I'm not afraid to these stories ,
roaming around our town
or how you coped with nightmares.
I'm scared on the silence of night
the absence of the absent
the feeling of longing
the feeling of striving
the effort of 'you have to'.

It's even when you wake up
knowing that sunlit wasn't enough.

A boy drags his feet along aged train tracks uncomfortably alone.
He wonders as he wanders if he'll ever find the deserved sanctuary he can call home.

A drone in a buzzing society, looking past all you see.
Nothing but a suitcase in hand, some would call him free.

But he's lost.  

No GPS or CVS will show him what he needs.
Wallowing in his own misery looking into the night sky with greed.
Is satisfaction, another happening that only comes in threes?
While the melancholy waves rush at him in one-hundred fifteens?

..116

He spots a leaf, only one on the tree, and immediately it falls.
He has a phone, on silence mode because he doesn't answer anymore calls.  
You see he's traveled many greens just to see that the other side wasn't better.
All this time he contemplates mistakes whether or not he should regret her.  
He won't forget her.  
Taken over his mind, surely he's let her.
He bets her life is much better than his own.
Sitting on the side of the crossroads he tried to express how he felt in stone

Unable to grasp any clear emotion, at last he grabs what he's held on to all this time.
This suitcase of his, an eternal abyss, of all that which he'd coped with through rhyme.
The baggage he claims, that have been the remains, of every action he's ever endured.
A riddle was placed on the lock to keep safe, until the time in which he knew he was sure.

"What pumps you up and slows you down, brings forth smiles, but also frowns?"

He thought about it for a minute and heard a coyote howl
Suddenly jumped up from fear, looked around and then let out a smile.  

He knew then, as the tempo to his beat decreased that it was his heart.
The suitcase burst open, and once he looked in,
Realized he was blessed from the start.  
Hard drives worth of memories led him to sin
But also the epiphany that home was always within, and not so far apart.

Feelings burst out and wrapped up his being like a blanket not meant for security.
Embracing reality and letting go of miscues he's intertwined with a glowing sense of purity.
Bloated on love he rises above, and flows on with the wind much like a free balloon.
Sincerity to himself and the world around him made the corners of his mouth curl up to the moon.

The future's unknown but now he'll always be home,
With his heart beating comfortably.
He misses them all, will soon return all phone calls,
Knowing he found where he's meant to be

I think that the scent of a blunt all over me will always remind me on those late nights and early mornings we spent on the rooftop of a building, you rolling a joint and we're smoking it up until our lungs gave up on us. It will remind me every time people hot box a room and it is filled up with smoke and in those smoke clouds I will forever see you lighting up that blunt and you give me that smile in your face and you offer me some. I might just be hallucinating with the fact that your face is still clear but everything in my surrounding is becoming a blur. Whenever I see a person about to light up with a spliff, my mind wanders off and looks for you even if you aren't there in the very moment. Pretty sure this has become your signature scent because no matter what I end up thinking about you. Some people may not be able to appreciate and cannot withstand of how it smells, but to me it means everything. Cause with the months of hanging out together I've learned to love it and I know whenever I am with you I breathe in the smell of happiness, because with you that is what I truly feel. With all the memories shared and made, I learned to have a liking for this scent and this is how I've also learned how to love you. I got to know that this is how you sometimes coped with problems, how you bonded with friends, and how you spent your free time. Hence to when I smell a blunt it reminds me of home and your sweet embrace, for you are my home and your arms is where I feel most safe. The hours between 1 am to 4 am have never felt so high and amazing and it is truly an amazing feeling. A connection I've never had with anyone before. I smile when I get to smell a blunt because the thought of you brings joy in my life and I hope that I'll never lose my home.

