Struggles come and struggles go
annihilate each, together with its' bearer
regardless if he identifies himself as friend or foe

Struggle aims at destruction, and drives you to the floor
Remain resilient and savior respiration,
for struggle conquering techniques, you shall soon know

Struggle fails, yet departs having left a mark
For light to shine brightest, we must first experience the dark
Embrace your struggles, your battles and daily rumbles
For they are fueling you for success, and struggle is your spark

After dark, energies flow in manners that pleases them most
braided together in lust, two king cobras were seen spiraling up
when darkness like a camouflage sets in thickly around,you're
the  marijuana of my mind, seeking far horizons of pleasure.
I willingly seek oblivion, when pink pointed goosebumps
like tarantula's love bites, results of mating time cruelty
infest all over my body's landscape, signatures of ecstasy.

I feel your lips become, moist, soft, honey from each drips
never enough,for me, is it possible to get inebriated more?
Your sighs and moans speak the vocabulary of a forgotten
ancient language love hurriedly resurrected for us from past,
brevity is the crux of that lingo of erupting jets of desire,
it teaches you to moan in fifty different tones in all;even more?

Your sharpened nails etch cave murals on my itching back
that has the searing taste of blood, in hot hot chilly red.
my taste buds of lust, begs for more and more of it.
You are the marijuana fueling my narcotic flights that land
in your misty land, enveloping my senses as a whole.
"The night is still young, hear what the darkness whispers"
I hear you speak like an oracle, on things about to happen.

Smoke is filling my bones
The carcinogenic ghosts of an irish ancestory
At war with my german temper
Fueling the fire
To a heart that beats for belonging
Keeping me in step with the frostbitten sidewalks
Of a December morning
Lips moist from french vanilla cappuccino
And your chapstick

Smoke is filling my bones
I'm rolling through my own fingertips
Losing touch with my own reality
Wondering if my knuckles are white from clenched fists
Or the grip around your palm

Smoke is filling my bones
You don't smoke
Yet you fill your lungs with my exhale
Breathe me in
I'll house myself in your capillary beds
Where I'll tuck myself in for the night
Listening to what makes your heart tick

Heirlooms

Jun 2017

One day, parkouring through my uncles two story apartment,

I was drawn naturally to his desktop computer

upon which I found his OkCupid Dating profile.

I don't remember his username, Or anything about the site really,

But I remember the head-shot of a beautiful woman

framed above the desk

the sterile grey Rubbermaid totes behind me like caskets, 

How they made even the hardwood floors

look like they were holding in the dead.

For my Grandmothers birthday

my family gathered at Captain Newicks

her favorite seafood restaurant.

My uncle flirted with the waitress.

I don't think I've ever gone to a restaurant with my uncle where he

didn't flirt with the waitress.

Captain Newicks went out of business shortly after that dinner

followed shortly by my grandmothers life.

the relationship between my uncle and that waitress expired well

before both my Grandmother or Captain Newicks.

I remember asking my grandmother about my Uncle.

Tarots Fool would have predicted

my grandmothers eyelids

a silent prayer before her words.

He had two children by his first wife,

keeps a portrait of her above his desk.

She was a blessing on the family

Selfless amd loved by every one.

She took her own life

Spread her wings to break free from the cage He kept her locked in.

He buried his heart in her casket,

motorcycles, empty bottles

had a third child by a second wife

who buried her heart in drugs and strangers.

Amanda was 6 years old when her mother died.

my uncles wife. Her brother josh was 3

when she died my uncle wanted to put them both up for adoption

he didn't.

Their mother died on the 20th of September

a week after her 25th birthday.

their mother once bought a bunch of carnations

with a dead rose in the middle

and said "it looks like I'm dead".

she took a bottle of pills before going to a chinese restaurant

went out as a family

and collapsed at the table.

she was rushed to the hospital

she didn't make it.

their mother wasn't happy

her and my uncle were getting divorced at the time

lived in the same house that I grew up in.

when my uncle told the kids mommy wasn't coming home

my mother was 17 

and there to see all of it.

When my mother was 17 

she had to watch her baby cousins be told their mother had died.

