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

Separation-

Exclamation.

Exasperation-

and then silence-

for all the years
when you were speaking to me
have found the words

silent-

and as the feet
slide side by side,

the heartbeat
is deafly quiet-



a treasure is lost

a foundation is cracked

the stone i leaned upon has swayed-


my only wish,
if i could have it,
would be that you could’ve stayed-


that maybe grace and understanding could keep you
instead of sending you away.

You are the rain
sometimes cooling down
sometimes in the way
sometimes comforting me on my couch
sometimes frightening with rage-
but you are not just the rain
you are a cold front
on a hot day
with the sun still shining-
brushing against my face;
and I dream of when you’ll come
and I beg that you would stay,
I anticipate the moving clouds
knowing they carry you my way-
but you are not just a cold front,
you are not just the rain,
you are an old tree
in Bryant park
protecting our great love
protecting me in your shade;
and I know God has planted you
and I know that he is great,
but I am thankful for your falling leaves
casting beauty in my face,
calming me down with your grace-
-there is not a more beautiful place-

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.

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-

I reach my hands to touch you
in the worst parts
that you want
but i dont
but you do
but we dont
but we do-
the silence creeping in
just enough to rip my hands
onto you
and onto where you want them to,
heavy hands
heavy breaths
in and out,
tongue twisted between lips
and bad lies,
heart brokenness underneath blankets
and blankets of desire
piled on top of hormonic lusts-

I say that i'm sorry

i'm sorry that i don't love you enough to mean
i'm sorry
and to take away the heaviness
weighing down upon my lips
as they quiver and shake
because i regret getting in the car in the first place.

even all things
formed and hardened
subject themselves to change
and to be changed
for what is
cannot refuse the weathering-
deciding to stay the same
letting the same form remain.

yet they will try
to mask the craters
in their complexion-
some will die
before admitting
some roots have severed connections-
for none like to look back
and see that
what has past
is true;
for admitting all the past acts
or the rough patch
can mean some pain lasts
in their view-

but we are all bruised and cracked deep in our bones
with lasting acts that won’t leave us alone
we were made to break at some point in time
but that doesn’t mean that pain controls our lives-
and even when change leaves us in the dark
and we miss home so much with it’s warming heart,
there is a light shining it’s brilliant warmth
and if we just trust, I know that we can still have life in our storms.

“It’s just the adult thing to do”:
replacing friends with fermentation,
replacing good times with good vibes,
going out to bars instead of each other’s houses,
getting high instead of getting pizza-
It’s what adults do.
You gotta give up the childish late nights laughing
the Mountain Dew
the game lights and the high hopes imbued.
Eventually you gotta spend more time smoking and dealing
and drinking away the bad day
than chasing a good one,
with your friends.
the truth is
you can’t find happiness
and you’re scared
you
won’t
find
it.

was it my fault-


take apart the past_ I wish it never passed.
I wish that the time flew by while we sat and laughed.
and maybe then I’d find the time to finally ask
what I could find that would make you relax-
instead I sit down on my bed at night
and wonder why I never did it right,
wondering why we’re still together,
wondering wether or not this will last forever-

was it my fault-


the words pouring from your lips
before the touch of our kiss
point out that it was my clenched fists
forcing faces to become clicked-
i
was
the
one
who
wanted
this-
those are the only words I remember-
the only words I can hear you say.
I thought you wanted all that I could pull together,
never knowing how far I would tear you away-

Apathy is a killer of children;
Oh great poisonous snake
Don’t you have any compassion?
Apathy is a killer of children;
Anna, Steve, Sebastian,
Will you make it to the kingdom?
Selfish preservation persists
From the inside of each one of your lips
But was it the times that did this?

Or was it the trauma of your siblings both getting arrested
And when your dad started calling your mom a *****?
Or was it the fact that your dad runs the ******* off Kirk
And you spend your days there watching women strip?
Or was it the fact that your older brother dealt drugs
And it was easy enough to get him to give you some,
And now it’s common practice to smoke **** at your house,
And when you feel numb you let yourself bleed out?
Or was that your parents never parented you
And they let you do whatever you wanted to do,
So at eight R-rated movies were nothing that new
And you watched ****** and ****** like daily cartoons.
And where were your parents when this happened to your hearts?
Oh right, they were screaming and yelling till you fell apart
And then doing the same things that they bruised you for
And then eventually not caring if you did them some more!

