As I **** this cigarette
my life go's up in smoke,
in clouds of gray and white
some day I'll die of stroke.

If only I would quit
this habit that I have,
my lungs would never rot
all cancerous and scabbed.

And though I know this all,
to my love I still return,
for nicotine I crave for nicotine I yearn.

Take this poem to heart,
and let thy cigarette go,
for dieing of lung cancer
is the slowest death I know.

Annoyance from the brains relased toxins I can't control. Dominance over my mind and soul. Hearing through ears on repeat remembering each peice of food on record. Dieing inside the soul from ratched cycles. ADHD, ADHD, ADHD.
I have it do you?

I'm a better man for leavin'
Than just staying here decievin'
Myself into believin'
That we've something left worth fighting for

I couldn't stay here lyin'
Inside I would be dieing
It's best I give up trying
There's nothing here worth fighting for

I still must thank you baby
For showing me to stay'd be
More no instead of maybe
We've nothing left worth fighting for

It's time to get a move on
In the morning I'll be long gone
I guess you lose and I won
We've nothing left worth fighting for

Been ******* ova a thousand times
Result of that is trust isnt on my mind
Thats one thing i dont have
So i kno any relationship i start wont last
I try to believe that your not like my past
But after you gave it all its hard to redo that
I have put my heart on the line
Covered my eyes to lies i played blind
Closed my ears to gossip in the streets
Of her cheating and not claiming me
Who would of thought the one you give your soul
Would trade it for what they thought was gold
Make you out to be the fool when time of approach comes
And i loved her so much i believed her how dumb
So now you come in singing a song i have heard
How you would love me forever and my heart you wont hurt
Sorry to be the barrier of bad news
But i must be real and say i dont believe you
Yes i heard you when you said you'd love me on dieing knee
And your promise to never cheat
But your words are oh to familar
I have dejavu with your words this is a bad delima
Trust isnt something i can give easily
As well as my heart my mind cant you see
Take it slow with me i cant go fast
I refuse to get out of us what i did in my past
I be ****** if i get hurt again
Having to hear gossip from my friends
I will not hold the sign of pain any more
Before i go thru it again i will show you the door
I dont want to wait up at night for you to walk in
Or get scared when i see you around another woman
I want to be free of playing the fool
And to be honest i just want to love and be loved without trust issues

What might the heights of the minds eyes see while the spirit is in motion of the purest emotion of intent and expression of love?


Is it such a state where false has awards and evening gowns picked out for the awards show?

Is it so fake that one might find it difficult to understand real from false?

Or might the fact that when a human being can truly  walk the line of life with grace and demanding ******* while gently caressing the absolutely overwhelming truth that love has ravaged the soul ,

Ravaged this soul,

*****, held, ravaged, run through, righted and scorned in the deepest of waters a soul has yet to express to the world for two thousand years, and all while  the captive ....... Soul,         is critiqued on the devastation wrot in such completeness that is is even to this day savoured as a prized  fetish even unto the sad would self.

Dare I ask simple a question of wondering curious eyes of windowed souls to cast a view into the dew of the greatness of being of truth and grace while respecting the very heart from which such torture pours from?

dare a truth be asked that such a human being be of a dignity in company with the child timid in him self torn, dashed , bruised, named and bolder than the soul that resides in you?

Dare a tasked truth be ever revealed of contemptuous  acts of ***** souls and privacy of ones tiny castles in the  oh so damaged and bitter sands. Of the wombs of mind that we all venture to frontier the very limit of the souls endurance, prestige while being undignified by the raw violence of the act of continued ****, or is a dared truth to harsh a fact for timidness of my self to have swallowed whole as the soul of mine self and mine eyes and mine teeth from which the vengeance did pour a pounding to seek, all to be driving back by the broken and horrorably disfigured child of me that many find more womanly.   For this Ugly Boy of me, this sad sot silly and ***** smaller to the vastness of the fridgidness of ******* through lies and manipulations while taking in the raw ******* of the common God's child , virus this not what we all are the now newly in question not so rarely ***** and sold like ****** in a new church for the dastardly and bastarded ******* that we have come to call complacency of decency?  

