Never be the Joker
For the Joker never wins
The weakest card oft seeks to guard
Its non-existant sins.

Its folly is in mockery
Because it's well protected
By all the laughs it got from halfs
Of love it ne'er detected.

It thought itself the King of Hearts,
But it couldn't find its Queen
And though the Jack may fail and lack
It did not find its truth obscene.

For many cards may tell their truths
And be beaten from the deck,
But the Joker speaks of lover freaks
He is the stormbeat wreck.

Never lie through jokes or jest
Always tell the truth to poker
For though its sides are mirrored lies
They're truer than the Joker.

Half-forms, half-thoughts,
Rolling, rolling, turning,
Swirling and meshing and churning and fusing,
A whole chaotic jumbled mess

That makes perfect sense to one.

One brave soul amidst the storm,
One strong figure against the tempest,
One resolute leader, unwavering hero,
Can understand the brew.

The others think him mad
For watching the Halfs flash by.
Him, mad? Possibly.
Be he thinks himself sane.
And who can tell him
“Sane” or not?
They see Halfs, he sees Wholes.
They see tumult, he sees languidness.
They see chaos, he sees order.
They see a storm, he sees peace.
So he smiles to himself as they quake;
They do not understand the humour.
The Wholes shared something amusing
With their steadfast Captain,
But the others see Halfs, so the humour was lost.
This is all the more amusing,
And so this sane madman
Laughs and laughs and laughs.

The black deep emptiness
Gave birth to all the things
Colours and shapes and bodies
The heat and the cold
The water and the soil.
Everything that ever existed
Rised from non-existence.
Light was born from the darkness
And the darkness existed out of the light.
Death brought life
And life circled back to death
Breath was given to all the living
And it was taken back from all the dead.
The flesh and the meat and the bones
They were all given once
And they were all taken back from the debtor.
Mother nature created all things in circles
So everything could be complete
So everything could be half.
Identical halfs that are neither missing nor whole
Create wholeness out of emptiness.
She made the time as a circle
The beginning and the end
As halfs of a complete
So there would be no beginning
And no end at all
So there would be both beginning and end,
Life.

You're counting halfs now?
You're just a ***** who is counting *****'.
I got offered **** today, but i didn't do it.
You're telling me you want shrooms?!
Would you like to like it?
There is bunches of naked ladies.
You could ******* together.
The smell is not right.
Dan give me half of it, you owe me 5 bucks.
YOU GIVE IT TO ME NOW!
You're trying to get my **** in my pocket...

Words spoken
to paint a picture
Of a life so grand
the perfect mixture
Of love, joy, peace
and happiness
The freedom to pursue
a measure of success

A life with no dissention
but only tranquility
To walk hand in hand
in a spirit of humility
To work together
to reach our goals
No longer two halfs
but finally a whole

Freedom to exercise gifts
through self expression
Never tearing down
or have bad intentions
Building up
in the spirit of love
One that's so pure
and sent from above

The ideal life
portrayed through words
But time will tell
what'll really unfurl
A simple disagreement
turns into WWIII
I got question for you
is the grass really green?

Stew
Full of many things,
Carrots,
Orange,
Crunchy but still soft
Round,
Cut into little orange disks

Potatoes,
Crisp,
White,
Cut into angular halfs

Bison,
Fed rotten fruit in a pasture
Pears,
Oranges,
Apples,
And many other things.
Making the meat sweet.
Now shredded into bits in my bowl.

Onions,
Clear,
Soft,
Sweet,
Cut into little strippes in my bowl.

Sometimes when i say goodbye.
I wonder how I hold it togather befor
the phone touches the reciever.

Does she know the pain I mask.
Memories make us drunk with emotion.
Time makes us bitter from the cold.

And in the darkness she brings light.
Under the ice she creates warmth.
She kisses  the past away.

My shelter in which to run
If I choose to lead so does she follow.
Two halfs of one heart.

