In the deathly silence of the calm, I feel the clamming of my palms
As I lay awake in the dead of night, so often as I’ve done before
One thought echoes out, as I begin to be filled with doubt
How these feeling come about, about someone lingering past my door
But, I know I’m all alone and no one stands outside my door
Just my imagination, and nothing more

From the dead of night, a sound pierces ever slight
My ears perk up and my mind begins to explore
Where the faint noise comes from, while my body lays numb
In the darkness of the slum, this hum I can’t ignore
A heed or warning, resonating past my enclosed door
The sound rings out “Falling For”

Who is this trickster, trader, inside my home, a dangerous invader?
Calling out to me from beyond my hardwood floor
In the dead of night, amidst four walls void of light
If I scream, will foreign ears here my plight? Or will I be no more?
Has my time come to pass for all the wrongs I must answer for?
As the whisper calls out “Falling For”

My thoughts begin to carry, how I should be more wary
Am I being tricked? True meaning behind this “Falling For”
This devilish trickster, whether Ma’am or a Mister
Swindled me in a twister, my wealth and name I can’t restore
Unaware of this chaos looming, the loosing of the war
Is this what I’m “Falling For”

Or maybe love, my damsel calling, perhaps my heart is what’s falling
To the one that I so eagerly adore
Thoughts of grandeur fill my head, for a prospect to join my bed
Where stars and sky, the mind has read, finally the weary sailor arrives ashore
Greeted by his enduring spouse to whom long ago he swore.
That she, and only her was the one he’d Fallen For

In the dead of night my mind still racing, for the sound my ears still chasing
The whisper ever so slight of “Falling For”
Kept me up all night and going crazy, my thoughts once clear now are hazy
In the deafening silence, my body lazy, to venture out past my enclosed door
I struggled battling for the meaning my mind telling me folks of lore
Of this destined fate of “Falling For”


In the dead of night, rang out a murmur, ever so slight, the noise got firmer
Beyond the walls outside the enclosed door
Down the hall in another room, a forgotten token within a tomb
Where the noise began to resume, a music box within a drawer
Broken saying the same two words kept replaying,  “Falling For”
For it was this, and nothing more

The glare of morning off crystalline shells
Suits wove endlessly from lobby to desk.
Minute hand towers over 8:45
Pungent smells of black coffee,
Stale air perspiration absorbed by sterile tiles,
Downtown, Jersey, Brooklyn gleam
as the crescent copper sun continues
Lady Liberty smiles.
8:46
Before you knew the ground beneath you
shattered.
A blanket of black invaded the poorly ventilated
rooms.
Panic took over the buried primal instincts.
Another statistic, another number on the ledger
that will never balance.


About to open a folder piled upon the rest.
In a flash all shook with momentous force.
Screams echoed in fear of the unknown,
Chilling how quickly the room became dark,
The blue sky faded behind an unbreakable
wall
Unable to move pressed up against the cold
Glass
An attempt to escape the unforeseeable
Events
My head was pounding and breaths became
Forced
Break the window, just break the window
For God's’ sake we need air.
Ravenous orange had broken through the floor
And the four walls.
Upon contact the glass broke - air flooded in.
We hung out of the windows, gulps of air.
Make a decision, hope for pure intervention, a
Safety net.


1,2,3,jump…
Light as a feather when you leap from the 94th
Floor window.
Escaping the smothering black cloud from within.
Close your eyes, breathe, in and out.
What thoughts were going through your head?
Were you hoping for a miracle angel.
A tumbling image stuck on replay.
Your death captured in history.
You had to jump.
It was a very public way of dying.
Onlookers witnessed the whole ten-second journey.
Death was your only option: swallowed by
Painful singing flames or
A courageous end to your life.
Evil that day determined fire would seal your fate.
In a last attempt you fought back and cheated
Death’s cruelty.


Stuck at the window frame fixated on salvation.
There’s no other way, the heat is too hard to face.
Just step out, let go.
Fly through the clouds.
Hands clenched by my side my ears still ringing.
I breathe in a heavy breath, felt the air filling my lungs.
Sorrowed breaths.
Debris to chaos.
Ash to souls.
In midst of death it was serene.
Closed my eyes and let go.
The way i flew would’ve made my parents proud,
For that day the only thing that saved me was the
Camera that caught my body in suspense.
By a stranger in the crowd.