When my grandmother passed.

grief bounced off of my uncles callouses

ricocheted to my cousins, robbed 

twice now of a selfless mother.

The tragedies in my family

have always enthralled me.

like shakespeare sonnets

I breath them into my faithless nights

tap an extra dream-catcher on my bedpost

in space of a prayer.

When The hearth-fire of our family dimmed 

a tealight in my grandmothers eyes.

grayed, Glossed.

she could no longer crochet 

one big dysfunctional quilt, 

together from our families yarn.

without her needle, 

I was determined to watch how our life spun forward.

The next time I saw my uncle,

He offered me a job.

Thick mosquito blinded us as we carried our sweat 

with Rubbermaid totes into a blue two story home 

deep in the evergreen thickets of Maine.

a tall white fan rotated slowly back and fourth 

Cooling the wet patches on our T-shirts while my Uncle 

flirted with the landlord

I still remember when my uncle tossed me the truck keys

the look of terror I gave him

How easy it was for him to trust

I guess when your heart is buried in a casket 

you stop worrying who has your keys.

It makes me remember

when my daughter asked for my keys 

I would sit her in the drivers seat

watch her pretend to drive.

I loved imagining her free

living how she wanted.

I still wouldn't give her my keys.

she would turn my car into a casket.

It makes me remember

when that little girls mother asked me to drive

My words spun portcullises

prison bars forged in anxiety

scaffolding out of latex secrets

Glued with siren smiles, pacifier kisses

denying cigarette smoke on her breath

fueling infernos in my head.

when my uncle handed me his keys without hesitation.

my religion was insulted by his tough skin.

I felt his simple kindness 

like a splash of holy water. 

saw in me, the devil 

caging a woman like property

holding her hostage 

out of fear.

And yes 

when She could drive she left me

And yes 

when she left me she took her daughter.

every morning 

cereal bowl of pills, I **** myself

keep a poster of my mothers face 

covered in bruises 

behind the tiny orange bottles 

to remind me why I do it.

wake up twice, 

first as Phoenix, dying

second as a watcher, writer and admirer.

callouses are not to protect us from the outside at all.

Callouses harden our bodies into caskets.

Hold in all our dead.

What are we doing out here
In the wild wild west
Are you showing me something
Or are we here to rest
We've traveled a long road
But I'm not ready to settle yet

Spider crawling up my arm one day
Blood on my quilt the next
Blood splot on the bathroom floor
Hair chopped off
Cut my finger
Cut that ****

Third eye minds eye know you can open it
**** nugs nudging you toward it
Chugging fluoride gotta know its blocking it

Depression crippling lazy thinking I'm not getting anywhere anymore
Dated a slick-back sexist slug of a human
He haunts me in my dreams
I'm trying to dream big dream of everything
But his face shows me where I've been
His hands done healing flex ****** veins, stop stealing!
His mom sewing his mistakes back together again, stop helping!
His dad fueling the fire again at home, stop procreating!
Its not the job of a lover to raise your significant other
Its not my job to shower you with everything I have day after ******* day when all I get in return is leftover pizza and a sore ******
-SOME PEOPLE DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOVE
IT IS NOT ON YOU TO SHOW THEM HOW
SOME WILL TRY OUT THE MOTIONS WITH OTHER MOTIVATIONS IN MIND
BUT LOVE IS NOT JUST AN ACTION IT IS TRULY A LIFESTYLE
Without love I would be dead
Fill
With intention
Else you're dead
Living isn't that easy
Same struggles every day
Being healthy isn't that easy
Definitely more expensive that way
Being human isn't that easy
Hunting my own spirit day after day

Not wanting
Feeling bad
Not supporting
But loving

I have something to say god ******
And don't dare tell me its just the drugs
We need to start questioning what love is
The lack of it is ******* stuff up
I'm high right now if you didn't know it
If I was sober would the words still come out

You say you love me but you don't support it
But how can you love if you don't understand it
Love is unconditional
Love is support

How are you loving when you try to change it
There is no fixing my humanity
You don't know what makes me happy
No one can be trusted

