One ought admire the noble eagle
with cruel beak
and vicious talon,
whose piercing unrelenting gaze
never fails to locate meat;
whose feathered blades
  are shaped to slice
  through wind
  of carve a breeze
  with gliding grace
  -unless of course
   one is the hare.
You are the hare.
Your hare tongue begs
your hopping gods
for luck
and strength of leg
plus hiding place.

Those parts that were once holy
Only meant for those who are worthy
Those who'll live with us in honesty
Now can be accessed by anybody
Its holiness
Banished from the very realms of this world that's unworthy
Touched by those hands that are so filthy

They were children tasting sugar
For the first time
Without all the artificial layers
The raw sweetness
Making them gasp and shiver
Anticipating for more
Turning them into wild animals
Ravaging its meal
Showing their true identities
Buried in these colors

Thrown into the deep end
It was impossible to reach
Thrown into the deep end
Its something they couldn't teach
The art of survival, a fight for air
Or ignoring yet another stare
From fish insignificant but i could not foresee;
They own these oceans; its their territory
Indeed a peculiar enigma, left with no choice but to imitate
Or be stuck in an unwelcoming fate
A better status to those who dont conform
I could feel my cartilage being born
I didnt look like the rest, didnt feel like them either
Something was confusing about this prochedure
No scales, only the gills made me feel similar...
Something shining within me, so many sparks
Throw me into the deep end and i'll be swimming with the sharks.

the previous listener, who did so faintly and in a manner foreign to me, sat reasonably as I do now, or perhaps lain starry and jaded on some soft lawn riddled with the paused movements of those who watched, clouded with distraction, the life of a sweet nothing drown in descent from above as they cheered and screamed for it, for that meaningless treasure tainted by the vanity of their own desire, ignorant of the listener, of her own treasure then forming, as something warm and enduring in the seat of her chest, something to brood, to analyze, to cherish for a length, at great odds with the fleet and trivia that so dominated the struct of their noire.

but the listener had none of this, gulfed from the shaking and pressing, shielded the same from its symbol and write, opting to push for those few golden moments most certainly approaching her as the rest wraithed past, softly and shyly granting the scarcest and most shamefully starved of treelines, roadways and ballparks and wire staff, knowing but keeping that the few she would most deeply and fondly remember would be just these.

and so the listener and her lover stood past, sweeping over the artificial earths with little concern, not pausing or skipping for a moment to witness the wonder in the world around them and to soak up some indefinable fraction of its infinite offerings. from lain block to patch grass they strode, searching for their one moment, for that which so surely stood staunch and unmoving at some near point in their passage, but which always seemed to elude them, to taunt and hang and cackle in the face of their steadily growing contempt.

and then, as the crowd deserted their peaks for the safe and steady and trough, allowing those moments of elation to slip from them with ease, the listener let likewise all that was precious to her from her grasp, and fell into a similar place, one of deserted lows and recollections of the brightness that lay behind, of those very moments that felt their way independently into her heart and her soul, and left her love beside her, forever looking up into the dark.

Every job is a job
Every cake is a cake
Put on your socks
So your feet are not worn
Put on your shoes
So your socks are not torn
Lay down in bed
Think back on your day
Wake up in mourning
Think forward Today
And it’s always the same
Same old **** in a frame
So bleeding bored
But with no-one to blame
So I look in the mirror
And wrestle my hair
Sculpting an image
That could lead to despair

Collaborate with me
O yes I’m sure it’s fine
Sing your prayers and say hello
I’m sure that it's okay
Rejoice in our lives
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Today is a today
Tomorrow another
Sing Sing Sing
My Sister my Brother
Let’s go out and jump around
I’m sure no-one will mind
Can do some more again
Okay Okay
Not all at once
Lay down alright
Take a breath
Relax together
It’s okay

Give me your dark and decadently delicious desires,
the things you would never share with anyone you love;
those things in which you invest huge regret and gulit and shame...
yet secretly treasure because they make something in you ***.
        All of your unspeakable let it be spoken. embrace it, indulge it...  feel the hardness of your pen, how it throbs and pulses as your long slender fingers curl around it, working their way to the tip, teasing it to a wild frenzy.   Make every stroke of your pen spurt its steamy threads across the vulnerable nakedness of the ****** page and leave your passion dripping from its needy *******.

It isn't easy to pray at night
When worn by thoughts of old
It gives peace to my young soul
To know of a happiness foretold
If only all questions were quelled
And that evasive peace withheld
I might never feel alone again
Knowing anguish could never win
I am the sum of all my pain
A forest held green by the rain