Your creation burst from my mango
And drips from my lips unto my shirt
As I indulge in your sweet tasting world.
You drip from the tree leaves after the storm
And glisten in the lake outside of my house
Reflecting the sun's might off the soft ripples.
I am captivated in this moment
Where creation stands still
And I find myself at the center of your world
Even when I do not have you at the center of mine
-Oh what a God to be a son to
And to be adored by,
One who never stops showing off his great love
Even when we stop showing off ours.
What a lucky moment
To be hit by the cool breeze in the summer sun
With juice dripping off your face
While you smile at the ripples that distort your reflection.

A little taste of heaven
Not to be wasted-

you hear the call
you answer the call
you follow the call
you chase after the call
but after all
who is calling
who is taking the fall
who are you leaving behind
back on the wall
an empty hall
shouting empty calls-
who are you leaving
to pursue what you are believing-
who is at the back hand
of your swing-
who is carrying the burden
that you’re carrying-
who takes up your cross
as you carry a wooden symbol
claiming that you hear the call-
i sit and wonder if you heard nothing after all
except the voices inside the heart
where deception befalls-

I wait for the sunset
To darken the Ally,
As I stare at you down the way.

I stand without motion
And so do you,
And so do you!
We stare as the sun goes by
And the clouds clean up the mess.

After the breeze blows
It carries away the stench!
And I don't have to worry
About the maggots from your head!

After the breeze blows
I walk back to my car!
The bullets
In your chest
Are still screaming,
Still screaming!
My gun still whispering,
"Just walk away."

After the breeze blows
The dirt covers up your skin,
And the name that once stood tall
Is now in his grave.

Monday
901 AM;
a blistering sun
the motion of life
now stopped-

“there’s been activity
in garage 1
resulting in
2 hours of waiting”

1145 AM
the blood from the gunshot wound
the bits of flesh from the skull
the empty husk
and the traffic jam
has been cleaned up-

It's the words I need to say,
The ones that my tongue can taste,
That keep me awake,
That keep my head from taking it's place.
What happened to the time I had to spend?
Was it never meant to have been?
I can never tell just when
It all falls.

What happened to that song I said I'd write
About how the kids are still my life
And how I'm still a kid in this heart of mine?
Was it just all make believe
Or do I really mean
All the words I leave
Behind.

My walls are painted white to hide my stains,
And to hide the fact that my name
Is still the only one left to blame.
My mind is locked in chain, I made them strong.
Were my dreams just too long?
Was I just all wrong?

These fragile thoughts all start to break
And sadly my own words are the only advice I take.
The ripples in the water have now become waves
And they're the ghosts that haunt my halls nowadays.

Sometimes I dream of yesterday,
And I wish I had it back!
Oh, I wish that it would stay!
Sometimes I dream of what I'd say
If I could do it all again!
Oh, time always has it's way these days!
And when I see you in my picture frame,
I wonder what made us all float away-

Do you dream of me?
Because I dream of you.
And sadly my own dreams
Are the ones that leave me bruised.
Do you sing of me?
Because I sing of you!
All these memories of us together
Are the ones that I never want to lose!

So just leave me be
Because I'd rather fall asleep
Than think of all my mistakes
And how it could've gone differently.
Leave me be
So I can dream
Once more of those sunsets
And the dust still on the trees.

I don’t think that you wanted to make me,
But if you did, would you tell?
A silent note is a deafening coattail
To follow the cries and the yells-

For the roadside seems as no one else has tread here
And the wind from a breeze is never felt.
The blood on my feet indicates that I’m walking
But I think I never walked, I only fell-

If I’m the only one that is meant to endure this
Then rid me of the scenery and smell-
Let me feel alone on a world you created
A world that continually feels like hell.

a slab-less crazing-
mixture of papier-mâché;
conformation of made-less things-
quagmire bracing to break;
lonesome drought-
steer clear of my thirst;
vacuum sealed lungs-
anguish waiting to burst;
-
purified water:
landfilled with kimberlites;
there are spotless skies
reflecting off sunspotted eyes;
purified water:
a laborer letting go;
callouses like dandruff drift-
like welcoming snow
-
a son lost comes home
skies filled - no longer alone;
dead rise again
healed, hopeful, looking
at
him.

This road used to be my worst memory-
The remembrance of snow angles and frozen finger tips-
And my heart beats
To the rhythm of that song I hate.

The pavement slips beneath
The tires in the car we drive.
My head tried it's best to sing,
But I'm still distracted by the street lights.

The dusk shadows low
As the mountains reach out to accept the looming clouds.
And I like to think
That somewhere past the skyline
There's a home waiting for me.

I daydream of the stories I'll never write
And I night-dream of ones I never wrote,
And I'll never have enough of my thoughts complete
To complete these thoughts still haunting me.

