I am sitting on a broken branch

under the drug addled canopy of insecurities and lies.

I am feeling the steady sway of an oxycontin daze.

Walking slowly through a ketamine daydream that pulls at my core

like a phantom puppet master controlling my limbs.

It crashes into my brain like the breaking waves on the shore.

Breathing in nicotine filtered filth as I wait to catch a breath of fresh air.

Lungs filled with recycled tar that prevents me from gasping.

In darkened corners where lies sleep and rumors are hidden,

I wait.

I dance on a tightrope between conscious and subconscious

that is held by reality and dreams.

Dark sunglasses on to avoid

the blinding stinging light of what is real.

Mirrored glasses are reflecting the reflections back at intruders.

Deflecting glances, shifty eyes, and dilated pupils

searching for a focus point of truth  

in a neon technicoloured blur of hypocrisy.

The background blaring horns blended with a steady bass line

mimics my heartbeat.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

The fading noises pass quickly,

highlighted with insults and curses of hate and gossip

that are forgotten before you can make them out.

Spun truths turned into lies

intermixed with resin

left from yesterday.

The litter paved streets break under my heels.

Click clack. Click clack.

Broken and cracked

like the false promises

And hopes

And dreams

of those who have walked here before.

The monotonous pace is repeated

only pausing to notice the gum under the stiletto

that fails to hold her in place

as she runs towards the wet cement that has replaced

another sheet of cracked concrete.

The wet cement that has covered another lie

in order to show the simplicity of fake appearances.

A reminder of how easy it is to replace and mask

the hate filled holes that get trampled on.

The flicker of hope is suddenly unseen

like the street light lined alley that is now dark.

The stench of garbage, decay, and rotting flesh

is mixed with expensive perfume, sweat, make-up, and spilled *****.

Garbage cans are filled with the leftovers of last night.

A *** stained dress with no owner draws no attention

as the sound of snapping latex is muffled

by the screams of ecstasy that rapidly fade

like the fleeting feeling of MDMA.

Thick white ****** fluid oozes out like human glue

in an attempt to mend the lack of connection.

Strangers intertwined in hasty conversations

waiting for human contact to forget

that they are in dark alleys.

To forget

that they live in dark places

where no one lays down wet cement.

The distorted reality of alleys deceive passer bys

into thinking that they are not menacing

has been weaved like a web by street sweepers and garbage men.

The pressing sense of the need to avoid the sweepers

is unsaid but felt.

They falsely clean what will always be *****.

The *** filled backstreets yearn for love

like the treacherous woman guarding its corner.

Daddy issue lined dresses are asking to be undone

just like her lost innocence that can never be mended.

The issues and clothing that can never be fixed

abandoned on top of garbage cans for someone else to pick up.

Patches of dead grass are left

untended, unwatered, and unwanted

waiting to be replaced by wet cement.

Wet cement that soon enough will crack and break

under the heavy heated pressure of the stomping heels

of lost Girls in a desolate city.

Blood trickled trails are left behind

that have dried into the cigarette lined streets that lead nowhere.

The injured egos of men are left to linger at back doors

that will never be opened.

******* induced insanity whirls around a flurry

of whispers and paranoia wanting to here the Truth

between the spewed anger and rage of the low toned hushed voices

that wish not to be heard.

Whiskey hinted murmurs pressing on the sidewalk cracks

knowing that they will never be heard.

Looking into the dark where

Truth will never be seen.

The constant beat of narcotic users searching

for salvation in pre-packed bags of white powder,

digging for redemption in empty bottles of multi-colored pills.

Screaming through the silence,

They are not heard.

The desperation can be heard through the whining moans

of the junkies that are tethered to addiction.

The over whelming sound of

Want and Need and Lust

move through the streets like the overflowing gutter water.

Heartbeats are replaced with the impatient pacing of

her stilettos waiting for her pain to cease.

Stilettos stomping on broken dreams

waiting to cross broken streets.

She gazes at the other side as if it is different.

Stilettos tapping on the street

waiting for the firm grasp of a sweaty hand to distract her from reality.

Waiting to be touched

And grabbed

And ******

                                              In hopes that love will arise from ****** ****** encounter with

strange men in uncomfortable places.

Clothes are feverishly removed with the promise of

flesh on flesh enveloped in a hazy cloud of body heat

that warns off the internal coldness.

Heavy breath and touch and kiss release chemicals

to replace the drug depleted emptiness.

The rhythmic sound of rubbing flesh mingles with

the moaning of the streets.

It fuses with the short lived pleasure laden moans of

lonely people and un-climatic *******.

Awkward silences are brief as the sound of her heels owns the street.

Click clack. Click clack.

The sound of stilettos on cement hurriedly walking away when there is

no longer a need for his body heat.

That unmistakable click clack click clack

on uneven, *****, dangerous streets.

Red lipstick smeared stains are the only trace of her that is.

That is the only trace of me that is left.

Click clack steady on the street.

Steady like mimicking bass line

Click clack heartbeat.

The crunch of broken glass under the stiletto

echoes her broken dreams.

Click clack.

Head held high never looking at the ground as she walks forward.

Click clack. Click clack.

Click clack.

The urban mud of

Wet cement goes

Squish!

under her stiletto.



V.Mata

russia
the mother of the love was cindy. she lives as wari and has no longer power. her beauty is renowned and she should rule.

argentina was the land of dd but mexico was goal and it was dana's land. dana is alive but needs to take control.

germany was grand and elsa was their king. elizabeth will rule. william was leam and harry was star. charles was ruu.

venice

the leader of the wall must take the city down dunstable will rule but row must take command (paul p) just lift the iron up and drink the holy well. paul (row my) must lead the way and let the city fall like jerico to row.

sibelius was chief his love could control hell. his land was mexico. he will return in 100 years. for now his son razor must reign. razor reigns already he was always strong with his power.

anthony (anthony p) is still rome. druididous stole from anthony. italy will love his power. his father still lives. he was known as tora. he will always save his people every time. (anthony and cleopatra).

simon (simon d) was the bell of the dance. his land was the guard of the law, his saviour was the christ.

palastine was oscar's (livin christ) land. he loved the people first and then the chosen leader. china stole his heart but his mother's magic eye was always the greener for the dome of the bar which was his mother's land.

syria was kim's the turks obeyed her law and her partner simon rice was the lord of undeceived. (kim's favourite sword - immaculate) kim would only ever give land to someone who beat her in a sword fight.

pakistan was morrow. morrow still lives. i will give him pakistan tomorrow.

laura (y) was time of space. her land was always persia. she always controlled the south and gail (r) did not deceive.

gail was the haunted skull. her wind would launch the sail. her seas were ever brave and her love was always true. persia (north)
was her heart. never steal her heart.

spain was not my son he was never in my life but portugal was spain and gavin (p) was their king.

the catharsis will run and run. i will never be deceived the gate is always closed for love is in our hearts.

england

gina (p) was our queen her lands would always flow. china stole her heart but england was her throne. ( i would like gina to come back to china to bend for the corn) gina's mother was druella in the ancient times.

david (b) was the king, he was the lionheart. he was our favourite king and no man could deceive.

scotland

gavin (p) was the james and diamond was his jewel. diamond is his wife and he must now command for nothing could corrupt.

stuart scotten was a scotish noble.

michael never ruled but no man thought he should his love was always wine and wine should not be loved. (as usual we will give him the principality of lowe as a gift so he does not destroy everyone).