Was it your parents?
Was it their parents?
Was it this cycle?
Who can bear it?
Who can we blame?
Who will make the claim?
Who can you place all our burdens on and then walk away?
I can’t bear the weight
I can’t bear the weight
I can’t bear the weight
I can’t bear the weight
We can’t bear the weight
We can’t bear the weight
We can’t bear the weight
We can’t bear the weight!

And who’s going to stop and care about Sophie,
Not unstable enough to try to **** herself
But she’s feeling confused and she’s  feeling lowly
And she hopes she can have better mental health,
But the hospital will only make sure she’s calmed down
And her mom and her grandma won’t help her figure it out
And she’s been hurt from therapy and is afraid to go back
To a stranger who’s just there for a paycheck and that’s that!
Who’s hands will stay and hold all her blood
When it trickles down her arms from all her poorly hidden cuts!
Who has her blood on her hands, who is to blame
When her mom kicks down the door and screams her name:

“Sophie I’m sorry!”

Name the killer of children,
Can you name the killer of children?
Is there anyone specific
Who taught them to do this?
Name the killer of children.
Can you name the killer of children?
Was it their parents?
Was it this cycle?
Was it this world?
Was it their idols?
Name the killer of children.
Can you name the killer of children?
If anyone causes these little ones to stumble
Let them be tied to a millstone, drowning deep in open waters!
Can you name the killer of children?
Or do you have at least a spot to bury them in?

put an empty hand under water
and watch it waste away, watch it squander-
let it stay and stay the same, let it ponder
and never do a single thing, never wander-
look at the sink as it drips
never drink never sip,
just stare as the the wooden floors
turn to mold and corrode under sudden force-
turn your eyes away
don't you even look
although we want to stay
we know the time that it took
to be a ghost in the day
but then at night we're a rook
i used to beg to go play
but now my life i forsook-

pinch yourself because the blood wont swell
up high enough for you to smell
that armpit sweat from being too nervous to tell
the truth sometimes, so we hide in our shell
from the growing guilt making it hard to not yell
- but swallow it down, ignore the burdens you felt-


the meadows are nonexistent in southern Florida,
when will i see more than dried up sand-
the forests have washed away into suburbia,
when will i feel green moss in my hands-
when all i know is gone
i know i don't have to beg
- you will twirl your hair like those twirling leaves-
when all i know is gone
i know i can rest my head
- i will keep you here, safe inside my memories-

-when i wake up from my dreams,
i will forget we met.
but if i remember a single thing,
there wouldn't be a second to correct-

i might not always be the best fit
and might not be able to squeeze my edges in
i will doubt myself again
and i will think that someone else belongs where i am-

there isn't enough time in the day
for me to get the thoughts out of the way
to deal with the shame
and the self hate-
as the minute hand spins round and around
i cannot stop myself
from thinking that God's breath was waisted
that he should've made someone else
and that the air i've tasted
should've been ****** from my lungs
something i never should've felt.
i see the sun in others eyes
and worship their beauty
and curse my ground
because the radiating light
from the sun i'm viewing
could never come from my mouth
or my heart
or something inside my stomach
growling for more-
all i do is consume
and drink up the spills on the floor-
i am the dog
begging for the scraps
and i am unworthy of anything
besides that.
besides the moldy trash.

i might not always be the best fit
and might not be able to squeeze my edges in
i will doubt myself again
and i will think that someone else belongs where i am-
because where could i belong!
where would my place be
would i sit beside you
or beneath your feet-

(my heart humbled knows what i deserve
-the worst
-the crumbs
-the feet upon my head
but you pick me up
tell me i'm free
wash me clean
throw me a feast
robe me
and celebrate how you are no longer lonely
for your cherished son
who did you wrong
and spit on your name
is not lost in a grave
but is home-
i
am
home)

Sometimes
at work
I like to lift open my eyes
nice and wide,
to the point where
when I walk
the wind blows
right inside.
It burns,
making my eyes feel like their frying
with a nice crispy batter
coating the juices surrounding my eye *****.
I laugh loudly
and proudly,
knowing my coworkers think I’m insane,
when I’m just a normal guy.
I am finally something more
than just your
ordinary time piece,
ticking by on a concrete
slab-
I am immortalized
through the grimacing look in their eyes!

And

I laugh so loudly
and
I laugh so proudly,
knowing my coworkers think I’m insane,
when I’m just a normal guy,
making them feel afraid,
while I feel so alive.

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.

Your God is nothing but a figment of your creative imagination!
You're nothing but the art of planetary destination,
Destined to return to the dirt that you first were birthed.
Chance had its way with our molecular structure
When one small ball exploded me and you in an atomic conjuncture.
You and I have no God!