Any, how foolish, yes my dear friend , you are indeed a wiser worrier  wafareing wondering wizard of vast skills and frightful  ways and means to tame the beast of such hateful things , so costic as to reach deep into them and quiver their tiny tethers and frail feathers all a mockingly  to the tones and notes left after we vacated the dead crypts of self deprivation and hate as we all found the truth of the emotion as it poured through us when realizing this damaged, torn and frightened child , a man holding the depth of winter killing fields at bay, a man kindly swaying the stars to play a tune so as to grace all who broke his heart a stay of pain for each and every attempted and timidly bold and brazen sway and slanted ****** love or raw truth and powerful motions from which we all find the fancy to ****** the  tool as the goofiest  **** **** as hell fool we all choose to allowed the absolute grace and magesty to ******* Rule our Hearts for even just a fraction of a moment in this prayer of endless time, yet hold with the dared scary and walking naked and alone into the lions den while the wolfs and beasts all gathered their finest clothes, weapons and gold, silver, trinkites and shiny of the shiniest of the things they boldly and brashly slash all with as to command the fear to reside in the human spirit.

As this silly little hill Billy with a **** nice *** *****, were wolf feet and all called out to the proudest and loudest of the tiny little spouts and softly said " what is all you foolish fuss about?"
"Have you lost you most precious toys, only to find victim the Dickson of my sorry and sad state of dieing from the oath and lashing of what you helped  rip from what can only be many peoples and communities and even many families?"

Dare a truth to truth this dare my dearest cud of a bear for a true beast of welcome verosity I be all the while giggling and prancing all about like a happy *** skipping fairy, and of this I most truly rather be for don't you know? , did no one tell you the news?  The horror is scaring but the truth is so amazing, turns out scar gardens are the softest things God has ever created, scar gardens are the hardest element that break far stronger , bold creatures of far fasters tested , cleeted, bust a mother up than most man has ever know to exist.
Scar gardens are the very  spouts from which the truth and grace of the living love of God pours fourth into this majestic ******, animal ,spiritual ,sacred, holy and magnificent place , a place that the very bashing of the flowers that dance you delight even in the pity, plight, laughter , and slight  has done nothing but cast us all from it loving embrace, yet, dear cub of a Billy bad *** nub of a cubbed couger in the final leaps to catch this timid and playful prey of me that you so think you will devour you see,  we, the ones whom truly felt and opened and dare that **** scary *** chance to dance with this devil in the pale moon light have found that they no longer must live in fright, that this very garden is theirs and none to own but to flourish and grow, thrive if you must, but lest get nasty for a real minute, animal to animal ,it ma thrive , sure but it will **** , love ,fight, rise , Smit , right the wrongs that have tortured us far to ******* long and in that moment of exstacy the human race may just finally realize ***, love, caring, kindness and truth of self are the face of God starting through your eyes experiencing all f his loving songs creations and getting ******* goose bumps and he'll yes this Billy Jack goofy *** bad  kat all **** knuckled with bad habits and a lust for loving full ******* spectrum and a lesbian trapped in this fugly *** mans body all crazy *** triple run *** marks the spot moon shine devil of mine were wolf feet and all does truth and whole love the Real Girl and is ,,,,, and most mother ******* who are real and real down with the truth that God is love and loves even your silly but as God loves mine silly *** and the rest of this star studded cast of human **** ups simply attempting to pass and go the **** home at the end of the school bell.


HUA,    I do love the Real artist  you speak of, she knows it, and may just know that I know she is not the one laying **** the silly hill Billy with a rather bad *** wi,,,,,,,, um sorry.     Where were we. Oh yes. Um. Only those who care to let go and allow the truest of flows and are true to self and the love that one finds in the being of anothers breath, thoughts , actions , decisions, and mistakes and graces to right ones self after horrors that tear us and embarrass us, these know the truth ,and my dear friend i love you too, but not like the love i expressed to you in hopes you to feel the love i share to her with out pushing it on her, so that what is rightfully hers to reject or except i gave it all away to all even those whom used it to fuel hate in mine own shape , form and name.  And i have done all of this and a dillion years of pouring stars into the hearts of that goofy *** girl by way of dancing crying and **** it dieing through the very core of you,  yes i got you high, horney, got you off, many times , i gave you memories of sparks you know, i gave you worlds of wonder and ways to flurish and grow, i gave you what you , well many of you , did not even deserve for it was truy meant to be for her, but i felt that the most good it could do and the best love i could show her is i can love all of you and even rock hear heart all the very same ways i moved you , and not loose one silly little drop of the tears in her pain, yet sip them and drip them into her so she may choose to live again, as she has done for me.....do you now see? For I C C I said this goofy eyed going man who has done all this in his true and real names,  For I Love You So.