The roads still scare me-
I am reminded that my future is never certain-
I am afraid of watching those white lines pass right by my windows
And right out of my life
Without letting me say goodbye.

- So let me say goodbye to those memories
So that my tires can rotate a bit more-

Silence-
Silence-
Whisper if you cannot hold it back-
Silence-
Trifling lies, rustle when that gate opens wide-
Winds blow as the windows stand agape-

My eyes drifting, floating-
Away-

Silence-
Peace to you who find it.
Don't let those voices hide it.
Don't let them drown inside it-
Don't let- those poems - awake-
Sleep-
Let it be-

Dear God...
It's been a long road of depression and weeping,
And I don't know how many tears I can keep seeing
Until those last pieces of my shattered heart
Crumble to my creeping floors!

These floors are mopped with salt!
I have shined these floors with the blood seeping from my eyes!
I can't take another person telling me that they've thought of suicide!
I've tried to sound like I've enjoyed all my pain!
But God you and I both know that I hate it!
I hate it so much God!
And I've been grieving for so long God!

My pen can only take so much black ink
Before it explodes in my pocket and ruins everything.
My mind can only take so many words
Before I've wept until my head hurts!
God I can only take so many stories
Before I myself have become their mourning!

My dear friends...
My heart breaks to know that you have thought about the end.
We were never created to hate ourselves so much that we shatter glass
And open up yellow bottles  to try and push our life back.

If you can't find another reason to live for, just live for me.
Because I still do nothing but scream
Until God hears everything!
I will not stop praying until I see you free!
Because you are still my family!
And I will fight
Until you see the light,
Because I know that you can still be alive!

After all the years, you'd think I'd forget,
But my nightmares keep coming back, they won't relent.
I still remember all my worst memories
And sad as it is they will still be apart of me,
Because late in the night
When lay down to sleep
I can't stop my mind
From thinking of what life would be
If everything stayed the way I wanted it
And left me alive
But the worst part of life is that
Even when you grow old die
That you can never go back.

What I would give for second chances,
What I would give to get my moments again.
I'd tell my family that I'd miss them when we're no more.
I guess I just wish we had more time than before...












I still can hear the thoughts playing on my cassette tapes,
They're all broken records, all stuck on replay,
I thought I escaped,
I thought I escaped,
I thought I escaped!
But my heart is a hard thing to replace!
So I sit here still dreaming
Of what a family still is!
But my investigations show that it doesn't exist...













-I wear a lot of faces, I wear a lot of things,
But the one that I forget belongs to me!
These pencils don't do justice to the thoughts in my seas!

it's not the sound that you miss
or the view
or even the touch
or the lips
or the sound of the walking shoes
rushing forward in a stamping blitz
halted by the shadow's looming lightlessness

its not any of this

what you miss is knowing

knowing that you're not standing next to the wind
or particles drifting through your hands-
but knowing
that someone is there
and they have no plans of going-

My dear friends,
The shadows still creep at your doorstep
And the past still comes back to haunt you.
When our memories hit our senses
We find it hard to stand at the remembrance of our pain!
Of the drive to our blood-flow
Dripping from our mouths and our fingertips!
It will never be easy
It will never be easy!
It will never be easier to look back at our past
And throw our heads back in the wind as we smile and laugh!
It will never be easy!
It will never not be hard to look at the scars on our hearts
And say that it was okay, or that it was easy to get this far...
Oh but I can!
I can look back on all the mistakes I made
And see the never ending love of grace
That covers me when I start to shake!
And drives me to never give up on faith.
And that love is for me and you.
There is someone who created this world, who is madly in love with you too!
And we can try and bottle him in a cliche statement and in Sunday mornings!
But when your blood flows back into your wounds and the skin is no longer broken
You can tell that there is more to this God we hate, than the lies of those who claim they're chosen.
-Don't believe the lies my friends.
Don't believe the lies!
There are many who say they know his name, but not many who've seen his eyes!
The shadow is hard to see and gets darker every night!
But the sun will shine on us each day, and I promise that we'll see the light-

“a righteous man
picks up his cross,
gathers his loss,
and walks-
reaching for the heavens,
speaking to a passerby,
talking about the afterlife
and how good Jesus is-“

meanwhile-
another baby body is bent and broken
by a father’s “bravery” to believe in something bigger
than the breaths of his boy, his girl, his new born Bethlehem-
Because
Jesus called him.

-I find it hard to believe-
that God in his glorious grace
would give you a mission, to leave their sweet faces
and depart from this place
to carry a block of wood
to witness to others
while losing your children
your wife
your love
your spirit
your humanity-
i don’t think God has called you to anything-

You’re another pompous prophet
Professing his prophecies to impressionable people
To hide the fact that you’re facing much more than you fear to mention
And that you haven’t heard the voice of the lord or felt his love’s tension
And you carry this cross, but haven’t picked the one up in your eye; you are week and feeble.
You speak of goodness
But bring nothing but sorrow
You speak of love
Yet love to hate,
You think yourself a high priest,
But you are no servant.
Let the blood of a bitten tongue
Be the pain lasting longer
Than your false song
Slowly getting stronger.

