Cast out were his alien dreams;
Aspiring and confident he did leave.
Fiery ground of thunder burnt his home;
As he alone cast out for that void,
perceived through his singular glass dome.

Adventure had caught him lonely
But peering out from his craft
his pupils did glow!
Circling fiery molecules hovering to and fro!
How could he now transmit and show
Reflection of scale small and macro!

Fumbling, his fingers did try
To articulate the machines
Imprinted of his native language.
"Calling Cpt. Crow!"

Sending the signal the results did show
A break in the wire and a fuse did blow.
Barricading that soul far and deep,
A minuscule solar flare
Emanating a glow!

And from that earth looked upward team and crew
Saw idle in that gigantic void a singular golden hue

Distant but true was the connection they all knew.

This is a story I started to write about 3 or 4 years ago and still working on it.

The Great Journey
By: Tyler Jenne'

Chapter 1: New heroes

    There once was a small town known as Nightville. It was one of many small towns that had been split up from one big city. The king of nightville was the ruler of all the land. He became one of the most fear rulers of the Ancient city. As he sat upon his throne while the execution of 3 criminals was about to commence. These 3 criminals were Tyler, Paul, and Aren they were being executed for committing treason against the town of nightville. Before the execution could get under way Tyler asked to speak with the king. As the guards escorted Tyler, Paul, and aren to the king they noticed a shinny spark outside of the castle walls. The guard said to the King that 3 prisoners wish to speak to him.

    My guards tell me that you 3 wish to make  a deal with me to lesson your charge of treason said the king. Yes if there is anything that we can do to lesson our charge feel free to ask answered Tyler. Now that you mention it there is one thing the 3 of you can do for me replied the king. I have a little problem that you might be able to help me with. Sure what is it replied Paul. This kingdom was once part of a Ancient City. And something of great value was taken quite some time ago answered the king. It's called the Ancient Artifact it is what give the ancient city life. I have a friend that will help guide you to your destination.

    How far do we have to travel before we meet your friend asked aren. He is in the Majestic forest of Tieranorith replied King Goldencrown. All I can say is that you must travel through the rigorous valley of lost souls, but beware of the treacherous orcs lieing within the brush of the valley. How do we know if we'll be going the right way asked Paul. Trust in yourself to guide you through the valley. There is only one way to go and no way you can get lost answered king goldencrown. You are no longer criminals you are 3 brave warriors under the command of King Goldencrown. Now off you go and may your inner spirit serve you well and guide you to the safe haven of the ancient city.

   So as the  3 friends rode off on their horses towards the majestic forest of tieranorith. The roads were rocky and rough as the friends traveled through brush and rubble of Old Nightville. It's nothing, but a wasteland said Tyler. Just remember if we do this our debt to society will be erased from the records of the justice court of nightville said aren. We must keep moving before it gets dark said Paul. The 3 friends found a cave to rest for the night so they could have enough energy to resume their journey. Little did the 3 friends know, but orcs were slowly creeping up on the 3 warriors. As the friends woke from their slumber they smelled something foul in the air. Oh god what is that awful stench asked Paul. It smells like something died or was killed in the night. Yeah I smell it too damm that stinks answered aren. I smell it too, but it doesn't smell like something that was killed in the night it smells like a grotesque creature that is hiding from the light replied Tyler.

   Above on the mountain top far away a shadow like figure watch the brave warriors continue their travels towards the dark valley of lost souls. He sent his minions out to get rid of the brave warriors. Knowing that there was already a pack of rabid orcs and wolves on their heels. Minions seek out the leader of the orcs and bring them to me shouted the shadow figure. As the minions set out to join the rabid group of orcs in ridding their land of the brave warriors. Meanwhile the braves warriors reached the valley of lost souls. It's so dark here said Tyler. Legend has it that there was a great battle waged in this valley replied aren. It used to be a grand arena where they had brave gladiators fight to the death. They must have been brutal battles here replied Paul. You can still see the blood stains in the sand. Whoa did you guys feel that? asked Tyler. I don't feel anything replied aren. Yeah me neither said Paul. I could have sworn I felt something had gently brushed me on the cheek said Tyler. Maybe the heat of this valley is getting to me.

   Halfway through the desert filled valley the brave warriors look at each other in awe at the amazement of carnage left from a ****** and brutal wars. Holy crap look shouted Aren. It looks like something is up ahead. Whoa that's weird replied Tyler. As the brave warriors looked ahead and kept moving forward they could see a bloodshed of dead bodies lieing in their way. Oh my goodness what happened here asked Paul. There are bodies everywhere answered Aren. The bodies were mangled and hanging off of tree limbs. We have to keep moving said Paul. The brave warriors climbed over the dead bodies thankfully they made it to the end of the valley of lost souls. As the sun began to fall the brave warriors stop into a dark forest. This is interesting said Tyler. Let's get some sleep and in the morning we'll explore this odd forest. The sky was dark and lurking in the darkness orcs were getting closer and closer to the brave warriors. As the wind began to blow the trees back and forth the orcs jumped to and from the trees with ease. The next morning as the sun rose from behind the great mountain.

    High above the great mountain was the shaman of the north. He had kept watch over the brave warriors since they made their way through the valley of lost souls. It shouldn't be much longer until they reach the majestic forest of of Tieranorith. I only hope vaiking hasn't sent his minions out after them said Matthew. As the brave warriors woke from their slumber they looked around at the forest. Wow those are huge trees said aren. I can see a giant mountain and at the top of it is what looks like a church of some sort replied Paul. Halt who has been tresspassing through my forest asked King Anthony. I'm Tyler and these are my friends Paul and Aren. What brings you into my forest? asked King Anthony. We are in search of an ancient artifact replied aren. Oh yes I remember a long time ago when the ancient artifact was used to power the ancient city, but again that was a long time ago replied King Anthony.  So the story of the ancient city is true? asked Tyler. Yes very much so answered King Anthony.

