Presence
It is always about presence
But everyone
Is a little absent
Of mind
A little absent
From time
To time

Once I was absent
In high school
Fiction lit
The teacher
Said I wasn’t present

Really I was
But I still got wrote up

I didn’t protest
Because his perception
Was absent
And I didn’t care much
Who thought I was
Present

Don't feed me any more pain,
I have enough
To get me through the year.

Take it easy on me, my dear.


F.Z.**N

No one tenders their own opinions anymore,
They just succumb to a majority.
Seeking enlightenment,
Punishable offenses of opening eyes.

Everyone is a vessel,
Filling themselves with the "right words,"
Rhetoric chains them in ignorance live on television.

They've snuffed out the flame,
We let them,
Because you listen and never speak.
Because you fear thought,
Fear isolation.

Free thought as a weapon,
Free speech as a banner,
Free people as a rebellion.

Challenge me then,
And challenge each other,
That we may more respect one another.
Not that they agree but that they contribute,
To a nobler enterprise,
Of living to offend our brothers.

If the world is moving forward,
But we are all still the same,
Can you call it progress?
It's a regress to nothingness.

We're void of conviction,
Apt to choose sides,
But not to make tides,
When we create a new one.

At chaos is peace when we disagree,
Seek peace in discord,
Seek agreement,
But never resolve it.

Dissolving ourselves,
And what we should hold dear,
Is when we lose ourselves,
When we dwell in fear.

Dearest God,
     I'm well aware that I'm not your most loyal follower. I don't even find myself attending church on Sundays with the exception of Christmas and Easter. God I've never asked anything of you though and have thanked you my whole life for everything I have. But God, my dearest God, my friend is going through a lot lately. She's having a really hard life lately. So dearest  god I hope you guide her and help her to be the best she can be, and maybe even guide to me for it's she I prey for and not me...

Alone with the relentlessiness of doubt; with out reason.  Thoughts laboring my heart continously suffering,  with the agony of pain. The harsh reality of time echos throughout my vains; many times over, these thoughts; lay claim like a quiet storm, held captive by the damage of ancient remains.

What if the way I feel is wrong?

What if everything is too strong — or alternatively, too weak?

I feel too much of everything I think. I hope.

I never want to not feel.

Sometimes there are days when I don’t feel much. But even on those days I ache to feel something.

That’s the scary part. That I possess the potential to be blank. To not have thoughts or ideas, passions or desires.

That terrifies me.

**Odd that my biggest fear is something I so often encounter in the minds of everyone I meet.

i'm gonna write a poem,
and i'm gonna call it
Untitled
because that is what it is.
Kind of like the way we were,
untitled.
We were nonchalant and no big deal,
and i guess you expected it to be the same
when you left.
but it's not.
Now we know why I need
a title.

I've come to see,
This daylight adrift; amidst.
Refracting my joyless abyss.
Shadows of doubt linger; restless.
Misleading my moral compass,
Distant places that shouldn't exist.
Darkest corners of a timeless eclipse.
The more emotions I emit.
This cloud's progress persist.
So remise, I dismiss fears that are amiss.

There's nothing simple about simplicity ,
It's complicated and complex units iwn right,
It's just like truth that's not simple either,
It's less complex to tell a lie then to tell the truth,
But why is simple not simple,
Why is a lie easier than the truth,
Why is complexity easier that simplicity.