Tell me,
Who are we to judge?
To sit upon our thrones
And tell people yes, or no.
What's the point?
I'd really like to know...

A beautiful smile becomes a fierce grin
Spewing  a vicious set of insults
For all I’ve done
And all you care
My best of intentions
Your most effective kind of indifference
I’m sick and tired of your bored look
Yet still I revisit and revive
For old time’s sake
Hoping each and every time
Things will be turned around

Put aside your viciousness
And instead of taking everything for granted
Grant me a bit gratefulness
Hard-earned thankfulness
And a bit of earnestness
I’m sick and tired of your tired look
As if my efforts to revisit and revive
Is useless nostalgia
And my hope that things will be turned around
Desperate stupidity

A poet and a poet meet in a café
Striking up a conversation
About everything and nothing
About love and lost love
About the dark side of the moon
And the nurturing side of childhood memories
About that one time they were both at a hapless poetry event
And about mirrors and magic and moonlight
And mice and men, terrible men
And about women, gentle, dangerous creatures
Who broke their hearts in many pieces
And how they turn innocent boys
Into almighty, all-knowing poets
They talk about their ego
An ego that has become huge
Despite the fact they are not read
And don’t make any money
They talk and talk and banter
And slander and meander
Verbally that is
Until they’re lost for words
And the secret code of life is cracked

The first time I visited the freak show
I nearly burst into tears
It wasn’t because of the cruelty of it all
It wasn’t because of their cruel deformities
It wasn’t even guilt, not even a bit
It wasn’t about the greed from the stupid ***
Who ran the freak show

I burst into tears because I immediately understood
That the roles were reversed
And that we were the freaks
We, the cowards, who hide our deformities
And denounce our guilt as useless morality
And clutch onto greed and a hunger for entertainment
While every day we ourselves star in the freak’s parade

And the freaks themselves they are not moved
By my dreaded revelations
For them the truth was always pure and simple
Bonded by their deformities
They understand kinship and compassion
As they clutch on to each other
And the parade of freaks moves past them once more

I used to think that fish
In little bowls and aquariums
Were pitiful prisoners of men
Deprived of freedom
Defined by frontiers
Hindered by limits

But now I know that fish
Might be happy in their prisons
Able to explore all there is to see
While humans keep on getting lost
In their prison of infinite possibilities

-I am the silent observer
The shadow that nobody sees
The snake in the grass that lies in wait
The hushed voice that plants the seed

-I will lead you to think you are worthy
A gem that cannot be compared
I will raise you enough to achieve my goals
In the end leaving waste and despair

-Opportunist,  a name I've been blessed with
Manipulation, a tool of the trade
Your misfortune a road I will claim as my own
As well as your will,  I'm afraid

-For you see,  I'm your own human nature
The envy that you cannot control
The hunter that roams for advancement and gold
Yes,  I am the truth of your soul

The trees only grow with the sun and the rain
Then people with the happiness and pain.

The leaves endure the heat and the storm
Some people have both and that's their norm

The bark grows but can always crack
It happens to us so much we have tracks

The branches are strong but not always true
Sadly the same can be said for me and you

I do not want peace
Peace allots for too much time to think
I do not wish for wisdom
I have been trapped inside my head for far, far too long
I do not seek joy
It is fleeting and insubstantial
I do not require hope
I have plenty to spare, thank you

What I crave in the depths of my being is chaos
What I desire is life lived fully
I want to dance upon the rims of volcanoes
I wish for thunderstorms
Crashing upon my bare feet
I seek sunlight peeking through greenly leaves
I require adventure and extraordinary ordinaries
                 I want to breathe

Man has always been drawn to the ocean.
Drawn to lose himself in the
            vastness
Only to be pulled back to shore
Back to the mediocrity
To bake the moment of clarity
He found in the crashing of the waves
From his skin as it reddens in shame.

we lie awake
we lie when wake
we lie and wait
and then abate