I almost never look at them anymore
The scars left behind
White lines
And Dashes
Across my left wrist
One from when my cat scratched me
One from the first time I coped with a blade
One from before I knew how to hide them
I almost never look
But they’re still there, and they look at me
And sometimes, 8 years later
I get so unstable
I want to pick up the scissors
I want to see the pain taking form
So that I don’t have to hold it in
Anymore, but
I don’t because I feel like
It would create a burden on you that
I’m not willing to place and
Because I know I’m stronger than the scissor blades
And because
I like to wear sleeveless shirts even in the winter

"don't look back, you'll turn to stone"
the words i heard driving past my old home
melancholic breeze sending sweet messages to my tachycardia ridden body, a bird that passes through in peace but drops dead like a fly within my smoldering territory
remembering the years I spent inside that home, time that in my fragile state today i'd mistakenly describe as a respite from my current place
but as I sink into my seat, the sobering reality that I am the same motionless vessel that I was then begins to set in
the labyrinth I could not escape still pervades my every waking moment
the days I coped with promises to myself, from a wealth of unearned confidence that has long since run dry
the only difference between them and me being the destiny I coaxed myself into believing at seventeen

i am a worthless pillar of salt

cursed from the moment a devil pointed his finger at something behind me

my most prominent childhood memory
is when i stood barefoot in the snow
screaming for my mommy.
it was hard to see her go.

i understand now why my father
drinks beer day in and out
because i know the feeling to want something nearer
or close to your mouth.

i was ***** by the same person
who molested me when i was four
i was just sixteen, wasnt even over the first one
same year mommy died, i turned into a *****.

i was in love with a hurricane
and it ate me alive
no use for Novocaine,
i could hardly survive.

last hospitalization
the sixth time i spent a week
with intravenous medication
for my soul to keep.

the first song i wrote was
about my step father
as he tried to push mommy down the stairs because
she was drunk, and such a bother

i spent a week at my now passed grandparents' home
with barbies, cookies, not one school day
as young as i was, as little that i had known
my life was not okay

i have been used about 36 times
in different ways, but on different days
and it makes me feel guilty sometimes
i could have coped in better ways

i reach for you like nothing before
no where near the bottle, the blade
i dont want you like the smoke, the noose i almost wore
it came apart, like we did, and so i hoped and prayed

this prose is ugly to the core
my angel would hear me sing
until she started to snore

His now withered hand hardly moved
and yet I still knew what he meant
but it hurt me so to see my Dad
once a man so powerfully strong
be brought down by a bad heart
and by arthritis so cruelly bent.

His last eleven years were all in pain
it was plain for all to see
he worked all through the second vile war
sometimes in long eighteen-hour shifts
but he died at only fifty-two
in front of my siblings and me.

I will never know how my Mum coped
there were six of us to raise
and though she struggled, oh how she struggled
she fed and clothed us by means
It was only much later as an adult
that I understood and looked back in praise.

©Joe Wilson – My beloved parents…2014

You're not really a baby, no more than I am an adult at 20.
I'm struggling to find the words to tell you that I understand.
I have been where you are.
I went through those days and nights when it felt like the world was against me.
Oh the nights were worse than the days, nothing like the ticking of a clock to make you feel alone.
Growing up isn't easy, kids at school are cruel and dumb.
I coped the way you're coping too.
Turned my body into a canvas in which I only painted with red.
Hid behind hoodies and long sleeved shirts.
Told mom and dad white lies about my newly painted "artwork".
So I'm not just some concerned family member condescendingly saying that I understand, I actually do.
I have fought that battle, and some days I still do.
I've been stuck in that darkness, felt the need to open myself up to fight my demons.
But baby brother, opening yourself up, painting those canvases will only win battles, and only for so long.
It takes family to really win that war.

It was quiet strength that did you in.
Your belief that pain was simply the cost of life,
You had been crippled for so long
Leg straight and fused,
Tremors assaulting your once strong hands,
Still you coped.
You pushed through.
As if to laugh at the hand you had been dealt.
Like you were betting the house would go bust.
You fought.

You fought getting out of the your truck at the doctors office
You fought when they forced you into a sleep study
You fought when they ran a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia
And when they said cancer
You fought

Who cares that they said Stage 4.
Cancer didn't know who it had picked its newest fight with
It didn't know your 25th wedding anniversary was two weeks away
So you fought
Because it wouldn't take this from you
You wouldn't let it,
Stubborn ******* you were.
You fought

You fought
Having purchased a card for the special day
Having it delivered by a friend
In tears she read and she knew
You had fought
And on that following day we sang you to Heaven
There was Power in the Blood
As you found Amazing Grace
And as your last breath escaped
Tooth then Lip.
I was reminded
You fought.