Love

Choice

Choosing

To be loved

How can I keep from singing?
For when your Eyes lay their sight upon me
Those soft Lips I know so well
Stretch and curve
Into a familiar shade of Awe
And for when those barres of Awe dare to move
They utter songs of beauty
And whisper words of Love

The same words that I cling to
The same words that fuel me
Though this fuel has Power
To provoke Danger
We are the White Hats of Secrets
And the Keepers of the Dawn

The Sun does not dare to rise
Until we dare to lower
And although the Dawn is kept in our control
It is the Dawn
The Spark and Hint of Light Fueling Life
That is kept in our very being
Life fueling Light

And as we lie down together
Under the
Stars so bright
The Candles and their light
Cannot outshine us

For in that moment
We are a Dream
A Wishful Dream
Now coming true

So lie with me longer
In Reminiscence of our Song
And Dance
By the light of the Moon
Our Memories fueling our Light
Our Light fueling my Life

A fueling, flashing fulgent, furnace, fulgurous, frothy, fumes and feathery flakes,

I do not speak of waves of snow, hoary frost, or ice, a cold gelare or even frozen lakes!

Formidable, furrows, fructifying, functioning fruition to foremost fondly found a flaming,

I revel not in such destruction but choices for my naming!

For flowers flow fields forever, forswearing funneling fjords finitely, fire fray’s forests furthermost,

Instructing in the arts of language, for I am your gracious host!

Fakir formulates factious forms fading flummoxed into fury, a fugacious fusible and furtive fleeting feigning furiosity,

A deep ditch dug, tight as pug, wrapped blanket snub though not a flub, all perspicacity!

Finds frosty frore a frozen freezing faction for fusty flaming feasance,

Fomorian fantasy of formidable faggoting, facient up to fancying, fancying, furnaced flesh fluidity finds itself factitivity, facets for fabulists from the faint familiarity,

Relating cold to heat as such, requires but a human touch, apologize I do you see for all my clueless severity!

Fans of all the falconry, who fallow fields of family, falter for a fallacy, falling into infamy as forgone flame frontogenesis, fatigues a Faustian felony, for which fate finds is fastigiated foolery, febrile features featly and yet furiously, favonian fear of fellowship fiendishly, figures foal to fatherly, finally fiddle flinchingly, although not so too furtively;

I finagle in my filigree!

Red is the color of passion, but the passion of love
A firey burning sensation, heating and fueling lover's desire
Orange is the color of energy, blinding, and fast
Zipping through space and recharging the multiverse
Yellow is the color of friendship, sunshine and bright
Lifting frowns and bringing joy to all
Green is the color of life, growth, expansion
Of Gaia and the vibrant vivacity of Mother Earth
Blue is the color of sadness and melancholy and despair
Of the salty water of both tear and sea
Indigo is the color of calm and surging stillness, contemplation
And intellect, the color of knowledge
Violet is the color of passion also, the passion of music and art
Powerful and strong, mellowed and smooth
And octamarine is the color of magic, the eighth color of the rainbow, falling off the edge of the world into space
White and black, not contained within a rainbow, but both contain the rainbow themselves, they intertwine, yin and yang
White signifying good, pureness, gaiety, life
Black symbolising evil, taint, gloominess, death

Painting the lily black
Tainted by the mist of my heart
It cripples and dies
Surrender to hatred
Compassion I lack
An urge to tear something apart
Resting in human cries
It smothers my hatred
As a wolf running with the pack
Acceleration burns my heart
Upset by your twisted lies
They are fueling my hatred

What makes a Bully?
*Perhaps they to were had a Bully
Or maybe its for self esteem
Or maybe to be mean
Does it matter why?
"No, not to you. You can't think past a fly"
"To me it does, for I have a heart"
No just tear me apart
Why? To make yourself feel more important?
We Bully in a cycle fueling there fire
Do we ever tire?
Can we not think with our hearts?
Or are we still neanderthals with fists apart
Please try to understand
For there is only one land
Let our hearts sing in with friendship
Before we start this forever tearing relationship
So I ask you now if you wood
Perhaps consider brotherhood?