The never ending inferno of chaos
And heat.
That we need to survive and thrive.
There are fires within us, combustion
And flames
To fill the hollow, to bring us warmth.

by 14, the boy had realised that
home is not a sanctuary
that nothing comes for free
and that some fathers don't know how to love

by 16, he had decided that
even if answers couldn't be found
at the bottom of a bottle
he was **** well going to look there anyway

at 18, he was free;
his life was his own.
now he just had to work out what that meant.

and at 21 he realised that
his life was a little girl
with freckles on her face and stars in her eyes
who picked him flowers to make him smile
and made the chaos of his life a little busier.

she saved that prince
from the dragons
from the fire
and perhaps
from himself.

They say the world will end in peaceful chaos,
and nonsense will reign
all because of one split earlobe.
And in all anxiety of separateness,
there is, and will be found, something,
someone subdued.
A vague calm, awaiting the fury
when all is cold, lingering by the light
with four screeching magpies
talk, talk, talk.
A noisy chatter
that somehow is subdued-- Not subdued!
But fades away
into a constant hum
of static.
And that is the answer, always received.

The last word.  
"I have won!" They will say.
And to be conquered, oh, to be
something subdued.

And one morning, you will rise,
drowning in an ocean of light, always
reminding you
of  that daunting, waking presence
of degradation and evolution--
of the devils squawking from shoulder to shoulder,
fighting for a constant ear, pierced by all that noise--
That was always you.

They don't exist, but the boredom of living,
and the tedium of anxiety over one
healed earlobe, still split, of course, does.
But all is well.
It doesn't need to be apathy, this spinning
contradiction of existence and thought:

We need answers for everything,
so we make them, and we find them.
Never there,
and yet, always there too.
They say everything can be broken down
into smaller pieces and that makes for easy examination.
Easy observation.
They say everything exists at once, times one-thousand,
maybe more, neither here nor there.
Something simultaneous, someone everywhere.
The omnipotent mind, twisting himself
in and around, infinitely and  constantly,
and that makes all the difference.

It is meaningless.  And what will you do with all these
actions of resurrected futility?
Create a codependency, no doubt, on the magic of science and the ease
of technological advancements.  Continuing this evasive circle of modern life
and meaningless distraction-- Who can afford to live
and who cannot?
Surely, there is no winner.

We all get to the same place in the end, and knowledge,
unlike currency, through meaningless chatter,
may perhaps outlive you.

Down the hill
near the sea
Is a place
you'd have to see

Happiness
was ours each summer
me and my sister
and our sweet mother

The best times
were always there
but now memories are spoiled
it doesn't seem fair

When I close my eyes
I rewitness a terrible thing
it was a normal day
I was sitting on a swing

But then the war came
the bombings, destruction and defeat
There was so much chaos
I just remember dead bodies and heat

My sister was lying
to safe her own life
And then she had to leave me
become some soldiers wife

It was me left in rubble
Traumatised and lonely
Seen most terrible things
needed someone to hug me

And then a hand
suddenly grabbed mine
It was my dear mother
but she didn't look fine

A part of her skull
was blown away
She was dying in seconds
but had something to say

She was trying
but no words came to surface
She shed her last tear
we were both worthless

I was alone now
and didn't know what to do
no house and no mother
nothing to stick to

I left the little
house down the hill
And now thinking of my dreamhouse
makes me feel cold and ill

Another handful stuffing stresses down my core hoping their buried seeds won't grow to cause chaos in my mind's bright and warm sky of daydreams for the dark and cold clouds will destroy the view of a beautiful place.

your promises meant nothing to you,

but i let them mean everything to me.

& now you're gone

away with my heart,

leaving behind chaos
                           confusion

                           & leaving me behind

now nothing more than a shell

of the human i once used to be

My mind is empty, passive, yet filled with chaos from the past.

Afraid to feel again, to give in.

Scared this is another trap.

What can I give him that no one else can? Why me?

