What is 1 to 1.5

currency to relativity

urgency brings negativity

It's not about new tools

it withers your tools bring productivity

The way you slap that old guitar, the way you drive that beat up car

How fast does it run? How long does it last? How fast does it charge?

New can only take you so far

Let that distance your reach be derived from a skill, not from how rich or famous your are.

I often walk, even though I own a car...I prefer feeling the wind, the open-air, it makes me feel like I'm apart of something

The emotions I feel are driven from an organic substance, the dirt that I see the wind that I feel..these constant conflicts between what is man-made and what was here.

The stare of a deer, the tree was its friend, it's now been destroyed to make a path of cement.

That path of cement created a state of solidarity, urban prosperity, violence numbified by media regularities.

Civilizations become the norm, even though we all barely speak to each other physically

Digital formats become our literal floor mats, every result you leave results in a digital footprint, cataloged for the marketing lab rats

Too complex to understand like a physical labyrinth, Let me elaborate

So let me ask you ?! What is 1 to 1.5

Can you live without your social media vices, multimedia devices, tell me the definition of what "like" is

Currency, urgency, thumbs up if you feel like every part of your life is an emergency, if so then share it,
so the world can see

Then watch your conversations about fashion turn into a targeted ad about a jacket that is burgundy

Invasion of privacy? Not if your privacy is for the world to see.

Coincidently that jacket is on sale, so if you buy it this theory will not fail, and if you don't the media will still prevail, it's presence is an entire quarter, meaning it's heads or tails.

That's urgency hiding behind a veil.

got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter
my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates
the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to
just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there
Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning
my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies
im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them
i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence
no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them
nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing
there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin
we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria
we ride for adventure on two weels
interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens
my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary
rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions
if you dont contact me then why should I
I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword
That child support is piling up, I dont really care
got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city
Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer
Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful
I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along
Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains
Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke
these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived
my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public
I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more?
i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day

creative destruction
too beautiful to fault until ashes
(and even then all I want is a different ending or none at all).
silent sunrise that you can’t hear but you can feeeEEEEL
elsewhere.
the hum of existence and how you always danced around it
and coincidently it never lined up for me.
self is such a strange concept that sometimes I forget
and other times it consumes and I am    sorry  so    sorry.
what are you if you aren’t always discovering?
what is she when there is a cost?
what would she have been if rewind and stand outside to see truth
it’s like looking through a kaleidoscope
what is the magnitude?
axiom
this is called spring
and I’m through wasting it.

not many people know what it feels like to cut themselves open in slow motion and feel the blood drops change from raindrops to tidal waves before their very eyes,
that were coincidently dripping too.
similar to the way it felt when my feelings for you started to pour through and all i could do was try to hold them all back and stitch up the cracks before i'd lost too much and fallen too hard, landing in a puddle of red that could very well have been what was left of my broken heart.


↠mndi➣

They tell me it isn't love.
That it's not right
that I fall for someone I've never seen before.
Well I have.
And you just can't
"un-fall" in love with someone.

I guess it's the way you smile
And shine, cause baby,
You are like a star
In a New York City sky,
The only one up there,
All by your lonesome,
Standing strong,
Shining bright
In the dark midnight.

Or maybe it's the sparkle in your eyes,
That shimmer like the sun
On miami waves.

Or maybe even the way you tell me those stories of yours,
Leaving me wanting to know more,
But of course I'm too shy to ask.

I'm not sure what exactly it is,
But I'm attracted
(The way north pole of a magnet is attracted to a south pole of magnet haha oops science puns)
To everything about you.

You tell me you want to be a rockstar.
Well you already are to me.
You tell me all your "flaws"
I tell you that's what makes you
perfect to me.

