The Guide
the guide that lies in front of my eyes
The spirit that no one can see,
the spirit that knows no apathy
Only cold purpose
And it would never try to shirk it's duties to us pitiful humans but do we
as people, as poets, as breathing life forms
Do more harm than good, or Good than harm with our words whether slurred, spoken, written or whispered lovingly being the barn?
Do we live our lives to the fullest while chopping down another's forest
Or do we abhor this enough to encourage life among all organisms within this earths strange prism?

I'm afraid I cannot explain myself well
From the hole in my face
From which the words fell
So I write them all down
Every smile to every frown
For when I try to speak
I barely make a sound.

I want to be tied
     like a knot or a bow tie,
             entwined and embraced-
in the midst of a strange chaos
          where I shall find myself again.

Surreal messed up poem. Only my friends will get the references.

Weaponized turtles
Moaning Myrtle!
Platform 9 and three quarters
Oops, wall is out of order.
Now you’re concussed
This makes you crazy enough
To take a flying car (because you’re fool)
To a snake infested hog with dermatology problems school
Adhesive sloths!
Polka dotted moths!
Oh wait, that sounds like butterflies
With this poem, literature dies.

I apologize, I just felt like writing something absurd and I am really REALLY tired and my brain pattern is weird, and I read too much harry potter…
OSTRICH ATTACK!!!
Hey, I told you I was weird.

She said she'd pinprick your watershed
Leave alone , it must be bled
A cold and somewhat silent shiver went through you

She tossed your hair with fingers flared
Before she rapes your lips she says she cares
And cautions ,"I am no where near through with you ."

She rips your shirt , rakes your skin
Over and over again
Till blood trickles down upon you

She licks you dry
And praises the sky
saying, "God is jealous of you guy ."

Then she sits upon your lap
Knocking off your tip top hat
And throws a ****** to you

The first and third lines rhyme
She takes away your time
Makes you scream in agony and ecstacy

All of mercy . , .
More on mercy . , .
Tasting pain  . . .coated in pleasure

The memory lingers
Burning like a scorpions stinger
And now your mallingered aren't you

The second and fourth are lines of choice
Developed rhythm for the course
And you grade your decisions running through you

She left you dead , hurt your head
And then she fled
Tossing your heart into the river

Your grateful that you live
but still you go on and grieve
Or at least wished you did

As you are trying to relate
All you do is quake
And start to uttering

"All on mercy . . .
More on mercy . . .
Have mercy  . . .on me ."

Too many people
Too many faces
Too much attention
In all the wrong places

Too much talking
Not enough quiet
Nothing to stop this
Deafening riot

Daggers in my back
Chains at my feet
Strange friendships
Love *bittersweet

my body is like an orange
outside I am bright, spontaneous
but peel back my skin
oh, feel it old and withered for its young age
even though I was only just picked off the tree
and you will find the strings of pale yellow
slowly breaking apart
confused, a nostalgic color
inside I feel boring and I am sad
it only takes a peeled layer
a whiff of muggy air
and I am drifting out of my sight
in tears
leave me here to rot

In the land of a child
The angels hide
Hide from the evil
Hide from the demons.

In the land of a child
The beauty arise
No fear No labels
No sin No lies.

In the land of a child
The garden of lullabies
Mesmerized eyes
The mystical heart
The strangest art.

In the land of evil
The innocence's lost
Caged by temptations
Devoted for lust.

In the land of evil
Looking for fame
Wanting the gain
Searching for love
The problems won't be solved.

In the land of evil
Addicted to gold
Stuck on the dope
Smoke
           Chase
                    Shoot
                             Sniff
Bow to your Lord.

In the land of a Child and Evil i was trapped in between.

An innocent soul gone with the wind.

Falling with the rain
But the memories remain...


Words Of Harfouchism.