This fits nicely into the story of my life
A nice chapter leading up to the ******
The ****** that wasn't as long and steady as it should have been
A ****** that took a vertical drop to an unresolved conclusion
This fits nicely into the story of my life
It took up a few pages
But I'll have to wait for the publication of the sequal
to find out what happens next

This rough draft of Part II is a bad sketch
There is grammer errors and mispellingz
My punctuation. Is off as, well as my punctuality
But the sequal will be released in time

As the author of my story,
I'm not sure any words will start with the letter you.

and it is undone
plucked from the snow

with the glasses
of a rose
back on the bridge

I saunter on
til the next doubt
comes along
and tries to *****
my thumb.

with the internet the fictional characters rebelled, added to the  stealing of shadows by hollywood, now comes the true time of who the  narrators are... if no narrator relieve character studying and keeping  narration in a state of ~necessary placebo we’ll only get alien  invasions and bomb blasts to succor the anaemic characters... we need  charisma from narrators who are characters as if imbued by the  surrounding... we hardly need mythologies of ghosts that replaced  mythologies of gods... we need narrators ready to forget fictive  chronology and engage in the life of what their characters live; nothing  else, nothing more; show us a weak narrator overcome by a strong  character... stop shoving us so much imagery of contentment resembling  ~strength  of characters... when the narration is weakened by cloning  termed sequal / prequel / sequal no. 2 / no. 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 etc.  how can  a weakened narrator ever provide a strength of character? never mind,  the punctuation in philosophy is stressed by the question mark - meaning  a question will provide offshoot narrations in whatever arrangement the  comma, the full-stop semi and colon will allow... the question mark is  an entry point of punctuation, it’s the full-stop with something being  added in relation to another person... so if a poem is given alliance to  parallels, i always italicise in a method of anti p.s., although  strickly p.s. as pre scriptum: what made me think after i have written  something as easily disposable in comparison with tolstoy’s war &  peace on the basis of what denotes civilised people?*

when i do something that’s not too excessively adjectively biased
like the book of genesis: ‘ah ****... it’s good,’ said god
concerning the world that gave us
the infestation of diseases and statues of david...
good thing he didn’t say: it’s amazing! it’s psychedelic!
that would be untrue... he chose neutrality...
like me... i thought i lost a poem, i saved it with ctrl c...
and i get pavlov’s reward with a memory:
i’m buying beer in a turkish shop,
i start chatting to a boy ~10...
i tell him my childhood secret
about how i thought animals couldn’t see in the realm of 2d...
given that no cat or dog ever watches the t.v.,
mindful of sleep / mindful of the owner...
cat: i missed an hour in the sloths physiology, go away!
dog: i really need to ****! i really need to ****! get me
a tree quick or it’s going to be your leg getting soaked! soppy miu miu **.
god... adele’s hello single... if i had to mine for salt
i'd check the dog’s ******* first.
boy from the turkish shop - when you grow up
and are still interested in my game from youth:
about how animals don’t see in 2d -
i hope... i hope... i hope they still don’t.

poets’ ~sadness is what feeds people’s apathy,
people feel the lack of pathology in apathy
that they sense something must be wrong,
and poets provide this ~something-is-wrong
pathology - modern computers hibernate like bears -
it’s still very basic... we’ll need more than poets
to feel like ****...
i said once: apathy creates no pathologies...
but people desire pathology to craft drama...
they despair at the celestial ingenuity of orbits...
they despair at the leo’s strenght and cancer’s recycling
to endear their characters with zodiacs...
the west is too individualistic that it divides...
take the year of the tiger in the chinese shadow of belief...
it’s hardly specifying samuel tollbridge with a confirmation
name to gimmick the tetragrammaton as the catholics do...
i don’t feel like feeding people’s apathy...
i rather enjoy my own ~sadness than feed it...
if anything i want to oppose philosophy’s testimony
that scarceness of words in poetry... unsung...
unsung with guitars pianos and harps is sad...
and the simplicity of words in songs
sung with guitars pianos and harps is profitably ‘appy...
poetry is merely what the composer wrote
in silence in that complexity of
what poetry isn’t:
what the violin had to say,
what the piano had to say,
what the concerto d-minor sounded like
in the life of john smith disillusioned with living idealism
necessarily lived...
poetry the silent background...
fruitfull in automating the lives of others... the crackling wood
of the woodwinds necessarily lived to the score /
or off the pavement of dialogue expected...
poetry not sung is less akin to music it’s true cousin...
poetry not sung becomes philosophy.

Twinkle, twinkle little star
Why are you so very far?
The brightest one in the sky,
Don't leave me and say goodbye!
The people here are oh so fake,
they make my insides hurt and ache.

Twinkle, twinkle little star
my lungs are filling up with tar
I always feel as though I'll cry,
This mask can really help me lie
when can I get a break,
they all just seem to take and take.