Weve walked across broken glass to lay
in a feather bed.
The nights passionet flow
her head apon my chest.

And how could I find one so perfect for me.
Distance takes the heart and traces the tear.
Such comfort brought from the understanding.
That pain would be erased if she were here.

Jules i see that next day as a promise
set in stone.
That from that first hello
we found in one another a reason to never be alone.

The highway rolls into the horizen
eternal is the love.

As a sun sets apon the ocean we stand
my arms wrapped around you waves crash into the shore.
In love I give everything.
For i could spend a lifetime here with you.
And still thirst for more.

With words we struggle to say.
What flows from the pen.
Also bleeds form the soul and that
shall never go away.

Magnificent eyes,
full of many lies.
Holding no expression
only leaving ghostly impressions.

What I’m about to say
may blow you away.
Your daughter is sick,
so stop being so thick.

Demons laugh
there are two halfs.
You broke the mold
never doing what you're told.

Flying glass,
you tell me it will never last.
Dry throat, like smoke.
My parents are a joke.

Open your mouth wide
let me look inside.
Let me take a seat
while you raise with heat.

Inside the girl, there is sickness.
Inside the sickness, there is death.
Inside death, there is darkness.
In the dark things are healed.

A man - Caked in thick, matte black bodypaint
Reeking of desolation, clinging to his skin like perfume would to a harlot
Staring awkwardly through walls, through time and space
Hoping to catch the gaze of any who hope to find themselves around the back garden on a folded beach chair.

Weightless in form, floating out from out where
Cones, rods and a pupillary light reflex as the absence of stimulation is introduced
Shifting - As if guided on rails, pulling out onto a stoop
There are no stars in the night-time sky tonight...
The trees, pylons and blackness overhead seem to bend and contort across the sky
- Covering up the hot countryside air and denying my imagination may it wander.

A feeling, polarised by dread and a curiosity
- A curiosity, to peer over the edge
Yet all I know is that whatever I do, I don't want to look over that edge
Suddenly, a traction pulls at every bad idea I ever had
Forcing me to lose trust in any control once possessed.

Tethered to the eventuality of curing this culmination
- Tilting into infinity
Smashed against comfort and lost in cymatic fibration,
Thoughts of before turn to liquid gold, cherished in an off-key harmony no longer sung.
The ground reveals itself, sporting a familiar sick green blush.

I see that man.

He paints with a ******* to my chest
Ingesting a week and a halfs worth of weeks - Burning to my delight
A volcanic pastiche of horror and abandon
- Peering into the whites of his eyes, I see nothing
Among the darkened streaked skin of his naked body
His features remained impartial, withdrawing his humanity from pretense
This performance is one that destroys my grip on actuality.

As if seeing God himself, I wretch uncontrollably at the conception of circadian fog
Filling up the lungs of our own incomprehension to repeat existence in ignorance (Eternal)
Shuddering from every sub-atomic particle to bone in the human body - 206 tremors of glass etched neurosis
The unknown, the unspoken and unborn come slithering down to remind all of its putridity.

An almost impossibly sonorous scream of agonising despair
- Echoes reluctantly through the ribbons of eventide,
Passing through every particle like ink to paper, creating a gaussian of impetus.
Making it's way into my ears - rattling me backwards, as if being shot from a cannon
I cannot turn, I cannot move, I cannot think, I cannot be.

In an instant I'm gone...

Shooting up from dormancy - Just as quick as I was gone, I was suspended back into the urgency of normality
Anxiety rushing, almost racing through me - I take a lifetime to regain my breath
And settle into composure, wondering if I'd understand.
Propping myself on one arm, my mind wanders yet my clothes and covers cling like glue - As if heavier from a nervous sweat
Looking into the featureless dark of this room I feel frightened
- The whole house sags to one side, becoming sinister, malevolent.