    Your forest is amazing said Paul. Thank you I come out here from my castle when something is troubling me replied Anthony. Does anyone know who would take the ancient artifact? asked aren. Many of the rulers throughout the ancient city believe it's vaiking who took the ancient artifact replied Anthony. You may not have realized it, but as you walked through the valley of lost souls you passed through a invisible portal that only can be seen when the artifact is back where it belongs. Do know of vaikings where about? asked Paul. No replied Anthony. He was once a member of the great council within the ancient city. When there was a disagreement between two parties. We would take it to the council for final deliberation.

    Is the great counsel still active? asked Tyler. No replied Anthony. After the artifact was taken the cousin siece to exist. There was no reason to keep the cousin in effect since the city is revolves around the artifact. Who do you think might know where the artifact would located at? asked Paul. The shaman of the north might know replied Anthony. He lives at the top of the great mountain.  You must know that the artifact isn't one specific thing, it was broken into six pieces. Without all the pieces the ancient city will stay in darkness. Ok got it get artifact bring it to the ancient city to restore the life of the great counsel and the city said aren. Before you leave take these horses for they will help you get to the top of the great mountain.

    As the brave warriors left the forest heading north towards the great mountain. Still unaware of what was following them orcs were leaping from tree to tree. Who's there? asked aren. Is someone out there? What's wrong aren? asked Paul. I thought I heard something moving through the trees replied aren. I'm sure it was just the wind blowing through them said Paul. Maybe your right replied aren. Let's keep moving we are almost them to the great mountain. The brave warriors rode towards the  mountain on the horses. Riding up the first giant hill of this mountain was taking its toll on the brave warriors. Higher and higher they scaled the mountain. How much longer till we reach the top asked Tyler. Another day or so replied aren. The heat of the sun was beaming down onto the brave warriors. Water  I need water gasped Paul. Here drink from my canteen said Tyler. Thanks man I needed that said Paul. Your welcome replied Tyler.

    To their surprise as the sun was beating down on them a white flake fell from the sky. What the hell is this asked aren. It looks like snow answered Tyler. It was indeed snow falling from the sky, but not because of the gods above. The shaman of the north had cast a spell causing the snow to fall. He did this to help the brave warriors keep distance from the orcs that were behind them. The orcs still followed the brave warriors from behind, but not on the ground. they continued to swing from the trees.

Only to their surprise they were dropping like flies and hitting the ground  with much velocity. The ground shook violently to the core leaving not a trace of the orc. Let's find some cover before this blizzard topples over us said Paul. In here replied aren.  Into a cave they went not know what they would come across in the process. Lets rest in here for the night said Tyler. I'll build a fire replied aren.

The snow fell continuously throughout the night. The weather was treacherous to the point of barricading the entrance to the cave that the brave warriors were in. Morning came and the brave warriors woke to total darkness. Holy Crap what happened to the light said Paul. It looks as if the snow came completely over the cave entrance and now we're trapped in  here replied aren. I'll light a torch for us. Let's go this way there has to be another way out of this cave. The brave warriors made their way through the dark and wet cave.

     How much longer until we see another way out of this cave asked aren.  I don't know replied Paul. Let's keep moving if we stop we'll lose momentum to get back on the trail towards  the great mountain. Time went on and the braves warriors felt as if they had been in this cave for months even a year. Dude we really need to find a way out of here said Tyler. It's going to be ok man just calm down replied aren. I think I see something sparking in the corner over here. The brave warriors had stumble across a shiny piece of metal. ******* it's the first piece of the artifact said Paul. Cool let me see replied Tyler. I think I see some light up ahead. As the brave warriors kept moving forward the light became brighter and brighter the closer they moved towards it. They reached the area of where the light was shinning from. The light was coming from a wall of some sort. When the brave warriors pushed on the mysterious wall it opened to a room of what looked like was once a part of a castle from the roman era. There in the middle of the room was a mysterious hooded figure. Your travels have finally brought you to me for more guidance said the mysterious figure. Who are you and what do you want from us asked Paul. It is not what I want from you, but want can I help you with replied the mysterious figure. Not knowing that it is Matthew the shaman of the north behind the hood.

      The brave warriors scratch their heads in curiosity they think to themselves The has to be some sort of reason for us being able to survive all the obstacles we've faced in our journey for the ancient artifact said aren. Yeah, but it's not like this guy is the reason for us surviving the weather answered Paul. If he was the reason we should asked him why he has helped us make it this far and also where are we right now. You may be wondering who I am and where you are said the hooded figure. Yeah we were just thinking that answered Paul. My name is Matthew and I am known as the shaman of the north.  It's nice to meet you I'm Paul and these are my friends Tyler and aren. I know I have watched over you from the time you left nightville replied Matthew. You have many question and I have many answers for you. I know you wish to know where you are.
We are standing in a castle that used to be one of the many kingdoms within the ancient city long ago. Also you wish to know the time period you are in. When king Anthony had told you that when you made it through the valley of souls you passed through a portal into his forest, well that forest is part of the roman era. So we are in the roman empire days asked Tyler. Yes replied Matthew. The days of the roman empire are far from the glory days.

I remember when the roman empire was at their highest of having soldiers up to 300 strong. Did they have many wars during their reign asked aren. They did more so against barbarians that had came from the north replied Matthew. At that time the roman empire didn't have 300 soldiers, but enough to defend their lands. Again it was a long time ago, but the sands will forever be stained with the blood of the brave roman soldiers that defended their land. Anthony told us about vaiking and how he was once a part of the great counsel is there anything more you can tell us about vaiking and his part within the counsel? asked Paul. Ah yes vaiking he was once a part of the great counsel replied Matthew. He was second in line to be head of  the counsel and when things didn't go his way in the election for head of the great counsel. After that vaiking became obsessed with gaining the power of which that position held. He swore on the lives of everyone children and families that we would all pay for our decisions. Well does anyone know what happen to vaiking after his breakdown over power asked Paul. Last we knew he was building an army of orcs and minions to destroy the great counsel answered Matthew.

