Decolor, obscuris, vilis, non ille repexam
  Cesariem regum, non candida virginis ornat
  Colla, nec insigni splendet per cingula morsu.
  Sed nova si nigri videas miracula saxi,
  Tunc superat pulchros cultus et quicquid Eois
  Indus litoribus rubra scrutatur in alga.
  CLAUDIAN.


I sat beside the glowing grate, fresh heaped
  With Newport coal, and as the flame grew bright
--The many-coloured flame--and played and leaped,
  I thought of rainbows and the northern light,
Moore's Lalla Rookh, the Treasury Report,
And other brilliant matters of the sort.

And last I thought of that fair isle which sent
  The mineral fuel; on a summer day
I saw it once, with heat and travel spent,
  And scratched by dwarf-oaks in the hollow way;
Now dragged through sand, now jolted over stone--
A rugged road through rugged Tiverton.

And hotter grew the air, and hollower grew
  The deep-worn path, and horror-struck, I thought,
Where will this dreary passage lead me to?
  This long dull road, so narrow, deep, and hot?
I looked to see it dive in earth outright;
I looked--but saw a far more welcome sight.

Like a soft mist upon the evening shore,
  At once a lovely isle before me lay,
Smooth and with tender verdure covered o'er,
  As if just risen from its calm inland bay;
Sloped each way gently to the grassy edge,
And the small waves that dallied with the sedge.

The barley was just reaped--its heavy sheaves
  Lay on the stubble field--the tall maize stood
Dark in its summer growth, and shook its leaves--
  And bright the sunlight played on the young wood--
For fifty years ago, the old men say,
The Briton hewed their ancient groves away.

I saw where fountains freshened the green land,
  And where the pleasant road, from door to door,
With rows of cherry-trees on either hand,
  Went wandering all that fertile region o'er--
Rogue's Island once--but when the rogues were dead,
Rhode Island was the name it took instead.

Beautiful island! then it only seemed
  A lovely stranger--it has grown a friend.
I gazed on its smooth slopes, but never dreamed
  How soon that bright magnificent isle would send
The treasures of its womb across the sea,
To warm a poet's room and boil his tea.

Dark anthracite! that reddenest on my hearth,
  Thou in those island mines didst slumber long;
But now thou art come forth to move the earth,
  And put to shame the men that mean thee wrong.
Thou shalt be coals of fire to those that hate thee,
And warm the shins of all that underrate thee.

Yea, they did wrong thee foully--they who mocked
  Thy honest face, and said thou wouldst not burn;
Of hewing thee to chimney-pieces talked,
  And grew profane--and swore, in bitter scorn,
That men might to thy inner caves retire,
And there, unsinged, abide the day of fire.

Yet is thy greatness nigh. I pause to state,
  That I too have seen greatness--even I--
Shook hands with Adams--stared at La Fayette,
  When, barehead, in the hot noon of July,
He would not let the umbrella be held o'er him,
For which three cheers burst from the mob before him.

And I have seen--not many months ago--
  An eastern Governor in chapeau bras
And military coat, a glorious show!
  Ride forth to visit the reviews, and ah!
How oft he smiled and bowed to Jonathan!
How many hands were shook and votes were won!

'Twas a great Governor--thou too shalt be
  Great in thy turn--and wide shall spread thy fame,
And swiftly; farthest Maine shall hear of thee,
  And cold New Brunswick gladden at thy name,
And, faintly through its sleets, the weeping isle
That sends the Boston folks their cod shall smile.

For thou shalt forge vast railways, and shalt heat
  The hissing rivers into steam, and drive
Huge masses from thy mines, on iron feet,
  Walking their steady way, as if alive,
Northward, till everlasting ice besets thee,
And south as far as the grim Spaniard lets thee.

Thou shalt make mighty engines swim the sea,
  Like its own monsters--boats that for a guinea
Will take a man to Havre--and shalt be
  The moving soul of many a spinning-jenny,
And ply thy shuttles, till a bard can wear
As good a suit of broadcloth as the mayor.

