The rock that once balanced on the mountain
has now tumbled down and blocked the only pass,
the valley remains cut-off, unable to sustain
even prayers could not move the big stubborn mass.

When great minds converge, they carry burden of hopes,
when creativity has to come out of neccessity,
esoteric ideas amalgamate with ladders and ropes.

Sheer force was unable to move the heavy bull
the ram was dropped and chisel was chosen,
it was time to think whether destruction can be beautiful

That which cannot be moved, can be carved to perfection
suited to your need, can bloom with painstaking nurture.
The valley now has become a source of attraction
with a tall structure on pass, called a gateway to the future.

Violent roses
give me woozes everyday
I'm hammered on my own
something
is always slipping through
a filter of justifications

language misrepresents me
I don't think words that
spread ideas like intrinsic responsibility
are relavent outside of cults of personality
So I'd prefer to say
through a filter of new ideas
of what safe thoughts are in a fear house
reinterpreted

Soft violet soup
gifting a brainhorse with a two by four
or convictions falling
out of atrophy
or perhaps
a lack of neccessity

I don't know
maybe
a letting go of an abusive tack
that pressed you to let go of joy

Oh I don't knoowoh
To find yourself a damaged adult
with a mind aimed at forgetfulness and
forgivefulness

A new rage forms in tandem
with a promise
to a menacing question asked
by those who unfetttered their wallets

but that was ages ago

and now it's time for a letting go
at least that's
what the last night alone begot

but who is past that inside lie
that furthers time

well I can't see anyway

So **** it I'll lose it or die.

Lost deep wondering on what to do,

Mind drenched in thoughts of sorrow blue,

Asleep with dreams of being apart of you,

Sometimes I awake hoping my thoughts are true,

My eyes have opened, inside this dream of no fun,

Nightmares I say, seems as if they’ll never be done,

My desires betray, Reality comes in to play, the sun goes down,

I take this day, thinking everything through, and first comes you,

I think about others too, but first I think of you,

Sometimes dreams can mis-lead,

Wishing it to be real but no matter what you do its fake,

It feeds your head so much, yourself you mis-treat,

Sometimes happiness is just not yours to take,

sometimes you must show love, and happiness is yours to make,

Sometimes you have to follow your dreams outside the dream world,

To seek, to fly like a dove, to show affect,

I need nothing but her, to speak, to love, to protect,

The word right…to treat, to show, to prove my love is…

You must see it through your head that you love through mind before heart,

You must understand that you are mine before we part,

A guy wanting a girl, isnt always a desire,

sometimes its more than just a fire, sometimes you mean the world,

Me and you we arent just another ordinary boy or girl,

We see things that others cant and dont understand,

By mind you're a women and im a man,

Getting married should be the second of the plan,

First comes falling in love, and me having in my hands,

Not just another girl, but some one that makes me feel like im holding the world.

I am not thinking of me wanting you as a obsessity this is not the plight,

Im seeing,thinking, and feeling as if you are a neccessity to my life.

You cling to me.
You cling to me.
You cling,
And you cling,
And you cling.
LINGER...

You cling to me.
And I to you,
And I to you,
And I to you.

But at the opening credits of another white dawn,
I must bow down to the system,
RISE,
And curtsey to conformity.

It's the heaviest regret of my day; leaving you.
IRON.
Before the day has even begun; leaving you.
LEAD.

And when I do,
I forget the slopes and hills of your face.
How they rise and fall,
As we disremember a perfect dream.
I step out into the clutch of bitter airs,
Eyes down, catching the ice's gleam.
The glazed pavement plummets,
So I glide to follow it's dip,
But my hazed movement's done its
Best to make me slip...

And this is something now.
Heaven, heaven sent.
This is what this is now.
Formality's been bent.
And so I'll try to always
Let you know just what I meant.
But before I spill my guts out,
These butterflies must ferment.

A step back

Languish,
Drink,
Lament.

For my words come best post all of this,
And I sense a hovering dent.
(Confusion incoming)
To dent this sacred framework
Of fearlessness, excitement and neccessity.
Thumping intensity.
Then you comfort me like a child.

And the needle has been threaded,
But I've always feared the sewing.
I'm such a child in your arms,
Oh where is this going?
No, no, no.
No way of knowing.

SCRUB...
Paint chips off the wall,
The bath has run too deep,
But I welcome the confusion
That in my mind you keep.
For everybody knows
That what you sow, you reap.
So when I see that smile again,
Tangled brain-vines will weep.

I'm thinking....
I'm thinking too much.
I'm drinking too much.
Parallel lines: the worst and the best.
And it's the heaviest regret of my day; leaving you.
Protest,
Protest.


December 2010

There is no such thing as freedom because you can play God
because he only pretends to sit in his sofa castle
laughing at your foolishness
eating your baby noodles

Anyone can play this game but I won't stand for it
because spilling their guts makes it criminal
because it makes me liberal
like it's all okay

Their cynical smirks and superior rationale
burn me alive into a ******* Charleston
I curse them all and **** them all
and I am ****** for it

Words of evil percieved only as evil by the weak
because killing and ****** is a neccessity
a demand for destiny which the world stages
it's freedom for all but the just

I know I know nothing unlike all the other pigs
they can cheer and chortle because they're boxed in their world
epileptic to my hare-ful truth that means nothing
because I am an ignoramus who is free

To the glamour dressed diesel alcoholic
to the giraffe-wearing radicalist
to the artistocratic plum-picking *******
to the uneducated, ****-smoking secretary
to the briefless, cold-handed ******
to the green-spiked punk with a polarized attitude
to the one who sent nukes overseas to G**bless other countries
I pity your concealment; your pathetic, two-dimensional box