And didn't even eat my wheaties wink , smile I a not mad at ya, just being me, and some times we all have a tax bit of  werewolfand badger **** in us , sorry to offend, smile in the end, we all just might be ,,,,, sort f friends..

What does it mean to me;
She asks as she looks into me.
My reponse, a tied tongue
As she kisses me and relaxes me.
My proverbial tongue does as it's asked

"It's all about perception you see,
And what context it's been used in.
It can mean the endless cycle that is Saṃsāra,
In where karma is responsible.
But rebirth in my eyes
Means something closer to home,
Rebirth isn't about physicaly dieing
It's about letting the old you die
So that a greater, better you is born,
Like in religion when you are born again
You didn't physicaly die but rather
You opened a new set of eyes
And that is what rebirth means to me,
When you let go all of that which holds you back
And the person who held onto all that dies;
You are set free as you are given new life and new eyes that aren't blinded by past actions and experiences."

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Thousands of years I have lived
And now I feel like little bacteria
My heart is filled with pores
And people call it ostia

The night's are glazing with pleurobranchia
And thank God I didn't get ******* hemiplegia
Solitary I feel in my animal kingdom
I wish I could do something with my boredom.

How amazing are these euplectellian shrimps
Dieing together imprisoned
Symptoms of true love they show to me
Together up to death they are known to be.

Maybe I am the class imperfecta
But by birth I am a mammalia
I wish we could both be mycorrhiza
And get hallucinated with amanita.

Someday we would make a synapse
And get into the love with mitochondria
And there our nervous system stops
And there the impulse will walk .

No special organelles I have
I'm just 70s ribosome
My heart is incipient
With foldings of mesosome

With a smile the martyr ascends.
Killing for peace.
Dieing for peace.
Thrives for peace.

With a smile the martyr ascends.
Paradise in eyes they die.
Tears in eyes they die.
Twisted ties of us all seem to die.

With a smile the martyr ascends.
As he ascends he lives on.
Everyone mocks the martyr and where he will live on.
Some claim he will not live on.

Martyr martyr I believe you live on.
Your cross can carry you,
Into the caressing arms of your dreams.
Martyr martyr can you take me?
I've wanted to be happy for so long.

With a smile the martyr ascends.
They all laugh.
Shunning him they all laugh.
Mocking his one hit or miss chance to finally find peace they all laugh.

With a smile the martyr ascends.
They all think less of you I am sorry.
They all hate you for your sacrifice I am sorry.
Your god will reward you because it too will be sorry.

Martyr martyr I believe you live on.
Your cross can carry you,
Into the caressing arms of your dreams.
Martyr martyr can you take me?
I've wanted to be happy for so long.

for centuries they have been around in  every city, village and town
they was known under many different names and yet no two
were ever the same.
they are known as the angels of mercy, also te kind hearted souls
who helped the sick , the dieing , the old.
they see aches, pains and suffering every day while family members
may hide or run away.
they share with the sick , stories. pains and tears
and they wipe away their fears.
their faces may be the last faces that the dieing may see
as they bring them comfort in the life to be.
nurses don't work under doctors , they work as equals with them !
they give them meds and hold their hands to let them know they understand.
the nurses are the soldiers on the battlefields who fight the wars
they are the ones who know the score.
when they have to turn a patient on their side so
that they can clean their behinds and making sure
they have no bedsores before they  walk out the door.
they also have times of joy when they see the birth
of a girl or boy, and of when a patient can walk out the door on their own
because of the caring a nurse has shown.
they are the last stop between healing and dieing
and of this there is no denying.
(C) L . RAMS042715

In the twilight night
That casts shadows to the day
The cold creeps at the October edges of my single pane windows,
And seeps into my cheaply heated home with newspaper insulation
It catches my toes, and walks up my white hands and grabs my face and nose
The cold grasps firm and goes deep