An ambience joins me, I am no longer alone
I am being watched and I am scared like I can't tell you...
Everything becomes sinister, even my own thoughts hate me,
Yet I begin to plague my ego with a question of identity - Internally and externally
Who was that man?
What had I saw?
I don't feel safe anymore, something feels like it could happen
Something perverse,
Reality is no better an anchor,
Setting ship in an ocean of ambiguity - Occupied by a school of Samsara.

One day I'll find myself walking out of a house onto a stoop
And I'll ask myself the question - "What is over the edge of this wall?"
When the opportunity presents itself, (Silver lined)
Maybe then I'll know the answer.

My olive colored doll
pains my soul.
with every twist and turn

black bandage covering mole.
left doll moving quicker
right doll strolls.

They've begun a bicker
more so a battle.
now everyone feels a bit sicker.

I prefer them simple like cattle,
And indeed they are strong
However, it's not that simple.

blasphemously wrong.
two halfs of a doll, faces a cracked
glue them now, make one real long.

I'm going back to school in less than two weeks. "Will I make it?" has what I've been on my mind for the past week.
I am not a female, my gender identity does not match with the word "girl", but my family sure thinks so. I want to come out to them, but I have an extreme fear of stages, and I'd have to put myself on the potium to tell them,"Hey, I'm a boy." I fear I'd have to yell, scream, and chant for them to be able to hear my message and understand what I'm saying. Even then, would they except me?
My mother told me to wean myself off of my antidepressants because of the way they affected her. I didn't feel like arguing so I did it anyway. I wish I could continue to take them but the halfs of those pills left a bitter aftertaste I wish I could forget, because that taste made me feel better. I'm away from my pocket knife and that makes me want to unzip my arms from wrist to elbow, letting my stars and comets finally be free as the voices begin to silence and the shadowy creature wave goodbye.
I tell myself my body is a universe, to seem more beautiful, to see myself in a different light. My universe is haunted by demons though. The Suns that glow inside my eyes are dying from the unwanted shadows and orbs ******* them dry of life, they're about to burst, becoming a super nova. My vision is blurry and dotted, and all I can see are solar systems falling apart, turning into different variations of Hell, they're beginning to orbit nothing but obsessions and wanting to find love in the wounded parts of myself and others.
I know some people believe that you can't love others unless you can learn to love yourself. That isn't true. I've loved, I've loved others before, I haven't been able to find the right textbook that gives me step by step instructions on how to not see myself as a complete waste of air. I wish I could love myself, it seems I can temporarily do that when I'm with someone, but when my self esteem begins to leave, I know that's when it's going to end. I'd rather be left alone than be able to predict the end of my happiness. My 11:11 wishes, my blown away lashes, my lucky pennies, leave me. The wishes came true, they did, but didn't last as long as I wanted them to. I guess I'm my own fortune teller, in some way.
So, I ask myself, "Will I make it?" Because I know things are supposed to get better, and I know these downhills will eventually level out, but if I get low enough, I'm afraid there is not coming back up.

I mistake what does me good
With myself.
I can only be one
In the presence of others
To bound where I fit.

I am dangerously propitious
To incompleteness
Due to the lack of world, of rain,
Of wasted shoe soles,
Of hoarse voice,
Of watching a complete turn of the sun,
Of sincere philosophies,
Of anarchist desires,
Of arrogant discoveries,
And of humble advices.

But even the incompleteness
Composes me.
The absences are what define character.

It's been 7 years
Since you called me
After a year of silence.
You cried your tears on the phone
Drunk and hurt
I still don't know why I listened
Made peace out of my anger
But such is love between friends.

You arose from the flames
Like a raging phoenix
The woman I always knew
You'd one day end up being.
Now the mother of a 3-year-old
The girl who learned
To love herself unconditionally.
You have become the Dragon, the Lion
My personal hero.

The woman I never fully understood
You could become.
But there was a fierce strength in you
As you handed me a small box
Containing two necklaces, two halfs of a heart
And instructed me to give one to my best friend.

