Hea swimming and sunbathing
doing nothing but lying by the pool
enjoying the hot summer sun
feeling the gentle breeze blowing on my body
producing the cooling effect no air-conditioning system can compare

Hea swimming and sunbathing
doing nothing but lying by the pool
when all other city folks are busy working at office....
wearing only swimsuit to enjoy sunbathing
giving me the freedom and joy no other activities can compare

(Hea is a Cantonese word that means wandering around, doing nothing and killing time.)

Cleanliness bring hea

Crows and corn chips, Squirrels and beer sips…
Lazy hammock and Hemming-way,
our rabbits mowing the grass today...
A nap under the advancing stars,

A Paradise in our Backyard!

Raccoons love the chicken bones,
everynight, a fox visits our home,
Fish guts and crab-leg shells,
opossum out there giving-‘em-Hell,
Casting corn and some bird seed,
for Mother Nature everything she needs,
God’s aces and a Wild Card!

A Paradise in our Backyard!

Ohhh! In summer a Bar-be-que,
and you the prettiest girl I ever Knew!
Couple ‘o kids and a swimming pool,
mini-van and Cadillac-cool,
Love the beaches and mountains,
of Carolina and my country-kin,
Wouldn’t trade it for the whole of Mars,

A Paradise in our Backyard!

You and me under the stars,
our home, children and a dream of ours,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
I thank the Lord for your tender heart.
Our life amazing, though a, rough start,

A Paradise in our Backyard!

Oo-oh -a paradise in our Backyard!
You and me under the stars,
Our home and children; a dream of ours,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
I thank the Lord for your tender heart...
...a Paradise in our Backyard!

Some people say it’s just a yard,
...this paradise under the stars,
Leo, Virgo, Aries and Mars,
you, me, children of ours.

Our home, children, a dream of ours,
I thank you Jesus for your tender heart;
Paradise in our Backyard!

A Paradise in our Backyard!

Oooh -a paradise in our Backyard!
You and me under the stars,
Our home and children a dream of ours,
Leo and Virgo, Aries and Mars,
A Paradise in our Backyard!
Praise Jesus and NAS-CAR!
You and me under the stars,
our home and children a dream of ours,
Leo and Virgo, Aries and Mars,
some people say it’s just a yard?
You and me under the stars
-and a Paradise in our Backyard!

A Paradise in our Backyard!
A Paradise in our Backyard!
A Paradise in our Backyard!

