1.You shall not confine beauty, that which is in the eye of the poet charged to show it to the world.

2.There is no poetry better than the other, although your words are different you all bear witness to the soul's confession.

3. You will write freely not to incite popularity but to give truth to this art.

4. You shall never use poetry as self vanity but for exploring the spirituality within each other.

5. You will not be confined to the repetition that you have used in poetry, poetry is an exploration of the self, therefore the words are too an evolution of discovery.

6. The words will be therapeutic and truthful to the self so that you can see the truth in the world to bring about the compassion within.

7. You will bleed your self onto paper and very word will be yours for everyone else, there is no poetry without others to read it.

8. The words shall be as a confession that does not inspire sorrowful outlooks, but it shall inspire into action those who knew no better than before your suffering.

9. Being true to yourself first and foremost is an absolute; if you lie to yourself then how can one be a true person, much less a true poet?

10. Each poem will be a gift to the world, but it will never be greater than your dream and will always be inferior to the most marvelous of dreams which is the art of poetry itself.

To the warmth of life
And passing through with grace
Of a woman in hand under veil,
Lavished in her unconquered beauty,
Enamored with her saving grace
Amid the elation of first kiss,
Under the spell of first eternity.

And through the veils of silence
When the swarm of sounds of
Making love have devoured the hours
And he stares into fertile eyes,
The truth of his belief in them,
And the prelude to forever's nest,
The dove returns upon white unifications.

But soon the dove will deny the embrace,
And the cold lonesome dove
Will be forgotten in the skies blue,
The touch of ****** prowess ,
The soft moist of lips that convened
A destiny of adornment with kisses
So deep and meaningful that it vibrates
Through times like a phantom flame
From forever's fire,
The bitter flight of the dove with passion
To ravage her body,
Upon the return open does the veil.

Before passion abandons,
Let them return home to nest
The kisses from that eternal night,
That journey for the taste your
Of your sanguinary fruit
Provoking the eternal flight.

Before her lips close at the dove's
Return, lift the veil of forever
On the romantical threshold,
The death and purity,
The light and the venom,
What white veils may hide.

It is better not to go to Eden
Empty handed, solemnized,
Among the mutilated people.

Even among first fruits, now withered,
The words of poets with their
Pompous thoughts and politics,
They must have thought themselves
Great for survival of the flood,
Groaning at lesser poets in their eyes.

The ominous black thoughts,
They have worded destruction on
To the new poets whom might steal
Their light in a ghostly place,
So that they do not return and we
Are stuck with the same moderation
While falling under an evil spell
Of repetitive words mixed with
Bitter allusions.

When the site turns to "goodbye"
Instead of hello, inside an old enclosure
Creaking with the same ole and their
Followers hoping to be hearted by
Mediocrity and sleepy eyes,
We all lose a little of what this place
Was.

And I will enter the poem hated,
Earning respect the way it should be,
With my words that cannot judge,
With my hearts that have eyes and
Have read your poem,
I will humm along the spider's webs
And see if I can see the hope and reason
Of why any of you write these
Wonderful confessionals.

In the relentless nature of renewal,
The crying of new born poets,
For what is given and taken
In the words of you ,
I will be here,
Renovated alters for your sacrifice,
I will ring the bells
With fluctuating tones,
The affectionate words of your sorrow,
By the light of your dramatic hearts,
There is a poet who does not take sides,
I am here to read and enjoy,
Either in the light or the dark,
The intimate poetry that is you.

Perhaps, maybe
There is a man that truly loves a woman,
And they will love each other
Forever in the light
And happily under God's watch.
Perhaps, maybe
They are fed up deep inside,
Sickened of the repetitive days
That fill the emptiness with
Nothing and out of that nothing
They **** each other slowly
Everyday.

All is invisible,
The unspeakable silence
That penetrates the ears louder
Than the love we make.
And the things left unsaid
Unite the hope of the two
That it might be spoken
To fill the abyss that grew
From the light of their love.

And they live life to the fullest
And think they had a good run,
They are lovers and tireless
Husband and wife.

