the less
attachment to this mass
taken out of context.

Vexed as I am,
in the sea of uncertain,
words churn in and out of display.

I portray your words, as a series of sounds
calmly collected, as they swirl to the ground.
Stamping out the fire,
which kept vicious shadows at bay,
successfully engulf me, mired
snugly tucked in my grave.

Living life on the wild side,
free, unbound, and open
Lookin' to my right and left,
reality has spoken.
Friends having children,
getting married, buying homes,
but how have I gotten to this place,
to be sitting all alone?

Beaches, movies, long car rides,
tokes, bongies, lifted highs,
all these past times, fast times, future sighs
no longer conceal the realness
of my desire to be blessed
with one who longs to be by my wild side

I shouldn't need another
another lover to cover my insecurities,
but, alas, I long to share my fruitful hopes and dreams
dreams of becoming a greater me,
of climbing tippy tops of trees,
of soaring, crafting, conjuring
what I have only seen
in my third eye,

chasing dreams.

I'm tired of being told how "strong" I am,
how "brave" I am,
how "inspiring" I am,
how "independent" I am,
how "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" I am.

Stop telling me what I am.
I know you're trying to help, but sorry,
if you're telling me that your adjectives are clear interpretations of my personal reality,
you've got it wrong.

I am weak,
I am vulnerable,
I am impressionable,
I am sofuckingtiredofbeingtired.

Maybe I like being this way,
maybe it's why I haven't crawled on my belly,
out of this hole I've dug, deep under my heart.
Maybe I'll build a nest in this hole,
maybe I'll call it home for a while,
while my heart strings string together pieces and shards and broken,
empty jars that once held ambition and positive disposition and collective recognition of hope.

Or maybe I'll just poke
around the haystack,
the needles' got to show itself soon,
lest it ***** my finger and bleed me till I swoon,
at least then I'll have time to sleep,
time to rest,
time to keep,
time to lay,
time to weep,
time to play,
time to
sleep.

sweat, tears
loves, fears
tick, tock
fifth gear.

reverse this rehearsal
to the untimely universal
birth unto this earthly mortality.

relieve strain of the insane
pulsating, gyrating grey masses in what brain?
oh, this brain that says salvation comes to the sinners,
havenʻt seen one come out a winner
beginnerʻs luck stands no chance,
in the invisible, mystic dance.
perchance a lucky mister,
who sits silently and whispers,
tricky tricks that slowly lift you
sky high and lets you see through
lenses of the enchanted,
senses what youʻve taken for granted
candid shots in memories past due.
i see you.

quick flash, too fast to register for retinas
too clever, unknown is the source that caused
this conniving entity exposing who i was
merely seconds ago

paths intertwining,
retreat to escaping silent mind in
vast fields of sunshine and light
righteous are incantations
fiddling in these brain waves
amongst grey matter and foggy haze

these days

slung shot, eye to stranger
danger of cold shoulders show
we won't allow a warm night.
fight the biting urge to scream,
cream smirk to smithereens,
oh, the unseen, tiny green,
so obscene little fiend
gnawing away being,
leaves me with no cents
to pay for acceptance and a smile.

meanwhile,
the outside, it smiles.
but inside cement doors locked away,

is that one so unseen,
so tiny and green.
my obscene little fiend,

won't go away.

I am, who I am.
Proud and boldly standing.
I am, who I am.
Took off, safely landing.

You are, who you are.
Loudly persecuting.
You are, who you are.
Eradicate endless disputing.



WE ARE, WHO WE ARE.
One world, 'neath golden sun.
We are, who we are.
United, we, are one.
Like

disconnected aliens hiding the truth
greed eating handfuls of lies
needs be fulfilled with lives slaughtered and killed
end result: a cheap burger and fries.

mistreated, forsaken, all money taken
from weakened slaves, pawns in ***** chess
say not a word, try keep disease from the herd,
too late, its been ****** in the vortex.

my mind, my mind.
it doth unwind.

to sleepy, slumber i go.

my mind, my mind.
it doth unwind.

to thoughts of where rivers flow.

my mind, my mind.
it doth unwind.

to inklings of the unknown.

my mind, my mind.
it doth unwind.

oh dear, where did my mind go?

I am still a Child. by Samantha Shaw



Phor (father), Mae (mother),

I tried to do as I was told,

I’m trying to obey you, trying not to betray you,

but I don’t understand, I’ve been sold?

am I a resource?  One of exploitation and sales?

I don't understand mama, what if all else fails?

Where am I going and why is it dark here?

For in my small confinement, all I can smell is my fear

It is Dtoolahkom (October), the day is Tuesday,

and since you're flying me to Malaysia, where will I stay?

Mommy, I'm frightened, I don't want to go

No, not with that scary man I don't know.

His hands are clammy, he smells of bad cabbage!

You may not believe me, but he's a ***** old savage.

He's asked me to do things,

things I won't pronounce.

Ever since his grubby hands

undid my blouse.



My name is Mae,

Mae Luang of Myeik, just south of Bangkok

I must whisper to you, for fear they will hear my talk

I used to be happy, my family used to be sound,

but now there's no money, and I've a hunger so profound.

My tummy, it aches of pain and sorrow,

sometimes, it looks away from my tomorrow.

Fifteen years, is the age of my soul.

An adult, so I'm told,and that is why, my soul has been sold.

I've been told, "It's your duty", "Uphold our family name",

but will it still be honor when taken in vain?

I know money is out there,

it is mine for the take,

but do I really have to let my frail body be at stake?





Up in the sky, so high, we can fly,

so no man can touch me,

this little girl won't cry.

My sigh is as deep as the lake I've been kept under,

but, I see Malaysia airport, my dreams now torn asunder.

Reality hitting me with fists to thin stomach

down the spiraling hole, down to earth will I plummet.

He's coming towards me,

takes my hand and my bag,

breath smells like whiskey, I can't help but gag.

Into the car is shoved my physical being,

onto my head placed a bag to keep me from seeing.

The dark, what I fear, when rancid breath is near,

my body cringes and my eyes start to tear.

I can't help but regret this predicament I'm in.

For I know, what's to commence,

is world's most immortal sin.





We sat in our stalls after "work",

this little girl and I,

we spoke very little, she was young, a bit shy.

When I looked at her face,

so delicate and small, she whispered in my ear:

"Get out, save us all.

Run as fast as those legs will run,

don't stop until you've reached setting sun.

Onlythen will you be able to free your bound being,

and tell of our story, let the whole world start seeing.

Our lives will be redeemed, I believe in you Mae Luang,

now go and fix the rights that have been wrong all along!"





With her words in my chest,

I held my head high, and sprinted out the door when the night guard came by.

I ran until I felt my lungs would burst,

in my head rang out "the children come first!"

I'm glad I remembered to grab some money that night,

the money I "earned" helped pay for my flight.

Back in the air, my head cleared of bad thought

trying not to remember, all negativity forgot.

From that day on, I vowed to change Thailand’s wrong-doing

and now, years later,

I am the head of the board to end child trafficking.

quick flash, too fast to register for retinas

too clever, unknown is the source that caused

this conniving entity exposing who i was

merely seconds ago



paths intertwining,

retreat to escaping silent mind in

vast fields of sunshine and light

righteous are incantations

fiddling in these brain waves

amongst grey matter and foggy haze



these days