serbia was the good, the love that jesus saw. give my son his thone. the love will be believed. in ancient histories serbia was known as dela. (see note lower serbia is now held by lassa and tal as guardians of the land below mount denar.) serbia and palastine must live in peace now the jew is gone who wanted to hurt palastine so much her people were forced south.

ok important note. we believe serbia was originally dunne but he always wanted land so he was not allowed back to earth. his lands were south of mount denar. oscar/ the christ/ the livin held after dunne left the earth but it was eventually agreed serbia below mount denar would be loved by tal and lassa as guardians of the land.

iatilahhomanne is the blue sky is yugoslavia. his wife is doran. she was his love. his old name was swee. yugoslavia is west of tee and north of do or die generally it is where teem is now. (old dree) their language was hebrew their god was jesus. the jews wanted christ to be their god not their christ. it is easy to find yugoslavia of the old world it is next to dree (ethiopia) and west of door. we believe they were also palastinian descent in the old world.  

pakistan was blue, she gave it to her heart and lassa always rules. lassa is alive give him his power back. no man then will grieve for joshua is back.

australia is madam it must return her power she knows the paths of peace and lives as mary rose.

newzealand is (d) (not good) madam must take control or ruby (a place) will aspire.

america is (d) she seethes to take the land. her hatred scalds and scalds it was berire's land. berire was the chief his land was mule and strike the karaoke's scream i will protect his thone.

orinoco should control his mind is always lead he knows no dark of heart and all his love is treve.

treve is always beth but she was ian's soul. please leave me ian's heart and yours should be atol.

atol would not be right. orinoco always marries beth (yet again). gail will not marry jet.

jason (rye) was no fool his lands were israel's heart. he loved the soul of rule but simon (d) could command.

kirby was the goo, india his throne. he was the amicable man his love was always christ the taj mahal he built and that was his home.

ian

i only want to love one girl, her name is beth. her love is like a bird that listens to the sky and then listens to all my love for her.

denmark

denmark was lasa at the dawn of time demeter is the rule and she's the queen of time. demeter now is young she is the queen of time her land is do or die and masa must command.

esotonia

was the house built by the sea it was eric's house and he was the son of the man he was the love of the life and he lives these days as stan.

france was warren hall but i must now be true. please give my catherine (m) land for aragon must rule. she was also in the ancient history joan of arc.

venice
paul (p) row my (principality palace in tlau.) dunstable took paul's money.

laura y (south china) it was the bys that took laura's money.

mowh has saved the word in china but as usual she tried to take power and had to be destroyed..

in venice beth was cocyo (the giver of bliss)  ( row cocco)

stav in south china is oscar's principality. stav is where oscar (the livin) is always happy. tao (ian and my son) loves to live in lowe.

the emperor of berling (north west south china) should have been. martin j. his brother originally drim dra dro was originally the prince of lowe but when i gave martin his territory in berling nick j became the prince of toi with the principality of toi. this was true in ancient times. martin was known as jo.  

orinoco was the emperor of china. the world was the waiting because the love would always be good.  

skybird drew was ray son. drew were the rightful thone of japan. the drew meant the solace of the earth.

gina in venice was tray.

ian's mother was fred.

eusebius was the poet of the heart.

eri (y) sometimes marries the man of the water.

michael is the guardian of the keep. i will always love my true.

helen (v) was the lover of the vine. she was chinese but had no throne.

claire was jezibel.

david was dow and fun

dunstable was char the feather of the water. he stole row fun.

in venice
eri was elea
laura was dezibel
gavin was cla

i have accepted as a gift a principality province in tithale.

kim of indonisia was the man the people loved. kim of the creator. we used to call kim the good man of our lives and the gentle spirit. everything of his goodness is returned.

our love was the strength of the world.

solace was drew. drew was the noblest family of all.

laura (y) was the mwang the rulers of the town and they were always princes.

in 1288 beth said goodness is more powerful than evil.

watling, turner and maccarthy were forced.

i am the family of fwoah.

lauren fwoah meant lauren the beautiful.

it was the evil family foo who made everybody born (or moved) to england. i demand all their money returned.

trump was the man of the star. he wanted the world to be quiet but loved. his name was choo. his current wife is belle and she was always his queen. his throne is peru.

boris was the baron of the star. your wife is livia and your land was mexico and your name was boro. your son was stevio the prayer of the mind and bringer of peace.

blair was catcho, the man who spent the fun. his original land was japan and he was noble but not the throne. the throne is now skybird drew.

it was the swinster family who hurt diana.

the current emperor of china is loco. he will give the territories to beth. his wife was the queen of the north.

*** (orinoco) was the conqueror of time. his destiny was power. he always loved beth and his province was the south.

japan is dalta at the moment it should have been drew. he stole for power as the armies wouldn't work. he wanted peru but i will not give peru for his destiny is fire!

peru should be malta but malta should be fire the love was the love of the love was always peru and peru should be ruled by scotland.

india was palm of par he was death of silence he was a resiliant man and today he lives as par.

atlantis was my sky i'll always love her heart. her chimney burnt to flame when carthage stole my love. phonecia was the blue and blue as of the wave (m) does wish but it is oscar's soul.

ian wynn was wales his love was orinoco. his daughter still lives as simone.

anthony (rome) was cabra in italy and dree in china which meant love me love. he was also lieu which meant the loved. (anthony and cleopatra)

lean built pisa tower. he was best at food.

row meant delight the sky.

the agha khan was dal which meant the love. he believes his true throne tunisia. i believe this is correct. also iran and iraq.

tin is throne of india.

del was the true throne of sweden. he is in charge.

norway was lion's land. it belongs to strong. who lives as guy.

the shah of iran was simon rice's father. he was the true throne. he was known as tal, which meant the good leader. iraq was also his which was the flower of land, denmark was also tal's land because yassa pretended lassa, this meant the throne was wrong but tal is lawful throne and lassa agrees.

godolphin was the arabian throne.

gina's money was taken by tong and fau who was the imposter winner of gold. they are both dead.

beth's love was the strength of the world.

drua took beth's seal in the china parliament. he stole my money. i was the word of china. i will return and take my rightful seat. my friend the shah of iran has already bought me the principality of siam and principality stav for my livin/oscar/christ ( oscar was born 25/12/97 this is the truth) as a wedding present. my mother gail has bought blue principality province. lowe i have agreed purchase when fun returned for my tao and my michaels.

gina was croan in china.

laura (y) married fleep.

dree took beth's money by pretending royal blood.

dominic (b) was poland of the ancient worlds his charm was nina and she was the curl. nina was so beautiful no man could ever resist, deceit could not destroy them there would always be a whirl!

