I am worthless
I'm about to fall
But that's okay
No one else cares
So why should you?

I am worthless
I can't contribute
All I do is waste
Waste anything and everthing
Food
Water
Shelter
Words
Light
Time
Space
Everthing I touch is wasted

I am worthless
Don't bother trying to save me
If I leave
If I die
It will be better for everyone

I am worthless
Just let me die

Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

--------
a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
fairly
regular
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to
withstand

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

Hell, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any hell you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon hell, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through hell with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into hell and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feynman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being
primed

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.

hmmmm

I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
right?
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
worth
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree
with entymology.com.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,

Aye,

that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

someday
a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look
mad.

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
2018
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

----
my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
time
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Loud
Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say
*******,

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
real
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

--------
this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
things
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
yes,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
named
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.

love is like a blanket it can warm you through
takes away the cold and stops you turning blue
wraps around your body as it holds you tight
gives you lots of warmth to help you through the night
it can be a duvet so very thick and strong
and be there to comfort you when ever things go wrong
it is always there in everthing you do
love is like a blanket there to comfort you

Poetry is the direct cause of death of boredom.
Spoken words exist to excite the human soul
and to crown artistry with the nectar of wisdom 
Poetry has more decibels than the Superbowl.

Poetry is the Ganga of the human soul.
It induces a beautiful feeling that stupefies
and leaves the mind dazed like a drunken fowl,
yet it delivers results that really satisfies.

Poetry flows from the fountain of Wakanda
and permeates the arid soil of Timbuktu.
Poetry is the vault to the treasures of Zamunda,
where Mammy Wata guards the Kane of Mobutu.

Poetry is the language used at the creation.
When earth was young and everything was dark,
The great arbiter called out light and put things in motion.
He used spoken words to tell Noah to build the ark.

Poetry is life and life is in coexistance with poetry.
Before ancient Africa and the pyramid of Egypt,
Poetry was cooked and stored in God's pantry.
Ready for use in the Garden of Eden's script.

  

  
#IvanBrookspoetry ©️
#Bassapoet✍️
5.24.2019

-PROLOG-
                



               A whooshof air playing with a tender long brown hair, a wave of flips of curly hair. AS the sun sets in the mountains of Colorado with a misty glow on the pure crystal snow. As I glaze in the beauty, I turned around in a grunted sigh and walk to my bran new house in the middle of no where. I said walking back to house with my family "why did my **** step-dad have to bring us here in this dump, pssh I hate him so much!!" with my flench curled up and my knuckles turning white, teeth clenching, kicking rocks to take all my anger on. Crossing down by the bank of mystical waterfall that held frozen and was a piece of art to any who hates water still would make it beautiful. Passing by with full rage of anger reaching my sister with a graden rose dress, black sandles to surrounds her newely fresh scab formed on her righ knee, but with a smile thats lights up this dull place. Man that girl can always cheer me up even im ****** at the world i could never be mad at my sister i thought whiled walking slowing down a wave a brushy grass that any person or animal could fall on....before my sister could reach me in a small peice of my eye caught something it was a man in black clothing sticking his hand out saing "rachel." pause "rachel come... come..." and slowly dissapeared. As I stood in shock my body froze in fear it felt a trap of death and slowl everthing went black out all i could hear were faint screams of my sister before it blocked out for good. " Sister!!! Wake up!! MOM!!!! DAD!!!!!!! COME HERE!!!!!" Jennifer said with crystal water tears holding my hand trying to wake me up but failed to. "Honey did you hear something?" my mother tilted her head while she unpacked the car. " What were you saying teresa i could not hearyou i was getting everthing settled in thehouse but thenyou called me so what i-" richered got cut by a bloddy screem in the near distance in the woods. "MOMMY!!!! FATHER!!!!" the both parents look in shock and dropped every thing and dashed out the front lawn. "mommy.....father...where are you..."jenniferjust cried there hopeless while I laid there in silence. "Oh my god Jennifer are you alright what were screaming about" mother said worry in her eye while killing Jeniffer with a big bear hug. " What in gods name made you scream like that" Richered said frowning and getting with a cocky attituded. Jennifer ploted out mother's strong arms and raced down to me where I still laid dead silence. " what the hell, where is she going... holy sh-" my mother was about to scream like akiller was after but she calm her self and went to jennifer's side and was nearly about to cry. " Don't worry teresa she's breathing so thats a good thing lets take her to the doctors before anything else happens and jennifer could you explianed what happened to your big sis please it would help alot." Richered said begging for help. "umm well she was going down this hill then she froze in fear as she saw something bad then the next thing pwoof going down twumbling and she went blank" Jeniffer said looking in her eyes with very much concern.
                     with about a three hour car to doctors the family of four came rushhing for help "excuse me ma'ma can you help me...im in a diffuclt spot please helpmy daughter in law" Richered said with a firery pumped up voice. " Yes sir whats the problem" the young blond teen siad as typing on the computer to comform the document to acces the doctor. " My daughter she fainted and wont wake up and its been over 4 hours can you please help her" Richered said sheepishly as finder his wife and her younger child right behind him and my mom carring me. "Ok sir just put her on hospital bed room 34 please and you may visit her after the docotor comes to see her but for now just wait here in the wiaitng room. about an hour passed the docotor who was taking care of me came in the room saying " Mr. and Mrs. randof may you come with me." he said with a demading tone. "Yes sir may my daughter come to?" mother said trying not to show fear in her voice "of corse" he said while letting the family through the back door then the hallway that leads to my room. " she up but we dont know what happened...so we need to go to the hospital to checked up by more higher professionals." the doctor eyed my in like what in the world happened. There was an akwarad silence until my step dad intruded that peace and manage to say " w-well ok and now Rachel would you care to explian what happed to you" Richered said while to strengthen his tone back. " yes..." I paused to re-gain my memory " So I took a walk and walked back to house but i passed the frozen lake that froms like a waterfallbut its frozen so i saw Jennifer and i was  about t call her name but then i saw a person in a black robe sticking his hand out liketrying to grab me it kept on sayin Rachel..Rachel come come and when i turned completely it was gone completely like if it were a ghost and then i felt a horror shock come over my body and could the world turning black then only hearing Jennifer's faint screams of concern and down I fainted then went to silence...." I finaly said with lifting my head slowly and with a greck bolt in my eyes I looked right behind them there was again. With seeing it again it turn pale with tearns rolling down my eyes like waterfalls and hushed to cold knock out.

