There is a study of some interesting production
That says that continents drift, but I disagree,
Listen if you will to my theory it's of a sort
That is of a very different decree.
In the beginning a planetoid smashed into the earth,
It would later become our moon, it was larger at first,
This matchless form of damage caused a great impact,
From which would later be whole continents birth.
The lava that flowed would be enough to make
Whole parts of Pangea sink, and huge amounts of
Ocean would poor into, eventually be. But this is my theory,
Why when the damage was done the magma flowed
So much from such areas, it formed what is now the
Colorado mountains, as well as the whole of Australia,
Japan, and the Polynese. I know this is just a theory, but I'd put
All I have into simply wanting to believe. The truth is always
Out there, and this is simply what ideas that I conceived.

I think harmony is one of those things,
that can only be determined from an internal blueprint.
Concepts emerge,
and this reasoning is extracted,
from beautiful objects and ideas.
Simply,
an idea formed,
and              framed
by                        a
grouping           of
other                ideas.

Concept: I whisper to the moon that I cannot sleep and she sends me dreams of ocean waves and whale songs

They dedicate their lives
To discovering things, being king of the hill,
So that all who notice their hypocrisy,
Their lies and deceit, their lack of principals,
Shall overlook them still, they are all about nothing
But "meat and potatoes," their means of existence,
And only pretend to be about love, honour, yet
Don't believe in the need to lose pride nor to
Go about the ways of dignity or of patience.

2015 was the year of concepts for me
Concept 1: Me in your arms
Concept 2: You never let go
Concept 3: I'm not a burden
Concept 4: I know I'm loved
Concept 5: I'm whole and nothing is missing
Concept 6: This isn't a poem and this is all true
Oh wait
Concept 7: 2016 will be ok

1; Every time I think hard about a theoretical concept, the rest of my thought processes become out of focus, like on a camera, and I find it hard to speak in regular conversation as that fades.

2; I think dark blood is beautiful, but light red looks too much like small talk.

3; As you can probably tell, people make me feel like I'm drowning in a foreign sea.

We're all crying while we slave away,
Smiling when we're free.
If only we could see the freedom
in that flash of teeth.
But only if we mean it,
Yes only of it's meant
Tell me whats the worth of worrying
You'll drown inside cement?
Now the others rest upon the middle
they get no relief
They don't wish to see the sun
Until they go to sleep
And the lookers down sit perched upon
The place that is implied
They only care to swoop if they can peck
and pick apart our lives.
All these observations made
Behind a pair of glasses
From these marblesque devices
Run by lightning seeming massless
Thinking "if only we were classless,
Careless, living off of instinct
at least we'd be so unaware
that we are reaching a brink
Where those who work away
for birds of prey
are sick of slaving days
and rise with those who wish to see the sun.
How they'll rattle the cage.