Excuse me, excuse me!
No winds or waves
Or night or day
Or time or space
Came from a God that you praise!
We were born to decay, then let our particles die
Until they fertilize and revitalize all the green grass that runs dry.
We were born for the advancement of technology!
We were born to work until someone finds the secret of immortality!

God?
Ha!
What a lonely life of living and loving some imaginary image of a God.
You waste your life with all your "do good" ways
When you could enjoy the pleasures that flaunt in your face!
Woe to you who sit and dream of some God who
Lives to tell you what to do
And cares nothing about me or you!
If God was alive than I have arrived at the conclusion that he's a menace!
He waits for my days to end just to send me to hell to pay my penance.

If your God exists and is so good, than why does he hate me?
Why does he exist to smite me from his sight.
If your God is so good, than why am I the target of his burning eyes!
Why am I the one who's losing life!
Why am I the one that has to die!
Why do I have to die!

If you're out there show your face!
How much longer will you hide from me!
If you're real can't you just show me?
Forgive me, it takes my eyes to believe...

If I had the guts I'd place a bullet through my head,
Because my purpose is to work until the day that I'm-
Dead
- And I never wanted to die.

Where are you, poets!
Where are you, great thinkers of our age!
The ground is the home to your bones,
And I think I'll be joining you soon!
Save room for me in the grass,
Don't spread your dust too wide
For me to find a place for mine.

-What reason is there to be
When I will be no more-

Lets cover it up with cliches,
Dodge the answers before they stay
And melt the lonely ice away
To reach our empty heart, embraced.
The touch of the skin
Is something we never got to experience with.
The smile of love
Was something that we never could think of
Because the world span too fast
Because the world span too fast
Before we could make this last
One more second, one more laugh!
One more little lie to me,
Please, the truth will only make this lonely heart bleed.



Bottle this up in cliche moments,
I knew the winter could never show its
Snow to others in fear of giving
Up too much to the sun who's begging
Her to give her one more smile
And dance in his arms while she dials
The spring's phone number for him to come
Over and pull her closer to the numb
And dead feeling of
Being in love
Being in love!

Oh winter!
You never!
Knew the answer!
You lips!
Put a damper!
On the transfer!
Oh your kisses would've been so sweet!
If you let the ice melt outside of your cheeks!

Flower, flower, I worshiped you
Before you were eaten up by caterpillars.
I remember smelling your perfume
As the wind carried it through the blades of grass
-I'd've  done anything to see you last-
May your memories rest in peace
-If only I'd've let you rest with me!-

-Take me back to my dreams!
To the days when I was young and naive!
To the days when I wasn't so deceived!
So intrigued!
So incomplete!
So intricately marked for defeat
By my hands and  my one disease.
You were supposed to stay close to me-
You were supposed to stay close to me-
You were supposed to stay close to me-
And I let you slip away!
I let you slip right through my heart's dying beats-

buried on a monday next to old man Jenkins
a hot summers day
stillness
course grass
the rough hands of strangers
the sound of wood hitting dirt

         the shuffle of tired feet

the soft patters of rain
the distant voice of the city


the unforgettable silence

The lights on inside the house-
The sound of laughter
Chatter
Stories;
Smells of joy
Firewood
Pine
Memories-

the eyes watching the doorway
            -SHUT-
   in awe of a life wished upon

one summer day

in an attempt to save what can’t be
Anjun begins his faithful quest
to deter tarator’s wrathful hand
and convert the faithless to faithfulness-

-O, lands, air, and flame,
can you hear my plea
for a risen dawn
over the rushing seas?
let my words be planted
like hidden seeds
inside the hearts
of my enemies-

-let peace succeed-

“My dearest brothers
Clothed in roaring fires
Let your mercy meet my words
And may your hatred transpire-
A loving hand I offer you
A loving heart to inspire
Love inside your empty chests
And raise up loves great pyre-

Mercy, peace and grace align
Let mercy burn and mercy shine
And let foes leave hand in hand
Friends at least till timeless ends

Mercy, love, and truest hope-
A twine of thread is easily broke,
Unless to another fastened
It can not prevent the chasm-
So let us tie our hearts in one
And let nations befriend, and with war be done.”

out of true love and heart he spoke,
and from the dark the hearts awoke-
yet
what is put into practice
is sure to follow through-

Anjun had surely come to the end of his quest
With Tarator’s men seeking holy steps
Yet the great Bear ,Neltoc, chief of tarotor, was not easily swayed
Inviting Anjun to speak privately about such holy ways-

Neltoc:
“Anjun, I know your heart is pure gold,
Desiring nothing but what you think is best,
Changing our ways of old
To become new, to change, to reassess.”