<musical break>

I love you,

heaven: Hea Anna

Crackling criss-crossing blue in mind. It scissors down the lanes through the pipes and tubes and little dividers. Electrical mind numbing beauty. Veins-bursting in excited anticipation. Convulsions and scenic skittering routes. Into the Nexus! Here simmers what we are thinking and believing. Our mind's eye focuses and drips into the pool until completion. Psionic figures dance flicker through life existence. Pulse-width fluctuations. Tiny menagerie of our Will. Scribbling through dusted panes of time interface. All afire with ourselves once we have discovered ourselves. Nano-tech emotions. Hope fear anger mercy curiosity buzzing swarms of grey goo jibbering and bubbling in an artificial mind-****. What is all this allusion? Nothing complicated. Speculation on future times where sensual technological biological singularity is paramount. In my room where the clocks are taped over and the sun is dark and dim. Through the windows I see myself. The boxes on the floor emanate simple clickings with melodies intertwined casually. I myself appear redundant. I have done this and so have others. To discuss oneself is worthless unless you become convinced you are another entity gazing back across the room. I feel I am being watched. I become cautious as he may have noticed. Tingling weightlessness tickles in waves in both heads. The Jazz Classic appears. Old dark men and women in hazy environments. Organic supposition or cold observation? Both hold importance so let us appreciate it all. The cello quivers and hums with vibration. Fingers callused and riveted like the age-old corn field bother still strings. A child hums to just myself. What does he want? I never asked him for an audience. Yet he freely gives it to me. Now he multiplies. Or she? Children confuse and cause one to be apprehensive. Nothing and silence. Silence in movement. Cease my visual stimulation for a couple seconds each. The child is back. What does he speak? Pray inside the rubble? Heal in this place? In disgrace? I do not know. His octaves are meshing together. Whining and thrumming with strange alterations. Some madmen tweaks my ears. Maybe he knows the child? I'm not sure. Let us continue on. The flute is the child. Old cello, you have stopped? These musings mean nothing. I would look upon them in a year and think nothing of it. Yet it feels as if this time is important. Da Vinci knocks on the door. Not as if I wanted to talk to it. Wouldn't mind I suppose. He is gone. We talked but I do not remember the conversation. Perhaps we've all talked but we just don't remember our conversations. That's ridiculous though. Then anything is possible. We could have flown to the moon on scarlet weasels outfitted with the latest nano-pores that secreted pure liquid indulgence. And we did because I just imagined we might have. However, I don't remember actually doing it. Just what I thought it might have been like. How frustrating. My thoughts are the same as all others who write out their thoughts when under the influence of yourself. It always seems like some thing is scuttling near my feet or under the nightstand; just out of view. Strange. I would be afraid. No reason to fear that which doesn't bother me. No reason to fear much of anything. That's been said before. Why are we so often concerned with saying that which has been said before? Cliche? auump-ump auump-ump auump-ump little thumping noise in my ears. That vibration is calming. Every night I am awake. Every day I seem asleep. I do not like it but I do not care yet I allow it to be what it will. Vision defaults to out of focus. My eyes always cross if I cease trying to control them. People are strange. Animals are strange. Same thing I guess. Someone will find that clever. Someone will find it cliche. This someone won't care. ****** fantasy permeates day to day. More entertaining than living a fantasy though. ***. Not that entertaining. Perhaps no one knows how to do it properly anymore. Maybe we never did. Maybe some people are just disenchanted with it. When I'm by myself, I never have any ****** desire. When around others, I generally think of it out of curiosity: what would it be like to please the person in front of me? The only enjoyment I've had with *** would consist of pleasing another or observing another ****. The human body is intriguing. Definitely. I really do think so. Sometimes I look at my own. Not out of appreciation really. Just the fact that I have body allows me to investigate it and understand it more. Pain is merely a stage one can get past, so I suppose I injure myself sometimes to see how I react. It's like I need to check I'm still working properly. I can't tell when I'm tired. I feel something, but when I ask myself if I'm tired, I murmur back, "I don't know." Maybe that is why I stay up till early mornings? I wanted to add again that the human body is beautiful and unappealing all in the same space. Perhaps the unattractiveness and softness and strangeness produces attraction. A negative and a negative equals a positive. Three negatives likes to fluctuate. In my mind at least. I may ask another to remove their clothing and whatnot during those intimate moments. Eh, never quite feel like having *** though. I like the emotions and sensuality of just looking at someone. They usually want to physically play around with each other. I think I enjoy fighting more. One day I'll leave everyone except I'll reminisce on those I enjoyed meeting. Maybe come back and visit? I would like to ride something quickly through an empty desert. Find my own food and water. Create shelter. Think by myself. My room is the smallest desert I have and the biggest. I have more in my head but I only occupy one at a time. I suppose I like I do like things like all others. I mean, materials can be nice. If I impart meaning on to an object it gains importance. I see it vital to also say that if it were to be lost, then I wouldn't mind and I would obtain something else or nothing at all.The constitution. Just mentioned by some woman in my room. Or in my ears would be more correct. Constitutional Rights. I honestly don't see the need for them. I was criticized for burbling that once. We should not need a constitution. We should be able to do what we like to do without fear or concern. Unless natural fear and concern appears. Now that may confuse a bit. Right to bear arms. I shouldn't have to be told or allowed to massive bear arms if I feel the need to have them. Big hairy bear arms. Curious little mishap. Freudian slip as Johnny said once? Danger Danger. Anyway, Right to bare arms. I shouldn't have to be told, as I look back,  go back and throw in that comma after told, that I'm allowed to bare arms and defend myself. I'll just do it if the need arises. Freedom of speech. That already has many issues these days. However, there shouldn't have been a need to tell people they have freedom of speech. Speech should have been freely allowed and never oppressed in  the first place. Theme? We have erred so much in the past and I would think sometimes we ignore that and just try make little cosmetic fixes by saying it's okay. Another point. Hold that: side discomfort. I sometimes feel like a little spider or creature is crawling or skittering on my leg under the covers or I'll change the music to Galaxy 2 Galaxy 90's hi-tec jazz there we go. Done! Now back! Or I forget what I said about the spiders. Another point: what? ******, curse damnable ****. Can't recollect what it was I was connecting together. Something that tied in to deceiving people into things are okay. I could go on about consumerism and all that jazz. Instead I'm listening to some techno-jazz whatever-decided-to-call-it. Hyphenated phrases are fun when I decide they are appropriate. English and grammar in such can be cool but at the same time I want to say **** it and stay proper. Do both. Acknowledge how to write and speak "correctly," but as long as someone understands what you are trying to say, then why correct more? Someone large doesn't like the fact I make a lot of noise in the morning. I stole some speakers and subwoofer from the room next to me as I was going to say Austin.  They are on the floor and whichever large person lives below me is probably annoyed or was. I don't spend any of my actual time despising them, but I'll easily say I despise them when someone asks. Otherwise it isn't worth wasting time on. Perhaps the vibration quivers downstairs and shakes them silently. The greate beast is perturbed and sneaky vibrations cause electro-annoyance! Her pulsewidth as I understand it must be like a super-saw as I think it. Silence. Some woman said it's just a feeling. HEA not sure what why I put that sounds like a garageband song. Switched to Inspiration! That is what I did this night. Finally start writing and making things again. Even though I never did and always did. My head sometimes hurts from thinking. Never truly though. Gotta say those things to keep the conversation going. That is really the only reason I say anything. To keep the conversation going. Otherwise I'd just watch people and be just fine. Just yelled "bahh," out loud (didn't sound the comma) because I felt the need or the want. Same. Wrong keys erased. sdas=a====dddddddddd Sorry. Oh well. Oh My. How the time flies goodbye. Going nowhere. Could write more but I felt the slight flicker of wanting to stop. So I do. What an ending. Now I'm only typing to continue the conversation with myself. Just thought ******* sounds good melody. Do as I sayt way to go good job. STOPSDMFA