      The council decided to evacuate everyone within the ancient city take them to an unknown location to keep everyone safe from harm Matthew continued. After vaiking broke down about not getting the top seat of the council he swore that he would bring pain and suffering upon all those who conspired against him. As vaiking walked into the darkness with nothing more to lose the sand storm that ran through here destroyed almost everything and everyone. Soon thereafter no one has heard from or knows where vaiking disappeared to.  Many say he was swallowed by the sand storm and he now hide within the darkness where he stays because of the shame he brought to nightville. That must of been awful for him to feel betrayed by people he thought he could trust replied aren. Maybe a part of him did feel betrayed, but nobody felt more betrayed then the ancient city did answered Matthew.

We must leave for we aren't safe here there are orcs following you. they've been following from the very start of your journey. The four friends set forth to continue their journey of finding the remaining pieces of the ancient artifact. Still the orcs and minions were hot on their trail. Some orcs were riding on wolves where the remaining orcs scaled through the trees. The lead orc was one of the most dangerous orcs ever to ride on a wolf. His name was drake and nobody could match his strength. With one fell swoop he could lay waste to an entire group of soldiers with his mighty axe. The axe blade was made from harden steel and the base of his axe was carved from the trees of the majestic forest of Tieranorith. Someone let  lord vaiking that we have the shaman of the north and the three brave warriors in our sight ordered Drake.  As his fellow orcs sent word to lord

Arriving at the entrance of the ancient temple the white rabbit covered his ears. Shattering glass from a high-pitched vibration he leaped away from a falling chandelier.

“I must find our beloved Harvest Moon."

The white rabbit said to himself. With stern affirmation, a dark fog churned then into the vortex he was consumed.

He stopped at the entrance of the temple courtyard; everyone was frozen like statues.

"What has she done to all of you?"

He cried, then pulled out a magic rune deflecting a hail of daggers. The white rabbit looked up at a floating cocoon and saw the shadow witch hovering over the temple roof. Pale skin and veins glowing red, she was draped in a black tattered robe. With a sinister look and a Crown of Fire on her head the shadow witch spoke.

“White rabbit, white rabbit the Harvest Moon is dead!"

The white rabbit took leaped back then cried out.

"This cannot be so!"

Then he pulled from his bag a magic scroll and read the words written in gold.

"I ask the wind to protect me from this dark magic despair"

Then he conjured a circle of trees in a water globe. The witch streaked across the air and swung around her jet-black hair. Then she commanded an infestation of spiders to climb inside the trees and explode. Barricading himself inside a magic bubble he was protected from the onslaught of shrapnel. The white rabbit grabbed the water globe, leaped into the air, and disappeared in a puff of amber smoke. The shadow witch pulled out a blood-red pearl and murmured an incantation.

"Clever white rabbit, I shall find you in the invisible world"

The white rabbit snapped his fingers then magically appeared behind her. He snatched off the Crown of Fire from her head then whispered the following words.

"How dare you use dark magic on me!"

She jumped in fear spinning around, then summoned a devil hound. The white rabbit raised the water globe and merged it with the crown. A shock wave of light pulsated in the air then the witch menacingly yelled.

“Take him down!”

The white rabbit saw in his peripheral view the hound lunge to attack. But he was too cunning for this, with a symbolic wave and a vigorous slash the hound was severed in two.

The shadow witch glared, then cried out.

“We shall meet again white rabbit; I promise you I'll be back!”

Then she summoned a fiery cauldron and vanished with a blinding flash.

The white rabbit ran inside the temple and approached the Harvest Moon. He stared with eyes full of tears and sorrow at a beautiful princess with hair long and blue. A beautiful creature he so desired, the love he had for her was true. He opened his bag and pulled out the globe which was now encased with the Crown of Fire.

"I brought you a gift from the shadow witch"

Then he smashed the globe and with a flash of light, the Crown of Fire was finally free. The white rabbit held the princess and spoke.

"I have always served you because I love you and now, I command you to come back to life!"

Then he placed the Crown of Fire on her head igniting a ring of light. The white rabbit looked down to see the Harvest Moon Princess opening both of her eyes.

These scars are my battle wounds
a reward after a long troubled battle with myself
but I won in the end
a symbolic trophy that my struggle is nowhere near over
I am left with the scars
scars where once a crimson red river flowed from them
scars healing over making dams barricading the red monster under them
to feel the sting of the blade in my hands once more
a natural high
the dams don't stand a chance against my new weapon of mass destruction
they will crumble and open at the very touch of the metal to skin
they have to
I have to feel that sensation once again
let the dams break open and the war begin.

you know? i'll stop being so empty sometimes. i'll fill myself with words, so they will be dripping down the carefully creased seams of my lips and dents in my cheeks. i am tired of margins and paragraphs to box in what i have to say. i'm ready to let things out like a destroyed dam barricading a swift, roaring feline river; distorted reflections of the day racing past.  i am a goddess with dripping hair and naked skin, you can't stop me from feeling. i feel with my soul i feel i feel I FEEL and i am alive. i am the start of morning, i am red tinged and purple, i am the end of the afternoon, dark skinned and starry. i am everything that this universe is made up of, and i intend to be that way till the very earth splits my bones and drills my skull, and my skin droops tiredly to the ground. i am whole, and i am divine. i am eternal, like the dust scattered across the milkyway, and *you can't stifle me.

he met her at a very strange time in his life. no, scratch that. that was basically a quote from fight club.