He bounced around
from town to town,
never becoming whole.
'Cause in his parents' eyes,
he was a parasite, hiding in
a hole.

And he let his friends down,
with promises and hopes
that deluded and destroyed
him.  Throwing his words a-
-round, never slowing down
to enjoy the beer and bodies.

He bounced around
from heart to heart,
gathering sympathy
like gold coins; hoping
that he could, if they
really would, stay and
cope a little.

And he let them down,
like his friends and his
parents. He thought a-
-bout dying and writing.
He thought about his
brother and every girl
he thought he loved,
trying to understand
if he could love if he
could not love himself.

He bounced around
from key to key,
writing about nonsense.
Or maybe it was important
and he minimized it, because
that's how he coped; or that's
how his father talked about
his son's accomplishments.
I guess his son would have
to ask himself if he ever
accomplished anything worth
making his dad proud.

And when he went to
the ward, Chestnut Ridge,
that was three years ago.
I guess he's still around,
working hard, New Yorker
something, something, something.
Dad is proud, likes Bojack Horseman
and The Walking Dead; all of this stuff
is so ******* irrelevant.

My dad is proud.

the problem with
drinking to cope
is that after you’ve
coped
it’s easy enough
to keep drinking

i’m teetering
on the edge of
alcoholism
but saying that to
anyone sounds
too ****
dramatic

baristas and bartenders
daughters of artists
daughters of…
i can never come up
with the next line
right on the edge of my brain

so much for
never having had a
hangover before
five am in the morning
my heart racing
mouth dry

the signs don’t fit me
i keep a fully stocked bar
and i get up in the morning
and go to work

but it doesn’t sit right
the fact that the first drink
doesn’t hit the way it used to
the way that it’s the first
thing i pour when i
walk in the door

guess this is my
roaring twenties

(sometimes i wish
it was covid again
everyone was drinking
and everyone was happy about it)

i blinked
missed it
ended up
twenty five
and drunk
now
it’s time to
sober up

but it goes
deeper than that

i quit drinking
kind of
like dozens
of times before

only drank
two nights
this week
but instead of waking
up alert
bright eyed and
bushy tailed
i woke up the same

sluggish and tired
and the only difference
was that i hadn’t
drunk myself into
a peaceful stupor
the night before

tonight he asked
what i was
going to do
about it

besides drinking
harder and harder
and watching more
and more mash

he wasn’t asking
directly
about the
wounds on my legs
but i could hear
what he meant

but i’m an adult now
so i hurt myself
and i don’t talk about it
because strong people
don’t put their
problems on others

(talking about why
i don’t talk about it
is going too far back
too old a scar to pick at)

so i don’t
talk about it
because i’m
an adult

baristas and bartenders
daughters of artists
a disappointment
that just keeps going

he told me my
state of mind
isn’t a personal failing
but it seems to me
like all i’ve ever done
is make myself worse

there’s a
buzzing
in the back
of my throat

might be
words
trying to
escape

don’t
talk
about
it

whatever
i do

i can’t
talk
about
it

my heartbeat
is a high hat
whose edges
don’t quite meet

it’s sharp
an arrhythmic
clap of
a tambourine
hitting
my palm

none if it
makes sense
never did
never will

pieces spliced
and pasted back together
i don’t know
who i am anymore
or why i’m here
only one thing rings true

life is just one
**** thing after
another
except far too
often the
**** things overlap

.
A stout and aged harlot, Ms Wargin
agreed to a collective bargain
with twenty five schmucks
for twenty five bucks
She coped by a very wide margin