And in the chilly dieing light  
I found a picture of you laughing, tucked into a book I was going to give you
Suddenly I am dragged back to the moment when I fell in love with your soft native eyes.
And your freckled cheeks drawn in an eternal smile
I loved your black hair and your carefree way

The cold is not cold enough for this,
I open a window and the back door.
I finish my drink to the whiskey sharp bottom,
I cast off my blanket and sit as wind comes in.
The cold is not yet cold enough

I add ice and ***** to my glass
Hoping for Russian absolution
But in the freezing flesh core of my sad meat suit,
As the temperature drops to negative numbers  
My stupid heart still beats for you
And the cold is not cold enough for this.

Sunrises are beautiful
a beautiful beginning of a new day
but sunsets are even better
and it shows that you have survived the entire day
without dieing

In my cloudy eyes,
blurred visions of sadness,
storms rage without fear.
In this furry, tears
spur out of the madness
and die.

Those, they who see it all
lost in the real,
struggling,
enlighten us to the
hard knock truths of life
while everyone else stumbles
in and out of fairytale dreams and illusions
of which have no meaning.

Dieing before their time
storms continue to rage
not only in my eyes
but in my heart.
Their words
etched into eternity
forever echoing
reassuring that
they don't die silent.

my eyes they do wonder
more than you will ever know
will they always
tend to find themeselves in thoughts unpredicted
by even myself
who could probe so deep, mingle so lightly
with touches and sighs not meant to come out they way they do
but even more
so much more
then what ill ever draw with my finger
love dipped sand gripped
oh autumn summer fall
gray September
red winter
sepia summer
under leaves and leaves

ocean

the ocean never changed
where I felt touch as a woman
released my first sighs as a woman
doing bad so bad
under things that were so beautiful

that was so beautiful

I mix and walk back
I must be a woman
to walk this way

and to look into all of your eyes
and feel nothing
and then feel everything

alcohol

white fresh and tastes like spring
under the imagination of so many things
I can go on forever

you know
about cups lovers creeps echos and black *******
that helps me flow

and I still bend to weak minds and words
I still bend to eyes fleeting destruction
to eyes who try to lie about everything
make believe they are something
dieing inside from nothing
bleeding tape around mouths with tongues that are too narrow
for proper speech

i still bend to beauty and love for the sake of -- love
or anything of such kind
meanings lost mixed and revealed through each other
with such discreet difference in between
and I feel the difference
and the contrast only makes me fall deeper into things that i don't know

once discovered

I grab my scarf wrap it around my neck with a thin cancer mutation in between my fingers
select my watch drape it around my wrist
put all belongings where they belong
and check out into the next hotel of
malicious life tones

Time to meet the family
At least, that's what I heard
But, she asked me when the game was on
So, I didn't catch a word

We'd be heading out a week from now
Back where it all began
To meet the wife's whole family
every woman, every man

When she said she was from the hills
I didn't ask her where
But, once he started on our way
I was always looking out for bear

They lived way up in the wooded parts
Off the road, you couldn't see
I didn't see just where they were
But, I felt them watching me

We pulled on up and there they were
They made the Clampett clan look good
Eighteen folks all standing there
and two were chewing wood

The one's I thought to be her folks
Were her sister and a dog
The one that cozied up to me
Had a leash walking a hog

There was hugging and some kissing
Lots of tangled beards and hair
Then they stood and looked at me
With that mountain kind of stare

you know the one, deliverance like
where you wonder flee or flight
It was just then that I wondered
If I'd make it through the night

Her ma came up and spun me round
slapped my ***, and said "he'll do"
I wasn't sure if that was good
And I would end up in a stew

A bearded one came over,
shook my hand, and said his name was Clem
He said that mama liked me
Now, I was one of them

they was fixing to go hunting
Which was something new to me
The last time I went hunting
I shot a canoe and a tree

They said that they were hunting
The most elusive mountain prey
I was gonna hunt for ginseng
And if we found some it would pay

First, though, time to have some drinks
Eat some greasy, stinky meal
I think it was a possum
But, it might have been an eel

