Exquisite..Unique become what you seek
What is complete? How deep is the deep?
Experience the moment..It's you..Own it!
Fractals..Vibrations I'm just one component
These words of love shoot from my soul
Penetrates..fills all hatreds holes
Power in my rhymes Shaman twisting time
Read you by sign put you in these lines
I can see all the mental smoke
Instigator here to stab and poke
Give my all till I'm broke
All my passion hits in one big stroke
My vibe comes alive in every word it survives
If we elevate each other we all will thrive
You there asleep come alive
Far too long we have all been denied
Vibrate till I turn to dust
Never taste the center eat my crust
In rhymes I trust..so full I bust
Flow so fluid I'll never rust
Now I can be flashy..tell a tale
Not a one hundred percent sometimes I fail
Pierce my heart with a rusty nail
Darkness takes over but love prevails
Imagination stretch..memorize every turn  
Set fire to your mind feel the burn
Knowledge from pain is how we learn
Balance will reward you with what you earn
Wisdom doesn't flow from all that speak
Truths are hidden which is why we seek
We all must climb to reach your peak
Creates who we are..Exquisite...Unique!!

"What is your aim in Philosophy?”

“To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle”
(Philosophical Investigations) – Wittgenstein
--------------------
Tell them that I lived as long as I could,
then I died, thinking this was all new to me.

If they line up at the portal from then to now,
tell them to remember, any fly can find its way.

Go on, thinking that said it all.
Go on, knowing it said nothing new now.

The way into the bottle is the way out,
flies all know that naturally…
kitchen windows, though,
those can cause fly insanity.

O Lord, I am thy workmanship;
     And shall the *** of clay
     Unto the potter say,
Dash me to dust, for I've a chip?
                              Nay.

Perhaps the potter uses scraps
     For purposes the ***
     Would likely like a lot
If he but knew.  Perhaps.  Perhaps
                              Not.

He embraced me and squeezed
as if I was his lifeline.
The thorns dug through my skin,
spilling blood.
I twisted in pain,
trying to wrench myself free,
but succeeded only in digging the thorns in more deeply.

I know, with absolute certainty,
that if I drowned,
****** under
by the relentless power of the sea,
you would not hesitate
fighting nature to save me.

The depth of his heart,
like a book shrouded in
mysticism,
wonder,
anticipation.
I flip through the pages,
until my eyes grow tired,
and my hand aches.  
The end nowhere in sight.
Whenever I almost put the book down,
I get a tiny insight into his heart.
Playing me like a fool into
short-term satisfaction,
and long-term despair.