Excuse me, have you seen my people?
They don’t all look like me or talk like me,
But when you see them you’ll know.
Because you know me.

Well, yes actually, I have lost something! My purpose.
It was here a minute ago with me on the dance floor; and then I seem to have misplaced it…
I guess I could retrace my steps but that sounds quite boring, even painful in places. Do you have any other advice for finding it?

Sorry! Didn’t see you there, I was too concentrated  on trying to figure out the source of my happiness. I’ve heard it comes from within, but I’ve only been taught how to look outwards…
Do you know? The outside can get ever so distracting with all these pressures and changes.

Hiya guys! I think I’ve found my personality, how are you?
Yes well, I was going to ask you actually if you thought I should change it… everybody needs an upgrade these days. Do you have any ideas?

Oh ****! I’ve only just clocked myself in the mirror! How long have I been looking like that much of a misfitted ***?!!

How to describe that moment when we wake at last?
Tentatively emerging from the comfortable cocoon of that early, endless summer
****** into a cold, vibrant land, full of beauty and pain
Equipped with a newfound vigor but fueled by our disillusionment

Here, in the infancy of our societal influence
Fresh off a restful bout of childhood ignorance
We take aim to preserve that magic, for as long as we can
We dance in the summer rain, so it might not fade away…

But when do we lose focus?
When do we become,
The target of long lost laughter,
relenting to the forces of absurdity?

Perhaps when our world comes crashing down
With the weight of a thousand suns
When purity falls prey to the stalking darkness
That lives in the darkened mire

We’re all lost souls in this garden world
As our sanity stumbles with each passing season
From a fleeting glimpse at beauty in the warmth of the spring
to our frozen heart from winter’s endless pain

What is it we really want then?
As we wake up dreaming of a peaceful life,
of blue skies, and free-flowing thoughts
in the warm embrace of a sun-kissed day

But out of darkness, fear does grow
Those memories seem so far away.
Saddled with willing acts of complacency
We trudge on, immune to our nagging decency

For as we stand on the edge of the abyss
Faced by the power of the absurd
We can’t help but look down
Into the unrelenting grimace of finality

Can we recapture, moments lost, memories fallen
from the hardened heart of our war-torn soul?
For deep inside, perhaps we’ll find
A glimpse at a forgotten past

Might we gather one last breath,
A passing whiff of that summer day
So long ago, when we dreamt of a greater purpose and when magic
Enveloped our reality with the warm embrace of mystery and intrigue

Might we realize then that pain makes beauty?
And as we stand on the edge of the abyss
Trading a summer daydream
For a midnight reverie

We take a step back…

mediocrity
be the judge of me
and see if I give a ****
I know how hard I work
I know who I am
can spit in my face
and still call myself a man

at the end of the day, i stared at the teabag
that i scooped out from the ***.
wet and sloshy, its scent faded and sweetened;
it wasn't itself anymore.

without its lingering bitterness
without its verdant hues,
or its unique aromas that they fancied,
it could never be who it was.  

the used teabag, now that its purpose was served,
is no longer wanted.
was it fulfilled by the amount of tea it gives,
or was it emptied?

To be,
Or not to be

Without you,
Will there even be the idea of me?
Everything surrounds
scream blue

Your tenderness
Your messages
Your cassettes
Without your eyes,
I don’t think I can breathe

Does this heart of mine
get the right to remain silent?
Or can it beat, only for you?

To be,
Or not to be

Without you,
There wouldn’t be me

85 degrees farenheit and counting -
A sweltering wave of heat.
It filled and fogged my mind,
As I laid supine on the bathroom floor.
I stared at the ceiling and wondered if
god still loved ***** sinners.
I then questioned if whether he did or not
Even mattered at all.

I had tied myself up in straps,
Just to forget my body for a little while.
I had spat in the face of celibacy,
Only to find that the face was my own.
Looking back at that face, I contemplated on
Just how dastardly my actions supposedly were.
Reaching in my chest, I shifted and searched,
Trying to find the sin...
But nothing surfaced.

i am the universe
come alive, come conscious,
and what is sentience but
a mystery living at the base
of all that we can ever be?
what a strange dichotomy,
how insignificant, and yet
spectacular! inconceivable beauty.
my life is a verse in the cosmic poetry
constructed out of explosive nothing,
a vast vacuum littered with
unknowable everythings.
what to me is familiar idiosyncrasy,
the everyday routine of my wakings
was arbitrarily designed by some intricate,
equation unsolvable, navier-stokes
nothing compared to the machinations
of the minute turbulent eddies
from the swirling currents in my bloodstream
to the patterns formed by astronomical dances
debris and space dust.
so how is it then that in my miniature
dollhouse of a life, am i languished?
i look up through the pollution,
through the night sky, and think
of how much i long to simply bask
in the beautiful artistic whimsy
the universe has let me into,
to embark on the philosophical,
the insurmountable task to uncover
the myriad of deep secrets locked now
for i am the universe come conscious.

sometimes I think
if I can't have it all then
let me go back
but back so far nothing can hurt
right off the plane of existence

What is there left, when humanity can no longer ensue? When our kind is wiped off the face of Mother Earth? Will the planet be destroyed itself from the sun, or from our own foolish actions? Or will the earth instead remain with our souls tied to it as we wander aimlessly, our ashes permeating within the dirt? How many places will our souls be within? Heaven and earth together? Will the animals be with us in spirit or in a different realm? Will a new kind be brought forth, or perhaps a new planet?