i.
but frankly, he did meet her at his lowest lows
when he wanted the vortex to **** him in so he could vanish and rest and maybe find peace-
for his girl was gone and left him to fend for himself in this chaotic world, scattering the past, present and future they’ve dreamt of in a hurricane before she did, one that ****** the life out of him
his girl, the girl of his dreams, the girl he dreamt with, the girl he dreamt for, the girl who shattered his dreams gone

ii.
he slowly opens up to her
and she slowly gets to know him
well mostly, his love story left to die with its tragic ending, another tale of an unrequited- now one sided- love
she doesn’t really mind for she’s known pain and misery,
known them enough to last almost half of her lifetime
she knows how having them as company turns living into the art of merely breathing
and so she refuses to take flight from this almost stranger who, because of the way circumstances have rolled she’s stuck with
misery loves company doesn’t it?

iii.
he has turned her into his shoulder to cry on
changes taking toll with time’s passing,
yet their connection remains constant,
their unexpected friendship unfazed
two people with the same wavelength, gliding with the same frequency,
relatively similar to soulmates
and they could end up together in the snap of a finger, voila
as easy as how random they picked up
but nothing easy is ever worth having

and try as they, she might,
it seems like it can’t be


iv.
she’s always there for him
she’s seen him cry, beat himself up enough times
she’s aware that he could be quite a handful
perhaps ignoring his constant “i need you’s”
and “please don’t give up on me’s”
and evaporating one day into the air and blocking his number would be the best option;
letting go could be her salvation
before she chooses drowning over keeping her head up for one particular boy-
she’s the one consistently found on his side
she’s the one with the 2am jokes when the world decides to act as his shadow
and the one with the random spur of the moment topics that never fail to amuse him

v.
sometimes he’s left wanting to lose the remaining sliver of hope he has for humans
so he makes her out to be just like everybody else
on those occasions when he wants nothing more than bottles of ice cold whiskey and packs of cigarettes from dawn to the late night hours, to cease existence
he expects her to appear and announce her leaving
and he’s left with this internal satisfaction all the time when she lets down his morbid expectation that she’s given up on him
she remains on her place in his life

vi.
but maybe she’ll never be the girl

even if she’s always with him,
always nagging him to get out of bed
and live this ******* up thing disguised as life
even when she becomes this bright light trying so hardly to outshine her darkness and his darkness
even when she manages to see the good in him
even after she lets out her “i’m here for you’s”
and “i won’t leave you’s”
and “i got you’s”

she’s still not the girl
there’ll always be this wall,
barricading the distance
no matter how little between them
all the while the lines get blurrier

vii.
she confuses him enough for him to get a grip
and even feel in the state of denial he’s locked in,
really looking through her remains his failure
even after it all, majority of her is still invisible
somehow she’s still a stranger,
just strangers who because of their own messed up loneliness,
bared their souls out to each other
and their needs and attachment
get in the way too soon blinding them,
thinking it could be something more,
something it’s not

viii.
strangers.
maybe that’s all they’re meant for

Civilization is founded upon one-dimensional thinking: monotheism, monoculture, monogamy, monopoly, monotony, mono mono mono... one day soon i'll quit my job, throw away my phone and steal really cool, expensive 3D glasses. After all, eyelids are the only thing barricading our dreams from reality.

As I sit on this assigned desk
ears drooling with institution gel
I swirl on the seat, the wind pause
Musing in evangelised dilemmas

Lobotomised to jerking veracities
Sagacity amateurs boost egos
Stooping and stooging in asylums
Barricading others progression

Regressed losing solid grounds
Jurisdictional custodial supervisions
An infused scent of propagandism
Scenes of robotic observational modelling

Unprincipled to insist on another destiny
Calculating targeted risked predictions
Regulated to invigilate and unroll a matrix grid
Who am I? To forge his,her or their trench

Jumping over the dark mahogany railroad ties that my father laid down as a barrier, I entered my favorite place. Bare toes and rough feet of my 9 year old self burrowed with joy into the wood chips that cushioned my kingdom.

The entire area smelt of damp, rich wood, always freshened by the honeysuckles sweet scent from their lazy seats on their wooden fence in the background.

My castle was wooden as well, 6 carefully and lovingly sanded steps up onto the throne where I could watch all I reigned: my dog, the four railroad ties barricading the wood shavings from spilling into the soft green grass, I could see my family inside, my house not but a quick dash away.

As the sun set, down the wooden slid and back onto the damp ground I would return inside. Smelling of bark, honey, and innocence.

i'd like for you to fight
as i would fight for you
(if i could)
had the plates of my armour
not resumed the shelled perfection
of cowardice

i'd like for you to
fight
throw fury-fuelled punches
at  the barricading fists
of something like fate

i
i'd like for you to
fight
curtail the cold blow
of circumstance
trump those phantom forces
dear destiny
every rigid bone man has erected
to create something tangible, cheap and ephemeral
of love

i'd like for you to wait for me
as i would wait for you
had i the certainty
the certainty of
a  gallery of your faces
Vivid and quick to the frantic reaping
Grasp Of recollection

I’d like for you to mirror my gaze
Resurrect unfiltered feeling of  affection
And woe begone worship
Tormented to swoons of silence
By cerebral guard with their spears of reason
Before it could reach the parting gates of my lips
I'd like to you to resurrect these thoughts
With the elixir of your tongue


Speak the words I dare to think
I’d like for you to fight for me
Wait for me
add premise to the promise
Come claim your rightful throne
In the hierarchy of this heart.

Fluorescent blossom upon the midnight sky
Aiming to arrest the coruscate stars
Expecting they comply, though, forevermore denied...