We were supposed to be art
Art in the form of beings
To see, to touch, to evolve with
From the waters, to art
Electricity & salt fueling us
It is all falling, slipping
We are to enchant one another
To feed off the energy produced
By the touch of two eyes
Staring at the moon
Drinking the Spanish wine
The words we speak
The lust that drives us during ***
It is all to have been art
They shoot each other,
Some hate one another,
Others are blinded by themselves
Do not disappear, great art
We are here in the gardens
Inside the paintings
All around the city glowing together
The voice of art is real but fading
Some pretend, no substance
No passion, no sensitivity to the energy
But here it is, a truth to be told
We are to be art, daily
In our sleep to create
In our actions to be alive
And in our minds to explore all worlds

Resplendent rose, luminous green,
Lucid paradisaical palette,
The jewel delivers
It's dyed, distinctive sheen
Graciously, unassumingly

Casting a pink and emerald crewel
Coalescing into traces,
Cuisine for sunbeams
Brushing nature's easel --
Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth,

Realizing among tureens:
Scalloped edge profusions offering
The spoonbill waif
Sweet adrenaline,
Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere.

Bird of prey, humming minstrel,
Airy, iridescent meddler
Between red blooms,
Distant gem's sparkle
Gracing redolent, languid afternoons

Cloaked in shimmering velveteen,
Beating velocious wings, remaining still.

myopic frames on a stern temple remind me that once he too wandered recklessly and felt ardent
empowered by time on his sleeve
there was nothing he couldn't conquer and nothing standing between the open air and breathing it in
i suppose the difference here is i grab the breath of air and hold it in my pocket for when i stop being so nervous

marshmallow heart
the road only goes one way and the streetlights hover and coil eternally, you can never meet the epilogue
a drive-thru drink in one hand while you feel your hair tangling into a mess of a beehive, the one that likes to unwind in soft tendrils on a weak pillow
heart racing for the constant fueling of a near empty tank telling you to go further this time, this time
time isn't yours


holding in a cough
i too have tried to drown waterbugs
my cheek pressed against the tiles of a kitchen floor, hand perched languidly as my fingers make circles in the tiny swamp i made in the middle of the room
but i forget laying there until i hear my own soul walk in with bare feet addressing the elephant in the room, the one that hasn't left since i was sick with bronchitis that winter years ago
and i want to tell her to come here, to come back inside myself so it doesn't feel so cold this season of frost but she brushes me off with the temperament of a child
"i don't exist, i never did" the words dawdle back and forth from her back molars to her incisors  
and i remember when i felt like i was dying when i hopped from one state to the next but realizing a little to late that if i were to go back my dread would jump on the back of my shoulders and force me to look it into it's shiny face and show me the mild nuisance of what it means to be alive
so my soul closes the door and i hear the keys rattle and i myself sink into the warm arms of someone i spent my entire life with

Weeks past
Having no motivation to pick myself up
The universe smiled upon me
And sent a boy with his head in the stars.

Blank
My mind draws a blank.
Having burnt my past I'm speechless
My heart races and I can feel my face flush
An unexplainable sensation overpowers my body.
Starting over.

Its almost as if the frozen winter forged a blank slate
And the affections from this boy melted away everything...
The rush, the butterflies, it all feels new again.
Like I have never fallen in love before


My new sensations are accompanied by a changed mindset
I was truly a new person.
Memories from past loves
Cannot compare to my heart's newest obsession
Such sweet words...
Sugar coated but genuine.
Everything...
His gaze, his walk, his talk
It all makes my heartache
My tongue is tied as he showers me in compliments

Oh his eyes
The way he looks at me and tells me I'm beautiful
I feel as if im drowning
But why?
I'm an experienced lover and swimmer.
But the fog caused by his intoxicating scent makes my past seem ages ago.
Why is this all so fresh...

My thoughts are spinning
And before I can even ask my mind for advice
We're dating.
I was following my heart entirely.