Is there another hidden agenda?

I can't resist his words, yet they scare me to death.

It's like a love song I wanna play on repeat,
but still wishing that the record would break.

Before I do.

I’m losing my mind in this cold world,
for I lost all my blow in the snow,
so I went to Jupiter to meet with Jesus.
He told me I should go and find Zeus,
I told him that I already found him.
The look of befuddlement on his face
blended in with His beard.
I took a break to ring around the rosy,
half an hour later I had a **** nosebleed.

Everything out in space is chaotic
Where curiosity doesn’t constitute
craziness… Wait, does it?
I don’t know, my mind is racing against time.
Just as smoke dissipates out of fire,
You can’t put the pieces of Pandora’s
box back together.

Chaos and disorder came only after
the Big Bang.
But, what happens to all of us when
we stop expanding?
This everlasting expansion turns to a
controlled compression,
and we will no longer be in control
of ourselves.

We will no longer ponder the fate of
what is unknown,
but fear the fate of what we do know.
We will no longer seek to discover
what is hidden,
but settle with everything we do know
and become complacent.

While I do know I do not know
everything there is to know,
I will not float through space
without landing upon a star.

My father speaks to me daily.
In my infancy as a dream my childhood a sigh my youth rustling leaf.
He walks a path unknown to me yet and still.
In my boyhood a whisper.

A grumbling prophet in my youth a subtle **** in my rutting time. A cautionary tale in my wanderings, my father.

My father took residence in my mirror in my wisdom took a stand in my slight declining. Took Pitty in my questing.

He stands at my back in chaos by my side in victory
By my manhood by my word.
He is
Here now and always.

Forgive the night
And it's scattered ashes
It's morbid children
Casting lots for the
Bruised garments of a
Reluctant martyr
Satyrs and shaman
Sages and madmen
Derelict casinos
And broken boulevards.

Forgive the night
Fearless and feral
The desolate moon betrothed
To truant stars
That forgot to shine
And unanswered prayers
That forgot to die
Brooding orchids nodding
Towards an unresponsive sky.

Forgive the night
It's tapestry of shadows
It's soliloquy of loss and longing
It's conspiracies of silence
It's unrelenting chaos

Forgive the night
It's gospels of oblivion
It's prose written in curdled moonlight.

Forgive the night
It's orphans of Cain
Wandering, forever wandering
In kingdoms of perpetual obscurity
Carrying their mark proudly
As a ruthless crown.

This is the way of things here.

A girl who was familiar with bruises,
shouting and harsh words no longer made her ears ring.
An elementary school girl who learned what it meant when her parents were too drowsy to speak,
borrowing money meant she’d never see it again.
A teenager who knew that her family would not change,
promises were never certain and lies would always be.
A young adult who now continued the abuse on herself,
pain was a constant and always self inflicted.
Can she be blamed for how she was taught to love?
Can you hold her accountable for the ways she learned to protect herself?

for thousands of [       ] Millennia;
since the first    clouds   parted - I
don't imagine  the idea of   [girls]
even existed     until       someone
thought it was  a good idea to lay
w/ them - firstly, it was dark
as starlight was the        only light
at night & the sheen off the
sweaty haunches         brought the
men & boys out of their     holes
attracted by the pungent   aroma
from the female holes &  bodies

It was the longest of days
It was the shortest...
Spring is blazing dull
A fire pit of icicles
Brutal suggestion in the day
Gentle persuasion under the moon
Crippling voices turn to static
As bodies melt in heat
As bodies melt in sleep
Spin the hands on the clock
Like you spin the bottle
Smash it on the floor
As you blow a kiss to Saturn
Avoiding your reflection as you
Walk upon the shards of daggers
Just like you ignored her mouth
While kissing her lips of poison
Never changing with the seasons
Just adapting to the temperature
Of a soul the color of chaos
Of a heart with no price tag but massive debt
Laying out bread crumbs
With words as your bait
Like a senile, crooked tree
Trying to divorce its fate

I woke up to the sound of nothing
The stillness I forgot amidst the chaos of work
I woke up wanting to do something
But all I could think of was work

What did I even do for fun?
A cup of tea? Smoke some ****?
Those were the wrong thoughts
That was all for stress relief

Now I'm squeezing stress from nothing
An empty room an empty phone
It was my day off
And I had nothing to do

Time was running out
And my day off became another off day.