False luminous blurs, nothing more than barricading bars
Try... Try, their brightness painfully cries
And so, brilliantly surpassing inadequate set pars

Truthfulness glimmer on... I beg you never die.
Unending navy blue, gorgeous deep yellow stars
Your lying sky... dulling the perfect natural sky as it lie

They said to always be honest
So I tried not to lie
But it seems that we would rather be ignorant
Than face a harsh reality

They said to always be honest
Even when the truth hurts
But my words fall on deaf ears
As you refuse to listen

They said to always be honest
So I told you how I felt
But you laughed and turned away
Cause you didn't want to help

They sad to always be honest
So as I am tying this noose
I want y'all to know
All I needed was someone to here the truth
Instead of barricading themselves in a world of lies

She said
“Oh you’re such a ******* comedian”
and I laughed at her face
I believe the term is
more than kinda *******
did I ever tell you the one about the
cynical poet with a substance abuse problem?
I know I have a punchline somewhere
in between all these smudged lines of ink
and then she said,
“You over think too much. Just shut the **** up and live.”
and I didn’t say
I live to think of you just shutting up and letting me *******
but instead I went with -
you are probably right. Let’s take a shot
it was a shot in the dark
no I shot the dark
for all the nights I spent barricading my closet door
because I am vindictive at times
and you are so full of vitriol at times
I call you little miss snake bite
and I’m allergic to antivenom
“again with the jokes. When was the last time
you said something actually real?”
when was the last time anybody said
absolutely anything?
“Sarcastic remarks again, huh?”
you’re **** right smarty pants
Then we got drunk
a risky proposition I found myself facing
you swaying to music I couldn’t quite hear
THAT made me nervous
I’ve always been terrified of turning ******
then you said,
“What music?”
and that made me feel a little better
knowing you were possibly
a little ****** too
did you ever hear the one about the
probably in way over his head love struck
funny poetry guy?

A moment is never singular, exactly; it is obvious nothing on This Earth lasts.
Even with a God, People obstinately search somewhere to ground the spar tree,
The focal point, the axis, the Self.

Molecules have been examined down to Music; infinite harmonies taking perceived shape,
With each element ever-changing as our senses are tuned.
Particles are waves of color, our own hand turning the kaleidoscope.

Vainly a self-deceit of lasting solidity harbors the illusion of power to hold fast
the fluidity of this cherished existence, like collectively barricading a levee
between our perpetually sinking firmament and the inevitably rising sea.

Ink fades; paper burns; stone crumbles.
But imagine by tenacious persistence we succeed in preserving at least some thoughts,
In digital binary a corked message hurled over entropy into a hot, dry future.

Comprehension itself would surely evolve away,
abandoning our I's and 0's in their past,
bits scattered from a broken bottle useless in a windy desert.

By dumb luck our toes have kicked the dust from remnants, mysteries of the Ancients.
Sandblasting time has reduced their instructions for miracles down to perplexing sketches,
littering a roofless sun-baked labyrinth of echoes.

Visitors land in Athens engulfed with a feeling of great excitement in the air,
Renowned for its rich history, it is as if Greece is waiting to lay it's soul bare,
The cab driver's effusive welcome is prelude to a magical experience in the offing,
As he regales you with the city's historic landmarks, seemingly without stopping

Made of limestone rock, the Acropolis means "high city" as it is atop a hill,
Visible from almost everywhere within the city, it is Athen's sentinel still,
Dedicated to goddess Athena, it originally showcased buildings colored lavishly,
Transformed later into a city of temples, after destruction by the Persians savagely

For inhabitants, it was a place of refuge in times of invasion due to it's location,
Women barricading themselves in the fortress in mute protest was just a distraction,
Depriving their always-at-war spouses of worldly pleasures was a way of having the last word,
Such acts of frustration were so successful, that it is practiced even in today's world

The star attraction of Acropolis is the Parthenon that stands out in majestic splendor,
The resplendent marble structure being the epicenter of religious life is no small wonder,
Columns leaning slightly inward give the illusion of true straight lines and a lifting effect,
Remaining in use for a thousand odd years despite ravages of time, shows it was bereft of defects

Awe-inspiring Parthenon is a tribute to the innovative imagination of the talented Greeks,
It was geometry at its best sans extensive calculations, inspired by passionate geeks,
To make a line look straight, it had to be tapered or curved - a tenet of site mechanics,
Fitted together like the world's heaviest jigsaw puzzle, the massive columns seem titanic

Scenes of mythical battles can be seen in sculpted marble metopes in the Parthenon,
Tribal human Lapiths combating savage half-man, half-horse Centaurs are depicted spot-on,
Stage-wise motions of horsemen getting ready for a cavalcade are convincingly conveyed,
Goddess Athena's birth from the head of her father Zeus has been beautifully portrayed

The Erechtheion sits on the most sacred site where Poseidon and Athena contested,
Athena's olive tree growth trumping Poseidon's spring gush is a fact to be digested,
As Patron of the city, Athens took it's name from the victorious Athena,
Erechtheion is still considered the real religious temple in the present-day arena

The theater of Herod Atticus below the Acropolis built by the Romans is a majestic marvel,
Chunks of aesthetically designed arched structures are fodder for the mind to unravel,
In use even today for concerts, ballets and cultural performances during the night,
It's breathtaking view from the elevated Acropolis is a photographer's delight

The rock of Areopagos that is below the Acropolis, is a picturesque location,
Panoramic views of the Plaka, Monastiraki and Athens, leave little to imagination,
Climbing the slippery steps, the vaunted locale is ideal for a glorious sunset view,
Watching the city lights at night is a great way to wrap up the day without much ado

From the northeast corner of the Acropolis, one can see Athens city stretching out endlessly below,
Viewing Plaka's ceramic-tiled rooftops, Hadrians Arch and Lysikratous street makes one want to bellow,
The giant Temple of Olympian Zeus ruins and Olympic stadium can be seen nestled in pine covered hill,
As a visually stunning island of green in a sea of concrete, the view admirably fits the bill

It is with a cocktail of emotions that one meanders back to Athens city at the end of the day,
Topped with awe at the sheer brilliance of the minds of Romans and Greeks in their heyday,
Generations will be on the learning curve while gleaning facts from the rich history,
The multifarious reasons for the Acropolis being so popular can never be a mystery

I can no longer sleep at night. The reason is unknown to me. Some nights I could sleep for days on end if my body would let me, but then there are those nights where I cant get a blink of any rest.  My emotions seem to run ramped when I am wide awake, no sleep to over take me. The demons like to come out and play then. The darkness is their playground and they will never pass up an opportunity to come out and play well with others.

