Alas, the feeling has kept me ill
That mocking passion within me still.
For I know well, I am shorn of my pride
And no manner in life shall provide.

How I loathe the poets
In a time before!
And the use of language
Which exists no more!

Try-how I try!
To comprehend the subtle wording
And the use of literature today
From yesterday converting!

And even the pen! A simple pen!
Mocks me with its cruel indifference
And the blank page, which words appear
Though my mind, shows interference!

Critics all! And I am mine!
How I long to make a piece so fine!
Alas the feeling since has left me ill
That mocking passion within me stills!

The lights dont shine
As bright as they say in New York City
And a rose can't grow between
The sidewalk cracks

In dreams she spoke to me
Tho In life she never glanced
Her velvet touch what draws to me
Yet awake I've not a chance

So now I sleep again
For in dreaming shall I find
A way to take her hand
Long before the sun shall rise

Hold me near
Through the passing of the night
Call to me with your voice so sweet
Until the waking light

And in life are we strangers
In dreams there is no danger there
For love is in our nature
And no more fear shall we bear!

In dreams I've felt her gentle hand
I've often heard her voice
And it would be, always be!
If I only had the choice

She bids me go
With the coming of the rays
She'll pass me by without "Hello!"
Until the passing of the day

Woman Sweet woman
The gentle temptress of my dreams
Won't you dream a dream of me
And you'll find nothing is as it seems

There's a bench in a park
That I know so well.
And on that bench is a man,
Taking his last few breaths.
Passerby's stop to look at the man,
And feel pity for him,
Yet do not send for an ambulance.
He is wearing clothes
That are not his own.
"God help my poor soul," he cries
On that cruel October night.
And this man,
Whom I've never met before,
Shares with me a kindred spirit
That I have not felt more.
And this place, I only know in dreams,
And his time, was long before mine.
Farewell to the late Mister Poe
And to the dreams you left behind.

Don't be afraid to love yourself again.

Look, for death has cast its shadow
And Reared its head.
Now my love that lies before me,
Has left a feeling filled with dread.
How her eyes
That has seen all things,
What a mood of macabre
Over my soul it brings!
And her lips,
That have still much left to tell,
Now lies with secrets
Which she knows all too well!

We are not thieves, or murderers.
We may be treated like animals
But we will not become animals.
Every day of freedom,
Is an act of faith
We have all chosen this-
To live here free as long as we can.
And if we should die, trying to live,
Then at least we die
Like human beings.
And our best revenge, is to survive.

I'm born in the wrong generation
And I'm fine with that.
While others are
Keeping up with the Kardashians
I'm busy keeping up with the Jones'.
While others are
Listening to the new album
I'm listening to music
From a jukebox inside my mind.
I remember the 50s well,
Even though I was born forty years later.
I remember watching Jailhouse Rock
At the Drive in, inside of my living room.
The day the music died
I sat at home and cried.
There is an instant running of
"Let's Make A Deal," going on
Inside of my head.
And I can almost hear Dean Martin
Roasting Don Rickles.
Around this time, **** Van ****
Is tripping over furniture,
While Ricky is coming home to Lucy.
Or was it all just a dream that I had?

Two men were drafted for war.
One turned to the other and said,
"I find it odd that we leave our own family
To keep each other's families safe."

The man turned to him and said,
"I'll make a deal with you.
If you fight to protect my family,
Then I will die protecting yours."

Do not follow where you were meant to lead. The blind cannot lead the deaf.

Catch every stone they throw and build your walls.

Each unsettling measure of nerve that remained, shrieking, longing for acknowledgement. Dulling my senses, shrouding me placing me in a situation and a relatively deep and dark abyss where my once every joyous memory my every childhood dream, residing in an area that even I wasn't sure existed, remaining to be seen but had I journeyed long and far to find that land - My mind.

Who you were
Is not who you are.
Where you have been
Is not your destination.
Love the person you were then
But respect the person you are now.
Keep moving forward
Because time does not change direction.
If you reflect on yesterday's storm,
You won't get the chance to see
The sun come out today.
Live like your life depends on it.