**** Religions
Instituted by man understand we can
Think for ourselves
Take that Dusty *** bible off the shelf
And restore your health
With mental wealth too many welts
Left on your subconsicous
Sick of the nonsense my hearts growing intense
Make enemies run to fence
But its too late to date my mental state
In a sate from all the wisdom that my brain ate
Never full never mule
40 acres been missin
While black folks still kissing
White surpremacy ***
But then get mad when I ask
Questions about the recollection
I'm battling the sable
For my restitution
But I see religion seems to be the only solution
Giving false hopes coped and eloped
To a ***** that never existed
I'm exempted
Out reality *** I pose questions behind answers
Too many folks stuck in a cancer
Status no I'm not the baddest
But one of the wisest
Open your eyes and realize
Religions ain't nothing but profits in guise
Ask any body about the end times ?
Corruption poor folks still in destitution
But they say pray for brighter days
But them days growin dimmer and dimmer
While yo hunger growin thinner
What's next for dinner?
Us we fed for deaths food
They got a thousands of coffins
Stashed Georgia
Now check yo self
And ask what religion done fr ya
It just suppress those I guess?
Naw me never show love to them hypocrites
They quick to fight me and ****
Cuz I recognize they ******* out the pulpits
I see preachers getting richer
And church folks getting poorer
Its like the modern day horror
But only thing is
This a live script so here's a few tips
Wake up out them dreams
Cuz ya gotta be asleep to believe it
Man once instituted beliefs
Trying to be God but they no different than thief
Robbing people of time and glory
Christianity itself has history gory
Slaughtered those who didn't oppose
To conversion
**** them ******* cuz they made it a *******

Emotional changed for the better
Physically changed rise to power
Felt and coped with dark emotions
Dealt with good but clutching onto them
It's easy to punish yourself feeling bad
A guilt consciences weighs you down
Focus on the greatness be better than the mistake
Change your ways encourage others
Hopefully they do the same
Be better than the ppl talking about you
Since they have done nothing but blame others
Own up to your flaws correcting yourself
Others try to use that against you but use it to be better
Rise from the darkness take care of yourself
Only you can provide all you seek
Not letting them get to you they infect your good with their bad
Once your immune don't let that toxin overcome
Give yourself credit for doing it others haven't started or tried
You'd feel bad but why should you care if they belittle your accomplishments they knock you
Encourage them but don't let them stop you or detour your mission
Goals are set meet them on your time not others
Dreams are how you see them not others
Live life to your standards not other
Be who you know you can be not
who others make you out to be

I went there without you.
The invitation for Winter
was a blanket of fog,
and my feet were peeking
out from the bottom.
Winter breeds dread
and I coped by spending
restless nights hopping
from bar to bar in
hopes that the right Spirit
would guide me down those
lightless streets and lighted streets,
down the sidewalk on Madison Avenue
trying to make it back to 65th so
I could sleep in my own bed.

In the room the women come and go
talking of D'Angelo.

Black Messiah, not Voodoo;
"Ain't That Easy," not "Playa Playa"
playing through someone's iPhone
out the Bluetooth speakers
on the coffee table next to
the gin and the ashtrayspliff.

The Demon was brought
out of me by the Jack and Coke,
fire from my mouth and eyes
and the headache!
Oh, I begged, on my knees,
my besought hands folded,
asking for the tongue of flame
to be removed from my head!
That my personal Nephilim be
extinguished by the deluge!

And he left me,
as silently as he came,
in a puddle of my *****
on the bathroom floor,
clutching my legs to
my chest.