Was upon the stages of manifestation
she said it by accident at least in her personality
cannot yet find methods of balancing chaos magic
a newbie had quick to birth
so felt the pains of a mother
incubation in the cellar confines
amongst the spider webs with fifth to seek higher parents
He looks like me
he speaks like me
he tried like me
in some ways hes beyond me

People have always told me my eyes turn grey like the stormy skies.
Like the weathers chaos is being reflected in my very eyes.
My tears are the raindrops, when the cloud cries.

Maybe I should keep my head down on the ground.
Maybe my emotions will be more sound.
Maybe when the sun in shining my soul will be found.

Until then I'll remain sad
But I guess the rain isnt so bad
I mean mother nature could always be mad.

You dip your toes into this glass still pond
so steadily, and yet I know your heart is racing.
I see the flicker of panic in your eyes, and the
tugging desire you have to jump in.
I see it there in the strain of your well formed muscles
and the quick rise and fall of your chest.
It's so quiet here, isn't it?
In this wet mirror where you see such a peaceful vision
of the way things are, and you don't want to
stir and ripple, to see what will be.
I know your kind, and I know the way you fear
and the way you consume.
You will eat up this stillness until chaos blooms
from these reeds and crickets and warm scents.
You want the summer I hold,
it lives in the way I kiss and hold and smile.
Come here and sit by me.
Hold my hand and listen to the sun sing on your skin
and feel the warm breezes on your face.
Everything will be alright.
Just stay.

It's a bad habit I've picked up,
that when I start getting confused
about life I panic, want to run.
You see, it just seems infinitely
easier to leave it all behind,
let the chaos remain while I go
                                                              ­           somewhere
unknown and begin anew.
I've seen it time and again,
bore witness to the pattern
as my mom loaded us up and fled.
As a child I hated being forced
to pick up my entire life to go
                                                                ­            along
for a ride I never wanted.
As an adult though, I understand,
more completely than I would ever
have thought possible. And now
is one of those pivotal times
I'm stuck contemplating
                                                                ­           the way
out of the mess I've created.
I know the routine all too well:
sell all, keep only what fits
in the back of the car. All else
is extraneous, replaceable.
Drive without purpose until
                                                                ­           I've lost
all semblance of an endpoint.
Where I end up is where I go.
Some try to tell me that this
method of coping is unhealthy,
but how can I fight its allure?
When my mind becomes madness
and I can't figure my life out,
what's a better solution than
running, flight over fight,
no one to complicate things, only
                                                                ­            myself.

Time wasters
Talk circles around my rolling eyes,
Nothing escapes them
But the point
Which is now ground duller than their wit.
Once proud pinnacles of though
Cannot be distinguished from
Littered words crusading for air.
Sunken cities subsist on stale ideas
And move feebly into tomorrow
As they shake the claws of yesterday
Only to suffer today.

But new ideas breathe resurrection
As chaos polishes the rusted ring
And births a dancing star.

Raindrops falling to parched earth
Bringing now growth flowing forth
Jesters brightly dressed dance to the court
As waiting wine brings on the thought
Past echoes with there canyons wide
Divided thoughts they soon take side
As waiting in lifes open wings
The monkey waits and patiently he sings
Never realizing his time is now past
Never to again bring chaos to the pass
Addictions shadow lingers still
Choices now mine for good or ill
Chained and caged in times gone past
Forgotten memories of the kind that last
Fleeting freedoms visions of warm sunrise
Rebuilding worth from times gone by
Relapse options used too many times
Years stretching ahead to realize
Where we can be some years from now
If we but tap lifes higher power
All things now within our grasp
No longer slaves to our wasted past
Bringing only those good things
Forgiving all those broken dreams