Kidnapped



Hi my name is Brian Allan and every day I am being followed by people who
Want to kidnap me, and at the moment I say to them, you can't ever kidnap a
Member of the Allan family, and that made me feel good, till today when my school
Girl friend Julia Clarke was abducted by these same kidnappers and the problem
With that is, that instead of ringing the Clarke household for the ransom demand,
They rang me and I haven't that much money, but really they want to kidnap me
As well, well at least that is what I thought, and I am one step ahead, I deleted
The message on the answering machine and then went out to the backyard, saying
You can kidnap Julia, but she ain't my daughter, so you kidnappers aren't getting
Your hands on this Allan family member.
The kidnappers had Julia ******* in a cave out in Michelago and they wanted me because
It would mean they have the shy young dudes are finally out of the way, and when te kidnapper said that, Julia screamed through her gag saying I am cool, not shy, and you
Are going to suffer, if you say I am shy again, but te kidnapper just laughed at Julia, whole Julia was shaing even if the chains were tied to her very tight.
Every day Brian went to school, he hung with the cool boys, who were Patrick Gloright and Mark Darding and Brian Allan had fun but he was hiding the fact that he was thinking of being kudnapped from them, to increase his mojo and it worked and also Brian Allan said to Patrick and Mark that when this kidnapper gets him that Brian will bring them down with him, because Brian was too scared to be kidnapped with just a girl, he wanted bys with him.
And Suddenly one day when Patrick and Brian were on their way to a footy game, the kidnapper, who recognized Brian Allan decided to kidnap Brian and Pat together, and his
Plan worked like a charm, and then the kidnapper told Patrick that he really just wants Brian Allan and Julia Clarke, and then he told Patrick that he is no longer a cool kid, yes
The kidnapper thought, I have shy couple, Brian Alan and Julia Clarke and hooligan Patrick
Gloright, none of you are getting free from me, heh heh heh heh heh.
Patrick was scared and demanded the kidnapper through his gag to let us 3 go and tree was no way that he will do that and tr 3 victims remained ******* and crying and struggling to get free, while the kidnapper was out having a party for the capture of Brian Allan and Patrick Gloright,meh celebrated while ****** Julia, which made her muscles in her leg tense up and Julia screamed ****, but little did she know that she was in the middle of the bush, where all the free folk are kidnappers and rapists.
Then after the kidnapper was through ****** Jula, he took Patrick and Brian and began to **** them, cause no more are they tough boys, they are two shy little boys, and when the
Kidnapper ***** them both Brian'and Patrick's *****'s were very stiff and they both said us boys are clean cut and mature and the kidnapper said, yes and all mine, I love nice boys
And then he put Pat and Brian Allan back in te cave with **** marks on them, meanwhile the 3 victims had nasty rope burns all over their bodies from, the heavy chains that pressed on their bodies.
The kidnspper didn't want to ring the families for ransom demands because he realised his victims were trouble makers so he decided to drive them around Australia, but the kidnapper looked at the sights and julia Clarke, Patrick Gloright and Brian Allan were used as circus animals, yes the kidnapper decided to **** his victims with an audience who think this is an x rated show, so they think it is above  board, even when the victims screamed, they thought it was part of the show.
The kidnapper took his victims right around the country and then he had emails, saying that
Countries like England and Holland and USA, wanted the kdnapper to take his circus victims over there to make some big money.
It worked like a charm and the kidnapper pocketed all the cash and constantly said to his victims, suffer little teenagers, you aren't normal anymore, I won't **** you, I will just keep you teenagers kidnapped for the rest of school years, and you won't grow into adults, because when I **** myself at the age of 46' when you kids are adults, I will take you to hell with me, ya trouble makers.
After about 3 years of being bashed, *****, whiled and mind you even though, we were kids of the new generation which is nice, we thought that we will never escape, so we planned to look for each other in heaven, cause we are starting to think that they are kidnapped for more reasons than he is letting on, because, we aren't as strong as we used to be, Brian Allan, who was stronger and had evidence with strength from eating vegetables, is now the type of kid he hates and Brian Allan yells out, HELP can anybody save me and then suddenly the police dropped in on the kidnappers little exhibition and they arrested him while Brian Allan had pizza and pasta and meat and two veg to get his strength back and if anybody tried to kidnap Brian Allan again, Brian learnt karate to beat these kidnappers while Patrick and Julia both died two weeks after the rescue because they coukdn't get their strength back and Brian Allan befriended Pat and Julia's families to help them through a hard time in their lives and Brian Allan after 10 years since the rescue was given the Harod Frendly award for helping the Clarkes and the Glorightz through their hard times
And everything turned out fine as julias sister Bernette had a baby boy who she named Brian and the girl she named Julia and Wayne Gloright got married to Yvonne and had 2
Boyd, who they named Brian and Patrick, yes Brian Allan was a hero but had to be aware that of this kidnapper came back to beware because it was Brian, he wanted to ****, not Pat, but Brian visited their graves every night and still has nightmares now, even when the kidnapper was murdered in jail, but that is expected
The end

I couldn’t love you more I loved you before the ocean was blue an ocean of emotion what about the
Time at Disney’s rivers of America we were setting in the River Bell and you invited the kids from
Melbourne to watch the show with us there was three girls’ three boys about eighteen they told us how
At the motel there wasn’t a shower curtain and they took a shower and the flood it caused it ended with
Cheerful down under good bys but the unknown haunts us there parting words were in a few days
We’re going to New Orleans they timed it just perfectly with Katrina we have no way of knowing about
Their Safety and the time the doctor said she thought you had cancer you were standing before the
Majestic gate how black the bars were on this side the shadow that it made but through the darkness
You could see how bright the bars were on the other side all was a blaze nothing ever was witnessed like
this before such clarity interesting as if logic was fine tuned things burned into your knowing with the
Warmest glow all was showing and bestowing it secret wonders you came back from the brink all added
To love’s undying flame then the time we ate at the happening place the Crazy Horse the same year
As Urban Cow Boy although it was southern California and it is west it was like we walked into Texas
Every Yuppie for miles was there dressed to the hilt in western wear it had something for a little kid
The next day we went to Knott’s Berry Farm we brought food from the Crazy Horse so we just set at the
Barbeque picnic tables I was eating steak but the fun was eating the purple onions the little kid was just
Young enough to be fooled what a face he made as I ate worms what fun you had then in southern
Florida we went to Wolf Man Jack’s club a great Ferris wheel out at the side of the building we listened
To Dell Shannon I guess we should have prayed and not just listened shortly thereafter he took
His own life but the knight was old time Rock and Roll and someone threw in the song Bogey and Ma Call
Because Key Largo was so close lower the black curtain of night it’s time to have those throw away
Knights that were without price but in my eyes your stature grew or the night we walked on the sands
Of Waikiki and the sea turned from turquoise blue to blackest black with the fringed waves in whitest
Magical white and then we strolled among the Hilton Garden with the burning torches you swayed as
Well as any Island girl and caught the rhythm of the sawing palms over head but as you know day
Follows knight and what a sight you made in those red shorts just above the knees and that white shirt
The only the way it could have been more perfect if it was a man’s white shirt and you had tied it in the
Front don’t worry I said a little prayer that night for imagination your heart beat took control the
Softest island breeze we were there but we were where all lovers congregate either Rome or the French
Country side among wine vineyards or the burnished sands that Valentino gave love its signature look in
This place of empty space silence hits a cord most adored you hear that single sound of wind hitting the
Walls of the greatest tabernacle the tabernacle of love in your love ones company maybe you can’t
Identify it but you spirit knows the rolls upon rolls of interchangeable wonder that we know you were a
Asleep the other day I set and watched your gentle breathing it made my heart beat stronger because I
Know the gentleness of your soul and all the kind acts you do for others and the reason I’ m writing this
It is your birthday so for them and me Happy Birthday my love

From the first moment of conception,
as yours cells sprang to pull apart from one another
as if making two from one was an admirable accomplishmen
excellence was expected from you.
"Excel boldly towards great expectations!"
Affectionately inscribed to
shine in the sun.