you always make me happy when ever im with you
make me feel alive make me feel brand new
the smile you always wear all across your face
sends the soul in me to a different place

with your loving way that you give to me
you brighten up my life set my spirit free
everthing i dreamed of you just have it all
deep in love with you i began to fall

i just want to be with you for now and evermore
the feelings that you give me i never had before
you are everthing  your my dreams come true
for the rest of my life i want to spend with you

9th month

September2013:
blue skys
warm air
at night it would go cold
the autumn leaves slowly started to fall
still rained from the summer
and the cold wind
started to chill us to the bone

On the first week
i walked to my friends house
with Zoe and her french exchange student Elise on my side,
we waked into Zoes house and sat in the kitchen
Elise had an apple with peanut butter
Me and Zoe  Had Soup
We walked after to a little River bank,
Elise sat on the rocks
i skipped flat rocks like Amelie Poulain
Zoe took picutres of the river.
We found a ripped dollar bill with a phone number written on it
Zoe texted it, no answer
it rained later that evening
i reasted on my bed and thought about the day
with a smile

i Biked to my favorite field
one evening...
recited a poem i made up in my head
the one line that i repeted was
" Will the love of Fall and Winter choose me this year?"
a week later a girl named Kirsten walked into my life
with a smile and wave, i wanted to meet her
we talked one day and planned to go to my favorite field
on a Friday..Friday the 13th..not so unlucky
though i cut myself shaving
i went to go meet her that friday
i walked down the stairs
there she was at the bottom of the stair case
"What will become of us?"i thought
She facing the other way,
i wondered if we would become friends
I tapped her on the shoulder
turned around with a surpised look
then she gave me a warm smile
We went to the field
sat in a childrens park
Then sat in the grass that melted in the sun
i showed her a leaf that looked like a heart
..i kept it under my hat...
i walked her home, she lived close by
i gave her a hug and left with a smile on my face
Got home and put the heart leaf on my wall

We became friends
Talked everyday
i would walk her home
and meet her in the field
as i came in riding my bike
She kissed me before i left...

I started to fancy  her
she to started fancy me
I asked if she would be mine
she told me wait
i said " i will!"

Nights came
when we walked around looking the stars and  looking at the city lights
laying the grass and runnning around
we were happy
The night was ours
She kissed me goodnight
i went home
fell upon my flower my bed
and dreamed of her...