Then we will laugh at winter when we hear
  The grim old churl about our dwellings rave:
Thou, from that "ruler of the inverted year,"
  Shalt pluck the knotty sceptre Cowper gave,
And pull him from his sledge, and drag him in,
And melt the icicles from off his chin.

a prayer for every broken heart
a prayer for every sob that threatens to fill your throat as your eyes betray the flood rising in your chest
a prayer for every stranger with track marks in their wasted forearms and eyes hollower than their stomachs
a prayer for the weak, a prayer for the helpless, a prayer for the strong
a prayer for every time he hit her and a prayer for every time she didn’t move an inch
a prayer for the blood on the thighs of a girl who was torn by a drunken frat boy who never learned to hear “no"
a prayer for every sin of the heart
amen

The faucet leaked and
The pipes creaked
And there was nothing
In the drawers
To eat

We had our money
If only a little bit
But we both knew
There was something else needed
Like the preacher's prayer's
Or the cow in the field feeding

A horizon where the world seemed saved
A life without misery or humans crazed
Horns playing with midnight stars twinkling
The hands of time shivering in sudden epiphany

Each promise They told us would come true
Fell on a way side hollower than the deepest tide
I struggle to see as she holds her breath and says
"My heart it beats red, but my soul stands aside"

Solstice fortune dressed in golden angel's dust
A prayer for the father as the forgotten other
Lays wrapped in his thin white blanket knowing
That all he hath searched for has already been sought

Can peace be brought to this place?
Or have we plagued these lands with false
Heroes and entered a paradise lost?
Foreseeing destruction the roads bend to a cross

Imprisoned by our own doing
I seek the key that my hand has hid
I scream as it catches a jagged edge
Life sometimes is not so easy to forgive

I ask no more what I can do with this time
There is only the choice of action in dear finale'
Come with me or I must leave you behind
Stay where your heart tells you, my sister divine

Crossroads ahead of us
The past no longer in plain-view
Where the rhythm rings
Is where I'll be able to live with you

To hold you close my dear
Far after the fog lifts
The heart never aiming to drift
And the raw sunlight falling near
To a home we know not yet
A hope and a fear we both keep
From one another in utter secret

Sometimes these emotions are too much to handle
A sweet ocean's breeze can take out the most secure candle
But that still does not mean that you shouldn't trust me
Or that you shouldn't push yourself or let me breathe
We are one, but we are not, do not let yourself be forgot

So let's throw this wheel from the back
Of the semi-truck, escaping the polices
The rules & regulations of fixed lifestyles
I have made my way to the border lands
Each answer a piece of sun-burnt sand

To be sad in times of picturesque joy
Is merely a sign of the times
Melancholia rests underneath the pillow,
Between the sheets, with every hand I shake to meet
A naked truth flashes itself as I avert my eyes
Embarrassed to address my own body tantalized

So many tricks
Numbers of ways
A flick of the wrist
A glance of the eye
Each nod a whisper
In blue declared disguise

These people
Were all children once
Captured and ensnared
In the unforgiving
Nine to five
Where every hand raised
Is a life threatened
If they so choose to rise

And so the tide crashes as the God's of dog's
Barks into the cast iron white moon of myth
Death's scythe snickering as lover's quarrel
In vicious bickering, condemning one another
Of what the other can and cannot give

Both to stubborn to present the gift
They one day would wish to live

I would value you
I know you must have hard that a lot
and have grown accustomed
to it not being true

I know that trust is like a spotter
at the bottom of a ladder
and that you've been climbing Everest
and not the wall to a roof
so the comparison isn't apt
No I don't know anything you
and so my words ring hollower
than an Oak tree on a dry summers day

I would value you
not as price on a tag
but as a bird on a nest
because your presence makes being here
worthwhile
and when you're keen to fly away
please heed my plea that's true
I Promise I would value you

Surrounded by the multitudes,
Yet feel alone...
Engaged in trite narratives,
The voices merely drone....
This unquenchable emptiness,
I drown with intoxication...
Only to wake from my stupor hollower than before,
Choking on hate and distain...
Desire and ambition are smothered by pain,
As the grip tightens on the throat of my soul,
The pit in my gut grows and grows taking it's toll...
Every moment slipping deeper into the abyss,
Until nothingness is an addiction I just can't resist....
Go on existing until my last breath,
Living without life, is worse than death

