6 weeks ago I was unaware from where to buy scented candles
Till then it was a studio bachelor pad with random women and one tenet
2 weeks ago I was under the impression that
Table conversation was supposed to be mundane chit chat
Till last monthI lacked the company to hold riveting conversations on the Mandela effect
After our Labor Day weekend I caught a glimpse of the possibility that how life could be just perfect
On our second date I realized it is vital to confess that I had no best laid plans  
Similar to our colossal failure navigating the retreat from Vietnam
Until a week ago I did not have your fragrance lingering my personal space casting innuendos
Recent uptake in the “stay at home-order in “philosophy has reduced me in to a fading shadow
My absence in regular visits to the Gentlemen clubs local water holes and Venice boulevards
Have my village people in search parties hunting corridors and casing Echo Park
How a creature of habit evolves and adapt to extenuating circumstance
Before the music fades along with the final chance for that last dance
Time eventually catches up or exponentially runs out
Forward motion moving down range is the only response when in doubt
So best not look a gift horse in the mouth
In order to cohabitate, one must embrace new environments hence first move out

I wear
Mismatched socks—
yellow and blue.
Tie my hair off-center,

A quiet defiance
Against the perfection
Society demands

They call it chaos.
I call it freedom.
To me,
Imperfections are beautiful.

Standing and meditating at the crossroads, looking at a tree and the sky for five minutes.

Was it their fault?
Were they in the wrong?
She made her choice
Was it their responsibility?
She thought it through
Were they supposed to control that?

They did everything right
But some things are out of their control
Can they be responsible for everything?
She didn't follow in their footsteps
Instead

She turned away
She went against her upbringing
It saddened them
They tried to bring her back
Yet she would not return

'Where is justice?'
She would ask
But she'd never listen

Then she fell
Well,
She jumped
She tried to escape their loving hands
Forever
But failed
Thank goodness

It couldn't have been their fault
But they would have felt it
Nonetheless
They still feel it now
But they will
And so will she
I hope

Grief of a love lost, has no timeline sometimes its just you with yourself fighting to find solace between the raging momentary whisks of anger and pointless sedition of your soul that irks to find the once long lost peace, You wish it has an end and rebel against the never ending !

So Are You A Conformer...
Or A... Gangster Shot Caller... ?

Or The Type of Fast Talker...
Whose Talk Walks With Porters...

Or In Other Words Those...
Who Serve Those On Thrones...
And DON'T Walk The Walk...
of... All Their BIG Talk... !?!

Cos' It’s Clear Now That MANY...
Like To Talk Like Their Ready...
To Make Things Unsteady...

When It Comes To Our Lives...
And These Leaders Who Lie...
And Leave People Downsized...

So Of Course Run Their Gums...
About Being... " TOUGH "...
And How They'’ll Stand Up...
To Modern Systems...

... Until Money Comes... ?!?

And Then They CONFORM...
To... Walking The Walk...
of Clowning Like MORK... !?!
Or Souls Who’ve Been BOUGHT... !!!

Now I’m NOT Gonna Lie...
l’ve Conformed In My Life...
Simply To Survive...

But NOT To Make Money...
To Live Life... CORRUPTLY...

Cos' People Act Funny...

To Run With The Chumps...
Who Run Governments...
As Well As The Punks...
Within... Entertainment... !!!

Who Conform To Do Stuff...
That Clearly Corrupts...

Just Like Our Leaders...
And The Money They Love... !!!

A Thing That Makes Some...
Embrace Taking Drugs...
And Forsake What They CLAIM...
To Behave Like A Stray...
Whose Veered Off The Straight...

To Bend Like Chicanes...
And Start To Act Strange... !?!

It’s The Way of Today...
CONFORMING Away...
To New Gender Ways...
And This New Virus Strain...
That’s Caused Many Pain...
And Forced Us To Play...
The Masking Up Game... !?!

And YES I Mean ME...
Conforming To Please...
But Mainly To FEED...
And Avoid These Police...

And Having To Pay...
A Fine Or Face Jail... !!!

Because OBVIOUSLY...
I’d Rather Be FREE...
Than Face Life In Prison...
And Being Conditioned...
By Those Who ARE Villains... !!!

So CERTAIN Conformers...
Should Cut Their Talk Shorter...

Instead of Make CLAIMS...
That REBELLIOUS Ways...
Seem To Get Locked Away...

When THEY Are The Ones...
Who’ve Let Money Become...
What CONTROLS How They Live...
So Are Quick To Submit...
To New Age Politricks’...
That Shut Down Businesses... !!!

That Right Just Like THEIRS...
Because They’ve Conformed...
To Levels of Thought...
Where Cash Is The Source...
of Talk That They Court...
That Helps Them Breathe Air... ?!?

CONFORMING To Think...
In Ways That Are Linked...
To Something That STINKS... !!!
  
That’s RIGHT CONFORMISTS...
Who Are Clearly TOO QUICK...
To Start RUNNING THEIR LIPS... !!!

Like A Fast Mouthed Dumb Kid...
Who Cannot Raise A Fist...

Just Like John Carlos Did... !!!

A TRUE NON-Conformist... !!!

Now I’m NOTHING Like Him... !!!

But I THINK And RESIST...
Conforming Through Scripts...
And Poems I Bring...

Cos’ I’m NOT A Performer...
A Big Money Baller...
Or Gangster Shot Caller... !!!

But I Am A STRAIGHT Talker...
Whose Really NOT DOWN With...

All These NEW AGE...

..... “ Conformers “.....

Rebels in the night immersed in the glow of the bright neon light

Surrender to the Night

For we do not know where to go but we trust in the night that everything shall be alright

The rain begins to pour
the air so crisp

If only the world could cease to exist
And leave you and I in this night of bliss.

The double slit experiment
In quantum mechanics
Shows us one thing:
That you can’t trust a *******.

You can’t even trust a particle
Without watching it like a hawk,
And even then it will disobey you.

Be a little rebel,
Get yourself a little *****,
Have your own opinions,
Let relationships decay into ruin.

Quantum mechanics tells me
That we’re all a little cunty,
Even the atoms that comprise us,
So what choice do we have
In the end?

Find community amongst the dives
where the masses drink
like sailors,
sink like ships.
The wayfarer's watering hole, where
spirits stain scripture
written on bar napkins
and patrons serve
as a quiet reminder,
that I sold my megaphone
and bought a butane lighter.