I cry over you, you and you. The confusion when you left, the emotional wreck you put me in and the heartache when I lost my best friend. Three times I have fell in love and three pieces of my heart forever taken with one of them. One day I could see myself never loving another soul ever again. I may as well be a stone figure perched upon a grave, forever crying. I have nothing left to give to anyone.  I am emotionally numb.

I am falling back into my native roots. My old friends are knocking at my door, wanting to come in so badly. They want to help me. Help take all the pain away, but the reason why I don’t let them in is because once they’re in, they will never leave. Last time a miracle happened and they left but I know if I let them in for a second time, they will just barricading themselves in one of my rooms. So, I let them keep knocking. Their knocking begins soft, slow with sweet words escaping the lips of lies, but over time they start to get louder, stronger and harsher words. They scream now. I do my best to ignore them by distracting myself with other things but it doesn’t work. Curled up in the fetal position on the floor farthest from the door now, I clasp my ears shut with my quacking hands. Pleading to God that he keeps me strong.

Kayleidh. The name repeats several times with in my head, over and over. My day seems to just drag by in such a fashion that I think I may start to go insane. Thinking of the years I will be missing watching you grow.. kills me. It tears my heart apart, ripping it so painfully slowly.  I remember the day you were born, your first words, walk, friends you made at church. I hold the very few pictures I have of you, dear to my heart. I cry dry tears for you when I am numb. I know the truth about your real father. How he beat your mother, my aunt, when she was pregnant with you. How when you were barely three months old he threw **** at you, spit in my mothers face while protecting you in one of his drug rages. How we had to steal your mother and you in the night from him to save the both of your lives. But whats funny about that, I bet your mother will never tell you any of this. She will pin my family as the ‘bad guys’ and feed you lies.

could my restlessness
just be little earthquakes
calling for tremulous gestures
like a flick of a string
attached to
the puppet's lifeless wrist
wherein lies the
constantly turning nebulae
satisfied only by the
empty obsidian space
a spattering of crystal
on midnight whisperings

my bed clings to me
a parting lover
or perhaps a parasitic twin
bound to me by flesh
our surgical silk bond
rope veins lashing us together
tied in perfect boy scout
honor badge knots
sharing my blood that is
now our own

why does the throbbing nothing
seated right between my temples
cry out in agony for
the stillness of a deep sleep
and yet rages against
my fluttering eyelids
hummingbirds on honeysuckle
scattering to dust
at the coming nuclear winter
that ever consuming fission reactor
at precise center
pointing true north
the exact point within me
where each other position is
equal distance

i write to you
somewhere out there
a beautiful part of that world
a string in the tapestry
that no theory could ever define
i write to you so you can know
that i straddle the brick wall
barricading this world
from the ever-present storm of chaos

half of me is woven to you
but half of me is still being pulled
by the unfathomable gravity
of a black hole

I slog through this museum of people living their best life.
I hold my phone tightly.
Like an emotional support animal,
Cocooned in my bed.
I dig through people's lives like someone stuck in an avalanche.
The only movement I have are my fingers, swiping.
My body groans as it realizes it will be frozen through time.
It's 1PM and I’ve been awake since 6 AM scrolling.
It's hard to breathe, I can feel the weight in this Sarcophagus I built.

I force myself to focus in my own lane.
I can see someone had their heart broken,
It stands out in a crowded room like a glow stick.
Everyone can see your pain.
Everyone knows that we have been there and they regretfully have done that.

So let me stay on my island,
Barricading my insecurities and tucking them into my vulnerabilities
Until you can't see what’s hindsight with my 20-20 vision.
I’ll pile my damaged goods till it seeps out of the storage boxes with childhood toys in my mind
You will see my mind will grow calluses that built this lighthouse on my island
To let people know that I am damaged goods.
So steer clear, find your cargo elsewhere else.

So let's hear it,
What makes you think I can trust you.

To the right of my mind
a stuttering shudder stroked
into a conjuring trick
mist and fog precluded
with eternal density

Giving way to a definite
bypass of emotion
sitting, wondering, hammering
for the solution to troubled
senses that gripped in tight fists

Gradual senseless doubts
fogged up the highway
skidded into black icy fear
the foghorn sounding its blast
Announcing its brazen load

Keep me safe in corners
despite their black features
poking at me, barricading
my tomorrow with segmented
troubles, woven in pin pricking motion

Grinding statues were still
age transforming their limbs
into crumbling confinement
I struck out and rallied
them, together we circled

Transforming our once isolated
innards into sharing heart
shaped sentences
heard by those who chose to hear
and found droplets of hope