Perhaps, maybe this is the only truth
They may ever know.

Every prodigious step
Toward the angel's ascension
Brings the Omnipotent tear.

Descending like stars overlapping,
Birthing a dark constellation
Chasing a Holy Ghost.

Behold himself in reflection
Twice as a rich man,
Once more a beggar fluent;

So comes a behemoth on winged
Sandals that which twice befell,
Unveiling the holiest of sins.

Father before me and after,
Is immortality unveiled
Like parting from Heavens gate?

From the highest in a chain,
A slave to every master;
Much defined is the mortality.

The Dead have no glory,
For glory's sake to remember
A Victory in transcendant stories.

Seek no more the Holy
As though running from fear
Of the sin,

Tis the same above as below,
Man o man, the futile pawn
Of the Mysterious Game.

Savior of my saddest days
Catcher of my fallen self
You're always there
My everyday superhero

Plastic bags are my super villain
and no I am not Aqua Man
I am Michael a normal male civilian
of some young-adult age,
whom is still willing to inconvenience himself.

Not so old, where holding multiple objects
sounds like an obstacle too acrobatic for the limbs to handle.
One can too many knock's off the balance of the elderly
and cast them off the trapeze of a sidewalk
into a net of asphalt, where being caught is a broken hip.

No that is not me, although it does remind me
of my grandma, because to her plastic bags are her life-savers.
It is a struggle to convince my grandma that I am a great trapezist
so we can leave these bags to their solitude
and finally defeat this enemy.

Although with plastic bags it is never so easy
they have plenty of goons who are willing to do the ***** work
forcing themselves upon us at any opportunity,
even those that don't make any sense, even for my grandma.

I Went to Best Buy and bought a brand new movie,"Unfriended"
and I got it for my grandma to watch, since she's a bit technophobic.
This movie will haunt her; for ghosts **** people through the internet.
What will haunt me is Destiny, the worker, handing me a plastic bag:
with a 13-ounce, smaller than a piece of paper Blu-Ray inside
...without even asking if I wanted a plastic bag.

Skyscrape city
Land of Construction and Buying Local
I stand here. Metallic red spandex
sweat collecting in my mask.

down the street a band of thieves
bang and clang loudly in The local bar
Not-so-cleverly named: The Tavern
"AYE!" says the largest drunken-est one.
"what cries first when you **** a girl?"
"her Eyes or 'Er heart?"
His filthy men take their guesses.
"Eyes!"
"Heart!"
"WRONG!" says Kane. "'Her Mother"
They all laugh, at the honesty.
Clang their tankards loudly!

These Bandits are a problem.
Some sort of Super Hero needs to bust in there and put an end to this.
which is kind of why the crime rate here is so high.
Because that's not what I do at all.
I'm just a 20-year old man playing dress up.

Monday Morning I call my friend Max
All I say is "Meet me at the mall ASAP"
Before I hang up.
From behind me I hear
"I'm already here, man."
I twist my head up and look around to find Max holding a Nerf gun pointed right at me.
Pop!
"What's The Plan?" he asks.
I kneel down to claim the Nerf dart.
Hold it tightly in my fingers.
"By the end of this day Max,
We're going to be Super Heroes."

We Travel around town searching for the perfect costumes.
First stop: ***** sporting goods.
We buy Mace
Air horns.
Kneepads
Under Armor Spandex, with armor pads!
"Dude! You look like military aqua man!" says Max
in that split second we had the same thought.
"Military."
we stop by the army surplus store:
buy gun holsters,
utility belts, Ammo pouches.
Never bought guns,
We just wanted to look cool.
Max spots a German machete
"Nick."
He glows, holding it, looking up to me.
"Yes." I say.
In a glass case full of various knives and daggers I spy something Precious.
Bladed playing cards.
"They're perfect." I say.
Max looks over my shoulder.
"You don't even know how to throw regular playing cards."
"Shhh, Max, I'm having a moment."
I hand the store owner a magical plastic rectangle
When we're done we Plop our shopping bags down in an alleyway.
it's dark now.
Dark enough to Slip into our New spandex armor.
Click Fasten our leg holsters
we spent our whole day shopping, for this moment.
Max holds out his machete and starts swinging it around.
"Max you don't even know how to wield that thing."
"Like you do."
cheque pants step out the side of a building and haul some trash bags into a nearby dumpster.
Then spots us.
"What're you kids doing!"
"Ahhh!" Jumped max as he lunged at the mans head with his machete.
"MAX!"
It was too late.
blood gushed from The guys skull
He slide down against the wall.
Max backs up slowly. speechless. wide-eyed.
"We Need to tell someone about this. right now."
We'll them a crazy murderer showed up and killed this guy."
"while we were changing?"
into our super hero costumes?"
We'll leave out some details max! We're lying! Let's go!
We Burst out of the Alley towards town.
"QUICK! In here!"
A Sign on the front wall read:
The Tavern
We dashed inside.
Men are laughing loudly, clanging their tankards drunkenly.

