I could write something noble
something great
majestic words that soar and break the stoniest heart to shards upon some distant shore

I could write something magical
something weird
perplexing text threatening like a bust-perched raven only "nevermore. nevermore."

I could write something sweet
something of love
honeysugared letters piling confetti-like upon the lap of my only *****

I could.......but I am ****** so I will not not do much but snore.

I just wanted to write a poem
And have it disappear into infinity
Not looking for validity
That it was only loved by me.

Just when you really love someone
You hold the words close
Like a firefly in you hands
Because if you open them to show someone
It could fly away into the clouds.

But now my room is overflowing
With things longing to escape
But I lock the door
Because I know once they leave
I’ll forget what they looked like.

In the essence of my eternity
I pull my strings to get what I want, what I need..
In the eternity of my essence,
I’ve lost the ability to feel what everyone should feel, no more greed.

Take me into the abyss of my misery,
While the deep,  intense, thoughts abide me in my life’s way
Everything is platforms, *******, and sin
The dogs are in the way, opening their mouths before they know what they say.

The creek is filled with alligators, yet the pond is filled with fish
I find myself in the abyss  of anger, resentment and grief.
I’m trying hard to exist within the lines, within these symptoms.
With God’s help, I can begin to live with less sadness, more relief.

The bayou is filled with souls of those truly dead and memories of past
Some killed, some filled, some souls that have been sold
I ask our Lord for forgiveness, yet sin again, like an ignorant migrant worker
I can only try to fill my life with his joy, like the bible foretold.

Forever again, it seems an eternity  to me.
Severing all the thoughts that cause bitterness to bite me
Keeping all energies postiive, in the midst of a spiritual war
Wanting with all my heart for the me that God created continue to be.

Its nefarious arrogance, that's scaring grandparents, but its in the air and I'm airing it, as we are seeing all the signs, but just staring at them.

Somehow there is safety as an arian, where we are safely alien to  Americans made in sapient sanitariums, shooting you first for glaring at em.

So what if i'm Dolling up my delirium for a serum to cure them all.

I am awol, from my call to duty, recreating movies, for serial groupies, suiting up to slither a delivery of a soothing sour piece.

I am stalling to clean the secretions from hostel sheets from the screamers being eaten, by Cretans, with beaten dogs at bay, staring blank at the fanfare from a cage.

Im burning white sage, under pages of poetry anointed by a stoical spleen, tuning out the dreams, of lesser beings, until complete.

A zoo within a zoo within a zoo, i barely know you now

Barely know how, to know you as a model citizen with baller trimmins, fixins, and a life with others wives, in the rough diamonds of the bluff, before the door opens just enough, to look through and confirm what you already knew.

Love is the stuff dreams are made of.

And through you..

Im through.

Pleading, to seed the need for repentance and with reduced sentences, bleeding the demands on stances of chance, in costly cants.

I am convulsing in the congruence, in which I am influenced, by my afflictions of depictions in my head

I might be addicted to the dread of previously said decor, in my adorable horror show afloat, deplorably denoting the nopes of logic, and the slippery slopes of khangi, that spring off me when i'm coughing on my green tea.

You are wrong to stop me in my dislogic, dodging the narcotic mocking of toxic strong arming, in proxy alarms, setting barns ablaze.

I praise the poetry pushed on me, dauntingly haunting me with savant like ambiance, from the have nots, having things as far as the eyes can see.