God, if you only knew the things these eyes have seen. I feel as if I’m the only one to have felt this heaviness in my soul. It breaks me down. I’m scavenging for survival. For hope, for humanity. I wait patiently in the dark hoping to watch as the light breaks through this darkness I live in. Will the sun rise? Will the moon give in to its brutal blows? Or will I be left again, left wondering where I’m meant to travel to next. I watched my family torn from the places once called sacred. The treasures they held once before meant nothing, their lives were the only treasure they had left. The only treasure I had left. Some tore their way out of that hell. The mental affliction that caused them to drown in their own murderous screams. They moved on with their quest for a purpose, ripping away the flaws and scars left by the pain experienced. Becoming something new, remade. Still beautiful, they didn’t break. They persevered. I watched as others tied the fear and pain to their ankles, always dragging it with them. Others would notice the chains they pulled, but never say a word. Never reach out a hand to search for the key to these aches. Just watching them survive, I watch them survive. I survive. But the worst of all to watch was The Interpreter. The ones who fell for the lies that got them with me in this black hole. The ones who never coped, never wanted a purpose, they wanted revenge. Revenge on the ones who tore their soul apart, piece by piece. The ones who took every bit of sanity they had and laughed as it fell unreachable by any man. I watched as something once so beautiful, miraculous, pure and true turn into something that made me want to cringe. So hungry. Always remembering the starvation they suffered from and using it as a crutch and weapon to fill the hole that cannot be filled by things as such. I try to help but they snarl in defense, forgetting that once I was their friend. Only thinking of the world as an enemy, and everyone in it an enemy as well. I try to stop them, plead for them to stay, just to here a few words. Just to know that they aren’t alone, I’m here in the darkness too.

I don't remember his face
I tried my hardest to block it out
In the black in the back of that delivery truck
I fought and I fought but I was but a mere girl
I was 12 years old
See No Child Left Behind Had come along
And everyone thought it was the best thing ever
But they didn't teach a course on how not to get *****
I didn't know
So I didn't share
I held it in and i coped the only way i knew how
Every single night I slid that blade across my skin
And the red would come
Unfailing
I couldn't count on my savior in the back of that truck
But the red
The red was unwavering
My poor poor Innocence
Lost and alone
I had no choice but to replace you with Pain
The pain that clouded my mind
And prevented me from reliving that moment when
My dear dear Innocence
Lost and afraid
I had no choice but to replace you with Liquid Courage
Nothing mattered when he was around
My sweet sweet Innocence
Gone eternally
I had no choice but to replace you with the same amount of destruction that made me loose you

You could have called it a blind date,
The manner in which we first met,
But one that was truly desired,
Not one made for some stupid bet.

A year has now passed since that day,
My life then so completely changed,
When my future was realigned,
And not just merely rearranged.

With the little sight I had left
I really liked what I first saw
But my social skills were lacking
And my emotions were red-raw.

She saw through my anxieties;
The pain I had coped with for years,
She seemed to sense the imprint left,
By many invisible tears.

Empathy was her strongest suit,
That was obvious right away,
Her bright sunny manner ensured,
We had an enjoyable day.

It’s strange how two can so quickly
Be bonded and then become one,
And all seeming as natural
As the rising of the dawn sun.

With the little sight I had left,
I really liked what I first saw,
And I knew the feeling was mutual,
When she nuzzled me with her nose
And then offered me - her paw …

I got elbowed in the stomach
At 9 o'clock tonight

I was working
And the woman
I was working for
Stole the wind
Right out of my lungs

And I bit my tongue

And I swallowed blood

Which tasted like
Rusted metal,
Salt water,

And acidic anger
Burning in my gums

I don't get paid enough
To feel like my ribs are breaking;
Trying so hard not to cry
I'm literally shaking

Well, ****,
I have no one to talk to

My best friend called
An hour later
To tell me all about
The party she's going to
With kaylee and alexa;
She's dressing as Crown Royal,
I don't know what that means
And I don't ******* care

She doesn't ask how I am
And I don't tell her
She doesn't really wanna know
And I don't really wanna say it

There's a distance

A fluctuation in her voice
That reaches a place
My ears can't get to

I don't hear her sometimes
When she talks about the things
She loves

And I don't know why

Why I'm so disconnected
From twenty-two

I'm not above it-
I like to think I'm not beneath it-
Maybe just floating somewhere
In the atmosphere that surrounds it

My boyfriend is much prettier
Than anything my hands have ever held
And his voice is softer than
The blanket I bought Kiernan
On her birthday,
The one she doesn't use...