I guess my anger must have
Fully healed and made place
For reverance and respect.
I found the box and the necklaces
And as I sat there wondering
Why I never gave you the other half
I receive my answer in the form of humility
I should have believed in you
It's been 7 years...

You see I was not punishing you
I was punishing myself.
I take a deep breath that unburdens me
Tell you the things I never spoke out
To anyone else before
Let your gentle heart heal me
I let you make me better again
Like only you could.

So we start over
At the end of a bad year
I hold the box before you
"Do you remember this?"
Your eyes were blank
So I opened it
And handed you the other half
"It always belonged to you anyway;
You are the Raging Phoenix
Unhindered by the tallest flames
And I see you now"

The music melodically displays octaves
Halfs and fulls
Turns and pulls

The music strikes as lighted candle melts
Pass and trance
Rights and ache

The music reflects the glow of the angels
Doubts and dives
Trenches and abodes

The music is the transparent glass that echoes
Pins and needles
Hints and middles

Music our life
adjoining our ribs in the gardens of abundance

Music our soul
expressive songbirds of yesterdays and todays

Music is our love
a yoke that we take to the peaks of mountains tops

Music is our gun
an aftermath that seduces our sutured love pots

Music our gum
Bonding us together in dismay and distance separating us

Music is our story
Narrating our mediocre existence and complications

Music is our chorus
A harmonic hymn that unfolds as we realise the air within

Our music is these words
*of photographic memories and happenings of now and morrows

12/24/07

1:31 am


She sleeps like a female
orgasming
arms up over her head
fists gripping invisible string.

She snores like a feline
a pleasant purr
redundantly peaceful in rythm.

Stirring
she moves slowly
looking disgruntled
by a jostle from my side of the bed.

Open palms like jesus
relaxed and willing
to save my soul.

Beneathe the covers
her legs are a valley
a proud flock of geese in winter
and i am always their leader.

The cotton sheets
covering her steady soles
present two perfect triangles
like the smooth wooden building blocks of yesteryear
or mommy-tailored sandwich halfs.

Stirring again
she props her arms under her calm face
soft and sweet
pulsing and pure.

Her hair, the darkest moss
spry and lively
tangled in ribbons
like christmas bows
just waiting to be unwrapped...

From fire to water, earth to air,
From seed to tree, shop to table and chair,
Light and dark, high and low,
Plain and simple the story go,
Opposites exist, and they exist together,
Day time, night time; whatever the weather,
The moon does not give light to spite the sun,
They shine together as one,
So opposite but still coexisting,
I do not see what we humans are missing..
You have conflictions inside you, and thats okay,
I have contrast in me too, we were made this way,
Point is, balance is key,
The balance between survival and unity,
But you're deeper then the mirror you see,
Don't be afraid to venture in and peek,
Dig deeper in halfs or quaters,
Sink further and live beyond your shallow waters,
Let it be known that opposites exist,
There . I said it .. Erased the myth.

Forget trying to be equal by the standards we as humans have created for ourselves; gender, religion, wealth, appearance, history, race, sexuality etc . Because fact is we're never going to be the same, we're never gonna be equal - Don't fight to be equal when we're all so amazingly different.. Fight to be able to do what you want. Free the female ******, let the lady boys use the female bathroom, let the age distanced couple go for gold, let the Muslims in, let the boys kiss eachother on the train, let Donald Trump get assassinated, let us smoke ****!! BECAUSE OUR LIVES END ! With or without a closure child to leave behind you'll die one day and that will be IT! So just embrace whatever it is you are, and just go with it . Learn so that hopefully your soul will go on to a more profound existence.

I get angry when sad,
cries like throwing darts.
I never really aimed,
hit only by mistake.

But with you,
you made me try
with you was knifes,
your body the apple.

I wanted to cleave,
your chest in two
halfs of an apple,
split like me.

See your clockhouse,
never cared for time,
promises are old seeds,
never coming up.

Now you're wrinkled.
Fallen from the tree,
kicked around by life,
but still the same.

