I was not aware of what "is in store,"
When is an art not unlike a tool?
If it can be used for nothing what then?
Is it a toy for plain simple fools?

"This is my logic, hear me now!"
I yell at empty skies so pale,
Let there be an answer for once,
This rhetorical question growing stale,
I ask "Why am I here? To make an impact?"
What then is this to ask when no one
Answers back? My plan for the next day:
To eat peanut butter sandwiches like new,
To hear the sound of my own mind from the blue,

Own mind: OF COURSE!!!

Forget it, I've thrown my hand...it's clear now you all
Think I'm the devil, till the end my reputation marred,
This will be the way of it, to be left looking so hysterical,
All I'm asking for the last time is this simple question:

**Where did I go so wrong trying to do the right thing...?
Is loneliness the end result of not wanting to fit in by
Drinking, smoking and/or popular religious cults etc. etc.?

Sitting on hold
Letting the silence grow
But I don't hang up
Because this is one of four phone calls we'll share this month
I feel like I owe it to you to stay on the line
But twenty minutes have passed now
And I've got things to do
I've waited on you my whole life
And I'm finally learning how to hang up
How to feel more sorry for myself than I do for you
Work has always been more important to you than your family
I've known that since I was young
Since I would chase your car down the driveway after you returned home from the office
So excited to see you
Because it seemed like you were never there
And I still feel that excitement when you come in town
But it's been dulled by the waiting
Waiting for you to hang up with a coworker
Waiting for you to keep to your promises
Waiting for you to stick around
Waiting for you to admit your mistakes
I'm still on hold
And you still believe work is more important than your daughter
So I hang up
Because I'm tired of waiting

.
The oceans are dying,
Coral reefs are bleached,
Ghostly acidic in the seas,
Climate is changing, not for Nero,
But for subjects who wait in whirlwinds
Eye, underneath uncapped mountain peaks,
And water is draining underground.  Where is
Reason, where is sense uncommon?  Not with
Elected hands who are wringing to lords of zero,
Whose legions are sent off, engaged in foreign wars,
To scathe, faraway dramas brought back home,
Politicians squabble, as they reel, cashing in,
Seals of unapprovals, witness hollow, low rings,
Infrastructure crumbles, above our dry heads,
And Nero plays his fiddle, in a land of perky dead,
John Lennon said NYC was in reality the new
Rome, soon set to burn, in a decade or so,
Nero knows, Nero plays, could give a ****'
Humanity is Nero playing his fiery fiddle
There is only one issue of news that matters,
Not bread, or circus, Kardashians, or deflated
Footballs, it is our survival, the earth, heating up,
Is angry and we are small, deaf, blind and numb,
A mankind of fools with Nero playing his fiddle.

Have you ever seen a plate so empty it was full? Full of disappointment, full or worry, despair & seemingly adding to your tormenting hunger.
As I stare at a full plate of food, the first Sunday dinner since I've gotten home from Bama I think, I reflect, and I wonder.
I wonder how we arrived here, or rather why because I know what had to happen and what has taken place for my family to receive.
I continue to think & eat and before my stomach can even reach its satisfaction I leave the table to write, to let you guys know to be discreet of a soul with a full plate who has never had to bleed.
J.Cole said "there's beauty in the struggle" and if you didn't dissect that on your own the beauty he speaks of is the instruction of values.
There are some things words simply can not show, there are joys & pains script can not display; struggle, disparity, and crucible are the only entities that can instill this consciousness inside you.
You can not truly appreciate crossing the finish line in front of the entire field until you have felt the embarrassment, the scathing burn of watching your competitors flock away from you like Geese in October
If you have never drove a 94' Honda Accord with "out of order" AC & lack of audio then the Luxury vehicle that is so greatly cherished seises to be luxury, it's just a car, you don't even see it as a Range Rover.
I even noticed in myself that I had become immune to the beauty and purity of my past lovers. I began to forget how blessed I was to have the present because the past was equally as elegant.
If you give the people a great commander in chief & then a second, and then a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, by the seventh time around they won't appreciate a good president.
Beware the soul that has a a full plate that never had to bleed because they do not value anyone else's plate. A rich man born rich does not value having a spare fish for the hands of the poor.
Truly how could they? They don't know that excruciating hunger, they've never felt agonizing winters sharp as forest mulch splinters, poverty so bad you feel worthless like unbearable guilt dancing in your core.
If you've used an elevator your entire existence how could you relate to the fatigue I feel from taking the steps. Taking the necessary steps to hunt, clean, and prepare the same meal that was simply delivered to you.
If you were blessed to be born into a stocked kitchen you're not to blame & I have no quarrel with your life. Just understand there are struggles you will never entirely comprehend & I just ask that you never pretend to understand what the people clawing at the bottom have to go through.

"Full stomach || Empty Heart" -Dash Pinder

Don't let yourself be imprisoned in fear

Don't let yourself cry your eyes out of tears

Don't let yourself give up on the thing you call life

Don't let yourself run out of a thing you call pride

Don't let yourself down in any way at all

Don't let yourself drown or let your self fall

Don't let yourself be an unhelpfull soul

Don't let yourself be an unwise fool

Don't let yourself live without purpose or work

Don't let yourself die a burden to earth

You cannot let yourself do any of these

But one thing you can do, is let yourself believe

In winter I bundle up tight in layers of warmth
Like a love I've never felt
Draping scarf over hoody over sweater over skivvy
The wind bites my button nose and reminds me of a love
A love I know too well
Bitter cold brief sickening and harsh
I catch my eye in an ice smitten mirror and I'm torn
My eyes look like hell
How could anyone love me like warmth and fall
For this fat face of shame, tears and freckles
Even if they do
They'll never tell.

You walked into the parking lot surrounded
By the smell of cheap perfume, gasping for air,
I'd actually climbed 2 flights of stairs,
And the man who brought us to the garage
Told me that my poor baby, my poor sweet car
Was to be left in there for more than a week,
She'd sprung a leak and the doctor was saying
So much that I wish he'd just not even speak,
Cursed old man, watch when you drink the beers!
The double trouble had turned into a smashing spiral,
My banged up car was so good through the years,
It made my boring reclusive life seem so meaningful.