Anjun:
“Mighty Neltoc, what you speak is true,
I only seek to enlighten and share new truths.
For a nation cannot truly be set free
Until the leaders release the power to serve the lowly,
Which is what the divine scripture has shown me,
Which I believe wholly”

Neltoc and Anjun conversed long into the night,
Discussing their shared values of their people-
Although clearly it was dark outside,
The light on the inside shows two men, both equals.
The bear and the mourning bird had formed new trust
And had compelled a new start, though still feeble-

but upon the wall a shadow was seen cast,
as a fox moved outside the window
(a fresh zealous disciple desiring to protect Anjun,
in fear was cracking back the arms of his longbow)
but mighty Neltoc was prepared for an attack
having archers on the roof of his palace;
so when the shots into the foxes skin we’re heard,
Neltoc became enraged with malice!
turning now to Anjun with fear and anger,
he asks his newfound friend why he’d done this.

though the mourning bird plead innocent
the thread of trust had already been broken;
so even though Anjun was free of guilt,
the floor confessed his throat had been cut open-

news throughout both nations spread quickly,
waking all able hearts from their sleeping
and as the warriors readied in the cities,
disciples could be heard in Anise weeping:

(the mourning bird
is dead
and the sun
bows in shame
------- watching -------
as they lay a precious spirit
deep in its grave)


ring now the bells of destruction
and weep for the passing of anjun!
here comes the king to silence an eruption,
to destroy tarator and bring about their final doom!

off with the head for who the mourning bird has bled
and lay him dead so that the beasts may now be fed
eating of the flesh which has stolen flesh
and may the bells toll at the finalized revenge!


(off with the head for which the pacifist was bred
and lay his kingdom in the rubble of its death
burning up this weakness that only fire can perfect,
leave none left behind, finalize our steps!)
-
we trust in the power of blood
to write this tale complete!
cowardice has no place
within the eyes of fate,
oh great sword of death, let your glory be our final speech!

out with the heart for which wickedness does start
and cleanse the dark out from where it does depart,
cut open the chest and remove its sacred parts
scatter the remains on the plains under heaven’s stars!


(out with the eyes from which shedding tears are cried
and purge all charity from the lion’s pride
rip open the skin and remove what lies inside
scatter the remains on the plains under the mornings sky!)

we trust in the power of blood
to write this tale complete!
cowardice has no place
within the eyes of fate,
oh great sword of death, let your glory be our final speech!

Blood
Rain down
Blood
Rain down
Blood
Rain down
Pardon all our sins
Blood
Rain down
Blood
Rain down
Blood
Rain down
And in your rain let fate be set!

split open the earth
and let the bodies fall in
as bones seep into dirt
we forget their origins

as the trumpets begin to sound
a weeping wail is heard
for although securing victory
the king's last words were heard.
for as sickness has no allegiance
falling on the good and bad,
though the wicked may be dead
the righteous lose the head they had.

peace returns to the land
but at what perilous price
two cities meet now hand in hand
but at the cost of a lion's life.

im having a good time
im listening in
reading your lines
and listening in.
im having a good time
going blind
staring hard at my computer light
smiling
laughing
enjoying life-

and you ask me
"you ever watch V.R ****?
it's something else man,
you need to try it sometime."

"no, i definitely wont do that"
was all i could say
because the fact is that
many will tell me
that **** makes a new way
a new spark
in their grey hearts
in need of extra blush-
but i see the pain
i know the truth
"but my life is my own, it doesn't affect you"
is all i hear from every single person-

so i'll keep pretending
that i don't care as much as i do
as much as the rage in my heart does
as much as the pain in my mind does
for there is no proper connection
there is only fantasy
and *** loses luster
when mixed with depravity-
desperate love
ruins patient kindness,
and poisons kisses
with licentious darkness-

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.

grandma hoists her paralyzed son
out of bed
lifts his head
shakes in dread
(a grandson, now their kid)-
she takes her time
doesn’t whine
about how much pain it is
-
when they get to the church
she opens the door
struggles some more
because of the strength of her spouse
who is old as death
and out of breath,
moments from his heart giving out
-
so when the pastor preaches
she goes at it again
reaches out to heaven,
all but her husband can hear the sound-
this time with anger and rage
she pleads and she prays,
that the two coffins she built will fill by the end of the day
and her two burdens will be stuck in the ground.

i just want to feel
something

i don’t want to be found
wanting

so as i climb my tower’s
walling

don’t pay attention to my lack
of care, i’m not falling-

i’m not
climbing down
if you can’t find me
don’t look around
-i have climbed my way
with no help from you-
i’m not
calming down
if you don’t like it
just ignore the sound
-I have found my way
with no help at all-



-at the foot
of your lonely tower
i will wait
just in case you tumble
i may not
have been there every hour
but i won’t leave
just in case you stumble-

How many more days will blood be the solace to your ever beating heart!
How many more days will those veins explode in order to comfort you from your harm!
How many more days will pain be the way that you keep your self safe-
Or I guess just killing yourself to make all those memories go away...