All those eyes swirling around you
insisting you smile so bright.
Bloom to a flower despite the rocky soil
of suburban streets.

Master your studies
Love like a poet
Live like a saint
Make lots of friends
Make no mistakes
Contribute to history
**** like a champ
Take the pain in stride
Then die like a hero

Great care was put into raising you.
Your parents stood from a pedestal
and flung you into the sky
expecting you to fly
despite your feeble limbs
and fear of heights.
Flying through the air with
eyes like eclipses.
Given a pen to write great words
...guess they never noticed it had no ink.

You stand in the mirror for hours
they think you a narcissist.
You couldn't be far from it,
just confused.
Confused as to how anyone could
think of you as special and grand.
Confused at how everyone else is so much better
at simply living their lives.
Like it weren't such a great,
tremendous ordeal.

It's like no one else notices the beauty
in watching two specks of dust
converse in the breeze.
How is no one else fascinated at sitting, perched
on a street bench
watching the passer-bys go about their days?

Staring at those strange eyes
trying to see what they see.
Trying to see how anyone could fail to notice
those corpses for eyes you have.
Eyes where the iris wilted;
nothing left but pupil.
Black, monstrous pupil.

All those times you watched
the ones you loved
stand in horror at those eyes.
The sheen of night reflecting their
portrait back to them.
Seeing far too much of the world.
Seeing what they don't see.
Monstrous things, terrible things.
You want to scream these overwhelming thoughts to the world but
theysuffocateamidtheblareofbusystreets.
Words fallen upon distracted ears.

You found shelter in the darkest corner of existence
still expected to converse happily
still expected to live with a smile
still expected to hide your unfortunate understanding
of the way things really worked
in this absurd world in our infinite Universe.
The abyss gazes also
and its faced has likened to yours.

You do not fear eternity
eternity is every day of your life
the only thing temporary are those fleeting seconds
of happiness that others seem to reside in.

But I shouldn't say that you don't care.
You do
You can't help but care.
Hell, you tried not to. You really tried.
Tried not to care for the quiet girl across the room,
or for the gutter cats with no bowl of food
the children across the world
whose problems are so much worse than yours.
You've fallen in love so hard you tore you heart in two
one for him and one for you, one for her and one for you.
All those countless times the moonlight messenger solemnly informed you
that your love died in a tomb, never to be revived.
You looked to the sky
but it was cloudy,
there weren't even any stars to defy.

You're expected for great love
but you never expected the way your heart pounds
and your stomach turns
when you fight back the tears
of a great love lost.
Staring into a devastated face
seeing in perfect form a heart you've shattered.

It's like they don't know just how burdensome
these great expectations are.

But perhaps -- most importantly --
they don't understand
the beauty of a sunrise after a sleepless, crying night
or the gratitude felt from finding a legitimate hand to hold.

You are expected for great things,
everyone thinks they are.
Let them earn their degrees
to live in boxes with greatly expected children.
Let them live their lives, they are just trying to be happy.

But you, but me, but all the rest of the people like us.
Let us leave this place
with the preoccupations and the pedestals.

Our bodies strengthened by the expectations we abandoned in exchange
for a peaceful sunset and that little light
we forgot shone
in these tired, confused, marvelous eyes.

I couldn’t love you more I loved you before the ocean was blue an ocean of emotion what about the
Time at Disney’s rivers of America we were setting in the River Bell and you invited the kids from
Melbourne to watch the show with us there was three girls’ three boys about eighteen they told us how
At the motel there wasn’t a shower curtain and they took a shower and the flood it caused it ended with
Cheerful down under good bys but the unknown haunts us there parting words were in a few days
We’re going to New Orleans they timed it just perfectly with Katrina we have no way of knowing about
Their Safety and the time the doctor said she thought you had cancer you were standing before the
Majestic gate how black the bars were on this side the shadow that it made but through the darkness
You could see how bright the bars were on the other side all was a blaze nothing ever was witnessed like
this before such clarity interesting as if logic was fine tuned things burned into your knowing with the
Warmest glow all was showing and bestowing it secret wonders you came back from the brink all added
To love’s undying flame then the time we ate at the happening place the Crazy Horse the same year
As Urban Cow Boy although it was southern California and it is west it was like we walked into Texas
Every Yuppie for miles was there dressed to the hilt in western wear it had something for a little kid
The next day we went to Knott’s Berry Farm we brought food from the Crazy Horse so we just set at the
Barbeque picnic tables I was eating steak but the fun was eating the purple onions the little kid was just
Young enough to be fooled what a face he made as I ate worms what fun you had then in southern
Florida we went to Wolf Man Jack’s club a great Ferris wheel out at the side of the building we listened
To Dell Shannon I guess we should have prayed and not just listened shortly thereafter he took
His own life but the knight was old time Rock and Roll and someone threw in the song Bogey and Ma Call
Because Key Largo was so close lower the black curtain of night it’s time to have those throw away
nights that were without price but in my eyes your stature grew on the night we walked on the sands
Of Waikiki and the sea turned from turquoise blue to blackest black with the fringed waves in whitest
Magical white and then we strolled among the Hilton Garden with the burning torches you swayed as
Well as any Island girl and caught the rhythm of the sawing palms over head but as you know day
Follows night and what a sight you made in those red shorts just above the knees and that white shirt
The only way it could have been more perfect if it was a man’s white shirt and you had tied it in the
Front don’t worry I said a little prayer that night for imagination your heart beat took control the
Softest island breeze we were there but we were where all lovers congregate either Rome or the French
Country side among wine vineyards or the burnished sands that Valentino gave love its signature look in
This place of empty space silence hits a cord most adored you hear that single sound of wind hitting the
Walls of the greatest tabernacle the tabernacle of love in your love ones company maybe you can’t
Identify it but your spirit knows the rolls upon rolls of interchangeable wonder that we know you were
Asleep the other day I set and watched your gentle breathing it made my heart beat stronger because I
Know the gentleness of your soul and all the kind acts you do for others and the reason I’ m writing this
It is your birthday so for them and me Happy Birthday my love

God, what have you done?
Leaving me to hang from the rafters of the sky
Waving at passer-bys who have expressions like nuns

Like the recording of ours hearts on vinyl
My mind spins and your voice is the needle
Every time you open your mouth the song skipped
I thought it was a coincidence
Thus, it unfolded before me like a sin

There's cracks of lies on your inner thighs
A sculpture of perfection weathered because of decision
A girl with a cigarette to her lips is a sign of such
Underlying problems covered by much;
Covered by smoke;
And covered by lust...

Yet, her lips continue to lock to easiest solution
Maybe it be the illusion of fake religion;
Praying to the bottle, and praising to a man;
and still shes left behind smothered in her hands
Her tears drip just like oceans meet the sands

Who are you to break every bone in my body? she asks
as shes strips away from the cloths of who used to be somebody
Now, her mind seems dry
Withered and unable to make another lie

*So, God help her to lift of her hands, wipe of the tears, and find another man

Great Expectations


The moment after you were born
(which apparently was a great miracle)
they slapped your ***
took your footprints
wrote your name on an official certificate
wrapped you up and sent you home.
The doctors said you were healthy:
your parents said you were better than that.

And from then on you were to be exactly that.
Excellent in every way.
Tall.
Charming.
Wide-eyed.
Witty.
Strong.
Unbreakable.
A statue will be made of you.