My anxiety pulls me in my room and locks the door
My anxiety throws out the key that never existed and taunts me
Makes me think I am not loved
Makes me not reflect on my actions that cause pain
Makes me feel crazy even though I am not
Makes me feel like I am the only one in the world that feels this way
My anxiety ruins the good things in my life and turns it around to hurt me
But my anxiety can't hurt me
My anxiety is only in my head
AND because of this I have overthought and painful thoughts about what is going to happen to me so I stay in a state of fear
Torture
Anger
Sadness
I have even thought of how it must feel when I am gone
But once I thought that I realised once I am dead I am dead and who knows if you still feel the pain or not
So I decided to keep on living to get rid of this constant anxiety and live a better life.
SO
But my anxiety does not define me
It does not define my actions
My thoughts
My pain
My happiness
My tears
MY anxiety will not lock me in my own room in a state of fear and sadness
MY anxiety will not take away everthing I have ever loved and will love in the future
I threw my anxiety out the window and made a key to get my self out of this room
And If it comes out
I will throw it out over and over again and find and create new keys with the heart of people and my own
And although my anxiety is an emotion that makes me hate myself
I will continue to love myself and stay the amazing person that I know I am and not change for something that is insignificant and cruel as anxiety
And I will learn to grow, love and learn to never Ever let anxiety define ME
And so should YOU

they write about her im the toilets.
they call her a ****.
they mock her.
they make her hate herself.
everything she is, everthing shes become.
its their fault.

she crys herself to sleep at night.
wishing she could change.
wishing the scars would fade.

wishing she could fade.
wishing she hadnt done the things she things she had.

wishing.
wishing.
wishing.

just wishing she would die.

you're not just my friend
you're my LOVER
you're not just my lover
you're my HEART
you're not just my heart
you're my LIFE
you're not just my life
you're my EVERYTHING

if we have respect then we have our pride

happy and content with ourself inside

have respect for life in everthing you do

life will do the same give respect to you.



have respect for others of each and every race

each and everywhere respect  it has its place

something we can give something we can share

show respect for others each and everywhere

If I want to die, I'll do it myself
I'll save a kid or some **** and make it look like I died a hero
But nah, I had a death wish.
Didn't any of you know?
I said it probably forty-million times.
It's cool the kid is alive, though.
And it's cool that this all rhymes.

Tell the kid while I convulse, choking on blood that  I said,
"Eat your vegetables. Stay in school. Being in love is really cool.
It's okay to be alone. It's okay to be afraid. Don't make the decision I made."

Then play some surfer music and have him stand in front of a projector,
projecting video waves and dreams, as they start to dance.

Honestly.
If I wanna die, it's by your side.
But you're gone.
Away.
It was too hard, and you're afraid.
I'm afraid, too. I don't wanna die.
But this isn't living, what I'm doing now.
It's survival, and it's just
blood and bone.
Eat and walk.
In a crowded room, alone.
Smile and talk.
I can't feel. I can't feel. Keep saying it: I can't feel.

But I feel it all, and if I want to die then it's by your side.
If I wanna die, then I want to talk to you before I go.
If I'm going to die then it's because it's hard to cope
knowing that I love you, and you love me, but you don't wanna anymore.
So I don't wanna anymore, anything.
I don't wanna be here.
I don't wanna be anywhere.
I don't wanna be.

I dream a lot now, more than before.
Reality has become the compass to a draining nothingness,
and I don't want to stick around.
Either way, I'll dream or think of nothing, and it couldn't be that bad.

"No one is worth taking your life over."
"It gets better."
"What if she wasn't the one?"

How do you know how I feel?
What if it doesn't?
What if she was?

Can I bathe in nihilism or is that too transparent?
Should I shake the salsa in the silver room of the Lisbeth Salander character arch or should I be in the ark, two by two, with Noah?
At least I'll be able to feel, taste, see the shine, relate to another's pain, realize a life, be next to one meant for me in the shelter of doom and eventual hope, and be with a man with as much certainty, perceived as crazy or brilliant as me.

Can you walk home to me?

To know that what I knew is what I may never know is something I don't want to know, and something I'll always know could be something I live for and by, and that's all I knew before and now I know nothing but that.

If I wanna die, then it's knowing you as I walk to you or you walk to me, in depth, in death, in soliloquy.

The crumbling clock is my hoarder as it keeps everthing I don't need like memories, future events, and times and dates for places I don't want to be.

Is it too much to want to be a fly on the wall that is smashed?

I've never been so lost.

"Don't be so dramatic. Don't be so dramatic. Don't be so dramatic."

Okay, thanks. Now I can think of that, and what else is wrong with me while I feel lost. So lost, and unlike ever before if I ever was lost before.

What do I even say on my note?

Ooops?
Whoops?
My bad?
It's never enough, isn't it?

If I could wrap your sorrow around my lungs to where I could only breathe your sadness as I give you my hopes, joys, and everlasting essence to fuse with you as you feel complete, I would, I have, and I lay empty.

