A hand scribbles violently.
The pen carving through the lined paper.
Black Ink spilling out of the deep cuts,
Soaking into the pristine page.
Words blocking out the light,
By illuminating knowledge.
Strong, scared, and weary hands fight.
Sometimes writing poetry feels like you're getting ready to go into battle.
Apathetic to your positivity.


We keep on running, because we can’t stand still.
We keep on climbing, because we have got to get up the hill.
We keep on searching for a better thrill.
We are humans and we strive to advance, using all of our will.


Forward we march, dragging the weaker man with us.
Onward we go, for the good of our health.
Drop and give me twenty one-handed push-ups;
I am too lazy to evolve, so keep your thoughts to yourself.


You can advance the entire human race
And you have my full support.
As long as that doesn’t require anything from me.


I will not hinder your quest to find out more,
But I cannot bring myself to need anything but peace
And a place to be alone without your positivity.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I say the wrong thing


I truly appreciate the words, but there are never enough.
There are never enough words; there are never enough.
My body aches for understanding,
But I have no knowledge of so much stuff.
You get what you give out, so I deserve nothing less.
You get what you put into it,
So take what you need to find from inside my head.


You do things you like, but I won’t do that.
I would give you my opinion, if I could only take it back.
If I read what you write and it is something I like,
You might find something in my words,
That just does not sound right.


I have no foresight, just a vague idea.
I am just a fool, so misunderstood, so never too clear.
I can write, but I cannot speak.
I know you hear, but my intentions you cannot see.
Every screaming piece of me, is only shouting out for peace!


I cannot meet your expectations,
Nor can I quote the Romantics.
I cannot know just what you want from me;
I can only give you, all of this.
Every single part of me, I throw this down at your feet
And all I ask is that you please understand that I come in peace.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Without creativity we lose the flame.

Without sincerity we lose the humane.

Without poetry we forget past pain.

Without pain we never gain.

Without knowledge we only remain, and never break from restrain.

With growth we finally free the brain.
It’s a delight to know the fear,
providing a loss of life. With
only the moon that wears
feathers from phoenix. Gold
drippings and arch of eternity.
Rebirth not from water, but of
soul selling to herself, in
innovation and originality. As
the others emulate. Starlight
allure, speaking languages
with humanities musings.
Waking the dead world, dropping
men to their knees as their
boyish behavior is pulled to the
front. Relinquishment of dogma,
as we all enter a new age.
As chanting songs in homage
to her. As no more tears to cry,
to what she avoided in the first
place, is attention from others,
pushing away romantic gestures,
conversing conversations, a
standard practice of life’s narrative.
Many need liquor
To be sicker
But go figure
I can get it without a flicker
Y’all get dripped up
Then hiccup
I get lit with a tit
Short for title because books
Have no rivals
Knowledge ensures progression
Just heed the lesson
And receive my vocabulary blessing
Or keep loosing Jeff sessions
_

prowling
the nocturnal neon zoo
groin deep in humankind

suckling life's sweet underbelly

swilling full
the luscious flesh festival

seduced
by the siren song
of sacred sensuality

I am a night being

stalking
dangerous

I am a sentient being

disillusioned
seeking

my fingers burn
from dancing
with the fire-whores of
angst
and indignation

I come
in a rolling glorious fire

fast and hard
tough as hell

cresting
and crashing in
howling mad
to scorch the night

dancing
with every devil I can find

ranting
raving
blazing

a combusting carnal fireball

fierce appetite

roaring hungry
for life's deliciousness

longing to consume
every succulent morsel and crumb
of passion
desire
knowledge

pursuing truth

ferociously

_


rob kistner © 2007
contemplation on living life full throttle eyes wide open
Jabin 4d
I'm sorry, all
for getting angry.
My vision blurs.
My sight recedes.
I think I'm right.
The same old song.
My heart is right;
My love is wrong.

Can you comprehend
the pain I must feel
to see through my own disguise?
How can I let go
when the things that I know
got me here, with you?

Last night, the moon broke orbit.
Back and forth it wavered.
It seemed to be drawing closer-
I faced imminent obliteration.
But I recalled from my study of
ASTRONOMY
just how unlikely it was.
And just like that,
the moon snapped back into place.

I was born right.
But loved wrong.
Wealth without work,
Is a soda bottle without a cork.
Politics without  principle,
Is a soiled rag searching for a cleanser (truth).
Pleasure without conscience,
Is a pipe without a faucet,
Drowns the world  into chaos.
Knowledge without character,
Is like giving a high powered sports car to a teenager on drugs.
Business without ethics,
Is an empty portfolio that has no value.
Religion without sacrifice,
Is not converting prayers into lifestyles,
With fear of God,
Love of God,
And HIS appreciation.
Science without humanity,
Is only more technology without human advancement.
Aa Harvey Jun 14
It doesn’t matter.


Falling from the sky like a meteorite.
I’m losing sight of what might have been,
Because it has never been seen.
I have never had focus, because I never had to look,
For my inspiration, it rains down upon me;
So quick to admit defeat, so I throw away my books.
When I should be more promising,
No promise is kept,
Just swept aside and forgotten;
Until eventually I will have nothing left.


On a course towards love, it is my destined reality,
So I am waiting for a change of fortune;
I’m still waiting on reality.
No pop up picture book ideals, to be seen within my dreams;
Just reality biting me, it sinks its teeth in deep.
So no hope can I search for,
Because I know there is no cure,
For the lack of wishes I am granted;
Feet firmly planted, outside opportunities door.


No advance, no way;
Never been paid to read a page.
Never told there is a way, I just leapt into the future,
With a blindfold over my eyes;
I let the spirits take me over to the other side.


Somebody stole my bicycle,
So I could do with a lift to the next town over;
No time to look over my shoulder.
Eyes firmly fixed on what is to come;
I have already experienced a lifelong slump.
Now the curve is getting steeper and as I climb I do rise;
One hand upon the mountain top,
One more step to take into the light.


Find a word that rhymes,
Forever search for insight.
Stay locked inside my own slide show.
A film study, a flick book;
Life is just passing on by…


Without hope there is only loss;
I lost my hope a long time ago,
But the call of love is eternal,
So I will continue to scribble inside my journal.
One day somebody will find it in the rubble
And hopefully they will say,
He never stood still.


He kept on trying,
He kept on writing;
If only they knew how much more I need to find…
Pour all of your thoughts into my head;
There is plenty of empty space that needs to be filled.
I could never give you a reason,
So please stop asking;
I wish I could, I hope you will,
Pick up a pencil, pick up a pen;
Use a keyboard or a quill.
Speak a thought just once and they may like what you write,
Or they may think,
Well that was just a complete waste of my time.


An eclipse of the mind, wrestling with a need for a tongue twister line.
I need advice every time I make a decision;
Did I say that right?
Can you see where I am going or am I just losing you with my ways?
Shall I continue to say or just fade away?
Some people use a password as the password;
If you see this as just a blur,
Then you will never see the words that I am trying to say…
Would that it were.


Smash the glass, we are in need of an alarm,
Because as I lay here dying in your loving arms,
I’m spinning riddles around my ball of yarn
And nothing makes sense to the follower of patterns;
They could never understand that is does not matter,
If any of this even matters!


All that matters is the matter at hand we sit upon,
In the evening air, under this sunset sun.
This is not a perfect picture painted purposely peculiar,
It’s just a work of art or an apprentice piece.
A doodle or a riddle, a non-logical use of the vernacular;
It is only my dreams of an exploding star,
Scattered throughout the universe…

And that is all it will ever be.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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