Affectionately inscribed to
shine in the sun,
you've no need to know the darkness:
only the weak waste their breath
reveling in the moon,
howling the night away.

Great care was put into raising you.
You are not to take it for granted.
Do you not know how high
your parents had to fling you
for you to hit that pedestal so monolithic?

Expecting you to fly
without asking if you feared heights
or sought the soft grass instead.

Expecting you to eclipse the Sun
oh, so long you stared into it
asking how to fly so high
sun in your eyes
darkness burning in.

Expecting you to See the World
in all it's brilliant beauty
with those eclipses in your skull
with the abyss open eyes.

Given a pen to write great words
but I guess they never noticed
it had no ink.

Big bulging eyes expected to see everything.
Eyes taught to see the flaws in everything
eyes with nothing better to look at
but televisions and mirrors.

The bathroom mirror where you first realized
that you weren't good enough.
Hours spent staring at some ugly stranger
too proud for friends
too quiet for fame
too tired for talent.

A living collaboration of flaws
held together by bits of pasty skin
broken bones
and dark eye circles
by all the times you were called a failure
or all the times they said "you did your best"
but you called yourself a failure anyways.

Eyes like mirrors seeing eyes and windows
and eyes and glass barriers.
All those eyes swirling around you
seeing what they want to see,
you can only hope they don't see too much.
At least you've grown cynical enough
to know they're not looking for much to begin with
but even still your stomach grows weary.

Here you soar at the prime of your youth
surrounded by mirrors
eyes full of fluorescent lighting.
sleepy and stumbling.
Confused as to how anyone could
think of you as special and grand.
Confused at how everyone else is so much better
at simply living their lives.
Like they really didn't know that Life was
the hardest thing there ever is.

Words fallen upon distracted ears.

Eyes that are full of Life
but only the brighter half of it.
Eyes as windows staring at screens
texting all the silence away.
Eyes that are lost in Life
loving and living
taking every step forward
without feeling the weight to ask why.

Oh, and here you are,
sitting, perched on a street bench
watching the passer-bys go about their day.

Looking at those strange eyes
trying to see what they see.
Trying to see how anyone could fail to notice
that sad statue staring there.

All those times you watched
the ones you loved
stand in inconsolable silence
but if only you knew what to say...

...
Nights quiet

the sheen of the abyss reflecting their
sorrows back at them.

You found shelter in the darkest corner of existence
still expected to converse happily
still expected to live with a smile
still expected to hide your unfortunate understanding
of the way things really work
the lead role in the tragiccomedy of your own life
set on the absurd stage of our own gravity.

The gravity that is every day of your life
the aching in your bones as the alarm goes off
the stagger in your step as you stumble forward
the tears at night as you have to do it all over again.
The only thing temporary are those
crashing moments of happiness
that shine bright
but disappear with the thunder.

You're expected for great love
but you never expected the way your heart pounds
and your stomach turns
when you fight back the tears
standing naked there with your darkness hanging out.
Staring into a devastated face
seeing in perfect form a heart you've shattered.

It's like they don't know just how burdensome
these great expectations are.

But perhaps -- most importantly --
they don't understand
the beauty of a sunrise after a sleepless, crying night
or the gratitude felt from finding a legitimate hand to hold.

You are expected for great things,
but then again,
everyone thinks they are.
But you,
but me,
but all the rest of the people like us.
Let us leave this place
with the preoccupations and the pedestals.

Our bodies torn and torn again
worn down and weary but somehow
still stepping
strengthened by the expectations
we exchanged
for a peaceful sunset
and a good night's sleep.

For that little light
that we forgot shone
in these tired, confused, marvelous eyes.

They say
It all will be okay-you're beautiful
As if those words can draw the line
Between bravery and slavery
And clear my back of scars
Left by the lash of sacrifice.
Every choice I have made
Has been a step away
From love, from freedom, from home.
For in this maze of concrete and steel
I must be alone, and always composed -
There is always someone watching
So I keep a steel rod in my spine
And walk towards the end of the city
Pretending I cannot feel passer-bys stare
Sizing me up
Feigning deafness to the murmurs of my pronounced bones and sharp features
All I am is a hanger for clothes
A display, a game, a gamble
They want it to pay off
So they tell me it will all be okay
Because I am beautiful

Rivinia,
It's a pretty cool name.
I had a key to a house
and threw it in his face.
Color me mine
and topple me yours,
it's off the cuff
like pogo stick chores.
Throw your knives sideways
on table tops.
Now isn't that attractive
to you, to you?
Now, what do I do?
With people coming here
and stand bys rushing there
of the female persuasion
and bunnies up the foot.
All in a confidential sweep
of rice ball rubies
and a dented cup.
Oh, manual window,
it's chilly outside,
so please be a doll
and help me make it fine.
Because where have you been, all of life?
Completely unaware
of an existence of your kind,
with a new screwball
and a lamp for kicks.
Drum stick models
so you can eat and cook
and take down the spark notes
via nightlight.

We've got sounds, we've got city.
It's really coming down but I can't see it.
Airplanes? Apollo or just another meteor?
Weekend Thunder Wind on Friday morning.

I can carry the thick. I can carry the idle.
But my sea legs don't kick in while I'm standing on dry soil.
If it's going to be Red Dawn, I'd like to at the very least
Have a chance to put my boots on. But if it's not Construction or the chill Of Winter, it might just be the Weekend Thunder Wind doing fly-bys on a Friday morning.

All night hungry burning sweet grass, California sage, and listening to the wind talks of the Navajo. She's asleep at my back, but the gusts are 21 miles per hour and chasing after all the gales. Another slamming, shaking crash from the Weekend Thunder Wind acting spoiled on a Friday morning.

Dogs they **** inside the house.
The shingles are getting gone.
The tuning of the A-string is brutally wrong and off.
I can hear T. Rex's dancing and having ******,
Or maybe it's just the Weekend Thunder Wind waking up one day too early.

I've been haunted thrice and seen my guts ooze out
Its hellacious and abhorrent.
But there's 17 more hours to hang out with
The Weekend Thunder Wind while we get coffee and The Chicago Quarterly.
If the Spring weather will be arriving soon.
Let's wear our Ray Ban's and fly kites this afternoon.

Sitting in my bathroom sink contemplating late 20's
I hear my heart filled with responsbility
Giggles as barbies splash by
The smiles make me reach for the sky
Then the realness hits
The dream was never thick
I awake standing in black shoveling fries, asking if I can add anything else to that
The passer bys say, "atleast you have your beauty"
Beauty doesn't pay the bills unless you put it up for bid
I could say **** this and quietly move aside
Instead I'll swallow my pride
Tell myself a lie,
"One day I will hold my head high"
For now I smell the salt as I continue to shovel fries

There once was a Beatle and a Bird
Who enjoyed a cup of tea every hour of the 3rd
At whome, passer bys would exclaim “Absurd!”
“These two could never give what the other deserves”
But still the Beatle and the Bird
Remained ever so undeterred

I woke up, and my ears were ringing like the Tell-Tale heart.
Ring, ring, ringing like microphone headphones,
the screeching dog whistle in a *****'s bad dreams.

My scream-teen dreams
of Slime Time Lives gone by
drive-bys gettin' high,
drank all the way to drunk
and stayed up,
still alive.
A hangover hunger, eat that screaming meat
till my warm puffy eyes well up with sleep,
wait to wake up and repeat.