I'm so stunned
It's as if I was wiped clean of my past (and confidence)
Starting over.....again.
Never thought it would feel so
Natural

And so the winter trudges on
His arms around me keeping the fire alive
Snuggling while watching Star Wars
Fueling each other's passions.
I would have never guessed my fate just a month earlier.
Thanks universe.

I know you have felt alone...
Felt like no one cares,
i know it's rare to find a stage in life where your completely satisfied, cause its hard to achieve ultimate fulfillment when there is always someone criticizing you,
judging you,
projecting their insecurities on you or forcing you to see yourself through the eyes of societies impossible standards.
Wealth anxiety, social status,
the vanity fueling self consciousness, as you attempt to stay abreast of fashion and the common misconception of what beauty is,
but ....beauty is not a 6 pack,
beauty is not a tan,
a tan to be darker, while others struggle with not being lighter, beauty is not *******,
a tight ***, smooth skin without pimples,
beauty is not designer clothing that makes you a walking billboard, advertisement or inadvertently providing endorsements for companies who overprice based on their oh so prestigious brand and logo...
Beauty is loving the imperfections
Beauty is never compromising your moral fibre or code of ethics
Beauty is the confidence to want nothing more than what you need,
And not confusing what you need with what you want.
Beauty is knowing who you are
and embracing it
Beauty is standing by the ones who you know love you
Beauty is speaking against the *******, the bullies, and continuing to stand for those who can't stand for themselves when there is reason to stand by them.
Beauty is not your upgrades, luxury or sports car, or smart phone that has dumbed you down and has disconnected you from personal interaction,
Beauty is expressing your opinion
An opinion you formed without prejudice or bias influence
Beauty is developed through an open mind, and a Relentless ambition to uncover deception for the truth...
No matter how hard or unpleasant it is to see or hear
Beauty is not found in disposable income, or the competitive edge
When human nature urges us to feel the need to feel better, stronger smarter or more accomplished
Beauty is found in forgiveness,
Beauty is the good deed you went out of your way to perform,
even if its unnoticed or recognized by the one you did it for
Beauty can't be preserved by ****** creams.
It can't be emulated with cover up,
it can't be purchased, with monetary exchange.
So if you don't feel beautiful,
know that you are.
Know that it has only been lost,
while being blinded by the erroneous thought that you are not enough,
Blinded by the diamonds, gold and glitter you stop to grasp,
resulting in sacrificing the path of your dreams, leading you to the ugly emptiness you feel
....time is precious and can be expensive,
and some expenses can't be paid back once indebted
...sometimes the worst type of bankruptcy has no protection
no lawyer to loophole the damage.
Beauty is knowing that true ugliness is created by chasing insignificant desires
and entertaining temptations that we know deep inside are ugly,
but we tend to forget it is masked with an illusion of beauty
Or disguised with a mirage of denial
Beauty is building character
Refusing to believe that chivalry is dead...
And accepting the unimportant things we obsess Over..
You are already beautiful....
Don't chose to be ugly...
You are already beautiful...

East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions and principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.

we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice

we are  a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...

countless points of comparison,  
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood, through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...

we write......

we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities

yet, we await the marvels of each  morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...

years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through hours, of day or night

while you exist in your own part of the world,
as i, in my hot, humid cosmos, long for cold.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May, 19, 2019

Deny it; it makes no difference:
the American government pitches its deceitful realtor-reality to the world:
flaunting our flag as the banner of the free, but avoiding
our faults and failures as a country.
“Oh yes! We’re rollin’ in the (borrowed) bucks!
We’re a proud superpower capable of chaos; calamity!”
Well, kudos on your catastrophes: we all know it’s a hollow show.

See, we’re slaves to China, bound by China’s chains
to billions of dollars, the deficit deepening daily.
And who’s to blame?
“Not I!” says the Democrat.
“Not I!” says the Republican.
“Not I” say I, but we
weaved our financial woes together.
It’s not stupidity; if we could see into the future, we’d be shakin’ our money makers.
But have you seen the current fiscal guillotine
whose blade looms low and approaching our throats?
Oh, irony of ironies: the American government isn’t free.
Oh mah gee.
Freak out!
Calm down...
Forbes informs me that federal spending spurs private sector growth.
But when fifty-four thousand buckaroos from you
and you
and you
and me too is just enough
to cover Congress’ **** until the dimwits there do another... (insert something dumb),
it’s time to draw the line.