(GE2014) (C) Reserved

My heart aches for you

My eyes cry for you

My senses long for you

I, feel numb without you

My smiles wither without you

My soul thirsts for you

My body shivers without you

Please, tell me what to do

I miss you

Your void in my life, ever since you left

Has caused an unstoppable emotional leakage

My heart and mind are never in-sync

And I am shivering as I write this message

My heart is crying because it is alone

It is weeping, without making a sound

My soul if burdened with sad emotions

Which feel heavier, than a thousand pounds

I miss you

All the pictures of you and me

Are a sweet reminder of the good times

It was when we could be together

Life, was like a sweet poetry in perfect rhyme

But now that you’ve gone away

Everything has been thrown askew

Plunged, in a painful sense of chaos

My life, can only be set straight by you

I miss you

Without you

Sweet tastes sour

And nothing in this world

Seems worthy enough to devour

Coffee and hot chocolate

Just doesn’t taste the same

Going out to have ice cream

Feels boring and pretty lame

Without your awesome hugs

Life has turned monochrome

I’m like a lost puppy

Desperately searching for a home

I miss you

Insanity
Is how it shall be
Now that normality
Has departed,
Long gone
And uncharted

That line in the sand
It did expand
It swallowed whole
Every unstable soul
Every extremist
Every fanatical fantasist

Our morals drowning
In a sea of demons
An ocean of dystopian dreams,
Where we now lust and embrace
Such ludicrous extremes,
Vivid vivisections
Of intricate intersections

This alternative in place
Wears a mask on it's face
A disguise of lies
With a desire to despise
A parade of a pompous parody
To control through chaos
And manipulate humanity

Careful how you tread
And from whose hand you are fed
What you seek as innocence
Is ***** under the influence
Drugged and deranged
Compassion exchanged
On the stock market floated
And for all of this ,
This life of inadequacy
We stood in lines and voted

Sometimes I sit so blank as now,
Quietly--- no thoughts, no actions;
Devoid of pressure, of stress or tension.
I don’t know what can disturb this peace!


And sometimes, my mind is a battlefield;
I keep thinking and thinking—
Reflecting--- What’s right? What’s wrong?
And checking my actions, my behaviour –
What should I regret? What should I promise?
A quarrel with my beliefs, a war with all concepts.
Thoughts and emotions invade me like demons.
Each demon has a new story to tell.
They keep me working out, solving out
Everything that’s a part of this world.
They run wild, they toy with me.
Oh! I cant stop thinking!
Sometimes, they come united as an army;
They deprive me of sleep – my mind knows no calm rest.
I am thinking, I am thinking –
They force me to concentrate—Oh! I am tired.
There are solutions and there is me to derive it.
The sounding noise, the chaos, the confusion----
I don’t know what can give any peace!

A battle rages, and I am left defeated.
They strike on me wounds of experience, of knowledge.
They push me on, drag me on forcefully
Along the roads of learning, of growth.
They sharpen my mind, they force wisdom on me.
At the end of it all,
I am a hero—I have surpassed all tests.
I have travelled beyond boundaries, I have fought all limits.
I have known what war is—I have satisfied my demons!


The fight ensues----
Oh, I can’t stop thinking!
And sometimes like now,
There is that silence after the war—
The stains of battle remain;
But I have put down my sword--
The rest the hero deserves

Trouble can take a stable man,
And make him go quite mad.
Uncertain just why she visited,
Make him wish she never had.

But there is no stopping Trouble.
She waits around every bend.
But once you do get used to her,
You may just call her "friend."

And yes, she may bring chaos,
As Trouble's been known to do,
But there's no avoiding it once,
Trouble's taken a liking to you.

And there is no need to worry,
Please do not worry at all.
Trouble needs your number,
To make an international call.

We died many times when we first met.
They’d say electric. You provided the shock.
I was in need of repairs,
a faulty motor with a clogged-up engine,
stumbling through life
like a Slinky
yawning its bones
down the stairs.

You played me well at first,
fingers on my body,
twiddled me back into tune.
We’d die again.
When we kissed
I tasted Malboro and Merlot.
I fell right into it,
you like a glossy new balloon,
a chaos of colour on my lips
left me spellbound.
We’d die again.
Then the moment would pop.
You’d be standing with a pin.