i still remember times when boris yeltsin governed russia,
and that televisions  didn't have a remote control,
not that i'm being nostalgic as such, more a case
of admiration for the antidote of the theory
of biological evolution, the technological evolution
is much quicker, more changes in a blink of an eye,
i can look at myself as a dark ages' citizen that way.
then i open a book, and look at the world:
in words printed on a page
i see more stability than elsewhere
(even thought language, in akin relation
of comparatives with chemistry... is the most
volatile substance know to man... it's like
lithium dropped in water, most of the time,
as is due to casually phrase: inflammatory speech),
reading is the experimental focus
of a sense of stability, the letters
are laid, there on a page, and do not move,
like two rows of chess pieces either
side of a game waiting for the prologue
of either pawn or a knight, jumping over
the stiff first line of pawns:
in chess the pawns represent the narrator,
the slaughter will come, the end will come,
lucky the pawn to see off a checkmate,
but all the characters: whether knight rook
bishop queen or king are akin to the novel's
interaction of characters... the narrator a coastline
of patience and negligence paired
exposes the key emblems of the game...
slowly the eight dimensions of narration
are reduced to a frail disguise of the centre-piece,
indeed two rooks knights bishops apiece,
but soon the most manipulative piece
(the queen) is taken off... here the metaphysics
reveals that man is the weaker ***,
not a strength of a black widow or a mantis,
man the weaker *** carved from abstraction
thus being revealed...
hence the only source of man's strength is derived
from solitude... women the frenzy of shopping,
barricading each house with cooked rather
than raw meat, with even the cheapest paintings
as opposed to barren walls, all the little
idiosyncratic dips of the tongue into the most
amusing honey that's just it:
fear the tears of a woman, for in them
lies the narrative of wrath...
and no heaven wide and hell as deep can convince
a woman to act otherwise... it only took
Helen of Troy to masquerade her beauty
with a thirst for blood of the countless men...
fear the tears of woman, with woman's tears
comes her wrath... which is paradoxical when
woman becomes a mother...
only child-rearing can appease a woman's
status and the delicacies she understands to be poison
when her status is still angling a look
for the potential nest-builder for the womb
inside a womb of a private life...
those women, who are not wed and are therefore
potential philandering ******... they're the dangerous
ones... all others, upon settling their debt with
the ultimate freedom become, as it were:
caring... fortunate enough to gain with only
one golden eye socket on the ring-finger
an insight into man's whereabouts prior
to settling down...
but women who force such a fate upon any man
will turn the man into a woman she once thought
she was: barren and horrid and fiercely scorching
with inhibited fire...
that same man will show her her true self
in that essence of the collective: all woman as man
in each uniform, prior to the creation of character
with choice between each experience,
as unitary in such a sequence as is deemed necessary...
but fear a woman's tears, they might as well
be called crocodile... a drunk's tear when appreciating
beauty, only because too stone hearted sober...
fear a woman's tears... they're fake...
and are riddle with a subsequent onslaught of hate:
a blind man's retribution.

i have not felt for some time now,
my barricading skills are better than i’d like to admit,
and i cannot remember the last time i stepped outside of them.
i misunderstand the difference between conquering, and suffering
because in one,
you win,
and in the other,
well,
it is easy to be swarmed with grief.
i wore grief like a badge.
but in both,
to conquer you must suffer first in order to know what you are fighting for.
i have yielded nothing but emptiness in my hands as others swung their daggers and swords
scraping my surface as prologue,
then finally slivering down to my bone as epilogue.
but my story is not over,
my barricades are crumbling stone by stone
and maybe my sun will shine again,
but i am a force to be reckoned with because queens will conquer,
and my legacy is just beginning.

i kept my mouth shut
and my eyes closed
when my limbs were pinned to the bedsheets.

i dreamed the dreamiest of dreams
when
i needed to
forget the feeling
of you inbetween my legs.


your sheets.
sticky.
starchy even.

cotton waves that tickled my skin
and crashed over me.

my hands pinned.
like the games you use to play with your brother,
to see who was stronger.

his breath on your shoulder.
cold.
huffing
in your ear
as his icicle fingers traced your skin.


it wasn't supposed to be this way.
your body seems to chime

you shiver and shake

scared or cold
it's all the same.
never seemed to matter.

he tears off your skin
and eats it
as he finishes with you
he wants you fully naked.
fully humiliated.

you crumple into yourself
arms wrapped around you like wings

you were ready to fly away that night.
but for some reason you didn't

legs to your chest
fetal position
proved nearly fatal as you lay next to him that night.

waking up next to that boy was the hardest thing you ever had to do.

the only witnesses to the crimes he committed on your skin
we're your legs
and they wouldn't stop shaking...

it's a bit chilly.
but you warm yourself up anyways
and throw on your clothes.
paint
on
a smile
and
  choke on the denial
after all
that's the way they dealt you your cards.

you were never good at keeping your poker face
or a straight face for that matter
but
boy, oh boy
did you have them all fooled.


hello. world.

it's me,
another unstable,
teenager.

open your presents,
act shocked;
what a supprise.

hello.
world.
   you will forget me.




just let go.

just. let. him. go.

but he stole the only thing of value to her
and
got away with it too.

that silly heart thief, that silly life ruiner.
that silly boy.


he got to get everything he wanted
and

didn't even look back.

so why should she let go.. why can't he give it all back..?


so when she cries,
and she cuts herself open.
sheds her skin for you to see
and spills her guts.

just know it's not her at this point, it's second nature

to
try to be whole again.

she never will though. she knows it.
the nostalgia will always be there and there's nothing she can do to get those memories back
and there's no where left to run
except straight back into his arms
straight back where she started
and
she might as well be walking backwards because she isn't making any progress and here she is again spending another night crying on the bathroom floor

she wants to tell the truth to you
she wants you to know why
she cries.
and gets scared.
but she settles for the bathroom tiles

she mumbles against the cold floor
lips trying to move but can't

she's holding herself up
barricading the walls that are just too weak

but these bricks and these lies are just too old
and these arms just aren't strong enough to hold the weight of the world anymore.
so
she crumbles
and she fumbles
and she folds
and her whole empire has fallen down around her..

she still sees you around town
and you can't help but rub it in

so
tell me,
what the **** do we do now.

now that we've ruined this place

now that you've ruined this heart

now that i have no where to go

no one to love

and

nothing to be.





i guess i can't expect you understand.

any of you.

i guess i can't expect to get it either.

but for some reason

*i do.

for some reason i do.