Is this enough to say?
Do you get my point?

my heart is in a cage
the cage is invisible
but my heart is barely visible
hidden behind so many bars that are practically invincible
because every bar is made from a scar
i dont even know how many there are
so many; it seems more like a prison
everytime feelings have risen
they couldnt get break out
and who wants to break into a jail
when every attempt seems to fail
it seems ive been trapped in this cell
ever since that one time i fell (in love)
how long have i been here
i cant even tell anymore
sometimes i just sit and stare at the lock
and everthing that is blocking the door
someday it will open
as long as the lock isnt broken
atleast thats what i'm always hopin
I do believe one day
you will find the key
to this invisble cage
but you better hurry
it only gets stronger with age
beware of  the jokes
and meaningless conversations
that never get serious
because they will turn you away
as i try to run away
but i hope you swill stay
and break these scars
so i can let go of all the pain
and all this rage
stuck inside my rib cage

if we have respect then we have our pride

happy and content with ourself inside

have respect for life in everthing you do

life will do the same give respect to you.



have respect for others of each and every race

each and everywhere respect  it has its place

something we can give something we can share

show respect for others each and everywhere

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if we have respect then we have our pride

happy and content with ourself inside

have respect for life in everthing you do

life will do the same give respect to you.



have respect for others of each and every race

each and everywhere respect  it has its place

something we can give something we can share

show respect for others each and everywhere

.                       .                          .
    .             .          .               .
       .    .    .     .     .     .     .    .    .

     i     stare  at  a  docile  ocean
  
           waveless   sun   accosted
           dark and shadow edged
           tinned with men's brave
           history of misconception     i

                                   'Dragonne'.    
           'Colossuus'.    
                                   'Cetaecean'.
          
                           

           - Leviathan  ?



                       As sure as hope setting sail  -
                       Past shoal, past shallow,               
                       So each chase begins.
                       Lines parsing out,  
                       Expectations coyly
                       Embroidered,
                       Entwin-ned.


                       -  Leviathan  ?



                        Pray please this narrative be drawn :  
                        Truth for sake of safe harbour;
                        Stillness without caution;
                        Softly ripening dawn;
                        Jupiter and Venus descendant,
                        Celestial promise anon ?
                                               

                        -  Leviathan .




                Violence
         the casual violence of life
             the worst kind
    not casual really   but whats violence anyway
      few knew why    why ask why    the few
     once  the  dice  flipped  get
       its         a flying             a mind            a dunzo game
             gravity responds  we hope              hope together sake
                             to    gether

we   short the freaks   short em all   them freakin freaks      freaks
           i want you I want yours
             i want to take  you over
                  take control  take over
                        29' k         kontrol        all night                                                        day
­                             long             time                                                                end  time

                  everthing happens forfurfor                                      fit                         ­ ur
              once and done     nature                                           forfeiture
                     reason                  or ur other        or ur another                         or ur a altogether reason
                                                          ­                    or simple GP          drunkworld
                                          ­                                                            reason                               nurture


                        surprise my ripest faither                                                          ­                     less
                             5 rise  10 run                                                   huh
                   up the                   down and dumb
            dumb  ber                   right left        left                                                            right thum ber

                             number one                                                 number
                                                          ­                                      numb   ber
                                   one                       ­                                     ones
          
            ­    
                               another                                                                      
                                come
              ­                  under                           
                                 the
                               ­   ~                                                                ­          
                                  .
                            ­  
                     



All Rights Reserved.
James R. Morse, NYC  2013.

I wish i had a daddy .
I wish i was the little princess of a daddy.
I wish i had a daddy to take me shoping
I wish i had a daddy to come in my bedroom why im
laying in my bed in tell funny storys then cover me up in give me a good night kiss on the check. Their was this one man how i realy look up to as my daddy he treated me like i was his own in like a princess in would sit in listen to how i felt in everthing eles he was the only man how i have ever look up to as my daddy in now i wont ever get to see him ever again he loved me as his daughter he would alwhys say how he more then a daddy then what jay is cause he dose more for me then what that jay guy has ever did 4 me . in his name was rohn he was gonna be my step dad in 2 moths but my mom in him brooke up now i am never ever oloud to see im again now so i am sad but maybe one day i will get to him again sincarly love me hayley >3

I unlove you
I don't care if it's a neologism
It's my heart you imprisoned
And I unlove you for that

You were everything I wanted
Because I love everything you're not
I love it a lot, like a lot a lot
And I love what you don't look like
I've fallen head over heels for
Whose personality you don't resemble
I long for the way your kisses differ
How the *** isn't as curricular
But of course that's not enough