Twinkle, twinkle little star,
this mask is just one big scar.

Stranger than me, or too much alike
some wrangle upon toilet papers
plastic cups out of place or lost time;
peering past, another wanders on.

Tinkling wires and rainbow faces
hearing, seeing, perchance aurific speaking
the namer among ten-thousand petty things
or squinting upon the verge of time, espy a sequal.

Step by step to round the universe
or being fell-swept away in cubboards
seem or act unseemly, like or dislike
played to the order in the round, circling about.

Why so familiar these drabbed tones of ant trumpets
or wineskins grown old to leak and sputter?
Tis the wish and will, holding like ****** to the ropes
great gales n frothing nothingnes storming on.

But We, blown upon the Aether of the Soul
a great conquest of rousing dignities;
here, under nooks, behind secret doors
or bounding past, lightning speed, relay some wonder.

Shock of waking, or dulcet tones in the Alarm of life
our shadows twist, there on the lintel of private hours
our care, held through the Night kinder endearments
then danced over reeling waves for sweet inspection.

Here unalone a look, a voice and laughter ring the ears
a crying out, or trebled inward sigh, too close to trembling-
Who is this Sojourn Friend?

Perhaps our best of self combined
no more allied to faithless days nor dark an empty smiles-
strange wastes some carelessness invents to wrack the hours.

But We, no stranger to the Sojourner's faith, Are One.

How I hate the waiting game!
It is just such a pain,
Being forced to be tame
for these people who are plain.

These seeds I've planted better bloom
but a winter freeze seems to loom,
right over my head.
Am I better off dead?
Hell no, I am not weak,
and nor am I meek.
So, for now, here I will stay,
Till my turn is at play.

i wrote you a lil sumthin i hope you dont mind me reading i thought of you today , this hurt me very deeply. there once was a time i thought you'd never leave me lemme know if im wrong but lately ive been thinkin
over on how i was so ignorant, **** you had me fooled yeah i was convinced n now this achin pain inside my chest has become an old friend n i dress myself w a smile i still play pretend
in the end that may be pathetic but ******* aint it the truth youve left my heart all black and blue i got many scars to match these wounds n is it possibly to be so beautifully bruised? n i mean this pains a reminder, you were once always there n w your symphonic soul i swear you ****** cared  but even at your lowest high i want you n your corrupted mind.

n here dear ive gathered a couple questions id really like to share you dont gotta answer no you dont even have to care but baby do you think of me now and then like i think of you? i mean ive had quite a few drinks n its aboutta quarter till 2 but you see my altered brain doesnt change my subconscious truth because at the end of each day my heart keeps beating for you. but youll ash me off , again and again , no worries though i know im nothing to sweat and im just waitin for the day ill wake without you inside my head. but you know truth be told thats not how this hear works ill look into those eyes again and revisit all my hurt. n im inconclusive of which evil is worse.

people tell me each n everyday not to let this world make me small but im only 5'1 yo i was never really tall n ya'll can keep on talkin **** on my style cause your words cant steal my smile. but im always questionin how much more can i even take daddys sick of seeing tears fall off this pretty face. iv been rollin on my own feelin so out of place i got so many fears im so unsure of my fait this future image isn clear n im sorry i cant be who i was past years. im changin yeah ***** a changin so are the dreams so are the demons i know ive grown cold but ive got my ****** reasons. this ***** gotten old my filthy conscious is a constant bleedin but i guess i must accept whats been placed upon my plate you were just another phony who couldnt relate n i guess thats your luck n my ****** mistake.

it was a foolish thing but quite beautiful too. those last words left a sting yeah im pretty bruised n now im hopin that this melody will relieve some pain inside the wounds because its a tragic thing a tragedy thats what i can conclude, thats why i smoke **** so i can be elude fill these lungs with smoke hopin highs will get me through hoping somehow i can cope rolla doobie maybe 2 laugh cause lifes a ****** joke i hung my neck inside a noose. maybe ill jus ****** choke ive been pullin on them ropes. n now im spittin fire so hot haydes jottin notes i got the devil askin for tips, baby ima make it n im gonna make it big. but they tellin me to start but idk where to begin.

so many bad moments followed by worse emotions when will it end? im hightenin the doses cause **** ive given it.  just walkin thro the motions less alive n mostly dead. doors just keep on closin im hungup with my regrets n these demons wont let me forget bad intentions, their why i havent slept. countless broken promises i can never mend thats why i do what i do so i can feel closer to death.
n now youve all been askin whats up inside my head, well your not gonna like the answer your about to get. evils on my ****** conscious. its clutterin my brain that must be the reason im so inmuthafuckinsane. always ****** w bad **** n even worse people stuck inside a trip soaked in all the evils but everything i spit is venomous that ****** lethal n even if i overdose ima cop a sequal cause im so invincible tearin up traditional principals
yaaa im so ******* illll hopefully ya'll catch this sickness
so busy making some bills
honey moneys on my wishlist
and homies know this
i always gotta sack of that purple potent
n now im on a mission lookin for that purple potion
put my mind ina wavy motion im a constant floatin.
n now my parents are makin a commotion

cierra baby just get off the ****** drugs
sorry mom im crazy yeah im really ******* nuts.
this mind is fully corrupt. the world ****** it like a ****.

