Like the rotating gears of an inner machine,

She changes even by staying in the same spot,

Patiently moving, to the rhythm of her set nature,

Ignoring the outside noises.



Like the loud tolling of a bell,

They sway to the inner strings,

A repeated constant noise to a humdrum existence,

A shiny exterior to a loud existence



Like the pipes that carry fluids,

He sits there and lets all of them pass,

Maintaining an inner path and an outer protection,

A crazy network of rusted metal, inside and outside.


They all sat there with their roles,

Predetermined and within routines,

Arranged to never go in disarray,

Programmed to function and never question.


Some of us do. Some of us realize it and break.

Some of us manage. Some of us sit here and write this.

Some of us, are still stuck in that factory.

he gives me butterflies the size of pterodactyls.
he makes me feel as if my name is safe within his lungs.
I don't know how to explain it, but there's something about him.
how cliche, I know.
but I love the way he breathes.
the way he holds his cigarette.

it didn't scare me when he told me he loved me after barely 3 weeks.
he was 16 drinks in, babbling, slurring.
but when he said it, he spoke so clearly.
sober thoughts.

I've never seen someone look at me like they've been waiting for me their whole life.

but his eyes have a certain innocence in them, and he can't hide from it.

his laughter whispers love letters.
the wind picks up his scent.

just how crazy young love can be.

somehow, I wish he were my first.
I wish I had never had feelings for anyone else,
because I have wasted feelings on other men when he deserves all of it.
all of me.

when I die, I want them I dust off my heart.
and only find his fingerprints.

Intro:
Welcome to the new age of spit’n
to change the flavor of mix’n
where MCs are kick’n provocative rhymes
to stretch the imagination of open minds
no need for weapons, blood, and tumbl’n
we’re gonna educate and stimulate rumbl’n

Spit’n Philosophically Aware Rhymes
for the New millennium, that’s SPAR’N
elevating the level of rap’n hip-hop beats
to achieve new heights, to accomplish new feats
to teach the youth a brand new way of feel’n
to preach in the streets a new way of deal’n

Poet’s Verses:**
I’m a warrior for the new age of spit’n
flatlin’n a verse like F’n-stein to do my bid’n
tired of listen’n to the violence and the ****’n
rather kick a message for tolerance to the liv’n
better to be rich in center than material possessions
’cause fear and greed foster the need for man’s weapons

Don’t have a saint, a preacher, or a teacher’s hand
just a person on edge, trying to survive in this here land
to pass along to others the meaning of liquid wisdom
that can’t be learned in some classroom using ‘isms
so listen up my brothas, listen up my sistas
the words ya hear’n gonna blow ya away like twistas

Each of us is composed of molecules, atoms, magnetic forces
revolving around one another, following predefined courses
at this level, ya couldn’t even tell the difference
yet we judging the casing that gives us false appearance
if ya think intelligence is inherited by yur parents
then a child of the slums and ghettos has no merits

Be a product no longer of sins numbered by seven
take back yur destiny and life by search’n the heavens
for in the cradle of His arms, true luv awaits
if yur will’n to give a commitment of faith
pain and suffering may be the unwanted test
but don’t give up, ’cause ya not alone on this quest

Luv is more than just words, feel’n, and thoughts
and goes beyond ***, roses, and diamonds bought
real luv is a state of mind, a state of being
when yur together or when yur off somewhere leaving
like the spiritual reality shared between Eve and Adam
something only a true heart could really fathom

Everyone on this here planet has some mean’n
with the gospel hav’n so many people feen’n
if ya feel’n alone, lost and discouraged
this verse is my way of giv’n ya courage
for at night, I pray to the Lord yur soul to keep
sincere in the wish for no more pain or causes to weep.

let me first say, i have absolutely no idea what i'm doing
and i don't really know what this is or where to start.

i am comprised of scratched porcelain and bad dreams -
made up entirely of half-hearted attempts at sanity,
countless unspoken "i need you's",
and ever-faltering faith in myself and those around me.

i am not a poet, or at least not a good one, i don't think.
i feel a lot of things, sometimes all at once -
other times i don't feel anything at all, which scares me beyond
a level of which i am capable of explaining to you.

i nearly jumped in front of a train in april of this year. i don't know why.
my feet ventured toward the platform before it had even registered
in my head that they were doing so. i heard my best friend speak my name,
and snapped out of the trance. not a lot of people know about that.

i've been in love a lot of times with a lot of different people.
i have a fear off falling but a tendency to jump from high places.
i don't read books as much as i used to, but i'm working on that.
i'm in love right now and it's really difficult but it's nice. i'm happy.

i grew up with five brothers, so i like to think that made me sort of tough.
(but i cry every time i see a deer or a possum on the side of the road.)
i don't smoke cigarettes anymore, partly because my father hates them,
partly because they remind me too much of someone who liked them more than he liked me.

i write a lot about people who i don't talk to or see anymore. they don't live in my heart,
but the curse of memory is more often than not unbreakable. i call it leftover poetry.
then again i don't consider any of my pitiful mutterings to be poetry. just a bunch of
raggedly strung together words that sometimes rhyme a little bit.

i used to want to die and i wrote a song about it that a lot of people really liked.
i don't want to die anymore. i will never show that song to my mother.
i am much more content with watching people talk than actually talking myself.
this piece of writing feels too personal and i don't think i like it, but i'm pretty sure
Eleanor Roosevelt said something about doing one thing every day that scares you.

m.f.

It's been a dance, a long and lovely dance
Sparked by innocence across a thousand miles
And as the weeks went by there grew a knowing
We found our dancing legs and friendship turned to fire
I held you tight in my dreams each night
And we realized that there was more to come

It's been a dance, I moved a thousand miles
We shared a little bed, a rental house, and wide-eyed smiles
And then our son arrived, a blended family
With joys and challenges
Love and insecurities
But I held you tight in my arms each night
We'd greet the dawn, your head upon my heart

It's been a dance, sacred and holy
Fractured and lonely, for in time we lost our way
I would reach out to you, and you'd reach out to me
But our timing slipped as life got in the way
Then I hurt you so, and you hurt me so
And the pain drove us both down to our knees

It's been a dance, now comes the best part
We grew our wings again, remembered how to fly
Was it a miracle, or just unstoppable
Baptized by fire, anointed from on high
And I hold you tight in my arms each night
You're the closest thing to heaven that I've known

Now take my hand, the band is playing
Share this one last dance before I have to go
Kiss the kids for me, hold them tenderly
Tell them it won't be long before Dad gets back home
And I'll hold you tight in my dreams each night
You'll be the face that I see when I awake
The dance goes on and on
You will wait for me, I'll return to you
The dance goes on and on
I am home to you, you are home to me
The dance goes on

When your words cease nightly,
I lose sleep craving them.

I curse daily
I curse hourly
I curse minutely
I curse secondly.

I curse, to unleash the anger that resides me
I curse, to answer their inquiries
I curse, to flood the barriers of anxiety
I curse, to liberate the love inside me

I have found the friend to echo my sentimentality!