i wrote
blackout poetry
in my bible

and

i made
paper cranes
out of the ripped out pages

i did not mean to disrespect
i merely wanted to create

Boy.
You are atrocious;
You are belligerent.
You cocky thing.
You disgust me.

Boy.
You are revolting;
You are untrustworthy.
You are not deserving of my time.
You are worthless.

Don't you dare come back to me.
I won't let you in.
Don't you dare try for me.
I can't let you in.

Boy.
You are idiotic,
Chaotic,
And the least exotic.

You are flour in the kitchen.
You are dandelions blowing in the wind.
You are useless.

You're the puppet now, and
I hold the strings.

You're the bell,
And I'm the freedom that shall ring.

You are nothing if I say you're nothing.
You're something until I give you something.

I created you.
I designed you.
I gave you life.

Don't you dare make me take it away.
Because, boy, I will.

for i am a collector, seeker of beauty
appeal drools out of the pockets of my mind
death creates an entry to preserve, why must a take
this chance for granted?
for i am a collector, i take what i see,
and reform its original refinement by nature itself
a life form is only dead if one preserves it to be, taken to a frame,
it creates a form of life on its own
unable to move, unable to gaze,
but able to be wondered and admired by others
that is life, if it sparks a mind then surely
it does so within itself

i am not an artist
and i don’t know
how to paint

but if i were to take
all the shades of blue

and blend them together
they would most certainly
create a painting of you

"A grain of madness is the best of art."
Second best is a handful of heartbreak on a base of isolation with a drizzle of self-reflection.

one second is a time
to create a universe
inside our heads

Joseph is a bit of a dreamer,
you might say a wayward thinker,
but that's not the lot
of all that's he's got: -
He's the son of the great Creator.

So dreams wake up as passions,
passions bear fruit in actions
and soon you see
what only he dreamed:
God-made-man creations.