I don't know who you are and I don't know what happened to you
But giving up never gave me any hope nor any truth,
And I regret all the days that I tried to use my pain
To make everything seem like it was okay!
Because nothing could ever give me quite the escape!
Nothing seems to ever quite help my life change!
No amount of drugs or blood or lust or shame
Could change my sad desolate life of black stains...

And I remember wanting to die-
It wasn't just once-

I remember thinking that if I had the courage I might just put an end to it once and for all,
For all to see and for all to awe!
Trust me, I know what it feels like to fall
And to fall from a place of security to listening to echoing halls.
But I found some hope behind my black walls.

And that's a love that for some reason brings more peace than anything I've ever seen!
More than anything that I could ever dream.
And that's the love of a God that will always be holding you close to him in your sleep.
And I can only imagine how many people have given you reason to hate him too,
But I can promise you that he cares more than anyone cares about you!
And that there is nothing that you could ever do
To get him to stop falling in love with you.

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.

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-

how can i take the sun and crumble it between my finger tips,
or master the earthquakes and pin point their movements-
swallowing the earth in blood and fire-
preventing me from falling back into the slow jaws of fate.

when will the rocket white noise end their sound
and all that got thrown  up come crashing down
when will i get some sleep at night!
i beat my head to dull the noise just like i beat my wife-
-******* dreams
******* dreams
the sound of the nose-pain bleeds
******* dreams
******* dreams
"shut the hell up girl, I'm trying to sleep!"-
watching memories
fading elegies
grey smoke drifting from throat capturing common greens,
floating entrance fees
shaken masterpiece
master of my home mastered by the firm grip of the enemy
demonic force chain to the pentagram imprinted on my shattered knees-
chain smoking crack to the rhythm of grandma's record sheets!
gun to my temple to help the war and his buddies flee-
when will my mind empty itself of me-

to try and stop the bleeding in my vessels
we wait for the pressure
our pounding bit of pressure-
you sit there doubtful
every smile's a lie
all you are is crumbling inside-
reaching for the cabinet doors
spinning- hoping that stopping will leave you cold on the floor
all the tile is still keeping you warm
going down is a pain, but with a happy reward
oh, the drugs never have a plan to restore-

-dad why'd you have to go
why'd you have to leave me here alone;
i know you watch me here below,
what will happen if i let this page close
-gunshot, blood stained escape way
through the lead through the head space trade
open wide for eyes to see through the hole made
dead daughter on the counter with eyes wide awake-

momma calling son
"useless waist of taken up space-
not worth the cost of my thoughts on your unseen face
disgraceful to me, wish you weren't my son
wish i went to med school and didn't sell out so young
should've never listened to your daddy's song
telling me to pack my bags and cuddle up in his arms - wrong!
never should've
could've could've
maybe i would've
maybe i will
maybe i am
i am
i am more than a woman attached to a man
more than a mom attached to a hand
more than a ring wrapped, a wedding band
more than cable, dishes, pots and pans
more than a ceremony anniversary plan-
i am
i am
i'm gone"-

son go waist away somewhere where my eyes don't have to be glued
to the scene as life takes yours away from you, leaving you dead and blue-
you're already dead to me, so go die somewhere out of my view
and bury your own body, i wont waste my money on that, i refuse.


-it seems as if my heart laid heavy with messages of missing families,
missing homes
missing hopes,
Christlike lovers with smiles on picture frames leaving holes
where they were meant to never leave, never left alone
yet moms walk out on families like this is the time to take a stand for what they own
yet dads think that they could get away with abusing their kids, maybe those bruises would never show
and maybe kids wont think much of living in two houses with two separate phones
two different schools, new friends, old friends, divided in somber tones-
"just do it for the kids, honey
they deserve more than me or you know
let's do what they all do
fake a smile
fake a frame
fake a while
fake our names
pictures on Christmas will still look the same"
"and once their gone?"
"we can burst into flames"
thinking that the kids don't notice
the long fights
the late lights
the long talks
the late walks
the long drives
the late lies
the bright screens
the loud screams
the doors slam
the house stamp
the long sobs
the long jobs
the moving boxes
the missing pictures
the blood on moms dress
the couch blankets
the magazines
the hidden lingerie
the missed calls
the bottles of wine in the back seat of the mini van
the adjusted seats
the drunken steps
the fake parents-
the fake lovers-