Met your parents.
They noddingly-approved between
gulps of Heineken,
but I knew we wouldn’t last.
It fell apart, of course.
Somebody ruined the jigsaw.
Started hurling snowballs
at each other, words like razors
shredding through the air.
We’d die again.

A slammed door, gone
to the corner-shop for milk
in a huff.
An eff-you blurting
out from the phone.
The shock had gone.
I think I’m dying again.

It's 10 pm, Saturday night. I'm down in Jessie's place, just to join her in a lust filled night of sorts. Her blonde hair radiating from the lamp on the night stand. I carry her in my arms, both arms out resembling a father carrying a newborn baby except she wasn't my baby, not in that sense anyways. The tension in the air was so thick that even a butter knife couldn't spread the tension, but me and jessie had spread on our mind.

I could smell her alluring scent as I lay her down onto the bed, it must have been the thrill of daring to step into a boundary we had no knowledge existed. Love thy neighbour as heavenly quoted by men and women all around the world, I guess I was abiding by what I have been taught.

A little bit about Jessie, Jessie had these mesmerising blue eyes and had a husband, John,a fine husband, a brave husband who was filled with love.  John wasn't ever one to toot his own horns but he had the right to refer to himself in the third person, why wouldn't John be given the right? He's awesome and extremely brilliant at that. Nothing short of Superman or Einstein is what John has been told.

Jessie has been my neighbour for years, ever since I could remember. I drink a lot, so I haven't exactly the best memory of when or wheres. It was how we met, she was my neighbour and I was hers. Now we were closer, so close to the point that I could see her blue eyes staring into mine.

"Jess, I hope it's Ok, I wrote you ... a little poem. That's not...umm too weird right ?"

"Sure, as long as it's not something too eerie. Don't be too...what's that word?... Sappy" Jessie nodding in agreeance.

The words glided out of my lips like a gold medalist ice skater, with elegance and soft subtle seductive intentions.

'Love is like an ocean,
The sounds of crashing waves against rocks,
That mimic the sound of my heartbeat,
Love is more than an emotion,
Love is the echo of water dripping in a cave,
Love is a poison and a potion,
It is the pollen that fills the spring air,
Love can cause chaos and beauty
It holds onto your hearts and never lets go'.

I ended my recital by looking into Jessie's direction for affirmation of its quality, I couldn't actually pinpoint her ****** response but I'll try my best to capture it. Her eyes, rolled to one side in a condescending and demeaning manner but her smile was filled with some sort of ...actual craving for more.

My lips shot forward similar to the teens 'duck-face selfie poses', and I asked "So... do you ... like?".

Silence...

I waited for a little longer, or what felt like an eternity in my mind's timeframe.

Silence again...

I expressed my regret "Sorry, I'll recite another one?... Yes? "

"The sun and the moon,
You see they were friends,
But not everything twist and bends,
And even though the sun loved the moon,
He had loved her since yesterday's noon,
When she wasn't even around, he loved her.
Somewhere far away in the horizons,
It clearly never seemed to occur,
In her mind that he was thinking of her.
So every night, while birds and bees went to sleep
He died.
Just so her light could shine above his.
He died.
Just so her close friends, the stars could visit.
He died.
Just so the world appreciated her beauty,
Rather than his necessity."

Jessie still dressed in her singlet and underwear, quickly rose on two feet as a Chevrolet pulls up her driveway. A man with a neanderthal-like figure burst through the door yelling, ' I leave for business... and ya'll ******* in my house? ON MY ******* BED!!'

I tried my best to get past his door, because it was the only way I knew I would be able to keep my current state, the state of being still alive.
...

Jessie trying to explain everything with words, yes ...trying to use words with what clearly is a caveman.

'Darlin' we didn't do anything, he's just here yappin' on about something with moons and suns. I swear, I didn't do anything indecent'.

The caveman spoke again, in proper non-swearing, non-screaming English.
     'Sons? He was tryin' to put a baby in you? THAT'S IT!!.. Imma **** him!!'

That was the day I met John.

Through sickness I live like this egg
-who must restructure himself  
           within a cracked shell
Both torn of safety and of innocence
And cresting through the flux of chaos
An amalgamation of both worlds  
           ever more foreign than last