When I was young I use to slap myself when my chubby fingers pressed one piano key too low

I would dig fingernails into my arm after each missed catch or askew throw

Because everyone cried at being loved by God I would think of my dead cat to squeeze out a few tears, so the fact that I didn’t have a God wouldn’t show

I wasn’t a sick kid
I was just a tree
that didn’t know how to lose its leaves

I couldn’t seem to slap or dig the mistakes out
so I dug out happiness from my skin

Stretched it out thin like many strings on a violin
and attached it to my shirt with a couple of safety pins

Letting people try to strum and make some music
but the tune of my strings didn’t ring smooth and therapeutic
and they ended up only giving me bruises

And even though the little girl has grown
she just continues to hold dead leaves
of mistakes she can’t seem to let go

Nothing new can grow
just more lines on the bark of her skin
years have, and will pass like this
and she will continue to become hollower within

I feel the world well up in my chest
and the words swell in my throat
and I'm only hoping for the best
amidst the storm on this **** boat
as I throw up emptiness into the ocean
like dry heaving naught but sand
my will is gone and neck is open
I'm giving up on finding land
Alas, my wandering weary traveler
fall not to hopeless woe
for this humble hollower orator
won't let you die alone.

the gas station on the corner
stands bright in the night,
a silent confessional for a pack of regret.
as if it'll get me through one more
night of blue.

tides crash in like clockwork,
dripping seconds down my cheekbones,
and i'm really just trying to find someone who isn't washed up.
no one can tell me what to do.

and i tried to tell you what i meant,
of all the time left unspent.
your eyes rolled into the back of your skull; nothing's hollower than the truth.
one more night of empty-headed blues.

i crater low while the moon sits high,
but the sun will have to breathe.
i know it'll come around,
i just can't live to see;
bear to be a victim of a clockwork tease.

I cam back from a vacation to the beach to find my hometown slightly different, it was as though we had entered a new dimension and tiny things were subject to change in my 5 day absence; such as the color of a sign or someones accent.
Most of all Id say my home makes me feel as though im not home, this place feels like a dream, like im stuck in the matrix or something. Nothing about the way this place makes me feel makes me want to stay, and nothing about it feels natural or right. It brings a rock to the bottom my stomach turning over the assumed reality I supposedly exist in. Every person seems hollower here, like they are not pilots of their own human vehicles, but in fact they are occupants of their human shell, with varying levels of control.
There is no person here that could make me stay at this point. I can only explain it like this, no matter what if the environment is wrong, it outweighs everything else in terms of efffecting your mood. for example, you couldnt have a climactic battle scene be fought in a boutique, it would be heard to look past the soldiers hiding behind dresses no? nobody here can really outshine this thought that this is not my destination. Im set on my course and its not changeable, the destination is happiness and nobody else is required for the voyage, company would be cool, but jump if you dont like how the boat rocks.

Once upon a time there was a girl no one knew
At centerstage she were guise no one could breakthrough

She smiled, she laughed, she was an open book to all
At least as far as they had saw

And with that she was happy, with that she was complete
No Other feeling could compete

Yet as happy even though she was as happy as could be
she saw someone who always seemed more happy than she

A light brighter than the sun
A smile that never seems to come undone
By their brilliant light she was blinded
And all that once she was reminded

Ah, yes the more their happiness came across
The hollower her happiness seemed....she was at a loss.

Then all at once she had an idea of what to do
They couldn't be happy all the time that she knew
A desire to give them happiness formed and grew

Their loneliness always shown
Oh! She could find him a queen for his throne
Then he be happy that she knew!
But could be her? Oh no that would never do.