And time to erase lines previously drawn:
George Washington warned us once before:
“...the common and continual mischiefs of [political] parties are sufficient to make it the... duty of a wise people to discourage... it.”
Yet here we are: the media’s reporting majority wars
that serve only to sail us further offshore from Pristine America
and a time when things really seemed to matter, especially when they did.
Deny it; it doesn’t matter; it doesn’t change
our chances of escaping another Cuban
Missile
Crisis. If we waged World
                               War
                                            Three, what would we
                                                       do?
                                                               One
thing: debate, procrastinate, our fate
a fragile plaything fought over
by infantile, full-grown fanatics who never quite phased out of high school debate.
They never learned to lose, and so they play the inane blame game,
I say quite frankly: gurl. Dat cray-cray.

Dear Democracy, when will my words hold water?
When will the weight of a rainbow OREO or a
monogamous monotone monotheistic chicken sandwich
on my guilty conscience be lifted?
Must I muster a hungry lackluster life in the land of opportunity
to oppose tyranny
and uphold justice? I turned eighteen last December,
but for as long as I can remember
I’ve been voting with the dollar bill, my ballot
traveling through the bloodstream, fueling the body of big business, who fuel the daring charities, who fuel their bills in congress.

Democracy, do you know me?

For this faux-democratic nation where the population waits for the government to lay itself to waste, the Founding Fathers sob, disgraced.
                                                       Oh, God Bless America!
the nation where when faced with any
[man, woman, child, intersex, genderqueer, etc.] who dares defile the status quo,
accept the stigma like a crown of thorns, on top of all the scorn
                                                                    We The People
donate millions to “charities” who dare to speak for
Jesus,
the meek and mild. John chapter eight, verses one through eight:
he drew a
fine line in the
sand, man:
it’s where your rights end and mine begin. Irony, irony: they are as good as
mine.
For this faux-democratic nation where the population waits for the government to lay itself to waste, the Founding Fathers sob, disgraced.

I know you have felt alone...
Felt like no one cares,
i know it's rare to find a stage in life where your completely satisfied, cause its hard to achieve ultimate fulfillment when there is always someone criticizing you,
judging you,
projecting their insecurities on you or forcing you to see yourself through the eyes of societies impossible standards.
Wealth anxiety, social status,
the vanity fueling self consciousness, as you attempt to stay abreast of fashion and the common misconception of what beauty is,
but ....beauty is not a 6 pack,
beauty is not a tan,
a tan to be darker, while others struggle with not being lighter, beauty is not *******,
a tight ***, smooth skin without pimples,
beauty is not designer clothing that makes you a walking billboard, advertisement or inadvertently providing endorsements for companies who overprice based on their oh so prestigious brand and logo...
Beauty is loving the imperfections
Beauty is never compromising your moral fibre or code of ethics
Beauty is the confidence to want nothing more than what you need,
And not confusing what you need with what you want.
Beauty is knowing who you are
and embracing it
Beauty is standing by the ones who you know love you
Beauty is speaking against the *******, the bullies, and continuing to stand for those who can't stand for themselves when there is reason to stand by them.
Beauty is not your upgrades, luxury or sports car, or smart phone that has dumbed you down and has disconnected you from personal interaction,
Beauty is expressing your opinion
An opinion you formed without prejudice or bias influence
Beauty is developed through an open mind, and a Relentless ambition to uncover deception for the truth...
No matter how hard or unpleasant it is to see or hear
Beauty is not found in disposable income, or the competitive edge
When human nature urges us to feel the need to feel better, stronger smarter or more accomplished
Beauty is found in forgiveness,
Beauty is the good deed you went out of your way to perform,
even if its unnoticed or recognized by the one you did it for
Beauty can't be preserved by ****** creams.
It can't be emulated with cover up,
it can't be purchased, with monetary exchange.
So if you don't feel beautiful,
know that you are.
Know that it has only been lost,
while being blinded by the erroneous thought that you are not enough,
Blinded by the diamonds, gold and glitter you stop to grasp,
resulting in sacrificing the path of your dreams, leading you to the ugly emptiness you feel
....time is precious and can be expensive,
and some expenses can't be paid back once indebted
...sometimes the worst type of bankruptcy has no protection
no lawyer to loophole the damage.
Beauty is knowing that true ugliness is created by chasing insignificant desires
and entertaining temptations that we know deep inside are ugly,
but we tend to forget it is masked with an illusion of beauty
Or disguised with a mirage of denial
Beauty is building character
Refusing to believe that chivalry is dead...
And accepting the unimportant things we obsess Over..
You are already beautiful....
Don't chose to be ugly...
You are already beautiful...

