the moon
casts
a brilliant
white mirror
of sunrise
splendor.
cold morning,
sobering deep
blues, and
with treats
of cotton candy
horizons.

Sometimes you wake up dancing
Knowing we have eternity to sing
Love is eternal
Faith above

Morning river mist
Cascading lulling water
Single falling leaf

i saw the face of a woman in the clouds.
i have not seen it in awhile.
she showed her eyes in the skies.

The crescendo lifts
Lifts my heart and soars away
Maybe it were my peak?

The rests of the music of my life
Ring louder than the notes

"The rests of the music of my life
Ring louder than the notes"

So what if the rests resonate loudly than the notes?!
I say let them ring!

Let them halt the loudness of the chorus,
or the orchestra,
or the band.
Show everyone silence is a sound too!

Music isn't all about triumphant horns or beating drums,
And neither is life!

The beauty of silence in music goes largely unrecognized.

And the same thing goes for the music of life.

And you might be waiting for your next note,
Sitting, waiting; as you read the music.
And when the rest ends,
You will know it was needed to magnify the note.
So let the rests ring.

Weak for a week,
Because of no eye for an eye.
We both saw the truth,
But I'm so far from the sky.

My heart drives me.
My soul guides me.
My mind transmits me-
I am happy.

I have traversed the sailor's swirled depths to walk on water to the land across those seas.

I have gone through darkest tunnel to bask in light.

Trekked through valley and mountain- to hills beyond.

I am an eternal student, a teacher in that own right.

Follow, and I shall lead-
Lead, and I could follow.

I have made peace in hell and fought with love for all brothers and sisters throughout.

And chances are, I will have to traverse the cycle again.
Losing and gaining and keeping and welcoming people throughout;
my heart carries all them inside and
my soul is built from broken pieces of time that
my mind makes lasting stone cloud-castles
out of that dust of ephermal sand.



Once I reach the end of this, that is when the true poetry will begin;
I believe it so.

I'm a killer.
a western shooter.
my triggers
mark your
final punctuation,
and six shots
are your
final sentence.
a lifetime taken
to justice.
gunpowder
is your kind of
a last meal.

is it vain to retrain the brain; to refrain from blame through thoughts of when, and which, was yesterday's sane?

to retrace, my steps, although im minor, not for hire and one's worth not sweet; some his words first taste couldn't be drier.
(and i feel at times, adept).

sworn words that dont taste of scorn
sorrid horns i beautifully adorn
halo in the high-lows, it never did go
cracked virtuoso, china wears thin

so life's machine i take some heed
enough to see my wishes in tow
hope makes me see life in between
,the space of my words i can see  
magic intervenes

I would love to fall to love and love to love to fall again.
for,
my heart it beats.
my life it weeps.
forfeit: it is cease.
my soul
it is been wholey
yours.
and there is nevermore but to surrender
to yours.

the clouds span above me
yet the horizon mountains
are in the sun

deny false disgrace.
but sharpen your ego.
don't harm your body,
tattoo it on your hand.

do you see me in a star?
a tree?
the ground touching your feet?
that wonderful picture you drew for the entire world to see?

a cloud?
a stick found?
an animal with a silly sense of the profound?

a little treat?
one to pop into one's mouth while in defeat?
a kiss?
a wish?
a tender lovesick?

a place far?
it a one far from bizarre;
a home built without arms?
a dead end?
a pool side tend?;
lost act of babtism in a man-made lake:
fenced in by my scars?

a whole head of lead;
one that gets a little too upset?
someone so far too in their dread;
to help?

a savant, a fool said, trail blazing by his own design?
but still one who found himself equal, amidst all of people; and loved them above their, and in turn, his own value?
all to the tune of a rhythmic soul's belt?


one could never truely know.
i only grasp at the collective human primordial seed.
to understand this waking world.