But it was the past
And I didn’t care too much
I had my chance
This was a dance
Thank you for calling me off the wall-
You are a favorite memory
So the story goes
You are a favorite memory
Thank you for calling me off the wall-
This was a dance
I had my chance
And I didn’t care too much
But it was the past

Dear Poets,
We are a wondering bunch of know it-
All's.
We breathe words and phrases
From our upright noses.
No one composes
A song that shows us
Or proposes
That we change the things we've chosen!
We love they way we live,
And we love the blood that pours from our fingertips
On to white paper.

What a hypocritical bunch are we,
Writing about death and life
As if we knew the answers to everything.

i like to think of those rides back home
from the beach, the sand still stuck to my legs,
my hair stiff with ocean perfume,
the salt sting fresh under my nose-
the long drives make me listen to emery,
the songs about divorce and failure,
how love is never true, the sound of a fading
dream
like ocean mist
in the shot sun
alone
with wet feet.

My God,
this was supposed to be simple-
if you told me that days would grow cold
like the sound of her voice
then i don't know if it'd be a choice
to live or die, to stay are drown
in the sea like my dreams, silent sounds.
i wonder, if the clouds are as soft as they seem,
what would it be to fall through, to watch me bleed-
stop to breath-

i try my hardest to make sense of the meaningless emptiness!
the scratch-crawl for time's new best!
**** me
and you'll watch the sun rise,
even though i lived a good life.
the sun rises and falls
even on the days we die.
for this new lie-
for this new life
lies to us that it will be alright
that we will find it all inside
just like we make our right,
the wrongs in us just dissipate
like the lungs we let deflate-
still breathing
still breathing
still breathing!
like the air never stops circling the ocean
deceiving!
deceiving!
like the lies we tell our kids at night
they're all believing!
believing!

go and tell it to the mountains
that what you found is the next cure to cancer!
go and share you love
like what you found is the next answer!
for history repeats itself-
we know it all too well-
history repeats itself,
so like the wind that blows away
i'll watch you fall flat on your face!
as if the ocean never saw you coming!
never saw you running!
like the world was fooled by your crafty ways!
your despiteful gaze!
watching the world, watching you drift down summer lakes-
the eyes still fixed in place-

go and tell your stories
like you wrote the first one of all-
we will watch with pen in hand
waiting for the ink to bleed and fall-
go and pretend like you know
but you know that you don't
and you say that your sure, but we know what your wrote
and you can tell me your stories, but I know that they're lies-
you wrote them on paper but it blend through the sides-








just go-
just go-
like time did
before you hand a chance to change your road-
just go-
just go-
before you look back
and remember why you always felt so alone-
just go-
just go-
the wind waits for you
God will bring us all home-

To you who grew up and forgot about what it means to live,
To you who grew up and gave life all you had to give.
I'm there with you,
I'm there with you,
When you go I'll miss you,
I hope somehow you see some hope!
Because I've been here in my rocking boat
For too long!
The waves go on and on and on and on and on!
And once you have nothing left!
And you've taken your final breath!
People will tell you that you didn't do enough for them!
So to you who are completely dry!
And you're feeling dead inside!
Remember that when we go home
We will find some rest.

To you who see life like me
And visit death frequently,
Tell him I said hello
It's been a little while since I visited my old friend!

Oh death your trickery
Has never been so sly!
Oh death your blood ******* seas
Have never been so wide!
Is it my time now!
Is it my time to go!
What's the deal, I thought we were friends,
But I guess your lust finally found my soul!
Was it too sweet to resist, you devil!
Was it too luscious for you to settle!
Does all hell know of my good taste and seek to thrive off my flesh!
Has my soul become so wicked that you'd toast to the sound of my death!
Oh death!
Have I become your friend to the point of serving you well!
Has my heart been married to heaven, but sleeping around in hell!

To you, death, the one who's been causing me to fear,
I will find my rest, and I will run my way out of here.
And even if you have my heart,
I will tear of your head and pull your skin apart.
I will enjoy the day when your eyeballs roll down your floor
And I stand there as the blood flows out the open door.
In the end your pieces will be ripped and torn
And the one who sits on bones will be devoured and thought of no more.

I look at you
everyday
either way,
I can’t feel the pleasure stay,
envious,
out of touch,
out of mindful bend and brush!
pull and push,
trim the bush,
hold back all your fears!
hold back all your fears!
I watch you
everyday,
either way
I’m not getting better!
tell your story
state your statement,
I still can’t feel the pleasure!
-hold back my fears-

a sound is heard

the morning bird
weeps

do i dare
speak?

a sound is heard

my heart breaks
but i only have thoughts
incomplete

not words.