From a distance we begin to spar.
Closely as if we compete hand to hand.
Near defeat, yet just getting started.
Far from tiring, although exhausted.

Stranger than you?
I beg your pardon.
Circling about feeling like prey?
My wish, thy will or vice?

High on life in this moment.
Low on patience, but dedicated.
Curious, not enough to falter.
Excited enough to seek the ever-after.

Aesthetically appealing seems your soul.
Conquests of this kind foreign.
Shaking equally, strength contained taking it’s toll.
Wake me not, enjoying the post and beam.

Positive you are in theory.
Pessimism my motto.
Half full you see life.
Half empty I accept it.

You speak of a sequal and I smile ear to ear.
Comparative framework isn’t too much.
I've found comfort in the strange sojourner.
Equally I believe in such.

Your interests contain me.
Your mind worth exploring.
Who peaked whom?
Where did this start?

I felt the look you gave and saw it completely.
Tremble not for fear is not what I wish to bring.
Combined as one our best foot forward.
Musical words as if we sing.

March 8, 2012

You destroyed movements that would have bettered my peope
As a white devil you're enslaving those who are weak minded and making it a sequal.
You took my friends away and stole all the traits that once made them bold.
You have them lying and stealing from me which overtime made my heart so cold.

Because of you its genocide in the street where people slowly **** one another
Two paths with you, you either die or go jail, the false life of getting rich is how you got my brother.
So lets sum it up that I have never messed you but some how by taking away family and friends you took away a piece of me.
I just pray that the black plague you are will just be removed from the world starting with these streets.

In my daily life
I consumed so many pills
to ease my troubles
I'm frozen as I remained still.

~It isn't enough

In the middle of
my dose,
Lord you were there
when I needed you the most
because of you
my mood is not so cold
everyday you always
remind me I'm never alone.

He set the rain
to my fire
whenever I lack love
or even desire
He was there
as my protector
when my mind
wasn't sheltered.

When people
don't find me equal
Lord uplift my story
and enhance my sequal.

He's love
He's my will
He's better
than a happy pill.

It's time, it's time
For my second rhyme
About that irish I wrote about that time

It got the loves
And made the trend
All about my little Irish friend

So here it is
The sequal, part two
Just for you young lauren...zoo

What can I say
She's the bestest by far
But don't you worry your not on my gaydar

Wireland she lives
The place of much fun
And sometimes the ***** goes straight for the lung

I like to say
We've grown thought the years
Through all the hopes, dreams and maybe some fears

I don't no what,
Where, when or who
I would be without knowing a you

So laurenzo
My dear, my wireland better half
Il never chase you with a hanger for a laugh


So that be it
The number two
I'm all out of rhymes for part two for you

But don't forget
I love a you
I really really really ...do

:)

***

a 1992 film? **** me, what could it be?
oh wait, i know...
         white men can't jump...
they should have a sequal to that ****...
titled,          black men can't swim...
or at least give them a slot
in the para-olympics.             *******!
how about you jump into a jacuzzi
with a bunch of japanese macaques,
and take baby steps... like... treading water...
white boy over here,
can float in a swimming pool,
   fully extended, lying down...
like a full-fat piece of ****.
   i ****-as-hell someone has the ***** to make
a film, entitled      black men can't swim;
**** just sinks... or belongs with
the para-olympians from kazahstan
with... hopefully     two legs, and one arm;
yes! yes! it would be ****** to compete
with an anchor's worth of torso, and no limbs.
well... they can run... for sure...
all the excess ******* endowment the white
girl like to exploint for one night stands...
   well... a massive buttocks as shown by
black girls... **** me... that'll get you
sprinting, up to the speed, of a cheetah!
you really need buttock fat to move
those legs like that...
        wait wait... why are all the kenyans
and ethiopans, the anorexics of the black
species?
every time i watch them at the olympics
i'm starting to imagine the holocaust,
cocentration camps, jews, picking up pebbles
and rocks, and saying:
    this ought to be a coin (pebble) and this
out to be a banknote (rock)...
       i'd love to write something on l.s.d.,
but this is already equivalent to l.s.d.
        big ***, big ****...
                                           run forest! run!
fair enough for the trans-ethnic one-night
stands... if i could do it with a black girl with a tiny
***... a white girl can do it with
   a massive elephant trunk...
i'm not bothered... i got my ***...
                                 &... my sense of humour.