teach them about Jesus
"make sure to teach them about Jesus, ***!"
just as long as they don't see us
"hide the masks, they might not believe us, ***!"
tell them not to lie
tell them not to curse!
What's worse!
me saying a ***** word!
or hearing you say "i hate that stupid *****" then finding blood on her shirt!
make sure that you don't miss church!
because being perfect includes calling your kids worthless and letting every moment burn!
and we burn for this
too many drinks and dad becomes an alcoholic
watching me beaten trying to know the pounds and then call it,
betting with my brother on how long till i become black
falling on the wooden floors just after he breaks my back-
my dad was a pastor-
and how many more families will i watch fall apart
before someone gets a grip that you lose more than you are-
before someone figures that it's not worth all the pain,
not worth going days without seeing your daughter's face-
will we still love our sin
or will our families get more than the scraps from last nights affair-

-when will God be our source and not our self medicated needs
when will we stop being overcome by defeat-

At times I'm as high as high can get,
I'll let you know, so don't forget.
I'm lost in the city of my mindset
And somewhere between life and death.
I tell you all I can tell
But when the opportunity comes I know that I'll sell
And get rid of the words that I spell
Until I empty me out of myself
Until my brain starts to swell,
Oh I know this all too well.

I can't remember when my hat wasn't full
My head's so big it should have it's own capitol,
And can't remember when I wasn't incalculable,
Having no care was something so masterful,
-And disaster-full -
I wish I was a kid sitting down to play blaster ball,
Because on days when I sit and think
I think that thinking only brings me closer to the brink
And I sink into the very thought of starting to sink
And I drown myself into thoughts even well into sleep!

I was a kid way well into life cycles
Too bad I left it alone with my bicycles,
Because I'm driving around like I'm driving without a head
And the only way time stops is if I'm lying dead.
Oh I know time too well,
Oh ask him a secret, I know that he won't tell,
Oh I'm sick of selling out at the sound of the doorbell
But time has me chasing it's tail like it's a jail cell.
Someone save me from time and it's cartel,
Before I end up like those who couldn't tell when the floor fell.
I know time too well,
I know time too well,
I know time too well,
I know this cycle of time in a nut shell,
Someone get me out of this cycling stairwell.

-Sunday, the twenty second of February-
I held a sunflower in my cold hands
For the first time in twelve years-
I cautiously stroked the petals
Like a small child holding fragile life in his palms,
Knowing that with one slight pull he could crush
its very existence-
I smiled-
I looked up to the blue sky and thought of you-
The way you hold me in your hands-
I placed my yellow sunshine in my breast pocket,
And I began to think of the way you've carried
me through this Florida weather.

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.

Somebody talks to the wind
And chases it as if it will give in.
Somebody runs through the trees
As if somewhere along the lines
He could escape this life;
All hope to escape his lies.
Somebody keeps a secret and tucks it away,
Somebody puts it in a white box and covers it in clichés.
Somebody writes a letter and pens it with black ink
As if his markings start to sink
And hide his hidden mask he sees!
Oh what a temptation to take a peek;
To open the letter before it's time to read;
To run through the grass before the time of spring;
To drink all the wine and have nothing to eat;
To take the best times and leave none left for dreams;
To spend all the days wishing to have another;
To count down the time
Until
The
Very
Last
Number.

-In the end it wont matter whether we ever made it,
Whether the grass was greener or stayed forsaken.
In the end it wont matter what we stole and we got,
We will disappear into the earth, and we will be forgot.
The only thing that matters is when I go and transcend
That my love for you was constant; it was until the end,
For what a tragedy
For me to breathe
Without giving you my breath-

truthfully
you will never see me
the way i see you
and you will never forgive me
like i do-
because
we are different you and i
different grass
same sky
different heart
different minds
different understandings of riddled rhymes-
and you will try and see me
and i will try and see you
-truthfully
i do
see you-
but that's not enough for one to be seen
and heard
and understood;
there has to be a greater blanket
to cover up good
to cover up blood
and to hide all the wounds-
but as you cut in deep
you stab me too.