When the candle light goes,
The wind sings it's song,
And the bright sky knows
That the fire still belongs.
The wax drips down
The fresh cleaned table,
For when the fire burns out
It leaves the wax unstable.
Dripping
On the
Floor boards.
Dripping
Off the
Holder.
I thought
My wax could
Stay stable.
But as my
Fire burns bright,
I know that when it goes, I'll find myself unable
To see
That last bit of wax falling from me.

There goes my memories!
Was it chance that I forgot my name!
Who is this person
We look quite the same!
Where did my body go!
Where did I leave my face!
I left it here long ago!
I left it deep inside my grave.

For the wind blows on
And I will forget who I was.
For the wind blows on
And the past keeps turning to dust.

Oh clouds I'm calling you down
To bring the rain one more time
So I remember my pain.
You once were all I had,
The empty stomach, the aching eyes,
You were all of my days.
I want to go back
Before I knew you were real
Before I felt this way!
You know who I used to be!
A happy child, a happy me!
I wish you never came!
Oh I wish that I left you slain!

Oh I wish that the demons
Never crept inside!
Oh I wish that the darkness
Never made my lie!
But the more I remember
The more I realize!
That I made me this way!
I chose how to die.

The sound,
The hour,
The bells,
The taste of blood,
The fingers,
The black,
The hands,
The dead.
The toll,
The head,
The soul,
The bled,
The heart,
The skin,
The dark,
The dim.
The time,
The day,
The chime,
The way,
The eyes,
The fate,
The life,
The state.
The mind, the bones, the flesh, the man,
The signs, the homes, the wretch, the hands!
The bells, the bells, the creaking steps of two feet!
The ring, the ring, the point where the knife and skin meet!
The dead, the end, the red, the street.
The two eyes that no lies or life will ever meet.

Desolate
Deserted
No room for a quenching air-
Agape is the mouth
The dust now degraded
Leaving emptiness and despair-
Closing in to you
To confide in the dark
A whisper heard, still scared-
When you give all you have
To the bottomless pit
You’re left with it’s empty stare!
Deeply
Darkly
Death inhales!
“Your poison paints me black till I’m desolate,
frail!”

There are so many little tiny things.
Have you ever tried to count every pixel
Have you ever sat and counted the fibers in a rug
Have you ever traced the lines in your skin
A speckled masterpiece
Mashed mathematics and marshal law-
You are a magnet of tiny little magnitudes.
A mountain of meticulously managed meadows and malleable materials-
You are a mess from a mixologist,
But a drink so sweet
Seep deeply through every tone of button of shirt and stuffing
Be free
Be pixel sized if need be
Be kingdom
Be kindness
Be a rampart of rest to every microscopic dust particle
Be a tree
A happy tree
-
But don’t be not-
Not is such a word
None
Such a word
Nothing
Such a word
There’s no such thing as not
We always have
We always have had
And we will always
Thankfully.
-
There are so many thankful ways to live and breathe
So many breaths to take
So many contemplations to breath in with every single day
Whether you’re a happy tree
A scratch on marble
A bit of white fur in the rug
A stain
A bundle of skin muscle and bone-
There will always be more than enough to be thankful for
Even when we think about not
Even when we believe in not
Be fruitful
Be multiples not dividends
Be sappy
Be slimy
Be sloppy
Be a particle floating in a vast chasm
Be the sun itself
Be free
Be you.

Not for an emotional counterattack
Not for wrath or vengeance
Not out of spite,
Nor for a hateful message;
But today I realized-
Unlike before in time-
That I cannot keep reaching
To make sure you are mine;

Why must I try so hard every time,
Why am I poisoned to love-
I don’t know why.

I love you.

I know you don't believe that I'm here with you now,
But I've been watching you since the day you were born.
Oh, I've been watching you sleep at night
And I've been doing my best to keep you alive.
I've been seeing all your dreams
And I know that you never dream of me,

But Arthur, that's okay!

I'm still standing here with my arms open, waiting for you to come my way!
I don't hate you my son!
I've loved you since the day I placed breath in your lungs!
Since the day that I planned your purpose and created each crease in your skin!
Since the day that I molded your shape and constructed your skeleton!
I've been in love with you since the day I thought of making you!
Since the day I thought of creating you!
I just want you to come home.

This world is depressing, my son,
And it will always leave you empty.
Your pain can only be taken away by my strength,
You can't do it with your own hands!
You don't need to create a sonnet of apologies to make it up to me,
You just have to let me embrace you!
You just have to let me carry you home!