They were a light shined like sun
She was no Icarus, she wouldn't even try
Her love was quiet
she was perfectly fine with opportunity slipping by

For as long as they were happy she knew
She would smile too

The farther I look in the sky,
Or the deeper I dwell inside 'I'
The darker, the hollower, the scarier it gets
With no light at the other end
Harder the route of this bare soul gets
All I wanted was to see the truth
But the darkness made it hard to find
I know I had lost it a long ago
But it never crossed my eyes
For the fight is now to escape the darkness
And more than truth now I seek happiness
the lies now are okay to be fed upon
If the lie is that there is light somewhere within me

i think of you when

i see clouds are hiding the sun
in a sky that was so like that was mine

i see thunders and flashes are flying
and burning above and beneath of every and everything

i sing a tune that lays my fate
words are the magic  that tells how you smell and taste

i see a tree of life here upon which were tied
,thoth ****** my blood and push them brown sugars
my ears are hollower than black holes
it sings with the  holiest hymns

no one ever told me about you
I never hoped theres really someone
something like you
i dont know to travel thy roads so high
my sight was grounded with limitations to fly
your light is what i search now
i see it but im sure ill find a way through
to the suns where the gods once lived
where i believe im traveling only


into one sight my thoughts are now
@lined with the one that awaits but nowhere
no one known has ever seen those skies
its not to fear if you know there's light

there once lived the here them children of fire
the played with sun and moon as theyre their lover
they knew healing and flying not bound by laws that we knew since we saw the apple fall
its so wrathful a things such
them children wandering without a home
waiting for mankind to breed them  warm and fresh
lord i want  them fire riding and piercing through
our rusted skins of ego and rotten flesh
in them we ought to live like  we were
meant to be,:::the wind
  that blows all across
one two and three and all.

there’s so many of them it’s almost impossible
to tell who’s living and who isn’t because of all the
sweat and stench of fear and deodorant
that masks their heavy breathing and
heavier hearts - burdens that they carry around
as if they were important. if only they knew that
wounds heal and scars fade, maybe, just maybe
they would already be flying

but of course you can see the halos and the horns
and the tails and the wings that flicker like
their souls in their hollow chests, only the slightest hint of their singular intention - to try to fly
but it’s the halos and horns and tails and wings that truly prevent them from flying

they are jealous of the birds that walk above and wonder how they fly - their hollow bones and hollower hearts uplift them to the black skies and
blacker stars. but these people full of blood and
bones and lifelessness are like stagnant stones
infested with dying moss, littering the ground like
ugly splotches on an ugly painting

only some know the way to hover and float above
everyone, instead of taking in they give out,
give out death and anger and hate and frustration,
let it flow like a river, washing down off away
the pain, like a stone caught in the gentle floods of
rage, leaving a trail of love and loss in the depths

these are the people who will rise up and rise
higher than anyone ever because they
know how to let go let off let be and
who don’t need wings to fly because they
know that memories are boulders and grudges are
killers and only when they give their whole
heart and soul then do they take off and



fall, fall when they realise they had asked for
too much, way too much, and realise that flying
has its own burdens, a paradise in hell, a curse
with the shading of a blessing, floating in the air
for all who reach out for to, and realise in the end:

walking was always enough.

I grin and smile

   But on the inside I feel empty
  
     I gaze up at him shyly acting as naive and love infested as
       possible

   But deep down I feel nothing and never will

    You don't love me we both know so so why do we pretend

     This wall I have put around myself full of colors and happy
        emotion is slowly cracking and the poison on the inside seeps
          through

      They noticed

       My laughter got hollower


        Every time I smile I don't turn heads because it's always a sad
        one

         My 2 worlds are colliding

         And eventually they’ll all leave

          The false love and fake friendship was not real to begin with I knew that of course

            But it gave me a happy illusion

             The illusion I wasn't alone

               So when it finally all ends…

                And I give in and end it all

                   All they’ll have is false remorse
                       Saying

                           “Poor girl”

                              “Too young”

                                I wont kid myself I’ll end my life over my
                                     sadness of not being accepted while they go
                                         on with life
                                      
                         ­                               ...
                              ­                   After it's all over though


                                                   Fake love

                                                      Fake friends

                                                        ­  Fake self

                                                           ­  And in a matter of days

                                                           ­        Hmm? Anissa who?