He's really deep
When he's sleepy

He makes no judgement
When I'm angry

He isn't coping
With his condition
Lately

But I've never coped with mine
So who am I to mention

I guess I'm just feeling weak
I'm just feeling kinda hazy
I'm just feeling sorta empty

I'm just feeling

Feeling

A little bit
Too much

Feeling

Maybe
Just not enough

You're too coped up with feeling sad
you forgot how ridiculous the whole thing was

You don't realize how stupid it was
to give up everything
for someone
who wouldn't even bother about you

Maybe you don't understand how he wouldn't even try caring
When you gave him your all

Maybe you felt that one day your sincerity will seep through to his heart

But you know this
Deep down, you do
Its what you don't want to tell yourself

He had left his heart with someone else.

I call myself a Professional Sleeper
Because I was convinced I could sleep through
any type of sadness or any type of confusion.

I was convinced I could sleep after
any argument or any type of disaster.

Yet, for the past two nights I have weapt myself to sleep
as my brain swells against my skull and makes my thoughts feel like cymbols in a marching band

I was convinced I would be able to sleep off even the worst of times
and that would be how I coped

But once you try to sleep when your heart is breaking, and your head is screaming, and your eyes are too sore to shut,

It's impossible
I promise you.

The breeze flew effortlessly between us
and I begged for it to be enough or even just
enough to pull me with my everything apart from you.
With my toes in the sand that seems so blue
I refuse to allow my eyes to meet yours
afraid that in your dark galaxy I see her
and afraid that my eyes will scream the lullaby
of just how much your name means to me.

I’m trembling to the thought of you
knowing how much of my heart you’ve wooed
for many years it was in your deathly grasp
and for many years I’ve maintained this mask.
I’ve kept my vulnerability safe for so long
away from your knowledge was where it belongs
simply because I’m afraid of how small I’ll become
of how insignificant I’ll be to a heart that was so numb.

I don’t want to seem irrelevant on your end
for I was a good friend, a great friend
and it aches me to allow you to see
that the good friend, the great friend I seem to be
was only a camouflage I used to keep
my love, my desire, my everything hidden deep
deep away from you for I refuse to be like one of them;
the pets you treat with little to no respect but thinks they’re all gems.

What does it take to be a gem in your life?
Does it take a threat; with a pen, a gun or a knife?
Or does it take laying bare aside you not giving you a hard time?
Paying for all your lies with every feeling, every desire and every dime?
Pretending to be a fool like all your pets, and hope just hope…
That one day you’ll reward me for all the pain that I’ve coped?
A good friend, a great friend isn’t enough for me anymore
play the pet, buy the lies, **** the modesty, become the *****?

-fir.m

Little girl started feeling insecure at the age of twelve, certainly it wouldn't be the last.

At first the voices didn’t get to her, but eventually, the voices got to her enveloping her into an all too familiar embrace that she wanted to escape.

At the age of 13, it was a fresh new start, it was the start of freshmen year,  little girl was actually doing okay but she couldn't help but hear the voices at the back of her head, screaming at her, comparing her to numerous other girls she saw on instagram, on runways and on the hallways, how different in size and appearance she was compared to all of them.

At the age of 14, little girl thought everything was going to change unfortunately for her, it didn’t when insecurities came crashing down onto her like how reality crashes down unto you after reading a good book, when people did not only comment how big she was but they started being more specific about their implications.

Normally, she wouldn't have taken it seriously.
Scientifically, it was normal for her to grow on those areas because, news flash, it's part of adolescence, but for her, it was just another file to add into a file cabinet, she called life. A disorganized file cabinet, she was too exhausted to organize.

14-year-old girl started wearing 2 sports bras at once, not minding how she couldn't breathe, not minding how her lungs were gasping for relaxation and to be able to be comfortable enough to grasp oxygen, but she did not care with how the way her body was begging her to give it oxygen, her body did not deserve to breathe for being such a burden in her life.

14-year-old girl also learned how to skip meals, it was the year in which she learned how to lie about her being full because it would be embarrassing enough to say that she was hungry at 6:30 am in the morning when she basically devoured everything they had for dinner, to at least fill up the gaping hole of emptiness and unsatisfaction she feels when she looks at herself in the mirror and can't a single thing to like about herself.