“Everything under the sun is meaningless”  
says the teacher,
‘truly meaningless’



the hands that toil
to endless returns
will find out that the breaking
wasn’t worth the burn-
the days spent in agony
and months spent hoarding away
will be forgotten
on the last and final days.
there is one thing remembered,
one lasting effigy-
the words you cry out in judgment
facing death’s depravity!
for there are no assurances
that a man can find!
the teachers prophecy shall be remembered,
“Everything is meaningless” we leave nothing behind!

In case you missed it-
I will never care about the miles or distance
Between our feet or the hearts that we live with.
Cut open my skin and you’ll find in an instant
The blood that thickens
Is consumed with the same blood that brought us together!
And I know that we’ll always miss this-
The simple imprints
Of hearts clasped without the intention to sever!
I would never!
I would never!
I would never!
I would never!
I would never let you slip past these walls
The ones we built to cushion every fall!
I would never let you out of this home!
Without you there’s just dried out bones!

-in case you missed it-
My hearts the happiest when you’re in it.
You’re never a burden, Im happy you’re in it!
My heart is warmed when you’re close
And I miss you when you’re far away from home.
You have a home with me, wherever I am,
And I will always be excited to see you again.

Can words really move mountains
or shatter through steel?
more than that,
I find words to be idolatrous temples
paying reverence to the self god,
spoiling, decaying,
bringing finality and ruin.

there is no cure to words
there is no stopping what a mouth can create,
words surpass auditory expression.

fear the words that have yet to be spoken
loudly enough to destroy the stars in the heavens
and obliterate life as we know it.

just because I lay my bones out dry for everyone to see that I feel things more than they ever thought I could
doesn’t make me special
doesn’t make me unique
does make me something good
or make my words a grandiose speech-
it may show that I’m week
maybe humble
maybe showing that I stumble on my broken feet
but why on earth would you take advice
from someone who’s foundation is defeat.

the truth is that we’re all hopeless to some extent, relating to something sad, something as empty as we feel
we like to feel something that seems real
something real to us
something we can see
something that we can look and and see ourself reflecting back perfectly.
but when has taking your time to look in the mirror for an extra half hour
looking at your blemishes, your skin decaying, you imperfect features, the shame lying inside your eyes, the unshaven neck, and your unkempt hair
ever brought you to any new place
any new hope,
or is it still the same-
and that’s just how it goes
when the only thing you can look up to
is a reflection that you hate to see
hate to be
hate to remind yourself that that is you
hate to remind myself that that is me.

thank God that I have a foundation not built on myself
on my own personal hell
and that although sometimes there’s comfort in knowing your pain is felt by someone else
true comfort is found by someone who can overcome the pain
someone who can overcome the mundane day to day
the pimples
the ****
and all other things-
still helping me to not look at myself so much
but to place my hand in his and
walk away.

Thick smoke spit
My tonic
Swell eyes split
Black cloud fix
Late night drips
Late night sips
Sipping up sap
Sapping up tipsy
Tap taps on the tips
Watch the floor lifting
Shifting
Smash, crackle crispy
Crunch mc nuggets
Four AM grizzly
Grizzle grease griot
Giving slurred wispily
Words like the feet
Falling faster swiftly
Like the head shoulder
Knees toes tickling
The senses of motion
Devotion to sick things!
Sick things!
Sick things!
Few friends out late
Grab a cake
Grab a mate
Grab a bake
Grab a fate
Drive it fast
Make it last
Make it crash
Make it all end quickly!
Quickly!
While she sleeps softly
Coughing up blood
Never felt haunting
Wanting her to wake up
Like the day's drugs scoffing
I'm the same drunk drugged up mug
With a lie stuck to the name like made up love
Like made up stories of truth masked with icing on top
Like the cherry minus vanilla, minus chocolate, minus ice cream, minus nice things
Minus life, minus death, minus point, minus breath, minus art, minus stability, minus self sufficient tranquility!
Find life
Find it right
Find it tonight
Find it before it's time
Find it before it's out of sight
Find it before your friends dead in head lights
Find it before you're a murderer plastered on the headlines
Find it before you find out that you wasted all this time on bad highs
Bad rhymes
Pushing away coffee cake
And pineapple plates
For a daily dose of dead drives.

they will look at me and roll their eyes
and bring me down for being ridiculous,
for being exaggerated
like foam spilling over the top of a pint glass-
but as they roll their eyes
and point out their reeled in lines,
i will not let them know that i am smiling
at the little-more slack-
the little-less grip;

sometimes these faces go weeks without a smile-
even if i am being torn down
little by little,
i am thankful to see the creases of a smile,
and to hear the sweet sound of disapproving laughter.

today marks 8 years
since i heard the news,
6 years since
we started walking askew
and only a few marking
the painful years i put us through-
for i always said sorry
i always said i loved you,
but what i meant was
“please don’t forget me and the words i let loose,
because i don’t know what love is,
i don’t think i ever knew,
because November 22nd,
my dad left the house, my mom left too
to find a comforting bed
in a house brand new
with a new naked body
a new silhouetted view,
and i sat here wondering-
‘They said they loved me,
Does love leave you too!’”