So I just wanted to tell you,
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, dear,
And

-pulls over some mistletoe-
Oh! Look! Seems like we are "coincidently" under some mistletoe!
-grabs you and kisses you-

I love you more ;)

With lots of love,
Your bizarre, clingy, and random creep,
Li ;)

Have you ever Know-ticed me?
I mean truly Know-ticed me,
Look through my eyes and into my soul to grasp who I sincerely was, am, and will be?
My internal splendor, no sugar
I don’t think you do…
You may think you know but it’s apparent that you have NO ******* IDEA!
Excuse the cliché but it served its purpose so let’s continue…
Do you Know-tice me?
Do you notice that my pain seems endless, as if the Emancipation Proclamation was just an urban legend and I’m experiencing the 5th century of my peoples enslavement?
Do you notice that my smile seems brokenly forced, only coming to life in the midst of dreams of being shipped home to you?
Do you notice that my heart is internally broken externally hidden only allowing the lurid utterances of, “I DON’T GIVE A *******!”?
Did you notice the trajectory of my tears detaching me from you?
Most importantly do you notice my undying love along with the uncompromising yearning I have for you?
All of which are mere memories like…
Your captivating voice, alluring me into riveting conversations that seems to be unforgettable something I can’t dismiss
Your slow touches
Your penetrating stares
Your unfathomable yet insinuating kisses
Your love or to put it quite simply your care because to love would be entirely too much for you at the time when time was nonexistent in my mind, no clock, I wanted to Know-tice you,
Nevertheless,
No I don’t think you Know-ticed!
If you did you would have noticed how I desire your affection and loath your constant dismissal of my essence
My existence seems to matter not but here I am… waiting and I can’t rest! Believe me you I’ve tried!
But then again maybe you do notice and although this may be the hardest to acknowledge on my behalf, I may have to come to terms that you DON’T ******* CARE!
Meaning… you would fail to notice that I’ve cut all emotional physical and mental ties with my heart only to join forces with my mind creating a relentless partnership against the thought of this empty middle’s sensitivity!
Or, that I can’t look at you without hurting!
Or, that I can’t lounge in your presence so silence becomes my friend, leaving me to become sworn enemies with verbal expression and these relationships coincidently only exists when you’re around!
And finally which holds even more significance, that I treasured you and still do as a lover but MORE as a friend!
But I don’t think you Know-tice!
I need you to know this is my own analysis and reaction to the entire state of our affair. So in response, I’ve come to the realization that you never noticed nor wanted to Know-tice me, everything just happened, it was ALL meaningless. So regardless of what I’ve felt, am feeling, or will feel! You become the commemoration, a constant but unconscious drive, of my callous feelings towards the possibility of ever wanting to Know-tice another, EVER again. I wanted, want, and will forever want to Know-tice you! But that doesn’t matter anymore because you’ll never notice sincerely my past, present or future, you treat them like me who you never did want to Know-tice!

I've never been in love
though I write of it a lot
I haven't gotten a special someone sent from above
and if I'd ever gotten feelings, I wouldn't take a shot
because I'm not the person I write about being
but it is the person I hope to be
writing is my way of fleeing
my sad and lonely reality

I write about catching feelings
but it's only happened just one time
though it wasn't too appealing
it could've been because I'm still in my prime,
although I don't think I really liked him even from the start
he wasn't like the dream boys I'd write about
and when I lost those feelings it didn't break my heart
he had seemed like something I could simply live without

I've never had a boyfriend
even if my poems tell you differently
I'm not sure who I'll spend my days with till the end
and the people I write of are those I wish I had, coincidently
though I don't wish to have one
at least not now, I think I'm far too young
and most girls I know already have it said and done
but I wouldn't want a relationship so soon sprung

I've never hugged a boy
at least not in a romantic kind of way
I've never met one that made me feel that type of joy
but I'm not caught up in that kind of cliche
I have time to wait for one who's sweet
I'm not in too much of a rush
sometimes I do wish to be swept off my feet
but so far, none have really made me fall, but only blush

so no I haven't been in love
though I write of it a lot
because its something one can dream of
and yes, I wish I've known what that feels like, but no, I have not


© L.F.