Apples go bad,
faster when in two.
Turn back the years,
to safe us a little time.

I have never felt so alone until I stood next to my best friends, now lovers
Jealousy wasnt the issue, no
What I thought were feelings of falling in love were really just sibling love and care for both of them
But, as time passed on and I watched the world continue on, I realised that, Love isnt meant for everyone

Because in todays society it seems like the only ones finding their "other halfs" and I quote, are idiots too ignorant, too stubborn, too childish, too plainly dumb and inconsiderate that I am beyond SHOCKED that those people are hopelessly in love. No...

It isn't fair. Really truly, for those of us that work hard to better ourselves and are passionate and educated, and to have to subcome to loneliness, it isnt fair.

For those of us that have been fortunate enough to know love, only to have lost it, have it taken away from us...it just isnt fair.
There is no guide to how to properly grieve, how to move on after you've lost the love of your life. I guess thats just something they'll choose to ignore


So as I look at my two dear best friends, hopelessly, endlessly and stupidly in love, I can't help but smile and be happy for them.

For although I am told I'm far brighter than so many from my youth, I can't help but admit, that I'd give all my brains, all my beauty, just to have someone hold me.

sitting too close to me; telling me what I long to hear between nibbles on the tip of my ear. I think I like this. your warm breath on my neck. your tone insinuating ***. hands where they shouldn't be. mischievous giggles and heavy breathing. we shouldn't be doing this. no one between us even for a second thinks of our partners. our supposed other halfs because in this moment we seem to complete each other. fill each other's spaces. far from our others because for now we are lovers and thoughts of them are evaded. why we are we doing this?

-
Why don't parallel lines ever meet?
Is it because they are too similar
And if they ever could meet
The one will fit the other
And they would be complete
-
Maybe life never intended for them to meet
I mean look at Adam and Eve
Two half's of which made one whole
Made one mistake
That would spiraled the world out of control
God probably saw it wasn't good and he said no more
-
But it leaves me to question
People who found their other halfs
What secret do they know that we don't
Or do they get to happy and we don't
If so then where did we go wrong
-
When I look at you
I see the mirror image of me
When I think of it
Together we can set each other free
But maybe life never intended for us to be
And just like parallel lines
Maybe we're not supposed to meet
-
Lowkie ®

I'm scared now
it'll always be the same
We'll lie about forever
argue and refuse to take blame
6 months of medicore happiness for it all end same
And six months more to make sure it cut the right vain
Two halfs of my heart lie on the bedroom floor
One half to be taken and the other half yearning to be complete once more

Sometimes is life you want people to do things but it doesnt always work like that.
Ive found if you let them do it on their own it will normally work out.
Two halfs make a whole. Puzzle pieces naturally fit.
Sometime waiting on the wrong person you will loose the right person.
Live life and always keep your head up. Love yourself. And dont  wait for anything, waiting and looking on for the wrong bus, an the right bus will pass you by.

Half ways are not halfs,
They're two thirds or more,
The midpoint does not account
For the prior doubts,
The self empowerment,
The fights against our louder inner judging voices.
They're midpoints,
But most of the world
Is hidden from space,
Things are in all 37 dimensions.

Half ways is just a reminder
That though most of the work is done,
It's the last half that lead to an end.

This bottle's been pressed
from two separate halfs.

As is much in life.

Love.

Teamwork.

We're all just as bound together
as this bitter vessel of liquor.

Just gotta pay less attention
to the seam,

and focus more on
what's inside.

We are the alien
not them
we're the interloper
not the fifty a boat
across the channel
half of us can't speak our own language
and half of us cannot communicate
and half of us can't do the maths
three cheers for the three halfs
and the fourth half can't pluralise.

we should all wear a ******' mask
to hide the shame

Oh these hands lurching
toward you
through

Look at them splayed
un mirrored halfs
almost tremble

keyboards so lettered
pose frozen as if
then was now

stepping
run
on

take this noun
tis yours
landing