so it doesn’t surprise me that i couldn’t hold up to any pauses
any breaks
any time alone
any detachment
any moment of somber tones
and i clung to you
like you were the last love i’d ever know
like your words were their empty promises
that everything would be ok, that i would like living in 2 homes

- but here i am 8 years later,
thinking that i’m over it all
thinking that i can learn from my past,
but the fear and tears still grip my face
knowing that the lingering hurt will always last-

if i
had one more to say
while you had to leave
would you stay
would you listen to me,
because some days
seem to agree
that some days
resonate deeply
with
me.
so
if i
had one more to say
would you stay
would you say its okay
or
would
you
walk
away.
would
you
walk
away?

- it's true
you asked me to stay
but, hey
tomorrow will be better
it better be great!
because
how bad can it get,
this must be the worst
the most hurt

yet-

- please don't mind
i wont be staying here
i have much too much to stay this near
to your fear-
-don't
you
understand
this is more
than
what you could demand-

-im too tired
to listen right now
i have a few things to attend to
to lend my time spent to
to speed and pay rent to
to pitch up my tent to
to try to amend to
to play pretend to
to follow and swallow and digest inside
to batter and barter and leave all behind!
So listen to me
I don't listen to you!
Won't you hear that I have not much time!
So keep your thoughts away!
And have a good day!
Because there's problems I have that are mine!


im not near you
i can't hear anyone
so could a whisper be sputtered from
somebody's
cold lips?
maybe felt from a cold kiss?
im not near you
i can't hear anyone
so could a word be formed,
killed, buried, reborn,
and let the storm of talk
reach my heart?
for it's lonely
am i the only
one
left
on
this

mountain?

it's lonely.

am
i
the
only
one
left
to
hold
me
closely?

“And the Lord’s servant
must not be quarrelsome
but kind to everyone,
able to teach,
patiently enduring evil,
correcting his opponents with
gentleness”

Why is it
That passion,
Anger- named zeal-,
Rebuke
Reproach,
And doom
Fill the tongue
Of those
Called to be
Peace-
Do you praise the one who cut off the ear
Do you praise those who would not hammer their swords to plowshares
Do you praise those who slaughtered men for their god
Do you praise those who use guns to silence their oppressors-
Is there no understanding?
Is there only passion?
Is there no Holy Spirit?
What fruit is born from your actions?
-
We were not called to destroy, but to be destroyed
We were not called to hate, but to be hated
Not to be loved, but to love-
Do we understand what it means to take up a cross
Can we patiently endure evil
Or must we destroy all evil
And evil doers-
Do we relish in our fallen enemies?
Do you find comfort that evil people go hell?
Do you enjoy their suffering
While never having suffered yourself-

May
The
Light
Pierce
Through
Every
Dark
Secret
Corner
And
Precious
Conviction
We
Try
To
Ignore
-
May
We
Change-
Be
Made
New-
Be
Better
Than
Before.

turn
close the wooden door
take a look around
exhale out some more-
burn
let anger be restored
let out all your bitterness
as a complaint of love now poor
-
“People walked away”
“They never cared enough”
“Someone always hurts us”
“I guess that wasn’t love”
Never taking into consideration
The walls you’ve been putting up,
How you never made much an effort,
And how your always giving up-

Give up if you really want to
But don’t blame me for never reaching out;
I’d dive into hell just to say I love you-

you’d probably ignore the sound

concerned confusion moves like a lizard up a wall
scuttling in and out of my conscious thoughts,
like a heart murmur before the attack.
to my dismay, the condition is caused by this
new way of living-
having a routine,
steady pay,
safe environment,
and consistent community-
i have never been so weary of a foundation so sturdy
that it could replace the earth's crust
and prevent all tectonic movement.
yet
i am so afraid-
i am so afraid that this peace
is just the ashy smoke of my fire finally dying-
the eye spots left over once the sun is put away
and i can no longer stare at it's glory.
i am afraid that this is the cost of my comfort
and that i am no longer upset because i have learned
to accept it.

at times it feels like there is this monolith in front of me
blocking my path to the valleys flowing with milk and honey.
rain
can you wash this mountain away?
let it be made out of sand and sink slowly into the ground.
rain
can you remind me of the secret of contentment?
that there is some secret valley to be found in each moment?
sun
dry up what i have set into ruin.
let nature persevere (as it always does),
growing deep out of damp crevices,
bursting through foundations
laid harder than these new livings-
laid harder than anything old
that i felt i could not
break.