take the open door
because when you look back
realize the broken path
you will fall through the depths
and slip into the deepening cracks-

when you look inside
you will see what you like to see
you will find what you came to seek!
and when you get what you want
you'll find that the door was closed for the past three weeks
to hide the stench of the bodies stacked
-the guts hidden behind the hopeful crusted lips
words spoken and never heard
forgotten before they ever stirred-

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-

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-

we
carried
the
weight
for
so
long.
drying
up
our
tears.
carrying
­each
other,
we
traveled
throughout
the
years.
i
look
back
in
sorr­ow,
watching
sorrow's
grip-
but
the
best
part
about
growing
older­
is
leaving
all
of
this-
so
let's
leave
all
the
past
behind,
even­
though
the
past
is
missed-
let's
take
new
hearts
and
share
them
­proudly,
let
us
never
now
forget!
-the
greatest
hope
we
have
foun­d,
leaves
now
inside
our
chest!
with
open
arms
to
other
cries,
we­
give
them
this
precious
gift.

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.

don't understand
words, consequences
for
the everything we are
searching
something
than ourselves
something
than we know

Tomorrow
I love you
And I wish I
Could hold you
But tonight
Has me choked
In this noose on my neck-
Kick out
My new stool
From under
My two feet
For tomorrow
I'll meet you
And you can finally kiss me!

-don't be afraid
"the little voices simply speak in retrospect"
don't be afraid
"death is only just a dream, just too complex"
don't be afraid
"if I was honest I would tell you this is best"
don't be afraid
"go now before there's no time left"-

don't
let
the
devil
take
your
mind-
his nails are all long, and he'll dig them inside!
cast
him
out
before
you
rise-
he will try to **** your thoughts with his lies!
take
out
your
sword
and
cut
him
out
tonight-
tomorrow can't wait, we can't waist much time!
trust
that
the
light
will
hold
you
tight-
His shining grace is enough for me to stay alive!

The mind
Is my
Worst feature-
My imagination
Turns me into
A new creature-

I will-
Foam at the mouth till I get what I want,
And weep to myself when I finally have it-
I will-
Disperse all irrelevant relevant details,
And give myself up to bad habits!
This drug of fantasy
Will bring me down with it’s dark tendencies!
And like Justin and Reece used to sing,
I am confusing my lust for these fallacies!

Images!

You cheat me till I’m bone dry!
Desiring to weep, but I can’t cry!
Wanting to give up, but I can’t die!
Wanting to move on, but I won’t try!
Wanting all that I can’t have!
Dreaming of decisions I could never take back!
Hoping for things that I could never ask!
And I
Push it on my wife like it’s her task!
To feed the demons of my dark soul!
To fill this void, this bottomless hole!
And when she can’t, I will grasp for control!
But I’m the one that needs to let go!
So I sit in misery of my thoughts!
And hope that the words I say can be forgot!
Images will cheat your eyes, your heart and all that you’ve got!
Until you’re at your lowest point, broken, distraught-

a stone will be hewn,
placed above the head-
written upon its cold stark view
the names, the dates, a lasting word said-
we will wonder
what will be placed above our dug out slot-
will there be words to say
will there be words or not-
but the only thing
upon my troubled mind
is whether or not
the earth has swallowed up your body-
soul and mind intact,
or has your spirit taken flight,
and i
watch the sky
and watch the clouds open to
to welcome you inside.

We are the stories of the dark and obscene!
"Hello I'm a poet, and I'm here with a dream!"
Well aren't we all just some conjured up mess of contortions!
We all want to be the super hero's for the lost and the orphans,
But we draw our endorphins from our pain, it's our portion,
And we'll publicly portray all our poorly painted portraits.

Dear writers,
I hear a lot about your cravings for emotion,
But not a lot of wisdom.
In fact, I hear a lot that that's all that you want back,
Because apparently it seems to me that you think emotion is what you don't have.

We all think we're great philosophers with great philosophical functions!
We all think that our words are more than our biased made assumptions!
Well let me be the first to say that poetry is for nothing.

You're not a poet until you go to bed at night dreaming you never wrote it!
Poetry! I wish I never got to know it!
It's the only thing still dragging me down to hell!
It's the only thing that keeps me locked in a rusty cell!
Dementia has become euphoric to me, and I still don't know why!
All I know is I've tried to **** my poetry, but it still will never die!

Well I'm honestly not much different from you.
What makes my words more intellectual or imaginative than yours?
I guess I'm too selfish to admit
That I still don't know exactly what poetry is
Or how God intended it.
I like to think he created poems to show us his beauty
In all things, even the dark.
I guess I've done a bad job as a poet
If I am still in love with God, and no one knows it.