For I know nothing, so when you find me
Sit me down, and shoot me in the ******* head
Because you wish you had nothing like me

So find me and burn me on the stake
Huff the audacity my smoking flesh omits
Breed your Reptilian filth over my dead body

he climbs aboard the bus
denying all offers of help


he rides most every day i do
he due to neccessity,
me more of a luxury,
the luxury being i can take part in
long, lightly alcohol, lubricated lunch discussions,
after  teaching class and then not having to decide
whether to drive or bus.

he is old, so very old,
each movement is both precise
and yet wavering, as he makes his way to his seat
then, as he thuds down,the bus moves off again

he rests awkwardly, the slight corkscrew in his spine
causes him to perch, more than sit,
the calves in his legs flexing constantly,
making adjustments, so he remains balanced
ever on the precipice...

yet he smiles, a wide toothy
grin, as he acknowledges
the crowd, most by name...
for that alone, he is a legend.

he is dressed in khaki shorts
double pocketed shirt,
one pocket for pens
and one for the pipe
that even unlit,
has an odour though not unpleasant,
it is slightly oppressive.

and across his chest the wide band
of the old leather satchel he carries,
often filled with books on a myriad of subjects
but sometimes empty bar an old thermos

he is the universities oldest student,
old enough to be father and grandfather
to those who teach him.
he has multiple degrees and a love of learning
yet to be assuaged, he loves the gathering of knowledge
the ****** and parry of intellectual debate

he is known as Mr Proffessor
and often has a group of his younger peers
set about him as he leads younger minds
down the oft convuluted paths of learning

but today he is an old man, on the bus.
trying to maintain his balance...
and I admire his style

Leaving you was never my choice.
It was a neccessity.

As time goes by the world is in constant change. Such is also seen in the voices of our children and in our lives and affecting our fortunes. Trust in a relationship comes by faith theough love of understanding. Patience is a virtue and neccessity. Kindness and the willingness to adapt to the ever changing tides in the human enviroment. Both heart and soul is lost like a ship at sea without understanding it is tossed by storm after storm. The faithful stay the lines and continue to say-all. Destiny would have it say the wind steers the ship but the captain weathers the storm and guides the ship through the stormy seas. The rain is blown in like cool refreshing water to be sure the captain stays alert to save the crew. A successful relationship is said to be based on trust. However, trust is not found without faith but through faith. Faith for faith as it has now been said begins a successful marriage. Just as the crew must trust the captain, the captain must also trust the crew. Vanity leads to both destruction of captain amd crew. Just as a captain must be skilled, so must the crew also be skilled. The husband is like a captain to where the wife is like the crew because this is where our children first arrive and strive to be. Lessons in life may be tough but just as children deserve second chances so do our relationships like captain and crew setting an example for our children. Who can say love is without envy? Love is the desire of the heart and a captain knows best what is to be desired in the mind. Like salt and pepper so is the inter-twining of love righteously seasoned. Thus the salt from the see and the pepper from the ground keeps captain amd crew informed for the children in families that without it would no longer be. There may be a sun and a moon or even earth and sky but nothing is nothing if love exists not in the eyes of the child. The heart that devours then devours itself. The heart that devours only devours nations upon nations. Love is the timeless gift of life and en-sures a future in a place throughout time and space without it all things would cease to exist. Explore with only love's understanding.

The wildest thing about flowers is how unconventionally strong they are. Think about it...some flowers bloom under the harshest of conditions.

When they're beaten and battered by life and the odds are arguably against them, some flowers find a way to bloom through the cracks in the sidewalk.

If a flower can survive amongst the chaos of a crowded street, think of it's potential in the midst of a cultivated field. Where love and encouragement flow freely and days are spent growing a future and not just dodging the blows of footsteps threatening to squash them from all directions.

Towering above the rest in the field, one singular sunflower stands alone. Stronger than the rest, built out of neccessity and self preservation, a tough exterior because she has had to have one.

And sure, the sunflower has grown on her own for years, done well enough surviving, not quite thriving, the yellows of her petals not quite as vibrant as they could be because so much nutrients has been ****** away by the weeds clinging to her from below.

She needs not a savior but wants nothing more than someone to take the time to stop and appreciate her strength. The phrase "stop and smell the roses" has never made much sense to me until now.

We all admire flowers for their surface value, for their beauty, for what they can offer us immediately. How have we forgotten over the years that flowers provide the very oxygen that we breath? That in addition to their beautiful exterior, they're also the backbones of what makes us who we are?

So no, I do not have a green thumb and have not a clue how to cultivate a future but I do know I'd walk through a field for miles, clearing debris if it meant you got to spread your roots a little further, soak in a little more sun, and feel a little bit stronger.

Because anyone can admire a sunflower's beauty, but the real work begins when you long to spread your roots and cultivate a whole field.

While beautiful indeed, one sunflower on it's own is no match for a windy day...but a field with stakes in the ground and love in the soil is a force to be reckoned with.

Your cheeks blossom like a cherry
Those make my eyes merry
Your smile is sweet as berry
Butterflies rejoice in my belly

You are my sunshine, my dear
A gift of God from above
All smiles and thanks from me here
For giving me you, my love

Your love is my wealth
A neccessity to my health
The joy i have felt
Made my heart melt

As time goes by, the sun sets.
As low and low as it gets the light bids farewell.
Darkness appears
Then you slowly fade.

Goodbyes aren’t forever
But only a “so long”
I wish you life that is better
And a heart that is strong