fill me up with your tainted smell
bring me to heaven, but not to hell-
when I get back, let me think about
the good times
the colors
the laugh lines
all others
around-

slip deep inside my mouth
don’t let the contents pour back out
until the world absorbs deep inside
my thick skin
my eye lids
my blue heart
pulling me back in
tight-

i will tell
all my friends
i will tell
all my friends
and when I tell
all my friends
i will fill them
with enlightenment-

i will fill them
with enlightenment

i will fill them
with enlightenment

i will fill them
with enlightenment

i will fill them
with enlightenment.

we believe (we believe)
because we see (because we see)
hidden things (things that we cannot dream)
that we are (we stand and be)
opened up
sobered up
empty cup
cut and stuffed
in the gut
open cut
bleeding true
bleeding through
seeing past
seeing why
seeing truth
seeing lies,
and we think
because we see
that we’ve seen
everything,
but what you’ve seen
was a lie
what you’ve felt
wasn’t right,
and the feelings
you connect
with the moon
and the sky
only fill
you with clouds
in a thickly
clouded mind,
so please know
that your truth
is just pretty
painted skies,
hidden valleys
in the shadows
waiting for
your demise,
so try to escape
from the ways
trapped inside,
before this
brand new high
leaves you lower than the lowest, dead in bed on your side!
and we watch as they clean up your body, and tell us to say goodbye!
say goodbye!
say goodbye!

finding meaning in the clouds is nothing more than paper-wise-
feelings in our chest telling us what we feel inside-

eroding before me
are these tiny strings
still pulling apart
still tied to me,
but
I know these delicate attachments
won’t last as long as
the ropes I tie around my waist,
but the invisible touch can sometimes
silently vibrate against my skin
and catch the lighting,
reminding me who’s at the end
of my string
far away from me,
and I can be happy-
yet
sometimes
I see
that this
hidden thread
is marked in crimson blood
threading itself through my skin
into my muscles
and out back again-
I must not only
pull out my scissors
to cut
but
now I must
pull until the barb slices through my skin again-
a lesson I will never learn.

you can’t hold the weight
of the pain pulling down your face
forming the unpleasant stares,
corroding an unpleasant gaze.
you can’t hold your weight
without leaning on the cupboards-
but the wood’s about to break!
cover the mess behind closed shutters.
i try to hold your weight,
just a fraction,
but a hurt man hurts
without care for their actions!
and you begin to say
that the high horse
is in between my aching legs,
trying to carry you safely to bed!
i know i’m no escape
or a crutch
but to say i’m an enemy-
**** yourself to your grave!

-i didn’t mean it
i didn’t mean to say
the words you think of
every day.
i didn’t mean it
i hurt you today,
the pain, i can take it,
just to see you stay.

if you wake up
empty stomach
tired and hungry
and pour coffee down into the empty hole,
it will slide right through
- such is life;
sometimes
racing myself to the bathroom
is a more pleasurable experience
than not visiting those marble floors at all
that day
that week
those three weeks-
it is by far
the more pleasurable experience
to feel the burn in my stomach
the churn
and groan
than to have nothing happen at all
-such is life;
it is an odd enlightenment
to be aware of the pleasure received
from the release of what we spend filling ourselves up with.
we fill ourselves
we stuff ourselves
and we eagerly await to get rid of it,
and we enjoy it,
at least I do,
for although such things are not what we discuss,
it is what we feel
it is who we are
-such is life

in my dreams
i think of something green
something 73 degrees
covered in trees;
and i see
white robes
colored skin
men and women
all different languages.

but i don't see
your flag
or your ballot;
i don't see
the words you shared
pastored over peoples
whipped into their ears
with a silver tongue
served on a silver spoon-
i don't see a wolf's wisdom bloom.

all i see
are crooked teeth
swollen eyes
cut up elbows
calloused palm lines
colored skin
men and women
all different languages.
they aren't scribes
and they aren't wise
but they are desperate
to have brand new eyes
to look upon your glory
and to see your radiant mercies.

i'll put my foot
in between the cracks
on the concrete slabs
and i will believe that i am
divided in half
never choosing my own path-
the foot will remain in the middle
between the sides
between the opposite ends and times
yet nothing is perfectly in between
the molecules unseen
lean to a side we don't believe
is what we really are
but we can deny the power of
choice-

we all believe
we are the in between
the new believers-
hiding everything
hoping that the secrets
wont find their seekers!
and the people we surround ourselves with!
are the people who will let us fall deeper!
we are afraid of the slightest criticism
and the feeling that we've been tricked by a deceiver!
so we ask those who follow our side
to turn around and grow blind eyes
so that we can keep hiding
we can keep on fighting
the internal battle for our lives!
-all alone-

and no one can show me the way
no one can show me the way back home-
for if i knew the way
i don't think i would go-
for i am afraid
i am afraid of what they'd know
and what they would say to my face
about the life that i now own-
for i don't want them to see
i don't want them to see this me
because i can't stand this part of my self
and the way that i drown in this sea-

and i'm all alone-
i'm alone in this place
because i was afraid to be real with those that love me-