You said
It might be better
For us to be strangers again

Strangers who have no idea about each other
Who do not know anything about
Our favourite food (so I should start forgetting that you do not eat tomatoes, pineapples and olives; and that I should be willing to eat them all for you because coincidently, they were my favourite)
Or the way we want our eggs cooked
(crunchy on the side. soft yolk - mine, well done)
Or our dreams, failures, fears and inhibitions.

But remember,
We were once strangers
That one September day (it was the seventh, I believe)
I first got a glimpse
Of that little girl
That would change my life for eternity

And when I see you again
I will make you remember
This stranger
That loved you and known you more than
any stranger could do.

Going to her house because you had a play date with her brother but you know why you’re really there
“Coincidently” bumping into her at Coney Island after feeling compelled to go down there when you saw her Snapchat story
Making group plans but only really inviting her and saying everyone cancelled
Snuggled up with her on the couch thinking back to the memories you shared
You were in love-no you are in love, there was no doubt she was worth the wait
She gave you unconditional love and support so you gave her a ring
Fair trade?

I would like to go back a thousand years ago,
just to sleep.
For I'm drenched in thoughtlessness.
I ache for some relieve.
And I'm trying, solely not to burn up.
and I do not mean to over dramatize, but I'm lost.
Which I guess is usual for being 20.
Only 20, as I eat myself up in tv shows and confusion.
And I watch the world get married and have babies, but I don't want that,
No I don't need that.
Nor do I really want that.
As profs talk as if I care, about their useless pieces of info they throw at me, except the one about dinos. I like that.
But anyways I sit and here they look at me as if I really give a ****.
I want a job. Don't they understand.
And I parked in the wrong spot today,
and the critique went bad and I overpaid on an earl grey latte and wasted my day watching friends all day.
But we all have those bad days.
And I'm trying trying trying so hard not to think bad thoughts.
But the weather is rainy, and I'm still tired. This ever longing tiredness. But I drew today. I drew my sorrows away, and no matter what those stingy profs say, I can draw. I draw to keep myself together.
I draw so I don't think the bad thoughts, to keep my jealous thoughts back at bay. So I quit making a fool of myself, the only think I know how to do is draw.
And I have a wide open summer, of no plans, or prospering, or any real progress.
Isn't that sad?
To dread your own summer.
Maybe after having summer so many times, it loses it's freedom quality. It becomes just another season to endure.
And that's sad. It's sad when you can't look forward to summer.
Cause summer was once a fantasy.
A sense of adventure accompanied summer.
And I look at summer now with a dread and inability to really be ready or excited for it.
That's really sad.
And I'm not writing to make you sad, but I'm writing out of my inability to understand this sadness.
I'm trying to hold on to something...
Maybe this sadness will pass into something I can hold onto.
And coincidently were talking about the blues...in class.
Not really helping my melancholy frankly.
I think teachers are so wrapped up in their own cynical life they like to spread it onto others.

I’m sitting in a lawn chair
At the edge of the moon’s well cratered chest
I’m facing a woman whose company is pricy and measured by rounded hours
She sits full lotus
Supple legs twist in a curving swirl
Seated on the glass surface of the coffee table
Young and slight enough to have no rational fear of it shattering beneath her

I ask to ask her something
She simpers
Anything
So I begin my slurred inquiry
If there was a God
And
And it told you that
Today was the day you would die
But it would spare you and let you live on well
Well
Into old age if you could give a good reason why
It should let you live then
What would your reason be
I belch a pig’s roar
What would your reason be

She simpers again
Ooooh **** that’s a good question
She toys with the starched mass of her hair
Flailing to be remembered by me and gain another loyal customer

I guess
I guess I’d say that I had a daughter and
Do
You have a daughter
She’s nineteen at the oldest
Yesss I do
I blink
What’s her name
Her name is Nelly
So
So you’d say you had a daughter and
And that she needs me
She loves me
I love her
I can’t leave her alone

In the center of the dark and lashed ellipses that halo her hazel eyes
I’m finally seeing a woman

She tilts her face
Her bangs silk to her jawbone
What would your reason be

I unscrew my flask

I wouldn’t give one
I deserve to die
However
Luckily for me
This life is unfair and unjust
In reality
You can plead to God all you want but even if it hears you
It won’t stop what it’s already made
And what it’s made is death