They said we'd get a good night's sleep
And they started howling at the moon
Time to hit the sack they said
Hunting time is coming soon

My Appalachian in-laws
Made my sphincter close up tight
They had 14 teeth between them
And I don't think one of them could write

We hit the trail next morning
It felt like miles up that hill
I thought that I was dieing
And I hadn't left a will

A sound was heard, a gentle coo
And we was running, in our boots
Clem was out in front of us
And he'd discovered ginseng roots

I picked them up, all scraggly
Like a parsnip,  dried and dead
When a holler came from brother Boo
A monster known as Red

His beard was black as coal could be
His eyes looked at each other
They called him Red not for his hair
Just 'cause he liked the color

They filled the bags with what they found
And back down the hill they went
I thought that this was insanely mad
And then Clem got a scent

Someone else was on this hill
Out hunting Appalachian gold
That's not what I would call it
But, I just call things as I'm told

We found the truck and sped away
To get paid for the days find
We had to make sure all were there
And that we left no one behind

The gun shop and the bar and grill
Was where we would get paid
Thirteen hundred bucks a pound
Almost three grand had we made

We went back with the cash in hand
Howling at whatever we saw
I guess that I'm now one of them
An Appalachian outlaw in-law

There was this city, she's been in
destroyed, will ever to be built again;

All there is left to do
Is try fighting over her land.

I have this fear, I think of not being
and I am unable to sleep
amongst the city scapes.

expelled, having confided with demons.

Next to nothing is this woman
She has bags full of cheerios, and overweight;
She too comes to this same spot
As I am, exhausted, at this coffee shop
From all the extra weight she carries.

She says with the heights
Of each new t.v season
Watch for my systems, turning time
of its wonderful fall colors.

They tell us where to go to see them.
the city rising
With its icons dieing, and monuments
Made in stone, to give us many stories.

We are trained to draw the lines
Work to serve devil's-food cake and slurpees.

All for all and none for none
What am I here for
In my middle age left to do
But band together the few
Who are lost in their mazes.

At the end of another season
I am going around fishing holes
Catching up with a winter's fever

And will ask you here-
By that old fir tree first
we found her-

Here, is where we come to cheat our diets;
I’m so afraid I saved a date,
to go back to that first kiss  
leaves began to stumble
as legs from their limbs-
fall away and let me in.

The unseen is so intangible to humanity that it screams Hersey in defense of limited carnal senses. Even if the womb could inhabit scientists in pre-birth form they could merely predict that the umbilical cord was the result of the big bang which was brought on by flatulence before the great earthquake of indigestion. The true miracle of birth is the unseen…how in the darkness of gestation a blind love is reflected through a heartbeat that is perceived only physiologically. They could never fathom the deeper water of love that a man has with a women! Conversely we are not immune to this fallibility within the new embryonic process called mother earth and its new limited senses that perceive love as tangible. Love is not a feeling like an umbilical cord or is it a marriage that brings beauty and personal happiness on earth. Love is bigger than the thick and thin of this imperfect dieing world! Marriage is the umbilical cord to a true love that is again unseen and reflected in the heartbeat of the Cross which eclipses all Physiological and cognitive impulses. Love never fades………………….

pinched lips, tight with emotion,
teeth grining back and forth.. anger set in motion...

trying not to punch the keys while i type this poem
wondering why i cant leave this love alone?

my heart being on my sleeve is a flawed and broken
so i write this peom.. so my HURT is spoken....

love the light but never lightly love,
love thats light, lightly is called love...

DO NOT GO QUIET INTO THAT GENTLE NIGHT....
RAAAGE RAGE AGAINST THE DIEING OF THE LIGHT!!!!!

rage against the love in flight,
rage agsint love in plight

rage
rage
rage

and at last... perhaps... just once..
my heart will fit this cage.

FIN

Inside my tears are falling,
Quenching the fire of my will.
My emotions inside are a turmoil lake,
And only when I'm dieing will they still.

My sorrow fills my thoughts,
Making sadness wherever I see.
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But only my words will hurt me.

Humans get really crazy,
When they are are the polar opposite of lazy.
Climbing up a mountain, jumping from the sky,
This is a completely different kind of high.