A kindred spirit in a dying hour
Such a fate is not my theme!
For a life deprived of an earthly pow'r
On Earth only hope is found in dreams!

Still, I can hope
Though that word since from me departed
Hope is a thing of a passing hour
And desire has left me broken hearted

Desire! What is desire
But the things in life so undeserved
What then if not desire
Has life been better served?

Authors and junkies
Are very much alike.
We all want to reach
That certain high,
Because everything looks smaller
When you're on top of the world,
Only to be pushed over the edge.
If you take away a man's addiction,
You've taken away everything he has, You've taken the air he breathes.
All I'm looking for is my certain high,
To have a chance to breathe again.

People like us don't change.
We just do a little better each time.

Remember to breathe, darling.
                    It's a bad day, not a bad life.

The only problem with a closing door is the possibility of something falling between it, unable to be closed, and the chance of it being opened again.

These were the days
Through the misted mid regions of Spain
During the autumn fair,
In perhaps my most hindered year.

I still remained vulnerable to life and what it had to instruct
Though had I been aware of the vast surroundings
Which shrouded my capable nature.

Al hope had been restored
My heart volcanic
My conscience, there
Through the Autumn air.

Our talks, they were distant,
And cater cousins we,
Who held solemn belief
In things, that most would turn their gaze.

"In she," said I.

"I find myself so terribly lost.

I tell you, if the sun shall rise no longer,
The rivers dry and embedded,
I shall find myself wanting to be lost once more.

And all men who gaze upon her majestic, and harbored nature
Shall gaze upon the very face of the Heavens."

If I have loved but once,
Then I have loved always.

Love is sand in an hourglass
                           That cannot stand.

And somewhere within the field of weeds and shrub,  she smiled until there was nothing left but Roses.

The secret to knowing everything is knowing nothing at all.

To be the person that other people see in their dreams, you have to first become the person you see in your own.

Even the greatest books have a blank page between chapters.

Some of the most extraordinary things in life have never happened for the sake of over thinking.

I will tell you a story
That I know nothing about.
Regarding a deaf man
Who was sure he heard a sound.
Now you could go
And ask the blind man
Because he saw it happen.
It even woke the dead woman
While she was busy napping.
What a sound, such a sight!
Under the sun on that starry night.
For those of you reading,
I'm sure your curiosity grows
But I can't tell you anything about it  
That I don't already know.

Try as you may, some people may never like you. Why? Because your spirit aggravates their demons.

Our life is our story.
Write well, edit often,
And do not spoil the ending.

Mister Stephen King quotes,
"We should write every day!"
If one was to do that,
We would very soon
Run out of things to write about.

I saw you dancing In the ocean
Writing love letters In the sand
A spirit no one could tame
Holding beauty in your hands

In the instant that you feel so free
In the second that the truth reveals
Running wild up your spine
And then you know that it's real

There are signs we choose to follow
There are roads we choose to take
A bitter pill that's hard to swallow
Too big of a decision to make

Every road leads back around
Soon enough if you take the wrong turn
And sometimes all you ever need
Is someone to help you learn

And all I ever needed was someone
That would teach me how to fly
Someone to open my door
And turn me loose into the sky

And all I ever needed was someone
To show me how to shine
Like the stars above
And then burn bright like the sun
All I'll ever need is you
You're that someone

They came and stepped on
Our sacred land
Took our way of life
Before they took our hand

And the huts and houses
That we built
They burned them down
And had our people killed

And to this day
We still don't understand
The wicked ways
Of the crooked man

They do not listen
They do not see
They ask no questions
To you or to me

But maybe one day
They will learn
That not all bridges
Must be burned

And all you white men
I've got to say
We were here first
When your ships drifted away

And still we will
Make our final stand
When you return
To your own native land

People like us don't change. We just do a little better each time.