****** a

Guess I'll read this little conundrum I wrote up. Stop writing ******. Stop EDITING

sailing down
a sunless sea
downward to
infinity
no stars above
to give me hope
or guide me to
an island shore
with every change of course i make
my destin--y
remai-ns unchang---ed

no escape
from this wilderness
no running from this
empti-ne---ss

...da-da-da-dahh
duh da-da da da dahhh

ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
fa--r
so far be-yond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long time
just take my hand
and you will find...

...da-da-da-dahh
duh da-da da da dahhh

so i turn my ship
into the wind
and fa-ce the tru-th
that i have seen
softly singing
she calls my name
with open arms
i release my pain
and as the sea closes over me
my hea-rt at last finds
ser-en-it---y

... oblivio--n
a broken heart's best frie-nd

ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
fa-r
so far be-yond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long ti-me
just take my hand
and you will find...

... oblivio--n
a broken heart's best fri-end

so i turn my ship
into the wind
embrace the heart of
obli-vi---on...

"hello friend"
she welcomes me within...

so ta-ke
my ha-nd
and come
and come with me
far
so far bey-ond
this storm
this stormy sea
rest your weary heart within
leave the wor-ld
behind my friend
you've heard me calling
for a long long time
just take my hand
and you will find...

obli-vi-o---n
obli-vi--o---on
obli-vi-o--n

" i'll be your bro-ken hea-rt's
be-st frien--d... "

.
Pic Poem
http://oi57.tinypic.com/10qb7tz.jpg
.

Within the dragons' den—
    the smoke they breathe; twists, turns, spirals
    hea'enward in clouds of tar and ash
    (their mouths gaping and nostrils flared).

Indeed they don't breathe fire—
    They inhale it, swallowing whole
    The ancient gift of Prometheus
    (the first giver of stolen goods).

A wise woman once said:
    'This is the closest one can be
    with said sacred element. Yet
    such intimacy comes with price
    (as with all sim'lar relations).

I see their wrinkled skin
    And hear their deep raspy roar that
    rarely, though spontaneously
    interrupts their philosophy
    (or words of the drunk lay-dragon).

consisting of eyes it sits there on the wall wondering what wondering is like and liking where it's thoughts wondered. eyes sat still seated no where in particularly yet sitting. watching in wonder waiting to see what the sad girl who happened to sleep where it lived living happily while she simply lived. it waited and watched. watched and waited. wondering why if she brought home a man he left soon after. she cried. it wondered what there was to cry about. she had a bed. she ate and slept. showered and dressed. studied and learnt. yet she cried. and cried. distressed about what was wrong with her it wondered. it especially wondered why she had red lines on her wrists that she covered. but she ate and slept. lived and cried every day.

she felt the pressure getting to her. texts to read tests to pass. and the pain was persistent. not possible to pin point. it was everywhere. covering her from hea to toe was an aching throb. some days when the ache wouldn't stop. the only way to focus it on one point. was with a blade. simple and harsh.

it got lost in the missing spaces of the girls life. live simply to live simple as that.

Heartbroken
Heartbroke
Heartbrok
Heartbro
Heartbr
Heartb
Heart
Hear
Hea
He
H
Hu
***
Hung
Hungr
HUNGRY.