We’re both still facing each other
But we’re not looking at each other anymore
We’re both staring at space’s unfathomable darkness
The all consuming black

I know from where she is
She can see the Earth
She can see the spins of white puff
The emerald and umber chunks
The deep sapphire that coats the planet’s skin
Maybe she’s thinking of Nelly

From where I sit
All I can see are the tiny scabs of distant stars
Moth bites
In an all swallowing cloak

I check my watch
My current bill is approximately 1,600USD
I hear her voice
For the first time today
Her voice is genuine and entirely naked
Are you saying that God doesn’t save anyone

The weight of the knife in my pocket
Feels heavier than it should be
Especially here
The craters of the moon are yawning wide
They’ve always made perfect graves

I drink the last gulp of bourbon from my flask

Before I answer her
I wonder if her question is also asked by the others
The high piled and shallow buried
Crisscrossing one another
Overlapped like piles of pottery pieces
Or shards of shale
They lie
Trapped on the sun’s mirror
Lifelessly embracing and lying upon each other
Coincidently kissing each others wounds
Stuffed in the stony rings of the craters of the graying moon

Some I left floating in lakes
Both here
And back on Earth

Are they all wordlessly asking each other
Screaming through sunken faces
Won’t God save us
Doesn’t God save anyone

I toss my flask to the side
It takes forever to fall

Well
Charlotte
As far as I’m concerned
He hasn’t saved anyone yet

This is a great time to be alive.
It coincidently is also the only time that exists.
Right now. Yes, this time - Now.
It's great.
Possibly even greater than Great.
What's greater than Great though?
The time that never passes and is always present.
Well, duh.
As is the fact that the entire universe even exists.
How weird is that?
Where did the universe even come from?
Why is there a universe?
Are there other universes?

Great questions take great time for great answers.
The time that never passes and is always present -
What a great time to be in,
To be alive within -
It may not be an answer to anything,
But within that space, there's no need for questions anyhow.
The beauty is too overwhelming to think.
That's why I pray,
and say as I may -
This is a great time to be alive.

We exist in this space and time, but yet I don't know if we are supposed to go through other spaces and times coincidently.
…
Funny also how we've been in the exact same places but at different times.

Really all this time we drove and you felt the music in you as I did and as you danced, your fingers got knotted in my hair. then inside of me.
at night I held your arm and locked it round my back over my chest - a lock to a cage that I long ago had lost the key to. you had kissed me all night long and you were so coincidently unvisible under the dimmed lights, that you were there. you would pull the hair away from my ear and lean over me warmly; then back into my ear you would regurgitate everything I had fuelled you with until I fell back asleep.
thats why it worked for so long because I lived in two people, as false and as ****** as another. and thats why you're never in because you are sick with lies I diagnosed you in. when you look its always at me. when we pass its felt the same. - thats what the poison tastes of.

All education and habit
instigation occurs in time used
coincidently with life's constant,
kudzu will to make life livable in senses

only one fully functional can make, ah,
and we know mankind can become broken,
fail to function for any good use imaginable,

while using carnal mind made excuses to steal,
take away the ra' effort of the tamer of horses,

rob the seed stored for the sure and certain
cold to come, watch the birds flying south,

wonder where the wild goose leads, indeed,
come, and see, let this mind be in you, linked
to all a mortal has time to think twice, once
in slack jaw awe, as we appear in thought, once

aha, we may imagine, all alike, first knowing, yes,
that works, that has utility to me, see, I know,

how to catch a rabbit, and take it's life, for me,
and my baby who shall soon see winter, first,

and play for a minute in cold, cold snow,
not giving any thought to the bunny fur.

You are long gone
Emptiness is what remains
Living a life with out you in it
I used to cry you a river
I would have taken a bullet for you
Real definition of a ride or die
We were different creatures who crossed paths coincidently because in reality we wouldn’t have
We were like parallel lines
never to intersect
Yet the only time we did intersect is when you crossed my mind