I create a dream and then lose myself into it.

My whole self.

I create the biggest most soothing dream that I could ever imagine; all of my wants and all of my current needs I put into it.

I invest all of my life energies into the dream and then I crush it.

I really mean that I crush it.

It gets scattered into millions of pieces of stardust and meteorites sprinkled among the mountains and dales of the galaxies and beyond.

Nothing fails as nothing is started. I am nothing. I become nothing and I stay as nothing until a new dream appears and the process is repeated once again. It expands and shrinks as it blinks back at me.

"It is all a big joke August."

I can hear the voices of the gods.

It is all the mystical nature of it all.

This poem was supposed to my outlet
On a day that’s been going like ****
Why is it then that I can’t hit
That sweet spot and just
******* LOSE IT

No, my mind is like a house.
Not just walls surrounding me,
But with roof and basement.
I kept throwing words into the basement.
Sorrows packed along with anger.
All down there.

The more i kept locked,
The less i worry and lived on.
Slowly the words crept through the floors.
But i didn't get rid of it,
Just moved myself to upstairs.

Those words formed itself.
Some being with all I'm scared of.
I locked myself in a room and try to be safe.
I got to admit, I'm just emotionally scared.
It kept knocking, banging on the doors ;
The walls and the floors.

It knows no stop nor do I know its weakness.
As I've never faced it before,
Never tried to learn about it.
And now it's claiming its territory.

The door slowly cracks,
Bit by bit I'm shaterred from within.
All i can hear is its voice.
Wanting to get out,
Wanting to be in control.
Until it got in.

-HIY

he is the devil
and since we were children
we were taught to aim for heaven
but i would go to hell for him

A slow rumbling
   Deep down

         F
           A
              L
                 L
                    I
                      N
                         G

Tumultuous tumbling
   Head first into the abyss.

"You deserve it."


                                                          "Sometimes I just don't feel like I do."


"Sometimes we all feel like we don't."


                                                                                                             "Yeah..."


"That's why we call them blessings."

every story has a beginning, middle and an ending.
some sad some good.
but what happens in the middle is from an angels whisper. guiding you. helping you.
you may not know it but it's there.
watching and waiting for you to ask for guidance.
and when you do need it. they will whisper it in your ear or show you how in another way.
so whatever happens you will always receive....
An Angels whisper

How Many People Would You Have To Change To Change The World?

How many people would you have to change
To change the world?  
The other day the man I love,  
One who has faith in God above.
Declared the impotence of man.
Insisted phrase by rehashed phrase:
“This world has never been so bad.
It’s getting worse and worse and worse!”
He feels so helpless. What a curse!
Has no belief in his own richness;
Can’t understand the reach
Of butterfly’s effect: the flap
Of wings in Florida
With vibes that stretch to Africa.

How does it work?

You find the thing you’re born to do.
You do it hour by hour by hour.
Work through the furor,
Take your power,
Use it, focused on the now.

There’s nothing more.

That small series called your life
Is quite enough to end all strife.
Not instantly, not right away -
For life takes time.
But yours is prime:
A mix of self-esteem
Humility and bravery,
Seeing life reflectively
With love and strength
The length of days.

How many people would you have to change
To change things?
Think of wings!

How Many People Would You have To Change To Change The World? 3.2.2018 Our Times, Our Culture II;