Then laughter stops.
Only the faint sound of pub music in the background covering what otherwise would be Crickets.
Eyes all fasten and glare at max and I
Snickers and giggles start poking fun at our outfits.
"Hey Kane, get a look at these queers."
"This ain't no gay bar boys, get a move on"

I finally Piped up through The gum of my throat.
"SOMEONE IS DEAD!
Blood everywhere!
Need..
Call...
Police!"
"Phew! I need to run more."

A Small bald man whispers to Kane
"Boss They must have found her."
Kanes Eyes go wide
"Boys!"
The men slowly rise from their seats and advance
Two of them slide behind us
Blockading the door
Large hands vault us toward the center of the room.
"You told the wrong Bar, boys" Says a bandit.
Quickly, I fumble through my pouches.
Try to whip out a bladed playing card and throw it at one of them.
As I flick, my finger gets sliced
Stings.
The Playing card clangs against the ground as I nurse my finger to my mouth.
they all laugh
"Oh look! he thinks he's some kind of Ninja" Shouts Kane. "HA!"

a bandit grabs my arms, twists them back hoists me up.
Max takes a swing at a bandit
It hits him much like a pillow.
A ***** eyed stare from max looks to the man as he Drives max right in the jaw and sends him sailing to the ground.
His lip bleeding.
Max reaches into his pocket.
fingers clasp firmly.
Closes his eyes.
LAYS LOUDLY THE AIR HORN!
The bandits jump back and cover their ears.
While the bandits hd their ears I escape the grapple.
I drop, reach for my mace,
Jump back
spray him in the eyes.
"MAX!
LETS GO!"
we run towards the door,
Still laying on the Horn.
Kane Stands in the way.
Grinning.
I finger a Playing card in my pocket.
Better get good at this fast.
Wrist flick
It flys through the air
Bee lines straight for him.
Straight in the eyeball!
"AHH!" His hands fly too his face in pain.
His fingers clench the card
He braces readying himself to pull.
We Bust out of there.
Run down the street.

flashing red and blue lights glow from out of the alley.
We peak around the caution taped wall
A cop is searching our wallets,
He Pulls out our I.D's
"Leave our **** Nick, let's go."
"But, My coffee mug!"
"But, cops nick! But our wallets nick! How about our clothes!  Our homework. My machete!"
The cop looks over towards us and we press fast behind the wall.
Max and I look at each other
Nod.
Race off over a brick hill
Around a Tower,
Into a parking garage,
we book it down
flight after flight of staircase into the basement.
Thump against the cement wall.
Gasping for air.
"Max." breath
"Yeah?" breathe
"It happened."

The computer
So complex, always developing
Never carefree
Overloaded with so many memories
Of love,
Loss, anger and everything
Screaming signals
For the downloads to just stop
Cancel, change tracks and
Get off
Leaving the paranoia and insecurity behind
All that's left is the battle of the minds
Dizzy with violent thoughts ad fantasies
Overflowing rivers of possibilities

Love is joy, has a limited time
Anger is destructive, and out of line
Grief is never over, and done
Fears yet, to be overcome

The storage continues to overpile
With emotional paralysis
Eventual unconsciousness
-> Download incomplete