Ideas
that I have yet to form
are already at the tip of my tongue.

So, so close
am I to finding out what my next imaginary tale will be.

There it is,
I see it.

I'm reaching out,
the tips of my shaky fingers graze the warm glass.

I stretch,
and stretch,
and stretch.

I fall,
it falls and shatters, too.

So, so close
was I to finally knowing what my next dream would be.

If I'm lost, then in my Lost the Journey will be...
What more I will lose after all what I Lost in my life....
My Learning in the Dark, is deeper than in the light...
My tears in those darkest nights are more profound than those smiles in the light....
I wonder where this Journey is taking me!
I wonder When it will end...
I question if is it a Journey or it themed with a content of an endless War!
I can say....My Journey...
Has its own flavor!

A corpse inside and out,
the glass fogs thick,
concave, ready to crack.
My neck keens and twists, but still -
there you are.

I eat my screams to nothing,
teeth marks embedded in my desire.
Permanence beckons,
tells me I can sleep if I wish, but still -
there you are.

Past skin, past bone - there's
my heart.
Your ringleader and your acrobat.

Still it doesn't know.
Still I wish it did.

Bedside table minds clean paper
Pen at the ready, lying in wait
for wording as I wait for the sandman
Thoughts pole vaulting at high speed
tossing, and turning then settling
unable to make it over the top
Mind frozen in time with selections
untamed uneducated words, hitchhiking
around my head, seeking new adventures
on paper with other more interesting fellows
Words stuck in the corners of my mind
spring cleaning energy is needed here
to pull them out of their aerobics class
Forcing the words down my right arm
in Gymnastic style movements
out of my pen they stream endlessly
inking up the page in the stillness
But I dare not move to switch on the light
for the theme will be broken for all time

Why am I so sad?
Because I'm young and the restless.
I miss some new good friends.
Including me, myself and I.
The reason why is that I'm still young and the restless.
And I'm still happy and proud, excited and lovely.
I wanna fall in love with women.
Why am I lonely?
Because I'm still young and the restless.
I love you. I don't wanna lose you.

Anonymous. 12/19/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.

Christ does not save us because he is desperate or lonely.
For he does not need the human race for praise or anything.
But because he loves us each with an unconditional Love.
For he has thousand of Angels that Praise him always in heaven.
If he wanted an faithful group , he could raise the Rocks.
To worship him, to Praise him as well, he never did need us.
So realize before this before you pass onto the other side.
It is not Christ that needs us, but it is us that needs Christ.
For even though we are an evil lot, he still wants to be our God.

The hippie days were rather hard
For a young guy just starting out.
Off- brand jeans and crew-cut hair
Didn’t carry all that much clout.
I was into show tunes and Elvis,
The Beatles were great and new.
I lucked right into the Troubadour
And fell in love with Elton too.

One of my ladies loved Airplane
The other loved the Monkees
The problem was that only one
Was ever approved by junkies.
But I was so squeaky clean
That I was only into cheap coffee.
I swear I could get high as a kite
On Russel Stover’s fine toffee.

But something changed for me
The day I first heard David Bowie.
It sounds kind of childish now
But he was special and so glowy.
He pointed out some dichotomies
Between what was said and done.
At that time we needed something
And Bowie was obviously the one.

I didn’t stick there with his genie
But his genius opened some doors
And affected my art and my poetry
Way back then and forever more.
So then it was Prince, The Doobies,
Aretha Franklin and Annie DiFranco.
And, of course, the one-hit wonders
About eighteen hundred or so.

It wasn’t always about music
This social code of mine.
But music underscored it all
Made even politics toe the line.
We made changes in civil rights
And even affected an evil war.
There is no reason to doubt it.
Music will continue to change more.

I always try to write longer pieces
But i always end them on a short note.
Dang it, i did it again.
What was my theme again?

Dreams get the best upon me
if only i would open my eyes
to look upon the world of skies
Where no one knows such lies
A world with such a loving theme
Yet it is a longing deatination of dream !!!!!

I'd lie to stay awake,
I would choose the waking notion:
I'd try to speak it straight
for most of a dense impartial resolution.

I'd stay to wake a lie,
by a flaccid disrepair of state of mind,
contorting to sudden sigh
from mostly a yawn time seemed to find.

I'd wake to say a lie,
to whom you found a missing twentieth.
I'd stay to get by
an amusing theme of prose that is not done yet.