I took absolutely no pleasure,
Though I indulged.
That in the pleasure of temptation.
A sense of dread setting in once all the pleasure was gone.
Hidden from which I found through true pursuit.
Isolating myself to a single thought.
I found myself unable to change, chasing the thrill of pleasure.
I thought to myself was I this selfish.
To dance in the rain soon as melancholy shown it's head.
The drops splashing against the crinkles of my face.
I soon grew to admire it.
This self perpetual motion that insists that I go in constant circles.
A unlikely comfort that insured that I pursue even further.
What was this disaster,
Finding my reflection to be more than a mere crutch.
I looked left, then right.
Losing understanding of what brought me to this place.
This certain happening.
This part of me that must die. This certain part of me that's clung on to you for so long not knowing what is real, and what isn't.
Between you and I, I had no clue which harmed me the most.
The fluorescent thought of needing you more than you needed yourself.
In actuality it was simple.
Barricading myself in a room to stop this foolish act.
Somehow you'd still managed to appear.
I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I wasn't waiting for you.
The conviction shown against my reflection waiting at the window.
Awaiting your touch before I went into a coma like sleep.
I grew resentful towards the bright light.
Choosing to sleep all day, coming to life at night.
This part of me must die.
This ache that was only quenched by your touch.
I couldn't lie to myself anymore.
Committing myself to the asylum.
By tomorrow would be too late, regretting every delusion I've made to tear myself away from you.
Your reaction once you've found out what I've truly done.
Not only did I tear myself away from you, I've made myself welcome to the touch of your everlasting dark.
Such terrifying figures the dark makes once the light cuts off.
I feared sleep as your face was the only thing I saw.
My complexion terribly pale.
Just what have you done to me, seeking some kind of justification
I checked myself in hoping to lose sight of you.
Only to find more of you in each patient.
Each day I spent in here I found my face turning more pale.
I was indeed becoming a ghoul, concerning myself with one thing.
A source of some kind of help was needed.
Finding myself arguing with the vampire girl in the lunch room over her red Jello.
The way that it skittered in slightest motion.
The way that it looked while it dripped down her fangs.
I felt like the plastic cup that held the snack filled serving.
Here I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and you were nowhere around to offer a helping hand.
I took no pleasure in removing myself from you, but at the same time
I cannot live without you

Your name wrung
between the lines of
fresher tender cuts.
Brushing a slower finger
over dusty pages,
disturbing untold stories
that was long untouched.

Your name is
the tap-tap of hammer nails
and the crimson consummator.

The barricading name,
of the mesmeric temple of apologies
molded by unequivocal agony and anger
lying in the bleak moor
laced with your remnants.

My mind is left shambled on the floor,
shards of memories
now leaking as exudate
am I being inflamed?

If I were to paint this across the canvas,
it’d be red, blue then purple
a galaxy with mismatched constellations
on a rippled fabric of night skies.

If I were to ink you to paper,
tracing you in black
you’d diffuse, cry and leak
into a pool of red,
dripping at the edge of the paper.

You are the cactus
pricking with every temptation.

The one engrained in my figmentation
wrapped in lessons
coloring the pigmentation of my skin
with various hues.

You are the open wound
with the fabricated scab.

You are the name
that rings inside my head,
echoing through my memories
trembling shakes, tremors
through the cronies
widening the past a little
more within me.

Theres a victim acting
only in her curves has she sufficed.
The wrong man with fists
his avowed promise
you couldn't live without him,
despite being the third  party
th­e other woman you remain -
so across the Atlantic
barricading your dreams
acting for the first time with perfection
but the baggage  returns
the beaten path,
your  bed of self  destruction.

lately the days have felt — long;
long with a touch of sadness
but this touch leaves more than a fingerprint;
an imprint soaking into the depths of my skin
like a drop of dark ink spreading through
a glass of once-clear water, now poisoned.
while the nights feel cut short,
the darkness fills me with bittersweet comfort.
it is calm, cool, and quiet and i am as content
as i am when the sunlight kisses my shoulders,
the warmth eases my tired soul
but it does not remove the ache in my chest.
the crackle of vinyl records
spark long awaited inspiration,
yet no words form and
no image paints this blank canvas.
an artist stuck in their own mind
does not make them less of one,
however,
the emptiness is a haunting void;
a sickness barricading creativity
from the so desired expression
craving to satisfy a blooming universe;
an overpowering slump — thick tar covers me
i am unable to move; it squeezes tighter
as i try to escape this entity
i want to scream but i choke on my words
while gasping for a small breath of air
i sink down
engulfed and surrounded
i regain composure as i close my eyes and drift.
the morning will soon come
and the song will repeat once again

There's a brick road
Barricading my sight
But, nothing is for me in the distance
Nothing but a colorless sunset
It's only vibrant of black and white
I hold my cigarette up and squint one eye
To replace the sun
Because the embers are my warmth
They ignite the nicotine
Destined for my blood
They produce the smoke
That will probably cause my premature death
The thin layer of  snow crinkles under my boots
As I walk over to my old Elementary School playground
I sit on a swing and let my feet drag
The chains are icy
Its dead silent
I toss my smoke to the white powder
Then laugh.
It looks like ******* *******.
****, it looks like ******* *******.
I'm the last left.
Friends moved away,
Others OD'd
We couldn't trust each other anymore
Not like we used to
Not like when we first all met here
I was on this swing actually.
Tommy and Sarah came up to ask for an opinion.
Do little girls have ***** like big ladies?
We were **** out of luck from the start
Even as second graders we were sadistic.
Throwing rocks at the fat kids
Kissing under the slide where teachers couldn't find us
I cant feel my face
I don't want to be the last one
I pull out a cigarette
This is my last one
I better head home

Bricks building
Walls forming
Guarding
From pain,
Disappointment
Guilt
Concrete flowing
Cement shaping
Barricading
Love,
Joy
Happiness
Gates locking
Bars blocking
All alone
Just like I wanted
Fear held back
All alone
Unable to live
Because I can't
Care
Can't love
Can't even feel-
Afraid of pain
Sure
To come.