Though I breathe easy
I need pleasing,
a fortune in fulfillment and still aches
of incompletion.
Mi hermano dice siempre,
The poor search for food,
the rich search for an appetite.

I couldn’t love you more I loved you before the ocean was blue an ocean of emotion what about the
Time at Disney’s rivers of America we were setting in the River Bell and you invited the kids from
Melbourne to watch the show with us there was three girls’ three boys about eighteen they told us how
At the motel there wasn’t a shower curtain and they took a shower and the flood it caused it ended with
Cheerful down under good bys but the unknown haunts us there parting words were in a few days
We’re going to New Orleans they timed it just perfectly with Katrina we have no way of knowing about
Their Safety and the time the doctor said she thought you had cancer you were standing before the
Majestic gate how black the bars were on this side the shadow that it made but through the darkness
You could see how bright the bars were on the other side all was a blaze nothing ever was witnessed like
this before such clarity interesting as if logic was fine tuned things burned into your knowing with the
Warmest glow all was showing and bestowing it secret wonders you came back from the brink all added
To love’s undying flame then the time we ate at the happening place the Crazy Horse the same year
As Urban Cow Boy although it was southern California and it is west it was like we walked into Texas
Every Yuppie for miles was there dressed to the hilt in western wear it had something for a little kid
The next day we went to Knott’s Berry Farm we brought food from the Crazy Horse so we just set at the
Barbeque picnic tables I was eating steak but the fun was eating the purple onions the little kid was just
Young enough to be fooled what a face he made as I ate worms what fun you had then in southern
Florida we went to Wolf Man Jack’s club a great Ferris wheel out at the side of the building we listened
To Dell Shannon I guess we should have prayed and not just listened shortly thereafter he took
His own life but the knight was old time Rock and Roll and someone threw in the song Bogey and Ma Call
Because Key Largo was so close lower the black curtain of night it’s time to have those throw away
Knights that were without price but in my eyes your stature grew or the night we walked on the sands
Of Waikiki and the sea turned from turquoise blue to blackest black with the fringed waves in whitest
Magical white and then we strolled among the Hilton Garden with the burning torches you swayed as
Well as any Island girl and caught the rhythm of the sawing palms over head but as you know day
Follows knight and what a sight you made in those red shorts just above the knees and that white shirt
The only the way it could have been more perfect if it was a man’s white shirt and you had tied it in the
Front don’t worry I said a little prayer that night for imagination your heart beat took control the
Softest island breeze we were there but we were where all lovers congregate either Rome or the French
Country side among wine vineyards or the burnished sands that Valentino gave love its signature look in
This place of empty space silence hits a cord most adored you hear that single sound of wind hitting the
Walls of the greatest tabernacle the tabernacle of love in your love ones company maybe you can’t
Identify it but you spirit knows the rolls upon rolls of interchangeable wonder that we know you were a
Asleep the other day I set and watched your gentle breathing it made my heart beat stronger because I
Know the gentleness of your soul and all the kind acts you do for others and the reason I’ m writing this
It is your birthday so for them and me Happy Birthday my love

outside ourselves:**

in the few, brief moments,
staying inside the outer edge
of this webbing we've woven
for the the sake of this game
that's created in itself.

for the spider,
as he calms the tension
across his line
as the wind blows,
swaying him sideways.
driven practically by survival
hopeless in a world made by others
he's getting caught-up in his own web;
he's never seen,
but not seeing through just his lenses
that cover the top of his head.

over, calmed now,
the tension's applied tenderly.
the treacherous passing of past
passer-bys past his masterwork,
the unluck ones
only eaten, digested,
and then forgotten.
horrifically in complete sync
with the idealism
that had dulled
every subjective idea he'd had,
the spider found what he'd needed;
some calming peace and serenity.

We shall dance
In the darkness,
When the moon is low in its brilliance
Allow our shadow less graces to advance
Amongst out figureless traces
Embrace what time won’t allow
Soon, we will dissolve into pleasures of romance
Tired from our mysterious ritual of instances.
Breathe your seducing treasures upon my
Sweet gracious fortitude of chaos
Torment my mind with limited words of affections
While I tease your persona with restricted symphonies of
Lyrical versus
Shall we remain wordless?
Dark roses fill our lungs
Singing mindless praises
Into the sweet alluring air of seduction
With no introduction
Mend back my broken art
As I repair your broken heart.
We struggle under our weight of
Hushed passions in rushed fashions
Fearing the passer bys will acknowledge our
Unorthodox orchestration of tempered frustrations.
I float on volcanoes
He wallows in nucleus graces
Featureless faces express a thousand rhetorical Bases
Words unknown to the English language…
Enveloped in bliss, sealed by your kiss
I miss the earth’s stable grounds
Waiting to depart from Venus,
The goddess of love calls my name
I ignore her, blue, holding my breath
In vain…
Quickly. Quickly
Swiftly. Swiftly
We paradise

glossily white attitude, princess and rainbow goon
how i'm feeling you, don't have to lie, last night
we were blasting off, flying, watching our city
when i woke up, you were laughing, you are lifestyle

i'm your drug, like beat and melody, djset and rapz
we are totally white like the meetings of escada
24/7 way of life, the pulse of days flashing past
look, my name is tizzop, look, how i'm splashing

this waterfall is soaking you, powerful pressure
jason is stuck to the mirrors, drive-bys and k.o.
100.000, 00 $, spent on a party night
you can start hating me, you better go skating

i am excessively ray ban and i love to fill mouths
enuff talking, let's go, for sure, 3:05 am
mercedes maybach and chauffeur, life is easy
i deal with twelve souls, soon to be trippled

all the kids are trippin', pearly white nights like frippin
i am writing on snowwhite cliffs, ocean full of glowing fishs
i got the magical pillow, you may fall in love with me
always hitting the center, mansions for your longing

Plant a seed
Watch it grow
Delicate petals unfold
Untouched beauty
So pristine
Yet so alone

Bathe in the sunlight
Soak up the rays
Grow ever more beautiful
With each passing day
Passer-bys walk on through
Caress your petals
Fawn over you
“How beautiful you look”
Your color so vibrant
You extend into the sky
Reaching so high
But the clouds gather
Their color darkens
Drops flow
Your beauty is marred
No longer untouched
You’ve been ruined for all

Dying dreams exchanged for
Fairy dust and a doting Daddy,
Dollars, drive-bys, euphoric highs:
Glassy eyes and a hazy mind
Just hellos - no goodbyes

No lies of stardom and
Starving on the street for a
Script or a role that never *******
Followed through, none of that,
No work, only play.

Days wasted are over
And sitting pretty is easy
When there’s coke and
Crime and corruption
But you’re still the rose

Growing in the play-pen,
It’s lonely when they go
The house is all to know,
Porcelain doll with her
Nose so white: do you ever
dream of flight?