I want to want you
And "you" is an easy word to rhyme with
So that's what I won't do
See how easily I'm distracted away
From what you've got, what I can't say?
Because all I know is what you don't relay
How we share a not-so-bad day
I've got a question... if I may

I should love you for what you've got, right?
For all you are and not for who you're not, right?
If this holds true, we'll descend from the spotlight
'Cause I don't care about who you are, just who you're not quite
I unlove you with my whole heart
And I refuse to dig any further
I like to love everthing you're not about
And I pray that's okay with you

Let me be your crutch.
Let me fly high above you, so the sun will burn away my feathers so you can continue flying.
Let me carry your baggage, so its weight will break my limbs from my body.
Please rain your vegence and your anger and your pain down on me so that your relationships will flourish, but I will be so distant that I have only you.
Let my body wither away so that yours can thrive.
Take pieces of me so you can be whole.
Take my faith so I can have faith in nothing.
Take my trust so that I will trust no one.
Throw my body over the puddles like an old coat so that yours will remain clean.
Have my voice so that I will stutter.
Bury my body in the sand, but promise me that when you’ve taken so much that I can no longer go on that you will lay my body in red dirt.
Lay my body in the same red dirt where my family lies.
They have given their all for people like you too.
I learned from them to be somebody’s everything just so I can become their nothing.

when were very young manners we are learnt
not to play with fire or someday we get burnt
have respect for elders yet another task
say please for everthing before you even ask

thankyou when your given any thing at all
keep your manners always never let them fall
this is what were taught and for ever they will stay
this is what were learnt and dont let them slip away

always use your manners in everything you do
then everyone around you will have respect for you

In the beginning, There was God.

And then God made love. And God saw that it was good.

And then God turned to John Lennon and asked ‘Are you sure this is all we really need, John?’

And John nodded and spoke. ‘It is indeed.’



…… Said no priest ever.


But it is a funny thought isn’t it?

When do you think love was love first created?
Of when and how can probably be debated
I think though


One thing is for sure
Love in it’s essence before this mind of ours,
Was probably a lot more simple and pure

It probably came without pretty words and without a ring
Without a priest or church to accept it or anything

It would have been an unfettered union of connection
Coupled with fact
Of basic matter flowing and the action of simply being
And to enact
What things intuitively know
What things really just feel
Underneath the idealist baloney of love, what is truly real.

A lengthy definition, I know




But please hear me out. Please.

I just want to show
That perhaps love was meant to be the force in the background

That keeps all matter entwined together and tightly bound
And whether to you that notion rings true
I feel, that Underneath all these thoughts and feelings
Some form of pure love just flows through all of me and all of you

Do you feel that too?

I think love is the energy holding everything in the universe together.

Call it dark matter, the god particle, WHATEVER

The tiny tethers scientists just cannot seem to hold down and find
Unions of energy connecting on fundamental levels
Vibrationa-Wait…..I’m sorry.


STOP IT.


Just stop…. looking at me like that!

Stop lusting over what you hear and see
I am trying to tell you that love isn’t just about the feelings between you and me.


Geez.

Ahem…..

Now where were we?

Ah right

My basic fundamental laws of connectivity.


I am speaking of the whole universal components that ever was and will be

Each single moment


That makes up every inch of reality.


Love to me…. is everything you see. Everything is love.

Never mind Physicist, the Beatles had it right.

Love is all we really need!




But….. I wish that was the end of the story



Humanities definition isn’t that at all.
Today’s love to me is the slow and desperate fall
From something new to something old
The epitome emotion of a bold humanity
Bound in self desire
An empire of gluttonous self pleasure
Pure hedonistic leisure
Without thoughts that maybe
Just maybe
We’re doing this love thing all wrong
Maybe all along
Like I’ve been saying


Love was first and foremost simply implied
To be more than just something shared between man and wife
And solely humankind

Like, I REALLY love trees.

Seriously. It’s what I want to be eventually.


Anyway. Back to the story of love shall we?

You see, I have this theory that when society and language came along
Loves pure and universal


Well….. love song.


Got messed up and rambled
It got scrambled through a perspective of harsh survival, brutal rival and competition
A billion little expeditions of selfish love renditions.
Love became some hierarchy of

me

me

and me.


I imagine throughout humanities struggling ages
Love got captured behind enemy lines
Beyond the kingdoms of greed and lust
Imprisoned battered and busted
Love in these mental wartimes eventually

Became somehow in short desperate supply
It’s once abundant sustenance
Now rationed


Denied and refined


Into a quick hit drug we’re all standing in line to snort


For a moments pleasure

An escapism and a getaway leisure

Smuggled into our metaphysical prison

Of loneliness we make inside

And if that isn’t enough of a depressing thought

To reside upon

Love when imprisoned to it’s final degrees


Gets all the qualities it shouldn’t be
In the POW camps of our history, love changed to something less than ordinary

Jealously, anger, envy and fear

This wasn’t the arsenal Love had before these desperate years

Oh no my friend

I think Loves been hijacked and I think it’s a spy


Though, all conspiracies aside


I think the way we love today


Is a Shell shocked version of what the universe had in mind.