These bars on the window, they keep me in
Though they are not quite what you would expect
They're not strong or thick, but flimsy and thin.
Instead of iron, they're made of plastic

Although they do stop me physically
It is not in the conventional sense
Of "lock her up and throw away the key"
More like the subtle warning of a fence

They shun the thing that is fueling my fire
Leaving me in darkness, too familiar
The heaviness keeps at bay my desire
To leap into unknown, the barely blur

They trap me not like the bird in a cage
Rather, they stifle, like the soul in rage

I keep the shower window open
In 20 degree weather
There’s somethin’ about feeling
The freeze and burn together
Fusing two halves,
Fueling one desire
Steam pries at pores, like
Needle nose pliers
Winter exploits wounds
Haughty exhales through
Diamond ****** wrist cutters
Cascading
Cherry brandy drain water
Licking ankles purple
Branding Frost’s musings
As my final verse
Fire, ice — whichever comes first
Duality be ******,
I favor efficiency
I’ll marvel as *******
At the sadist who takes me
But know that, once
Is all I can endure
And of this, I am sure

Here in this world I’m awaked with mistakes
But it's love that keeps fueling me

Pretty little lady with the swollen eyes
Would you show them to me?
I know I’m not that perfect
But you stay awhile
Baby, then you will see

Miles away I can still feel you
Lay your head down on my embrace
My embrace
Far away

Pretty little lady with the swollen eyes
Would you show them to me?
I know I’m not that perfect
But you stay awhile
Baby, then you will see

Don’t give up, baby
I know that it's shaky
Just let love consume us
Consume us…

Here in this world I’m awaked with mistakes
But it's love that keeps fueling me
Fueling me to love you

Miles away I can still feel you
Lay your head down on my embrace
Be not afraid to love me

Pretty little lady with the swollen eyes
Would you show them to me?
I know I’m not that perfect
But you stay awhile
Baby, then you will see

There was a street of crocodiles
Somewhere far away
The floor was made of dark blue tiles
And everyone ate curd of whey

The plastic palm trees and electric sun
Made everything seem fake
Like in a second rate movie set
Where props would always break

The crocodiles cried a lot
They sold their tears in jars
Their tears were put in copper pots
And used as fueling for the cars

The crocodiles were all peace and love
They wore velvet on their legs
Spending the days singing Jethro Tull
Eating organic cage-free eggs

Miraculously in a day
They smoked ten pounds of ****
And soon enough they were pretty broke
Living on the street

This was the street of crocodiles
Somewhere far away
The floor was made of dark blue tiles
And everyone ate curd of whey

The plastic palm trees and electric sun
Made everything seem Fake
Like in a second rate movie set
Where props would always break

The crocodiles cried a lot
They sold their tears in jars
Their tears were put in copper pots
And used as fueling for the cars

right now
sacrifice is fueling opportunity
an opportunity to breathe
with an uninterrupted purpose
the corruption of our native soul
stop nourishing it
by constructing whiteness
sacrificing ethnicity
for the temporal indulgence
adrenaline *****
torturing
intensity of dissociation
hallucinating whiteness
the worst drug ever manufactured
forced upon our children
intricate delicate
vulnerable violence
tripping
stumbling
dissociating from an eternity
of survival of the most cooperative
deterring
forgetting
intoxicating
for a moment
momentum of ******

what sound!?
god's surprise
smack to dictate
needed her words
formulate doubt
from the hillside
curious answer
feeding his curse

grab her by the arm
gently
time to go
tonight
we ride tonight
following heart
to the edge of the end
tonight
we ride tonight

if the fallen sore
seeks the golden shore
what can we offer
the muse that is fueling
our destiny back to the throne?
and if the festered rose
abhors in its death throes
then how can she bargain
with those who have wagered
she'd never abandon her own?

