We all seem to grow apart
but it’s not just the start.
We move away, begin
and find our parts.

Soliloquies to plays
that we recite daily.
Little we know,
but time will owe.

We begin to answer
with knowing
and more, yes
” I remember ” ;
the acts
we use to say
in our once
naive disarrays.
We learned the difference.

We have found
connections:
some strengthened,
newly added,
once forgotten,
and then regained.
- Refrain
we attend
to our chains.

So on this day
you walk not step
staring beyond the next
climb further, higher
hold your breath
your at a stage
no curtains
just certainties
of beginning
your part.

2011 ©AGDP

Beneath the mask quivers and shivers weak and fragile flesh
Frigid and frozen with chills of fear.
I am crippling in-security secured, where they countlessly hide and whisper at the endings of each breath
Riddles veiled with gleams of chemicals disposed and recomposed between night and day,
Until the light hits it and the wind gusts it and incessant defections rise from the deepest depths of my horrific broken authenticity.
And they are all staring at me.
But this time not into the toxicity of my rusty razor eyes.

Beneath the mask is where my falling tears secrete
Pouring vacancy as a smile that feels more like a cracking cut that screams, "I do not belong here" , forms and quietly disarrays.
Buried, piercing eternal reminders that what is shrouded is and never will be clean.
Dig far enough and you'll unravel my roaring encrypted codes.
I want to feel the inner me. I want to let go. So please let me go.
I'm sick, surveying perplexed eyebrows and transient smug slugs that pass through me like a hundred and five venomous knives.

Beneath the mask rests squashed hope branded in the never seen.
Examine the clothed truth that's mounting me into a false entity
If only this was an illusion derived from my bitter history.
But the lights begin to flicker as endless passing heads and lifeless expressions come and go. Stop requested.
The laughing fluorescence continues.

Beneath the mask, recycled empty, plasticity.
Carried with titanium, Styrofoam delirium, impalpable veined elasticity.
And if you come close enough you may just see,
From the scabs and scrapes of doom that are bombarded by and masqueraded with false decadence.
Clipping the wings of individuation,
Don't label me innocent.

Beneath the mask are humorous symbols, layered with obscurity and decay residue.
Of shattered dreams and scattered stars drenched in solitude.
Guide me to the darkness so I can feel blended in, meaning comfortable in my own crumbling skin, and once again soak into my unsuccessful fantasies.
Cause I am stifled from a thousand suffocating bandages weighing me down,
I am the under-works of the ground, sleeping in the soil.
Like meds morphed into led, showered with alcohol.

Beneath the mask it is hard for me to breathe
It is hard for me to belong and it's hard for me to believe
Seek and create your deciphers and you will find deception draped in reverie.
But I've been inflicted with a mistaken realism.
Destined for something that will seemingly never ever be.

I am captivated behind nauseating smirks and painful smiles
So today please let me astray so I can remove this mask for just a little while?

Ghosts are walking today.
Last night, misty rain fell upon the town.
On top of already soaking wet yellow leaves
that was plastered flat layer by layer-
like a yellow brick road. I walked on-
after work because biking was not an option-
in the wet air upon the wet road.
Where the road shone slick black,
Under the orange streetlight-
beneath the fading twilight, into the night.

Ghosts are marching today.
They pushed and shoved between the thin veil,
in forms of wind shrouded with orange decaying leaves.
They left dust trails, sidewalk cyclones, and-
Played mischief upon innocent walkers.
They crowded around and laid in wait,
until in groups they swamped and swayed.
As they passed by the disarrays,
with their fuzzy hats, thick coats and flying scarves,
they clutched their coat, just a little bit tighter-
and that’s enough I’m sure, to make deads smile.

Ghosts are parading today.
There was a halo behind the blanketing grey clouds-
that allowed a trickle of lights like diamonds fell into my eyes
and just for a moment in the corner of my eyes I saw:
a long crowd reflected by the golden light,
parading down the street, not caring for passing cars.
They carried a banner high up to the sky
and I squinted my eyes for a better look,
twisted my head back to catch another glimpse,
but with a blink of eyes, they were gone-
like the misty rain that fell last night.

Trying to fall asleep
is like chasing
elusive shadows
Where each breath is a
remembrance of meadows.
What must I do
to stop chasing the nights
Filled with disarrays?
Where the rooms
Are just a war zone
In a deep trench of my own.
Like an infantry soldier
fighting sandman, I surrender
Nights of quiet meadows
Where the heart is pierced by
Insomniac arrows.
In what dance must I partake
to find sleep that hides deep
Within the sleep cycle REMs?
Where each attempted cycle
Becomes a failed composition
Like writing a waltz symphony
With a broken harmony.
Must I obtain the dream
catchers to unfold the nights?
Sleep is like a fleeting flirtation
Slipping away in fractured chaos
Leaving the mind grasping for direction.

Ten billion atoms and yet a flesh soo weak. It faints for a woman ,  as dog to its bone, Yields at her feet
In the darkness she may whisper, it hurries to aid,
her most selfish wants, while it's soul yet disarrays
Her lust is famous for great great demise
Great Salomon and Samson
to her, who am I
for my fate is fixed might as well wait my turn,
Woman conquers flesh then after, thy soul burns.