I mean sure the universe can be seen as a hostile place

A big dark scary space of colossal destruction


But it’s also creation

Constant efficient reiteration of all that is

Into what will be

To me that doesn’t sound so bad

If you are accepting that change

Is the only noble constant to be had

From all this being alive, thing

It seems change for humans is hard accepting


But the more I think, it’s what makes living beautiful right?

The duality and inevitability of day and night

Of life and death

The frailty of knowing in my head

These lungs I have one day will exhale my final breath, And a curtain will be drawn and I will be dead.

BUT THE SHOW! MUST! GO! ON!

.....Someone once said.



These thoughts don’t deny me of anything.

In fact they bring me joy

Because I employ the ideal that love is everthing.

The knowledge that my acts of love on life’s stage

Live on in you all, re-made and renewed in some way.

And even on a material level my body will be broken down again

Into the soils of this earth from which I was made

And I will help sustain something somehow

And still be a part of everything gracefully

…… Hopefully a tree.

And when the earth explodes eventually I’ll just be stardust again

Apparently from whence I came

And a pure ideal of reunited love simplistically will just be

Without any thought of me

Now… Isn’t that a wealth of selfless love right there

Above and beyond the compare to the scared notions of heaven and hell?

You thought because I spoke of God before, maybe that’s where my faith dwells?

No my friends, my strength lies in simply sharing simple love.


The one that is an unfettered union of connection
Coupled with fact
Of basic matter flowing and the action of simply being
And to enact
What we intuitively know
What we really just feel
Underneath this idealistic baloney of love,

What is truly real.

A lengthy definition of love, I know


But when all is said, and thought and done
And this place is inhabited by no one

I think It’s all the universe truly had to show.

I am not scared of Death
Only scared You will be somewhere different then me
Eighteen years apart
what will after life be?
I feel you so close- almost touch
And when you smile- I swear I know
Im going to Heaven

there was a little monkey he played the violin
he just love to hold it with his little chin
he would use the bow pulling to and fro
from his violin his music it would flow

he had a dream that oneday famous he would be
a violinist of the best go down in history
he praticed everyday two hours maybe more
until everthing was perfect for his music score

there was a competition to play the albert all
monkey  stood in line waiting for his call
then came his time to play he would do is best
to be the best of all and beat all the rest

he began to play the crowd he did amaze
playing with such skill they were in a daze
they shouted out for more and stood up on there feet
monkey he was proud it made him feel complete

monkey he had won now a music star
people came to see from near and a far
now he travels global for all the world to see
all around the world famous now is he

Mad chook woman
Devon country maid
Farmers daughter
And so of Eve
Elemental to her core
Deist, doctor
Advocate brave
Healer, toucher
Mum, mother friend
Naughty girl
Bad girl
Sad girl
Happy girl
Loved girl
Woman
Loved woman
Intelligent but connected
Adult
Child
Strong as trees
Delicate as blossom
Fragrant spicy
Conundrum opaque
Puzzle, challenge
Rewards
Melts in my arms
Trust builds
Words flow
Time passes
Planes fly