she'll lie
awake
haunting dreams
she'll ride
always
to the end
solely her own

I believe life is hiding a secret from me
I don't think it's meant to be so heavy and equally so empty


I lie awake seeking the moon for answers, staring at sunsets falling asleep in oceans
I know it wants me to find it

With every breath I chase the passion that will help me discover it
Discover something
Discover more than the mundane

I believe I'm one step closer, with every poem, every adventure, every photograph


Fueling with more fire every time,
so that it can simply just reveal itself

It won't stop,
It can't stop, the fire that is rushing through it,
Burning it's content until nothing but ash might be left,
An inferno, a firestorm maybe a rain of embers fueling the misery,
When did it start, that conflagration which consumes my being,
When will it end, this purgatory inside my chest, producing misery,
Without realising it I already gave up all my remaining hope,
After all, there is not much left this fire can feast on in laughter,
Will I be hollow, will I fade to ash and blown away into a soft breze ?
In the end it does  not matter, in the end I will not be able to remember, in the end there is nothing for me left to worry about,
My central has been turned into a kiln, fostering this flame,
It may sting, but I can move on, even if I sink to the bottom,
The light in me will finally be able to carry me out one day
All I need to do for that event to be triggered,
Is to hold on,
And hope.


~ Umi

[M i d w a y - H i m e]

Say the words you're afraid to say
You know I want to hear them
Say the promise that we will be in latter day
Say I am the life force that runs through your stem

Say the words you can never bring yourself to say
You know very well that I've been waiting
Say the words that will cause dismay
Say that I'm fueling a fire that's dying

Say the words you can't really say
Fearing the commitment I'd hold you to
Warn me of the rope that threatens to fray
Say that all my wishes will not come true

Say the words you've always wanted to say
Truthfully that there isn't a future
Please... Say the words you mean to say
Just need this knife to go a tad bit deeper

They teach you in school that the building blocks of life and matter are atoms filled with subatomic particles
But believe me when I tell you that they're lying.
"They" are claiming to be your saviors from what is actually fueling your bloodstream.
Protectors of your sanity
But believe me when I tell you it's fraud, a scheme of words that are meant to prevent you from discovering the actual monsters buried beneath your fingernails and hidden in the cracks of your bones.
You see, what the evildoers trains the neurons in your brain to understand is that the demons in your skin cells are atoms filled with subatomic particles.
This is what you know and you know it for a fact until the time comes for the poltergeists within you to attack.
They line up and pluck away at the petals of your once "protected" sanity one by one until you're convinced he loves you not.
Your defense has been destroyed and the demons flood in with no intention to come back out.
The swarms of beasts taking over every aspect of your being is what is now going to cause a new feeling called "numbness."
Your last memory of peace is permanently shattered.
This is called growing up, kids.

Complex cosmos.
   Intertwined divine.
Emerging energies tangled in vibrant vibrations.

   Beings of light.
      Woven through time and space.
Mind meeting spirit.
    An Awakening.

Truth echoes in the silent wind.
   Open eyes with ancient ties.
          The illusion is wearing off.
        Dormant souls colliding,
    Seeing light beyond this realm.

A revolution beyond government and world order.
       A conscious shift, long awaited.
           Beyond technology and media schemes.
         A new view.
     Simply pure.
Beautifully complex.

   A transcending universe in the minds eye.
Opening mystical doorways into the great forgotten.
     Taking spirit back.
         Claiming love and light for all who accept it.

Nature fueling the human imagination.
  The endless curiosity,
       We are cleverly designed to crave.

Follow me tonight,
      I’m the stars in the sky.
  We’re all just seeking truth
        And we’re just passing by.