Correct me if you care,
But honestly who are you, and tell me, is it fair
For you to tell me
That you know the meaning of poetry?

I sit here and stare hard at the words that I've scribbled so forcefully
And the smears of the ink all over my hands.
What is the meaning of these meaningless struggles
To empty my mind of all these hateful words?
Maybe I just needed someone to blame
For all these years of anguish and frustration.

The grass is still growing,
It's cold in southern Florida,
Yet I'm still bitter.
The flowers are blooming again
And the whistle of the breeze
Is resounding throughout the hallways of my ear canals,
And the sweetest tune you could ever imagine
Is caressing all my aching muscles.
Yet still, I write things about how my life is in shambles.

If this could be the last poem I'd ever write,
I would praise God for allowing my last words to those reading
Be about how the figment of hatred that we've masked around our faces
Is nothing but wrapping paper with black paint
Covering that sweet gift of peace.
My last words to you are that I'm not wise,
I'm not as great as I think I am,
And I honestly am in love with this wonderful life God gave me,
And the peace he brings me everyday.

you can only bury the bodies for so long
until the ground has no more room
and they leave their homes
returning to the surface
to find you,
alone.
when they find you in the bedroom next to your wife,
the skeletons walking out in front of her eyes
will wake her, shaking all their parts and cry
out the hidden reasons why
you buried them
alive.
it's like life is trying to throw up,
but you keep swallowing until there’s no more space
to store the putrid sludge without
bursting out, dripping from your face!
swallow all you want to
but all the acid will only rise
until the time of bursting has
arrived.
so speak out!
cast your ***** into the ears
of those who will hear it!
and pray that the shame of speaking your poison
is strong enough to prevent you from
crawling up close
near it!

“make sure you make it big,
and worth it!
because the last thing you want is to
die young
feel empty
chase the wind
and stay where you are-

I know death comes to me
unstoppable
unwavering
focused on its path of contact,
ready to grind my bones
until all that’s left is a weathered stone-

nothing will stop what comes for me,
so I will take joy in making it small,
not worried about the end at all,
for the wind will blow and call
and all I can do is let myself be carried away
until my path is interrupted by a hot breath
and I disintegrate.

so whatever you do,
make sure that it counts in your heart
and not in the eyes.

I roll out of my bed with my lips dry clamping to the side of my sheets
Like the sand clings to the side of a wet cheek and refuses to leave
Without first scratching your skin, unless you brush with care-
But then that just gets it everywhere
And all over bedroom floor
And all over the room
And the tub
And the bathtub mat
And somehow in the bed.

I rip my skin off of my lip because I have no more motivation to lift my head and turn my neck to try and see what this world has to offer me
Because
To be honest I’m tired of dragging myself out of an eternally cursed sleep of finally escaping what this life and my work and my toil had to bring,
I am ready to be rolled over, nailed down, lowered, covered, and then lulled to sleep, and thereby escape the day’s tolls that bring me crawling back into my bed
Dreading another day
Dragging my feet.

keep the doors shut,
keep them closed.
when the wind blows, don’t let them open,
don’t let the doors go.
the knocking sound calls you to open up,
but don’t let careless emotions show!
keep the doors shut!
no matter how many knocks you hear below!

keep the doors shut,
keep them closed.
when voices start to grumble inside,
it’s tempting to let world know.
feeling like a hero?
maybe like that open gate’s a grove,
where people will be safe inside,
where people will find a home!
get rid of all your lies!
your words could never bring them hope!
keep the doors shut!
for they will always choose that rugged road!

-keep the doors shut
because opening them
only lets the darkness in
every time your try to show the light-

-keep the doors shut
because mosquitoes make their hives
right outside the walkway light
and come inside in expert time,
enough to **** your blood-

-keep the doors shut,
for being a symbol is a wanton game,
a desire to be held the same,
praised and pulled in every way!
don’t you love the spotlight gaze!
and the feeling of a voice heard in a moments daze!
your words plastered on some expensive page!
it’s good enough for a pleasant date,
but turns your heart into a bad omen-

give me my way-
my deep down
my “prayed for” today
yesterday
every day,
the needs that never seem to find a way
to be met-
give me my way-
let my hands
grip firmly
to the waist line
squirming
and let me do what I do best
what I obsess
to posses
and undress-
give me my way!
because I have given way
long enough to have earned the right to say
that it’s my turn
my earned
my deserved
time and day,
so don’t delay
because I’ve waited a long time to have this moment
where I can be selfish and take
instead of give
and feel how living really is-

-what a mistake-