I tried to quit smoking last week. And my best friend died for eighteen hours. Such a deep loss has only been felt by rose hips, in the early winter, after the petals have fallen to the ground, like snow, like jumpers from high-rise buildings, like a maiden, after that last, fatal step off the plank, with swords at her back, and the horizon calling to her, the song of the Sirens drifting up from the ocean floor. Dropping, like petals, caught in a harsh winter breeze. The left-overs, the carcases of the flowers that were and are no more, watch with eyes of sorrow and hearts of lead, as each friend, companion, lover, even casual aquaintance plummets, to land on the already frozen soil of a dead, snowless, Colorado winter.
I died with my friend. My roots were tangled, and with each second that passed, a million axes took bites out of them, feasting on my identity. The axes were only gold-plated, it would seem, and not pure, unadulterated precious metal. Engraved in the paper-thin facade was a name, a face, and a hope, all of which were merely a poor excuse for an excersise in willpower. The cold, iron blade shone through the thin, gently curved lines of lip and ear and eye made of nebula. With each breath that passed between loosely parted lips, I felt myself fade, giving my everthing to the world (hope, name, face) that had, only moments before, murdered my closest companion.
My eyes grew steadily hard, increased stone-content. By 6:30, I had been staring into the eyes of my mistress, Medusa, for at least two hours, my head filled with love songs and daydreams, clutching straws and holding out for the one perfect moment that would shed a brief light on my life, which is, in all reality, the afformentioned pirate ship, but void of lamps, candles, or any other means of illumination.
Questions flowed to the surface of my disjointed mind in a stream, a river, an oceanic current of molten rock and sloppy second guesses.
(Will one hurt? Half? Just one puff? Why? Why? Why?)
And as I turned to stone, I finally found the courage to answer one of the questions that my brain shot itself with, injected into its own blood stream. The question was the sole bullet in a revolving, high-stakes betting game, the answer, the fourth trigger pull, with only two chances left anyway.
(Because... I don't know why...)
So stand up, go to the place you have thought about two-million times, and, yes, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette.
As my friend rose from the dead, pushing aside the boulder blocking the entrance to its tomb, which everyone knew was just a temporary tenement, and we were reunited, we spoke of fascists. Well, I spoke of fascists, it listened. I spoke of the kind of fascists that exist in grayscale television commercials, spewing ingnorant words about the untimely deaths of beloved family members, who give me ***** looks in public, and have forced me into alleyways, across streets, out of sight, out of mind, to the back of the bus, as if non-smokers live forever, as if everyone can accomplish said impossible feat, if not for the evil plant, the evil spiritual plant that poses a threat to the well-ordered religious structures, pyres built for martyrs and long-dead saviors.
I have only begged for eternity once, and I was very young, with years of rocks and hard places ahead, only pink clouds behind, and eyes incapable of foresight. This boy ate apples, and drew on his arms with black pen every Sunday. Go into the church clean, bathed, come out with temorary full-sleeve tattoos. This boy was made of wonder, myth, and blind acceptance. No longer.
I have now gazed into an eternity made of open graves, lost loves, and harsh, barbed-wire truths, punctuated with sharp, jabbing exclamation points of brief pleasure that only seem to make the reality of eternity worse. I am a *******, and even I don't want that. A body can only function for so long without sleep before the motor wears out, the radiator breaks, the gasket leaks, and the marbles flee from the growing insanity of their owner. We all need to rest eventually, and in my secret mind - the one that grimaces with sick pleasure and only shows its teeth in the lines of a poem, slightly blurred by metaphor - I long for that sleep. I am tired, but the day is only half done. But each sun sets, and we can not deny it that truth, that sensation of finality that settles upon senile eyes like a cataract, that snuggles against warm, pink lungs in all its black, tar-like splendor.
Truth, like so many other things in this solar system, only takes shape when under the eye of a microscope, with a passive viewer sewn to the end of it, with the sole intention of passing judgement before shouting "NEXT," and repeating the process untill they either run out of things to judge (blame, think, guilt-trip) or die.
So, smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette. Puff, puff, puff it and let us hope they never get to either of us, old friend.

in a land of fantasy so beautiful and free
where everthing was magical as lovely as can be
there was a purple hedgehog as friendly as can be
he lived in the woods underneath a tree
there were little ladybirds having lots of fun
dancing there so happily underneath the sun
the stars were made of diamonds twinkling in the night
underneath the moon shining oh so bright
the grass was just like velvet so beautiful to see
everything was peaceful so beautiful and free
in this land of fantasy is where i long to be.

she was a very bright girl
4 years old, pigetails laughing, smiling thinking the old kids were really cool.

she was happy
7 years old, one braid in each side always smiling noticing how the big kids put on a new layer of make up at lunch time.

she was smiling
10 years old, her big curly hair hanging loose she lost all her friend but she was a strong girl so she smiled even when they called her ugly or fat.

she was never making eyecontact
12 years old straight hair looking at the ground all the time barely ever talking, ignoring the kids calling her fat, ugly but it still hurt her.

she was never talking, never smiling and never taking out her head phones
14 years old, hair in a pony tail, having to redo her makeup at lunch time cause she cried of everthing while she sat in her locker she could easily fit there since she had been starving herself.

she had scars and cuts on her arms and legs
15 years old, she stopped carring she was wearing short sleeves hair hanging loose again straightened but teased, the kids called her attention ***** and pushed her around like a ball.

it's her birthday
today she would have turned 15 but she's not here anymore, she took a choice and left this world too early she wasn't supposed to be happy... not in this place, but she's somewhere else now somewhere better
everybody is sad that she left this early, but they didn't belive her when she told she wanted to leave...