just an undercooked
distasteful rare
half way there
mouthful of hair
always striving
with underwhelming care
to do my least best
the least that i can
the least i can bare
-
yet that's all it takes
to be standing here
making clear
with joyous sneers
praised for malintent
in how i lead my peers
to do their least best
the least that they can
the least they can fear

the humidity wasn’t even a speckled planned element,
or a slight forethought,
but as he could only taste salt in his cracking lips
and could barely open his eyes
as the sun and the sweat beat them shut,
he began to remember the musk-
and as his car swerved past the landfill
he began to remember the stench-
they accounted for all witnesses
and would be witnesses
but as the elements beat memory into his shut eyelids
and into his dripping nostrils
the nausea permitted open door ways.
After he planned for weeks
how to get her out of her
skin,
he could bury the body
but he couldn’t bury the scent of rotting corpse
mixed with sweat
*****
and Lavender Dream by Dolce Diruje-
and neither could he manage to drive with his eyes closed
while trying to ***** out the window,
splattering his face into a nearby semi,
spinning out of control,
flipping three times before
missing all roadside trees by pure-luck,
landing upside down in the nearby pond,
drowning the rest of his accomplices in their guilt,
and literally in water.
should’ve just vomited in your lap,
idiot.

protect your mind
protect your skull
protect the hive
protect the hull
protect from lies
protect from stone
protect from flies
protect from bones,
you only get one egg shell
you only get one yolk
you only get to crack once
you only get one choke,
if you slip and you fall
and you spill it all
and the slime drips off
onto the clothe
and you can’t clean up
or contain its stuff-
than it might be time to admit this was the one chance you get

and you blew it-

86 miles per hour down the highway of my mind
like a fire is nipping at my heals to make something happen,
and if I don’t get to grabbin what’s mine and start havin a good time
than that fire might get up to my ankles
and burn through my tendons
suspending me into a fall;
and I don’t know how hard my head is
but I know it will spill open
regardless of how hard headed I am,
and how hard I believe I’m escaping a fire
and not trying to drive my car through the front door of your barricaded front porch
in order for you to notice
that I want to be
noticed.

i remember when
i used to feel like
you never cared about what happened to me
and i felt like they'd never understand anyways-

they would say things like
"you don't know what you want"
or
"you're too young to understand",
and i could've gone to war with my arguments
and demands
and i could've waged war with my words for hours
until they caved
and gave me what i was craving-

and today
i find myself thinking
"you don't know what you want"
and
"you're too young to understand",
and i can't help but remember feeling like a hopeless child
with nothing but my reasoning
and anger,
frustrated by everything around me.

i sympathize with the fact that
your dad left and never came back
and
your mom wants to leave too
and
the world seems to be leaving you-
and
i sympathize with the truth that
you can't let them know you're weak
and
you can't just accept defeat
and
that letting things go makes you look badly
like you're afraid,
scared,
and
small-
all i can say is that
one day
you will look back
and realize you had no idea what you were doing
and you can be thankful for the arguments you lost,
and regret the ones you won.

i play with a pencil, placed on my desk
pattering the patterns playing in my head
and heart, helping me to focus on the board
proudly performing arts in art class, thinking of more
than the blank page
the perfect slate
the new creation to be made
im creating
recreating
imitating
the intimidating, impressive instrument
imprinting the imprints through pencil and finger prints
banging out the band's
sick-nasty
convulsive
seizure inducing
polyrhythms-
i shake my head
but i wish i could shake my soul
scream out of control
yell until their ears bleed
and i ***** uncontrollably
to the sound of these sounds sounding
like i need to say something to stop their stomping, stamping, pounding

-the teacher kicks my desk
and tells me to get back to work
and to stop tapping
because i should be doing something else;
it doesn't matter
can't remember what it was i was supposed to be doing anyway-

a phone rings to my displeasure
- another time spent
in your voice
in your precious respect:
the one demanded
for which i was reprimanded
and ****** for returning empty handed;

and i ignore your call
long enough for it to get lost again
but your name
lingers inside my brain
the image of your name
the only markings behind my closed eyes-
i dont want to see it
i dont want your name to be it
i dont want to read it
i dont want to open your voice message
i dont want to believe it
i dont want to think it
i dont want to dream it
i dont want to watch your name flash by
i dont ever want my path to cross between it;
fifty five years of seeing your name cross out mine
is enough for me to finally delete it.

-a father's hand reaching out,
means nothing once its reaching
has been to pull and tear, and rip apart;
the pain is the only lasting feeling.

it’s not the warm heart
that causes pollination  
from the honey bee

it’s just the static-
the spark between the partners-
rubbing off on them

both getting their way,
the bee and the new flower-
the wet dew glistens-

then they fly away,
maybe visiting someday-
moving on and out.

will they remember
the day they spent together-
i guess life moves on.