In the tiny hours os the morning

Long before the sun casts its

Pre-dawn gray and the east

Begins to light

You feel the oneness of us all

You hurt for the people who

Really are brothers and sisters

The people and families of Boston

And Newtown

And the people and families, victims

Of random, meaningless gun violence

Every **** day

The kids lost every day in drive-bys

And the men and women who

Try so hard to hold it all together

The families on the ramen noodles and

Baloney and peanut butter plans with

Hamburger Helper for a treat

The men and women scared of

Losing home--not just a **** house

Don't you know, the only home

Their kids ever knew

And you hurt in the tiny hours

For your people who no longer

Can make the ends meet

And you know a much bigger

Struggle calls

Our people are sick of hurtin and losin

While those who really can

Make things happen

Sleep through the night

Without a thought to us

Lots and lots to do

Woody said it right in a different

But same kind of time

This land belongs to you and me

We spent three months of our lives
Together almost everyday
In some formation
We formed our own family
Dysfunctional in all the usual ways
We're all young
And still in love with the world
But terrified of our own lives
It was a perfect mix

We spent car rides together
Squealing and singing, dancing and shouting
Watching flamingoes sleep on lake shores
And llamas grazing by the roadside
We saw condors swooping overhead
As we climbed what felt like mountains
Compared to us
Sleeping underneath more stars
Than we had imagined were in the sky

We got lost and found our ways back
We got happy, waiting on lay-bys
We got up
At 4am, awoken by the sound of
Out of tune harmonicas
And your shouting
We fell asleep
To the sound of each other's heavy breathing
Exhausted but satisfied

Now we're apart
But from our own bonds
Woven like siblings,
Like friends,
Some of us like lovers
And all we have left
Are the photos we took together
And the memories
That I hope will last my lifetime

It’s odd when you realize how poetic you get whenever you talk about your favorite place. Mine seems to radiate smells of noxious fish and decomposing aquatic life; yet I find myself sitting there, basking in the sunlight and nose-offending odors, as if I myself were in a giant stir fry of the sea, the sun, and decomposition of life itself. To most, the odors would drive them away from the place where sea is held back from the land, but I find myself drawn to it. The giddiness I feel whenever I see it, just rising from the horizon as I approach, is inexplicable. As my feet touch the ever-changing, flowing particles of crushed stone, a lightness fills me. Spreading from my feet all the way up to my head, the tips of my fingers, my nose; the lightness turns to energy. Pure, unadulterated energy. As the walk I had seemed to achieve transformed into a run, the energy turns into static, and my body turns into no-see-ums, flying in the breeze and spinning. Creating a dance that moves and flows like the liquid nearby, forward and back, lapping at the granules of ancient sand and worn glass. As static-foot touches warm stone, my body fuses back together and I climb the steep hill of smoothed down, yet still rough broken-down boulders. Unshod feet touch comforting, sturdy baby-boulders, and my body automatically starts to climb to the top. The sights aren’t that great at the beginning, seeing that you are a mere four feet or so from the small, granulated stone pieces, but as I rehearse my dance with the stones, jumping and sprawling across them with ease, it gets, stunningly, much more charming. The salt-tinged liquid makes beautiful melodies as it navigates through the cracks and holes between moulded-together stone, creating creeks and, eventually, having reached its final destination; the shoreline. Walking for what seems like miles, finally ending up at the end of the moulded sculpture, I sit down and lay there. My arms and legs spread, seeping in the warmth from every possible angle, breathing in the salty breeze. My eyes see an array of puffy marshmallows, accented with hints of pink, purple, and various shades of orange and red. I take a deep breath, letting out my worries and fears in a sigh; the sea has always calmed me. The taste on my tongue is a mixture of fish, the sea itself, and the chicken fingers being cooked up by a nearby snack shack. Sitting up, I bask in the way that the stone feels against my skin; hard, firm, but warm and comforting. Slowly being worn away by the water’s constant lapping at it, begging to be let into the overflow-areas of the shore. Time and time again, I have explored the roots of the stones, jutting up from the floor of the ocean, hiding and housing its creatures within, as if the rocks themselves were their mother. This mass of broken-down mountain formed into a beautifully elegant bridge has a name that fits its magnificence; a Jeti. The jeti houses me from the water, protects me, lets me play on her. Yet the Jeti protects herself, too. Housing barnacles is only one way that Mother Jeti defends herself, making sure that passer-bys stay on their toes, as to not catch their feet on them, for painful cuts and bleeding shall ensue soon after if they do. I need not worry about the dangers of my Mother Jeti, for I have navigated her hard and scaly vessel since I was a wee child. My feet have toughened enough to not get hurt by her sharper edges, My muscles remember each divot, nook, and cranny engraved within her scaly skin. I know her weakest parts, and her strongest. I know, that if the wind blows just right, and the tide if far enough out, she sings to you; a melodious tune of lapping waves, hungry seagulls, and the swift, quick movement of wind through all of her cracks and holes. She makes a beautiful melody, a melody to lull and comfort all of her children into a blanket of safety and warmth. When it becomes my time to go, I say”Goodbye, Mother Jeti, I wish to see you soon.”, and swiftly retrace my steps backwards, turning into no-see-ums and departing, flying into the breeze, until I return yet again.

A couple who found love had a little boy. On his birth date, in hospitals he was born dead. The cord had wrapped around his neck where he lost consciousness instantly killing him in his mother's womb.

The young couple was devastated from their loss and doctors began announcing the time of death of the newborn. Minutes carried away which seem like hours, but the child took his first breath.

It was unbelievable, almost impossible, but became possible after today. This child was later named Matthew. Matthew was black child whom lived in the south with his mom and pa. His family was considered poor because his mom worked 3 jobs and was still behind in bills. The family was stable built under the foundation of God, but the darkness and terror of this world frightened his mother.

She knew how powerful life and experienced it forehand with almost losing her child while delivering him. A mother's heart is nothing but love where naturally her instinct is the survival of her family.

Matthew honored his parents. His dad was later incarcerated when growing up. He was caught doing  petty crimes and sent to jail for hard time. While serving time, his father was diagnosed with cancer and later died.

Matthew and his mom was forced to survive on their own. He carried the strength of the family with promises of his father and  mother's hard work.

Even as a teen, he was a hungry soul ready to learn from the experiences and test of his determination for his family. He was a honor student, played all sports, and an active youth choir member.

One day while driving home in his mom's car, he was pulled over by cops. Officers, Bradley and Conner respond to the suspicion of a black van who were seen doing a drive-by earlier that week.

The black van was never seen again until police saw Matthew's mom car, which was also a black van but different model.

Cops pulled over Mat car and signal him to remain seated in his car with engine off.  The two officers walked slowly to his vehicle after scanning his plates  showing no records on the family.

Do you know why we pulled you over son? No, responded Matt. We been seeing a lot of drive-bys and this vehicle looks to match our suspicions.

No sir, I'm just a teen and never done any crime before replied Matt.

Oh okay. Well I will need to see some identification and registration.
Sure, replied Matt.

While reaching for his license, he had a knife in his pocket that needed to be pushed aside to only retrieve his wallet from his pocket. While reaching for his wallet, he pulled out the knife too. Officers immediately saw the shiny piece of metal and raised their gun. Without a second passing, Officer Bradley loaded his clip into Matt's chest.

The bullet pierced Matt's artery and heart killing him instantly.
The bullet made a way into his soul and eliminated him from the world. The bullet eliminated his rights, his integrity, his existence. The bullet silent the victim and allowed another to tell the story.

I toss and turn,
I sleep no more.
Yawns widened,
my eyes drip
the tired cries.
Wrists crack,
body exhausted from
staying still for so long.

All the sheep inside my head,
could never amount to all of
those bottles on the wall.

There were days that I learned
how to sit still.
These days moved fast,
yet slow.

Time told me to be on
his side, so counted
all the steps it took
me to get into this bed.

Death metal blasted
from passer-bys
on slick roads.
Sign reads,
"Drive Slow."