I
                                          listen when i-
                                        n many moods
                                      bec-                 ­ a-
                                     use-                  it
                                     he-                  lps
                                      to­               clear
                                       m-       y mind.
                                        music alway-
                                   s makes thin-
                               gs better. I-
                        t lets me e-   s-
                 cape my t-           o-
             rtured r-                   e-
          ality. T-                       he calm it br-
        ings                    makes me feel safe, and t-
        he st-              rength          i-             t gives
         me h-            elps                m-              e to st-
           and               tall.               It               helps
              me                   ke-             e-            p my
                    hea-                               d         held
                             high, even when my h-
                                    eart is breaking.
                                                       ­      It
                                  it                          ­ai-
                           ds me in e-                   x-
                        pressing my-                 se-
                         lf. It                          ke-
                              eps­ me sane. Music
                                      is my safe
                                          place.

I dream about you everynight
Its always so beautiful and serene
You hold my hand while we walk in the wet morning grass
Blanket soaked with fresh dew since you held me as we watched the sun both set and rise
I see your eyes, darker than mine big, bright and full of hope
As you stare lovingly in the warm moonlight
While we slowly dance to beautiful old love songs
You have a voice both sweet and deep
Your whisper softly singing my to sleep
I feel the butterflies in my stomach
When your lips brush against mine
I feel my heart beating in my chest
And you tell me how you'll always be mine
Then I wake up
Looking to the left
But I am alone, wondering when I will meet you
I hope your existence isn't all in my hea

I would thank...you
There is such beauty in your...pain
And there is the...healer in.me.
but the ache let's me know I'm alive
I've loved you in my hea(rt)d
and my hea(d)rt longs to.know.you.more.
I was so rarely lonely...before,...I met you
...and it doesn't/wouldn't/couldn't/won't have
to make sense to anyone,...but me and {maybe} you
//how you seeped into my bones//linger in my mouth//your pirate smile smuggles my thoughts//
And,....tell me now, darling; how do I get
through...tonight...today
{knowing you are out there}
And we con-nect-ed....
SO...ManY...Dots...
andwordsmatter.
When it went  //     silen.t.    //
well...
it just knocked me to the floor...
...and i've been laying/lying/laid/lain there
ever...
...since...

Follow me, me, me,
I shall lead you
to the parting of the seas,
I shall be the one

Day and night,
fluffy clouds of living wool and ticks we are,
not in the sky, but grounded in green grass around,
We follow you,
You I have never known, never seen,
but leader by seeds of my ancestors sown,
I have grown with the herd, all I have known.

The shadows are watching,
Wolves across the darkened prairie,
Awash in the milky white of moonlight,
They hunt by night,
These wisps of fright.

You Leader, Oh most Invisible one,
at the front of the run,
wolf-wary and toiling under the sun,
And moon.
The wolves are always looking to the sky,
I wonder why ?

Then so did I.

For the first time ever a sheep has never
Has actually looked up high,
Into the starry hea’ens,
studded glimmers on a wolfs black coat,
the wisened old hunter, the cunning wily,
a secret of the cut throats long known,
peers down on me, their stories, older than my oldest me.

For the wolves know, my leaders head is low,
That we move into the fields, there by the northern star,
And there will be a gathering,
A feast of lamb to behold,
For the collection of wolf covens of old,

Our pastures of peace lie to the east,
By my reckoning of the stars,
But my leader follows the reckoning of old,
A forgotten past,
A legacy that goes to our death every year
To feed the wolverines that costs us dear.

emptiness that is in my heart
still I don't know where to start,
because of the lies and hatred
I chose to be unloved and isolated

one day I became a freedom writer
then realized that people are liars,
that everyone left for a reason
but there is no explanation

until every broken pieces of my hea......
..
..
..


*A freedom writer that has a missing part of a poet and a missing heart..

riding     goes      a       pale     hors!3

                                       hea
                                -ven

wriggling splendidly orange on her withers
              muscle              nerves
  
crackle specifically shocking writhing

     and turn around to face the frilly sanctuary
of the frailing light whisper.  he y ou gritty
hoof string be impossibly galloping fleet.
    i argue with the dead methodically
           but                                             ;                         comes

  nothing
    o
        f                            that  tangled grin

beautiful beast,
i can't let you free;
I have to keep you
leashed to my brain.
it's not a good idea
  for you to be running  loose.
you would be perceived
    as dangerous.
"hide your children. hide!"

don't struggle
against the choke collar.
        you won't starve.
  you won't starve.
                    you won't starve.

everything i want to say gets l ost in the fray.
don't struggle
against the choke c ollar.
      because it's choking me.
stay clos e by, keep me company.
            there Is plenty of food out there.
                                              there is plenty of fo od.
        there is plenty of fooD somewhere.

i  t hi nk
  you're too  scary to catch your    quarry.
i have to ke ep you  here.                              leashed.
all  you want is out of reach  anyway, mutt.
                    in the trees, in    the clou ds
                                                      on the  map,  in my hea d
                                in bits of  pap er, in bites  of          met alloids.

don't  struggle                                        ­                    you keep me alive.
against th e              choke        co llar.
y ou   won't st arve.
                        just feed    on                    me.
  j      ust                   ­                                             feed on m
                                    e ju              st
fE          edo                        nme.   ­                   b                    ea
                      ­    uti f        u                l      b            ea                 ­       
    be                                                   ­                                               st.
              ­                  a
                                             ­     u
                                      ti

                ­    ful
be
                          a
                          ­                    s[hi]t.

