Have you ever been lost?
Lost to the point where you didn't know which way to look.
Which direction to point your feet? And every street looked the same?
Have you ever lost yourself  in a transcendental feeling where you felt that up was down,
And down was up?
A constant wonderment where you couldn't wait for the next moment to come?
A split second that turns into addiction- a moment that feels like your first kiss?
The moment your mouth waters almost out of control,
Wandering about in your garden of thoughts. Replanting every seed. Harvesting the fruit fresh grown by the sun.
Have you ever lost control of your breath?
Hyperventilating into a circumstance where time itself has gotten away
And you weren't at all bothered?
To relive all of the feelings that feel like only yesterday.
Mere seeds that are scattered into the very garden that has become root of where you truly felt your happiest.
A moment where you left your bookmark at home and revised a whole chapter of your favorite book with the biggest smile?
If at all you've ever been this lost, you deserve to be locked inside an insane asylum.
Because most people need a passport to visit the things that truly make them happy

There are 30,600 seconds in an
      eight and a half hour day of work.
           Each subsequent is a sharpened
              tool of useful motivation to help me
                  alleviate my inventiveness...but
                      the value of my individuality
                         is ejected into a bottomless
                           pit of redundancy and wasted
                               on slave labor and dolor.
                           The duration of time with my
                        12 eyes is pillaged and plundered
                  by the imperialist pirates of propriety.
               They kick you when you're down
             and make you smile about it.
          That's why you need a day off
        before and after your weekend.
     Mercifully, half my work day
   is spent in the bathroom,
    where all the business and
      communicating with the
         outside world gets done
            and I can write my poems
              and escape into the abyss
                 of my own creativity.
                   All of my poems have
                     either started, finished,
                        fully written or re-edited
                           in the bathroom.
                             If I told you this poem wasn't
                          written in the bathroom than
                        I'd be lying to you and there's
                      no reason for that.
                   There's not much to look at except
                 two bare walls, one bare stall door
              and a toilet paper dispenser but
           that's more motivation than all
        the dullard coworkers combined.
      ......And if the
   shower is cold and
the hobo's clean and
  the beer is warm and
    the grass isn't green and
      the whores are dry and
        the weed is wet and
          the money is scare in the
            rich man's eye and
             the air is breathable,
              religion is believable
                and the mosquitoes are
                  tolerable to the young
                    man's mind, then....
                      me and the popcorn man will sit on
                    the highest skyscraper of wet hair,
                  eating flavored ice and watching
                the yellow skies as it rains snakes
              into my gums and I can live a life
           without fear and have prosperity.
         It's better to live a local
        legend without notoriety
      and be discovered
    after your death than
  to die a sell out with
global stardom
of longevity.

in some ways
it's easy to love
it's hard to try

love hard
try harder.

The key to success
is see the wood AND the trees
don't give up first time

keep going!

Dead and lifeless
Just like a tree
I'm talking about someone
That someone is me.
Without any dreams
For I've let them flee
And now I'm dead and lifeless
Like a cold winter tree
Though trees become green
In summer and spring
Their leaves eventually fall
And winter comes after all.
I wasn't born in the Summer, the Spring or the Fall.
I was born in the winter, lifeless and all
I'm so cold
So bare
And so plain
I never grow any blossom
Like the cherry tree down the lane
Tough I'm not perfect
And you may not see me as worth it
I've tried already to be like the rest
I really tried my best.
But I'm not the others, not full and green.
Yet I've decided to be myself, to bare and so clean.

Nobody is the same and even if you're feeling unappreciated, unimportant or unoriginal, you will always be the one person nobody else can be, so don't try to be anyone else.

I am America's Pride.
I am freedom
I am glory
I see a diverse culture of free citizens
I seek peace
I am America's pride.

I am beauty
I am motivation
I though the world's heart.
I worry about war
I cry for wounded and fallen soldiers
I am America's pride.

I believe on eqaulity
I say "justice for all"
I have people yearning to be with me
I hope for the best
I dream for a world united
I am America's pride.

I am glory.
I am freedom.
I am beauty.
I am united.
I am just
I am America's pride.
I am the symbol of America.
I'm the American flag, flying high.

tc 7d

i am grateful for solitude
i am grateful for every person who says thank you when i'm driving and i let them pass
i am grateful for every opportunity i have been given in my life, although i may not have taken advantage of them;
i am on my own path
i am here to create my own route
and i am not in a hurry
time is fleeting but i have paused all the clocks on the supermarket shelves
i do not rush
i can taste moments
i inhale them like the smell of fresh bed sheets
i am grateful for my body
it is articulate, it is flawless by design; it is bespoke
i learned to love myself when i stopped expecting other people to love me,
and i am grateful for all those who didn't
because now, i am grateful for me
and i travel like a lone wolf so freely under moonlight
my howl is there to invite you,
to show you that you, too, are worthy of loving you

you are worthy and you are enough
Joseph Miller Sep 12

I'm scarred
but not scared
building character
is a journey
I'm not done
trying to be
better than I was
I keep going
for the joy of it
I keep going
for the love
I'm not done
for the soul of it

Paul Butters Sep 8

No life or death
Pain or pleasure
Or Universe
No more beautiful dawns or dusks
No world of wonders
Or anything
Once we are gone.

So it’s Now Boys!
As Huxley said
On “Island”.
Live for Now.
For this very moment.

Let your mind go blank.
Listen to your body
And all that surrounds you.

Breathe in the oxygen
That gives us life.
Admire the sky
And all beneath it.

Join with nature:
Sapping grass and foliage
The song of birds
As Mummy Sparrow feeds her fluffy chick
Its beak open wide
Clamouring for food.

Enjoy it all
While it lasts.

Paul Butters

This one has been simmering for a while....

The three little words
I will never say
Are that "I Give Up"...
No! Never! No Way!

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