i do not sing the storm. i do not sing rage, wrath
the lightning bolt, the scream. Despair i do not sing
i do not sing struggle–revenge poisonous blast–
the hurricane, the quake that tears the city of peace

i do not sing no border. i do not sing no flag
i do not sing no warrior but she that fights all fear
Poverty & sickness-night, the blade, the club, the trap
blows, wounds, cries, lies, bursts & war-blood i do not sing

i do not sing despise for any thing or being
i do not praise no richness no governors, no kings
From all this flower-garden i pick one single rose:
creation is just dew upon the rose of love

i celebrate one flame. i only sing one blues:
the flame of endless loving with you & only you

you're beautiful

you're full of dull voices and screams and pure gorgeous distorted noise
and it's beautiful

you're beautiful

you give me tiny smiles and silly jokes and you sing out your heart just for me
and you're beautiful

It's okay to be white
It's okay to be black
It's okay to be Asian
It's okay to be Hispanic
It's okay to be female
It's okay to be male
It's okay to be gay
It's okay to be straight
It's okay to be YOU.

What's NOT okay is skipping a track on The Black Parade.

She watches me
as I illuminate her
head on the pillow,
still cornering the daylight
into the rear window.

She lays, outstretched,
filling the back seat of the car
with unwrapped thoughts,
too deep;
my rays can only reach so far.

Her sleepy eyelids blink
at me in question.
A suggestion?
I hide my face behind a cloud.
"'till soon," I whisper.
I'm only just a surface moon.

The light knows me; however, in bits and in pieces. The darkness knows me well.

I can't cure each word
Soak them in sorted light
Wait patiently for them to take flight
Some burst out too soon
Like runaway balloons
Those are the best words to write