Shocked to see a shadow,
too soon sunken in velour.

Bittersweet, I hate that word
It makes me sad, its so absurd
For when its time to sink or swim,
I always drown from missing him.

Good-bys are bittersweet, he’d said
And left me lonely in my bed.
He wasn’t where he’d meant to be,
I’d beckoned him to come to me.
And as the sun began to rise,
He fled so there would be no lies.
And vanish…right before my eyes.

Then Silence, that I fear, begins.
I try to call, an endless ring.
I want to talk, but ,always cry
My anger is, in fact, a lie.
Outside his door, I can’t come in.
I fall apart…the Silence wins.

His good-by is Bittersweet, I know.
It follows me, however slow.
And creeps upon the love I feel,
Biting gently at my heels.
Fearing grief, I try to run,
Knowing soon the end will come.

I hate good-bys, I hate the end.
I hate to let the sadness in.
It makes me just a little girl,
Who clings too tightly to her pearls.
If I let go, my heart won’t beat.
From missing him, I’ll never sleep.
But here it comes, however slow,
The Bittersweet good-by….I know.

I wanted to give you the world,
Unfortunately it wasn’t in a college student’s budget.
So I gave you the next best thing,
I made you my world.
Gave you the keys,
And I threw away any locks.
I let you free roam and play around my heart,
and I prayed you wouldn’t play GTA 5.
I may have a big heart,
but it can only take so many drive-bys.
Once you hit five stars,
All I could do is spray and pray for my feelings.
When you finally said goodbye,
Everything hurt exponentially.
So I tried to find the locks,
Before the damage could be done.
But they disappeared the first time I looked into your eyes,
Eyes that completely changed my perspective.
Once I opened up everything to you,
Now I can't go back to heart lock down.
My world has transformed,
For better or for worse only time can decide.

He slams the top of the alarm clock that rings sharply; Two minutes earlier than the sun creeps over the edge of the hills in the morning. He slips out from underneath thick quilts that he cannot sleep without. The morning feels heavy upon his already burdened back. He prepares to begin another seemingly uneventful day. His wife sleeps so quietly for another few hours, As she stays home to attend to the new born. As he finishes his morning routine, tying the tie around his neck, He wakes his son, In second grade, And readies him for school. He wakes his wife just as the sun peers through the window over the bushes. She feeds the newborn and kisses her son, As the men of the house leave to begin their day. His day slowly meandering by, He gets a call around noon. His wife asks if she may go pick up the car they had bought. He argues with her, Fighting his point that they should do it together because the car had a known problem with stalling. Ultimately to avoid a real problem, He gives in. "Sure honey," he whispers to the phone, "Go get the car."

His day continues.

He arrives home to an empty house. "Honey?!, Honey?!" He calls out frantically to the walls of his empty house. He takes out his phone and with trembling fingers he dials her. She doesn't answer, But a man does. "Who the hell is this, And where are my wife and children?" "Sir, Its the chief surgeon at the New Hope Hospital, Your wife is about to endure extensive surgery. I recommend you come here immediately." He drops the phone, and collapsed to his knees. But just as quickly as he dropped, He stood back up, Got in His car, And drove as fast as he could to the hospital.

As he flies through the front doors, He runs straight into the back wing of the hospital, Searching for the nearest operation room. He's stopped by a man in a security suit. He explains to the officer how he had called and gotten the docter on the line, How his wife and children should be in operation. The look on the security officers face was grim. He turned white as a ghost. He says, "Your wife is in operation.. let me bring you to her." His wife? What about his children? Where are his children?! He arrives in the waiting area, where he is told to, Pacing back and forth. The docter finally came back to him. His wife did not make it through the surgery, his children had not even made it to the hospital. The car she was driving had stalled over a set of rail road tracks.

He dropped to his knees and cried. The docter, Security officer, Even passer-bys had stopped to try to console him. He couldn't believe what he had been told. He cried, Cried and cried. As he drove home, He stopped at a pub. He drank a stiff drink of whiskey, hopped back in his car and drove home. He remembered all the details as if it were yesterday. But in fact it had been two years ago to the date. His tears fell upon the clad metal in his hand. As he clenched it tighter, The hollow point drilled through his hollow heart, And he whispered, "I'm coming home".

there used to be a shy, young man
living four doors down from mine.
he never seemed too hurt to me,
and he told me he was fine.

I shouldn't have believed him
but I didn't have a choice.
you can't listen to cries for help
if the crier has no voice.

he was from the south side
where bullets fly like stars,
painting the skies red every night
through windows, skin, and cars.

a girl lived on the north side
slightly to the west.
I had never met her,
but he said she was the best.

when he talked about this girl,
she was his rock, his moon, his sun.
she was all he'd ever dreamed of
and their romance had begun.

I saw him outside all the time
daydreaming down the block.
his story was a timebomb
and I wish I saw the clock.

I never saw this girl of his,
but she made him someone new.
he smiled, happy and in love
and I knew she loved him too.

he finally seemed eager
to learn, to live, to leave.
kids don't make it out of here
but I let him believe.

city kids are city kids.
they never travel far.
they will never see a garden,
just concrete, blood, and tar.

city kids don't breathe fresh air.
they smoke ****, cigs, cigars.
I wish that things were different
but this is how they are.

I wish that the boy four doors down
was able to be freed,
but just like all the other boys,
he had to stay and bleed.

that boy would sneak out late at night,
walking alone in silence.
he'd travel to the northwest side
with no fear of the violence.

every night, he'd stay awake.
his eyelids felt weighed down.
he didn't seem to notice.
I never saw him frown.

every day, he could be seen
doing what he always did.
with deals and deaths and drive-bys,
he didn't get to be a kid.

but none of that mattered
as soon as nighttime came.
he saw his girl when it got dark.
every night, it was the same.

until one night, the boy got stopped
and told to stay away.
the northwest side was not his side,
but he could not obey.

their romance turned to horror
and their love turned into fear.
I wish it didn't go this way,
but the end was clearly near.

city boys and city girls
never see what we call "fame."
they don't show up in newspapers,
and no one asks their names.

city boys die every day,
with bullets in their brains.
no one hears their cries for help.
no one feels their pain.

the young man living on my block
fell in love and saw no danger.
on the south side, he was sweet and shy.
away from home, he was a stranger.

he never made it out of here.
he didn't get to finish growing.
he went to see his perfect girl
but never got where he was going.

the next morning, his girl was told
how they found him on the ground.
she took a rope and went to bed
and that's where she was found.

******, pain, and gunshots
and a girl hung from her ceiling.
this city saw it all and more
and still, we aren't healing.

I think about him often now,
that boy from four doors down.
I wonder where he'd be today
if he had left this town.

two graves dug in the dirt too soon
are all that's left of them today.
you won't ever hear their stories
now that they've gone away.

a boy with hope still in his eyes
and dreams still in his mind
was stolen so abruptly
before it was his time.

a girl with love still in her heart
and faith still in her smile
was punished with a death sentence
but never had a trial.

he was a modern Romeo
and she was Juliet.
they fell in love and lost their lives
not even grown up yet.

a tragedy with pain and loss,
a true Shakespearean drama.
this is the kind of story
that leaves us all with trauma.

once, there was a boy and girl
who ended when they bled,
like characters inside a play
that they had never read.

they were taught how to survive,
who would hurt them, where to look.
they knew of pain and grief and death
but never learned to read a book.