*(c.m.h)

Total departure to our needs is the reckless stupidity of how we are becoming our own executioners.When looking down on mother earth from father sky they wonder as to what their siblings are dreaming of as they hurt and maim their own mother.
When will people who justify their greed ,instead of need realise that their greed will not even give them their very  basic requirements for being here!
Humanity,through some strange concept,has set itself up,knowingly,as the controller and destroyer of all that gives them their basic needs,"their mother and father".
Man in his greed has even tainted the rays of light which give us our birthright,LIFE,for without it we would not exist.
By an infinite membrame,or so greed presumes,lying between good and bad,we live or die,but greed has stretched and widened that belief to horrific depths in the name of need.How long before it SNAPS?!
The coolerof our mother and bearer of us is poisened and wasted every moment. The ever overexploiting ****-sapiens will not letgreed stop them,even in their mothers death cries.A huge propergater of everything,mother gries in pain as she starves and with her ,her siblings.
The sun now burns her soft skin and moisture does not stay to cool her as she sweats.How long must or can she endure this torture?
Would we do it to our human mothers?
A family tree of pain is her reward for nurturing us.Her womb dries as the moisture is ****** from her veins and poured on to her belly as she screams.The sun rips it from her no longer cool and loving but hard and fierce like a furnace.
Onwards greed trespasses into herpumping heart,her skin is poisened and erupting like puberty,but still man is unmoving in his attitude to himself.
She speaks to them everyday but they do not hear or sense in any way her agony.Oblivious to everthing greed rumbles on deaf to its very basic needs and requirements.
As she criesfor help,her breath encompases all as she resusitates all with her sibilation.Can you smell you mothers breath?Will this last vain hope of hers go unoticed as greed races against its now foul wind?
"YES" because greed has stunned even your basic senses.Yo do not see,you do not hear,you do not feel,you do not taste ,you do not smell,even your most common sense of all is wasted "SURVIVAL!"

Between the three elements lies another.Without any one of the three the other is non-existant.
Running headlong,greed does not even notice its own reflection,blinded by its own need!Our mother is wek,her milk is drying,her skin is wrinkling,her touch is burning,her sight is blined,her taste is foul,her breath is stifling and her hearing is fading,she is DYING.
Her umbilical cord is strangled as it dries up with the assassination of her soul.  Will her soul be heard after we have  vanished or will we awke from our sleep of arrogance and greed and realise that EVERYTHING is not worth NOTHING.

For when she dies her death throughs will mame and slaughter us even as we count-?

                                                                        

                                                                                  "OUR MONEY"

What do you give yourself?  How do you honor yourself?  How do you show diginity and respect for yourself?  If you don't do this or you don't know how to do any of this, make it your top priority to LEARN how.  It is an invaluable skill to learn how to love yourself.  I'm not talking about standing in front of a mirror and saying "I love you" -- that is maybe the first step.  Loving yourself or even thinking postively about yourself is like climbing a slippery mountain where the fall really hurts.  But, when you get down to it and truly care for yourself, above everyone and everthing else, you don't have to climb that mountain of self-love.  You can fly over that mountain.  And on the other side is paradise.  This paradise is all the love and goodness that you crave from others, except this love is unlimited and endless.  It will forever flow into your heart because it's source is you.  You are an evergreen wellspring of unconditional love.  If you really sit down with yourself and be honest and say to yourself, "hey, Self, how do I stop being so mean to you?"  And, "how do I start loving you and treating you with the respect, adoration, and sweetness that I seek from others?"  When you figure that out and become crystal clear about HOW to do this and most importantly, if you're READY to do this -- I mean REALLY READY to do this, then just... do it.

through the eyes of a child, everthing is lovely
the neighbor is kind, it rains fruit punch and candy is the balanced diet
running around all day laughing,playing
imagine being a superhero
with the mask and a cape
the clouds are actually cotton candy and mud-pies are chocolate cakes
all animals are nice and noone is unliked
so how about  we play around with dolphins
and kiss a tiger while stargazing
in the eyes of a child, the world seems amazing

I sit here hungry everyday but I give up my lunch so you can eat

I do things to make you happy even if it means to give up my own happynis

I would give up every present under the tree just to get you one

I stay by your side even though you have another

Just once I want to hear you say you mean the world to me and I'm glad you stayed ever though I don't desever you

The moon was just an illusion of a beautifull little girl, relaxing with wine and sigarettes, letting her mind go

Today is the day i finally fell in love, she was so beautiful, she was just enough

Its hard to save your heart. Its all gone now, youve torn myne apart. To save you was easier said than done

I shouldve known this feeling was well too kind. I allways knew this was coming but i had hope. In the back of my mind i had feelings to Elope.

This was our happy ever after, everthing you had is gone now, you were the star of the show, take a bow!