14-year-old girl also learned how to act, act sick so no one would question her why she threw up all the food she devoured, when in reality she grasped onto her neck, so tightly, choking herself and made her release all the chewed up food they had for dinner, unfortunately it did not release all the insecurities and coped up feelings she kept inside of her, she punished herself because her body did not deserve that satisfaction, her body did not deserve being rewarded for being such a burden in her life.

14-year-old girl told herself to not eat.  Simple.
14-year-old girl told herself that guys wouldn't like her because of her insecurities.
14-year-old girl had to swallow every tear that was made when people made fat jokes at her. That was the only thing she was good at. Swallowing, devouring, being fat. Being such a ******* burden.

Little girl was always so immersed into her body, always investing time to punish herself because she was never what the norms were.

At the age of 15 little girl gave up on caring.

15-year-old girl realized she did not need people's validation on how she should look physically.

15-year-old girl realized that her body is a temple worthy of praise and worship, not insults and comments about how it should look.

15-year-old girl understood the concept of false advertisement.  

15-year-old girl realized that she is lovable, she is worth love and she does not need any guy to show her that, that the only love she needed was love towards herself.

Wood smoke carries on the air
The time driven memory
Of ****** basics and soulful
Earthy humankind
Surrounding each personal cell and
Lifting the arm-stretching power
Of fire and the need to feel warmth
The technology of modern man
Is dashed on the rocks of time
As we drift with the stench of our youth
The well worn shoe and the eiderdown
The hot water bottle and the candle
Flickering and holding us with
A knowledge of comforts
And our understanding
We live within this world and feel
The circle of life that smells of
Log fires in the autumn and the sooty
Blackbird song of impending winter
The warble and the peaceful heart of
Everything we love as seasonal
Mists and dancing flames keep us
Wrapped in our primeval lives
Will autumn bring a kind or hard winter
No matter, we have coped with them all

By Max Hale

Why God?
Pray and believe and please don't stray or leave. Stand tall and I know that life isn't grand but it'll be worse if you fall. Build up the church, rebuild your soul and don't focus on the worldly merch. Stay pure and remember when you have Jesus your path will be clear and there will be no fear. Ha-ha what *******, I am sick of all this, I tried religion and it left me in a deeper pit. Does God exist? Yes but does God know I exist? Hmm… Let me meditate on that; ok still not getting anything; where is God when the devil be busting my head over and over with a bat?

On my knees but I’m still getting fees that be stinging my bank account like some devilish bees. Where are you? Do you care, why do you seem so far, I'm at my breaking point and I don't know what to do! Reading the bible, starting to wonder if I’m just reading a bunch of fables. ****** job, ****** relations with both sides of my family, and ****** finances man do you think this hit is funny? Robbed from a normal childhood, bullied everyday, so I coped with it by eating lots of food. My mother taught me about you, made me believe that you were faithful and true. But maybe your no better than Santa or the Easter Bunny, as unhinged as ***** Wonka and oh how I wonder how you can sit up there while the world gets more crummy.

I got an Ill mind like Hopsin, man whatever happened to that jolly green giant, that guy died an reincarnated into a goblin. Stop that talk man because the devil is playing with your head, and stop that morbid talk of wanting to be dead! I used to listen to the 116 clique, because I couldn't stand regular worship or hymns because I found them boring, broad, and basic. I remember listening to guys like Fresh I.E then one day it changed to guys like N.W.A, Wu Tang Clan, and Puff Daddy. Everyday I used to read my bible and I would drag my momma to the holy temple, but now when I'm at church I get taste in my mouth like I took some Fentanyl. Religion is filled with hypocrites and I used to be sold out for God until I got treated like ****. I used to be a unashamed believer and I told everyone about you, but now my once pure heart has been stained and people who claim they know you, really don't know **** about you! I never shoved my belief down no ones throats, and the ones that do will be placed with the other goats.

Believe what you want just don't be a ****! That's all I ask, and it really shouldn't be that hard of a task. Putting all my issues on the table, if only I could go back in time like Cable. Momma told me to not test the Lord, but I'm tired of being choked by the societal cord. Torn between the religious and the secular, and when I die will I gain forgiveness or will I face the demonic tormentor? I don't know I’m just lost and angry and all I need is a boost or push to attain fame and money. I don't sell out, I sell in, all I got told was to get out, so sorry but I have no choice but to dwell in sin!