                                                           ­                I'm tired of the

                                                            ­                       FAKE

                                                           ­                           But my cries will
                                                                ­                        be carried off by
                                                                ­                               the wind-

I was born with a reservoir of love
Filled to the brim in my heart
Each day it grew
And so did it’s capacity for more love
The unspoken rule of this reservoir was
That every time I poured some love out
It would be poured back in
And so the reservoir could continue to exist
But it stopped growing
I was convinced that it was full enough
That it was large enough to last me awhile
Or maybe I was convinced
That someone would pour some love back in
I continued to pour and pour and pour
I poured some here
I poured some there
The reservoir had begun to get empty
It got lighter and hollower
I could hear the echoes of the spaces
The love once occupied
I don’t know at what point it got completely empty
I don’t know at what point I lost the love
But I can’t suppress the anger i feel
For the ones who took
And took
And took
And never poured back in
Leaving me hollow
Without the ability to love again

*******
Myself
Dis-si-pating
The ghosts inside the hearth and the house
Screaming out
Cries for help
Reaching out
Blame
Another time for calling names
They're rushing in
And the cockroaches doth profane
This place inside this eden of my own
Award the akutagawa prize to another oppenheim'
I don't know, I've lost my mind
Death have I become? for seeking glum inside this prize
I've lost time and leads to nothingness to hide in-kind some little ****
And puddles forming most of this there is no way to disguise how
much I've found chasing dreams in the guise of a clown
Dont look for me where I can't can't be found
I'm setting out in empty clouds
And between thighs of lovers cave secrets cave I keep in
and I'm caving in the things I never said, that hollow side of the bed
That you call your own, you call uh-oh, you callous scone
with blueberry edges and
razorblade dough
I'm losing oh no
I'm losing oh no
No no
No more time for butterflies
and no more time for shallow lies
You love me not fist *****
and hollower than this wrist cuffs
Taste me in everything he ever
did to you
But to *****
My head back into the bulb socket in the pocket of a man who never knew where he was going nor began and the pain inside his head nothing less than every scratch you left
Bleedin' through his corneas, your ****** and the horniness
Seldom does a pin get pushed quite so deep
Beneath the birds and extinct bees
But watch and you'll see
The scratches on the walls

Gone ******* tumbling over torpid waters
Turning inside out and bottomless
You float for a second before sinking
Into the opposite of weightlessness
It's imperative that we digress
And witness feathers in a headband
We are the lead singers of tomorrow’s epiphanies
We are the band and the audience members simultaneously
Everything is blessed and made to wander equally
We are tiny strings attached to the fragilest parts
Of every person’s heartbeat
We are the insurmountable struggles that inspire your art
We are the feelings you embody in the night’s soft atrophy
We are the appetites we repress
When there’s no one left to buy you dinner
We seek new meanings in beauty
And in the mind of each new lover we take
Our own image remains engraved photographically
Steadfast and permanent we laugh at our innocence
On the road to invisibility we take the first exit we can find
Laughing is sublime only as often as you can bear to really die
We shine like silhouettes behind the curtains of our memories
We are embracing magic in our uncertainty and living
Amidst and between, boundaries of ancient diseases and new discoveries
The pathway of apologies is not a road you can navigate intuitively
We are obviously hollower than a pair of five gallon drums
For when the rain comes we take the opportunity
To fill our towers, tanks and reservoirs; as if beauty was just a bargain
That we made when there was no one left to argue with

I felt the sun rise
See it beyond the horizon
Speak to me of life
Basking in the sunshine of my tries
Hollower than the Lord's light
Hallowed be thy name
Rings inside
I scream my name
In vain
Heart is as the hand of God stays
I hope that my song plays
In the meaning of some distant way
Of travelling men

On the eve of twilight, all was silent
As my soul paced, so did its expressive face
I promised to be simply present
As the cloudy skies brought forth pink and hues of pensive

With the river of heights untouched, hollower than life
Yet larger than it, for it is lonesome in its stride
Some words often follow a solitary remark
I pray you appreciate the docile look the heavens bring

As its beauty shines, and its pallor looks brighter
Emanating with a summer stream, as well as a young branch
If my life were empty, and love were made of cloudy chance
I would look into twilight’s haze as I fulfill my life
That is when I am reminded of our time
And how brief it is to be truly alive like a sky lit up in twilight