Rest easy amidst the darkness
soaking in the shadow
A heart beats so shallow
the sweeping obsidian in the soul
a monumental metronome's shade looms as it
swings back to forth above
The spiritual vice that crushes ribs
that has yet to sunder
It carries weight, the more 'others'
the abyssal tides of nightmare's hive
It pulls my heart to earth
it fuels my soul with ink
It poisons my will
gives me reasons to leave.

around the chilly moon,
and its blizzarding blaze,
were pinhole stars that
slept soundly within its waves.

a moving milky daze.
crescive cloud's march
into moon's light-
it was a blessing in the haze.

the dead body
lays still
as flies
assault its
impenetrable
tranquility.

never lose hope.
it will always have your back,
whether you know it or not.
it solely reimburses
complete faith.
confidence: determination: love: happiness.
it could light any dark room.

always pitting yourself
or using your position

against a lesser abled human

will always lead you to realizing you
are nothing
against a greater one

equality
will lead you to your greatest value

"let me be your king
among slaves."
"all I will gift would have
been free from me.
every downtrod
I will take
in favor of every of your own
development I so wish to build."
But watch what you do of him,
for our sake,
he is not playing to win,
and we felt him leave too.

the season of forgiveness
is like the cold bite of snow
that now slides down your
stinging smiling face.

I don't know if
            you know how
     much you mean to the worth.
   I'm immersed by you.
So please, sing, dance, work,
write. Whatever it takes.
Become the median, and
bear your realizations.
Smell the seas or feel the wind.
  And whatever they may be,
  your beauty is the integrity;
      integral to our love.

you saw the parts of what you hated
  in yourself in me
while i saw the parts i loved about myself
  in you.

times again it tends to switch

you were only once,
now you're never again.

you're on my mind
almost all of the time.

that's it.
that's the poem.

my past might follow me,
chase up and catch me.
but atleast i will be in a wilder place-
lost again to be found.
driving down that road that is my path.

aspire good;
and affective
immedietly,
your power
gifts happiness.
aspire good;
even if this is untrue.
aspire good;
for we will always triumph.

my job as this poet
is to minimize pain
and to maximize healing.

minimizing the words
while maximizing the
heart's thump.

the concepts are like objects,
like mirrors.
whatever you see
is in some part
your ownself.
focusing within,
we are all trapped
within our own mind
treating others outwardly how
we wish to be treated or it
a cry for help.

when i look in the mirror,
i love what i see.
i hope to not let it hurt me as i accept my own image,
only-
but if i see a little truth in
what others do
that i hadn't before.
then, its time to channel it more to good.

Our silvered tongues dance

A serpentining elopement, unholy matromony of us devil's scraping symphony. Slashing swords, daggers strike embers into a kindling of deep desire. Stab into me, this poison that knows home in my soul and only makes bedding elsewhere when it needs rest.

The flesh of virgined neck defines my tongue and teeth's path; a malignant manifestation of a trail of rash and hive that marks us monsters.

It embeds me. I rest in my nest in their head

rightful justice will come
for my heart full of health
and bountiful love.
i will live in the woods, i hope
you would join me;
if not for just a little.

i mainly use blue
it is my #1.
my true natured ego.
i love using red.
it is my #2.
and while ultimately its color
rings just not as true,
i serve, my egos; it a pallet of colors.
many to see
many to look out for:
#73 pairs well with my #84
#7 i've seen only from long distance
#10 hates me dearly
#5 would make you weep sincerely
#18 you could look through clearly
#229 matches the wind blowing past the chimes
and #35 leaves me out of breath
these
oranges with blues
some have purplish tones too!
reddish green, mixed
in its hest i agreed.
a mix of them all,
swirling to keep my servitude
because these colors are i,
as much as they are them
honoring all makes
it all anything, but none


rainbow of this love,
how could one choose,
looking out for only #1
is a life ill continue choosing to lose

walking along the way
how many would slowly **** you

on their road to salvation

a freedom fighter
lasting in his family name

too just, to throw him in a cage
my chains befit as weapons

ive looked different every season
a new face with a changed reason
picked up a new scar, that was once a lesion

it's hard to keep it straight
like a new task that im returning late
some will call it karma, some would call it fate

my past is a lesson, my past is a weight
it's golden, it's a blur
only some would relate

FACE REALITY AND CONQUER IT
ELSE SOMEONE ELSE WILL.

I've been doing eye surgery.
I can finally begin to see the world
as I used to.

Blueberry soda
and orange sherbert ice cream.
Strolls with cousins and
little rhymes within mom's
metaphors.
She had eyes in the back of her head
that cast light into our hearts
that she had birthed from nothing.