She's pure, hot and cold
Her hair looks like gold
Her touch feels like velvet strands

But I still can't believe that I could ever have her
How could I be the one who ever gets to hold her

While she spins in the sky
All around me where I can't reach
And she flies but never touches land
She's out of my hands
And She's out of my league
Cause she spins in the sky
All around me

The way she walks
She's on the clouds
And I ask her to come down
And rescue me

But im just another guy on the ground
And I could never be with her now

While she spins in the sky
All around me where I can't reach
And she flies but never touches land
She's out of my hands
And She's out of my league
Cause she spins in the sky
All around me

We watch movies,
To create the illusion that the actors
Are still alive.
We listen to music,
So their voices will still ring
About our ears,
We write poetry, so that
Every last word that poets of the past
Never got to write, is said
And remembered.

Many "wise men" lead lives of secret stupidity.

Turn your gaze
To warmer days
Alas! Winter is dawning fast.
Perhaps memories
Shall keep you warm
From yesterday and summers past.

Should your candle flicker
And your heart grow worn
And the sun forbids to show its face,
Then I hope you should recall
A familiar smile in a warmer place.

The constant shrieks-each syllable overlapping one another, aiding to the utter horror of which their eyes have seen. A stream of red trickles down that lowly alleyway. And the victim still, who's eyes have seen all things, keeps her secrets well in death. And the blood! The blood itself has an empty accusing stare at the very assailant standing idly by within the crowd. I do not see his face, though a man stands beside me with his collar upright and his brim pulled well over his brows, keeping his secrets in the lining of his pockets,  twixt the stitches in the seams. The man is gone without a trace leaving only a letter behind without so much washing the blood from his hands, his skin stained with his own heinous misdeed. It seems this Jack has vanished into the night, a prowling beast who stalks its prey. Is he man or devil? Is he? Are they?

A friend is like an anchor
That keeps you standing strong
And a memory is just the cargo
That keeps it moving on

Sailing on to new horizons
To the moments that we share
Leaving the past in the distance
To what awaits us there

So i won't worry about the waves
They will come and they will pass
Like a stranger you forgave
Falling like sand into a glass
And I will never see the future
If I focus on the past
So I won't worry about the waves
They will come and they will pass

Many times we dream about tomorrow
And never focus on today
People come into our lives
And we let them slip away

So hold your friends close at heart
And welcome new ones in
For we fail if we're apart
But together we will win

So i won't worry about the waves
They will come and they will pass
Like a stranger you forgave
Falling like sand into a glass
And I will never see the future
If I focus on the past
So I won't worry about the waves
They will come and they will pass

.You know what rumors and fires have in common? Some people start them, while others spread them. And in the end someone always gets hurt.

Silence causes a series of horrible thinking, while thinking itself prevents silence.

You won't always be someone's favorite. Some people prefer wine while others prefer something a little bit more strong like whiskey.

I hear the voices fading from my ears
Their faces are blurred images
Slowly escaping from my mind.
And try as I may to reconstruct
The memory of those I've loved before
I'm aided by a cruel reminder of regret.
Perhaps those we encounter in our lives,
Some times they are our friends first,
Later on becoming strangers.
And at times perhaps time itself
Moves in reverse, only forcing us to see
Our own faults and the reason for them.
However, if time would only move forward
Perhaps yesterday we could have learned
What tomorrow's mistake will be.
What if we could keep the memory
Of those we've lost alive
By simply telling them good bye?

And she was a bird.
                    A sight to be admired,
But a vulture if you stood too close.
        Free to come and go as she pleased.

it's fun being different. Everyone thinks you're crazy and it really throws them off. THAT, is the joy.

A boy only knows when to speak, while a man knows when to be silent.

Never be ashamed of your past.
Your pain may be the key
To someone else’s cell.

I'm only able to see the world through one eye,

And yet I see more beauty in it than those who see out of two.

Writing is not a hobby
It's the soul having the opportunity
To speak on It's own.
It's a way of life.
And the more you write,
The more you breathe life
Into a society
That the rest of the world
Has left for dead.

Vivid dreams
Of my lover's screams
In sickness and of plight.
Try as I may
To rid these dreams
I will have them again tonight.
Every morsel of tortured sleep
And each moment of poisoned thought,
I find despair, no comfort there
And no greater anguish my soul has brot