*** tha **** outta’ hea

There’s no set way to elate
it’s all relative
we know that

(Thanks Einstein)

What makes you happy
now
make it a noun
persons places things

‘Being happy makes me happy’
is an acceptably weak answer
what makes my face glow?
have a reason
hold onto it’s grip

Your
     Guitar
              Sits
                    In
                       The  
                            Corner
                        ­                Of
                                           The
                                               Room,
                                                       It
                                                       Breaks
                                                        ­ ­       My
                                                        Hea­rt­
                                              Knowing
          ­­                             You'll
                             Never
                       Play
          Another
   Tune,
        I
       Miss
             Watching
                          And
                      ­         Listening  
                                          To
                                               You
                                                    Play,
                                                          The
                                                            Music
                                                    Taking
                                             Over
             ­                    Making
                             My
                     Body
              Sway,
           I'd
   Close
         My
            Eyes
                   Feel
                        The
                             Beat,
                                  You'd
                   ­ ­                     Strum
                                                 Your
                                                       Guitar
                                              Tapping
          ­­                              Your
                                  Feet,
                        ­ ­      I'd
                         Feel
                   The
        Rhythm
     In
My
   Mind
          Body
                And
                      Sou­­l,
                            Feeling
                                        So
                     ­                      Connected
                                                   Never
  ­                                            Wanting
                                           To
                   ­                   Let
                               That
                    Feeiling
               Go

m
my
my h
my he
my hea
my hear
my heart
my heart s
my heart st
my heart sti
my heart stil
my heart still
my heart still h
my heart still hu
my heart still hur
my heart still hurt
my heart still hurts

I don't really have friends.

I mean, I have people to talk to...
At work...
At school...
In my hea-...

Err, yeah; I'm typically alone. Sometimes it's the most relaxed I am...

...And other times, it's the worst experience you can have without literally freaking the f*ck out.
Have you ever felt so small around people who pretend they're so open and nice and caring?
Like, shut up! It's not easy having to watch people laugh together...

Overhearing something funny someone says, and then you quietly enter the conversation from afar. Pretending you're a part of their group.

Then go talk to them.

Right, I'll go and put my biggest smile on. I'll come and sit down at their table and make their day about me. That's the perfect thing to do, right?
.
.
.
Maybe you're just alone because you don't get out there.

Ha! Getting out there and expecting a change is like buying a lottery ticket and expecting to win because some psychic told you that you would.

Don't get confused. I am complaining...but why is it bad to do so?
Just because I don't tell myself a lie and pretend that that lie is true, does not make me wrong. If I am annoying for complaining about a real thing...then you're dumb.

Then what are you really trying to get from this?

I wonder what anyone is trying to get from anything.

Maybe what I want is to be loved...
Maybe I just want this pain to go away.
I might just want to get high.
I don't know anymore.
All I know Is that the world works like a game.
You can either have a guild, group, duo or play solo...

Some people don't have a choice...
I'm just happy that being alone doesn't mean that I am necessarily alone...

He told me he loved me.
I believed him.
But in the end
I dont know what to do.
He tells me everyday
That he loves me.
I feel pathetic.
I love him
More then anything
In the world.
Do i stay?
Or do i go?
He is  my world.
Hea the only one,
Who sees me for who i am
Im ganna stay.
Cuz hes the only,
One who really
Truly loves me.

In this hou  se I sit
on a chair t  hat has
yet to be m  oved
it takes tim  e to pack
up furnitur  e that
decorated a  home
I trace my f  ingers on
a groove in  the wood
grain of the  kitchen table
a mistake f  rom when
you cut app  les without
a cutting bo  ard for you
were runni  ng late to
work and d  idn't have
time to take   care but
it was okay   what was
one mark on   a wooden
table anyway  ? I was not
angry about i  t perhaps
I should've be  en since
you feel like I  don't feel
anything then  maybe
you wouldn't   be moving
out of my hea  rt without me

I fel(l)
in (.....)
t(o)o hard
I felt
hea(v)y
and my
heart
brok(e)