How many were going to St Ives? 
Were the cats in sacks alive?
Who cares if every one arrived?
For the greatest riddle I derive
Is how on earth, do you surmise,
that poor man coped with seven wives?

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Declinism: is the world actually getting worse?

Most of the people hate isolation
only a few taking it as blessing
and such is the one I'm talking about.

What if the familiar have shunned me,
he would say, the world is now mine,
to the strangers I bare my heart,
as they do to me, a complete stranger,
in the once and possibly the only meet
between people otherwise divided
exchanging thoughts and contacts
sure no call would ever follow
but happy in the chance encounter.

He thus meets a melange of people,
the man whose wife fled with her lover,
the woman whose husband deserted her
but she still wears red in his name,
the son abandoned in childhood
the old woman disowned by son.

He takes all their sadness into him
and feels his own greatly diminished
thankful that fate hasn't been as harsh
or how he would have coped with
the misfortunes that befelled those strangers.

He bows his head, for in the isolation,
he knew how it hurts to be deprived of
what was obviously legitimate.

what's it like when all forget you?
how does it feel when the world just quits too?
they fell in line and left me stranded.
forsaking friendship to become branded.
society says, 'congrats. you're normal.'
to me? less kind. 'you're far too formal.'
slow change, it seems, can't hurt enough,
for friends must then forsake your trust.

dear sir, you're kind, i'll give you that,
but good sense spots my shameful acts.
so sadly i must now suspend
this bond you've known. now this portends...
we know through life you've suffered greatly
we also see that hurt known lately.
she broke your heart, we all know that.
just quit your tears. she won't come back.
assure you now, i surely must.
that karma shall prove to be just.

we don't quite care that you're left out.
deny, we will, without a doubt.
see? we're still here. semblance of care.
it's strange how you are not aware
for false support and apathy
are truly acts to help you see
that we've in no way cast away
the friend you still are, day by day.

it's in response i wish to tell
you cheats and fiends of wanton hell.

so now attend. you'll hear this voice
it's time i've left you all no choice.
before i'm gone you'll know the truth.
that you were far beyond uncouth.
your forged endeavors fooled me not.
i won't forget that you forgot
all that i've done for all of you.
but, foolish, still, i stand quite true.
despite this pain that you all caused,
it's not as though my throes just paused.
there, in my time of greatest need.
i meant it when i knelt to plead.
i'm strong enough to fend of much,
and this you know, and so, as such
why can't you see that when i tried
to reach for hands when mine were tied
that surely then, in dire straits
i was, for sure, no pride abates
in simple scenes where i could hold
my head aloft, and remain bold.
i needed you. i couldn't see.
my vengeful fear had blinded me.
my love for her had left a curse
i couldn't shake, dispell, disperse.
i doubt that you shall ever know
of hurt that could consume quite so.
a scalding burn that transcends each
of prior wounds; pain you shan't reach.
up to this point, since i was born
i've struggled, fought, withstood the storms
not as a bridge that needs support
but as the the ship that sees no port.
i waged war with the reckless sea
of life-dealt pain and misery
alone i dealt with constant bathos.
fears born of stable crushing loss.
she left me shattered, nothing less
a beaten, battered, ****** mess.
i felt that i should quit this game.
who was i fooling? death was tame
compared with such a crushing blow.
how could I cope? i didn't know.
for reasons still unknown to me
i held onto complacency
which is to say i've not a word
that fits to shape that form absurd.
a huddled mass of spiteful spleen.
how cruel to force my heart to wean.
i needed love to quell that force.
divert my torture. stem the source.
i thought that what i'd done to try
to be the friend that never lied.
that stayed beside you, resolute
would pay off now, here on this route.
that sounds much worse than i would like.
but friends are friends, and friends alike.
i love you all, and i just hoped
for you to help me as i coped.
it seems that asking this was wrong
as i was left to sing this song
to empty seats in empty rooms
true solo, this. my heart assumes.