Bungie jumping, shark diving,
Any activity that ends in dieing.
They go out of the box, while sane people stay in,
To get that dose of adrenaline.

To coffee shop, The danish, laughs
You’re not mad,You’re just dieing
Your own stomach;
can't even understand what you mean.

For you, Who disappeared, today?
‘To be’ is a rarity,
And as a non-believer,
This life is just random.

To the coffee shop danish,
Who didn’t show up For work , today
In those silk stockings
Just to stock the coffee,
There is One less, on the streets
To go lording.

We don’t Stop them from living
Nor step aside for them dying
To stain your smock with their colors
When your being ordered.

the day old screams
On her privately.

The fleeting fox red and coy
A creature of false unbridled joy
It's legs through dieing leafs do fleet
Behind its face is true deceit
In the light its gleaming ebony eyes
Are filled with truly sinister drives
Almost cheshire is it's smile
A haunting topping to all it's guile

Two days later, he opens his eyes.
Bright sunlight, some blinding enemy,
Like heat waves upon scalding sand.
Two seconds later, he closes his eyes.
How did it begin?
And where, for that matter,
Did his dignity run off to?
He rolls out of bed,
Clutching his greasy head.

It was the annual banquet
For the Pure-of-Heart-but-Poor-of-Soul’s
Club; They dined, they danced, and
Someone grabbed his sweaty hand,
                                             and…

He leans against a round-topped refrigerator,
Stained a putrid brown, which collects
Take-out boxes from all over town.
He ought to find a chemical,
Some bleach-magic in a bottle. He could
Use steel wool, or a sponge,
Make it into a worthy possession again,
But still,
He won’t. And he probably never will.

A metal cap is flung across the room,
Landing soft upon a soil on the floor.
The beer tastes
Like aspirin and the ***** General Electric.
Waste not, want not,
He’d always say.
And so he sipped, and did for
The rest of the day.
Waste not, want not,
Wasting away.

What color was her dress?
Did she dress,
In that purple dress,
To seek? To impress?
Anyway, he thought,
Anyway you stare,
Is alright. Not okay, but did he care?
And he just might marry her red hair,
But only if her crooked grin
Would run away with him.
She’d never seen a black tie before,
And neither had he,
Until he found one on the floor.
“I see you’ve joined our Club,”
She said, stubbing a cigarette on her shoe.
“Just passing through, fair-headed,
Taffeta lady. But it’s sure nice
Seeing you."

A dripping air conditioner
Barely clings to the window ledge,
As if a seven-story fall from
The pathetic high-rise were
No big deal at all.
And it pours its sour, frigid air
To the dark apartment there,
And another ***** shakes itself loose,
As he turns up Scarlett O’Hara
On the evening news.
“I’ll bet she’s a princess,” he said
To an audience of burn-holes and broom handles,
“The woman of somebody’s dreams…”
And glancing at the dieing machine, he added,
“Well, since you are my only friend,
What do you think?”

She kissed him over an open pizza-box delight.
He was probably crazy,
But not as crazy as she that night.
Crazy will do as crazy often does,
Which explains a lot,
If you don’t think about it much.
He should have known better
Than to trust a pair of cloudy eyes,
Or the bird’s nest of a mess sitting
Confidently on her head,
Like some wilted rose painted red.
Some devil’s right-hand angel
Was kind enough to carry
Him home that night,
Staggering drunk, robbed blind.
And crazy never changes,
So the Taffeta lady will remain
Counting all his money in her room
In the asylum for the criminally insane.



Sometimes you live, other times you die;
Two days later, he opens his eyes.

The beauty of an insufficient dieing little thought
was once so strong and had potential
until in the mind web it was caught

The horror of an insufficient dieing little thought
could have stopped the world form war or the battl4e already been fought

Could have changed the world in fact it could have saved your heart
culd have stopped the last of seems from pulling loose, apart

The wonder of an insufficient dieing little thought,
How much it could have changed the world
the amaze it would have brought

The mind boggling distress of an insufficient, dieing thought.
What could have been what should have been
yet it went fling on the spot

Inflamed with thought of what a thought,
ever could have been
it could have been any thought, it could have been a sin

and even thought this thought may have
been one to change the world
it didn't last for long,
and now you must fully accept
the little thought is gone.