I love my parents, but they’re out of it.
For high school graduation, they gave me a gift.
A genie, three wishes, you get the gist.
A big responsibility for an eighteen-year-old kid.
What should I wish for? Well, I don’t know!
Beginning of summer, maybe I’ll wish for snow?
First semester of college, but I don’t wanna go.
Maybe I’ll wish to already know.
Know English, Spanish, math, science, and more,
But I’d rather know what’s on the ocean floor.
Why not cure cancer? Because it seems like a chore.
No, what I really want is the one I adore!
Genie, I wish for my perfect girl.
The most beautiful one in the whole world.
Give me a stunner, one that I can twirl.
Genie said wait, don’t give that a whirl.
I am all powerful, all knowing too.
So I know a secret, one about you.
Now don’t deny it, for you know it’s true.
You don’t like girls, or “doing the do”.
You, kid, are gay. Trust me, I’m the genie.
So don’t ask for a taco when you really want ******.

It wrapped her head,
covering her auburn hair
in golden yellows and bright blues.

When the wind stole it away,
I raced after it,
hoping to catch up to the breeze.

The red and orange leaves
traced its path as it flew
through the brisk autumn air.

My fingers barely brushed
the fabric, but the current
brought it to the branches overhead.

The air carried it to
a high bough above our heads,
hanging it on a branch with care.

There it hung, beside
the glimmering yellow leaves of
the tree, swaying like one of them.

I reached towards the sky
to retrieve it before the breeze
could lift it away once more.

She caught up with me then,
laughing at our attempts
to rescue her bright yellow scarf.

Looking up at the thin piece of fabric,
I offered to climb the tree
though I didn’t want to.

Her infectious giggles at the
proposed idea graced my ears
like a soft, sweet song.

That music lulled my once-lonely mind
into sleepy peace and serenity
for the rest of my days.

Two heavenly hands hold hues of their own
A hell in the night we live all alone
The greater and the lesser light will see
She here with her one and he with his three
He sleeps and wakes up to discover names
The unfortunate truths of life are blamed
When they choose to allow her to have this
Cathar reveals itself, tetractys
A maiden resides and is instead shown
Not pen, but pencil to see The Lupeon

I am man who wants a lot though – I hope I win the lotto! I hope
she didn't try to park her heart in my mind, "where did she park
her car though?" Depression rides passenger, like some useless
cargo – I've studied my drive for a loaned passion, keeping an eye
on that car note. But sometimes I wonder where this car goes;
and I haven’t met the kiss of peace, just like I never seen Chicago.

I have a lot of goals – but scores of hurt; from questions of self-worth.
Tell me the maker of mismatched hopes, and the creator of dreams
from their birth? Who first put a curse on the tongue, to speak a few
curse words – who went that under someone, to underestimate when
they show a few nerves?

Would someone show me the why to the end of one's poverty -
better yet, how to own your misfortunes as first steps to fortune,
and living your worth, as your own property.

I am man who wants a lot - a whole lot of answers, to the questions
about the script of my life story; to live up to its plot.

I got stuck
in a plot
                                        t
w
                              i                    
                                                s
                  t

and it made
me

A) Dizzy
B)  Sick
C) Light-headed
D) Aware

............(Answer)..............

This world is moving fast.
One thousand miles per hour.
Quicker around the sun.
Faster around the galaxy,
And fastest into the universe.
No contraction. Just expansion.
We agree, it's infinite in time and space.
Is there a nucleus for BOOM?
Does time go in only one lateral direction?
Was there more than one BANG for the buck?
More than one universe?
Creation isn't an asterick,
Exploding in all directions,
Like the rays of a sun.
Time may have no beginning, no end.
But stories need a beginning, middle and end.
My story does.
The universe doesn't. No story.
Not without a start and an end.
Just a middle, with crises, conflicts and looming decisions.
This is the illusion.