The voice I hear is ruminating in my head,
that treacherous depart was wounded instead of behead.
How I long for this pain to leave akin the December sky,
this imminent glory was only dreamed about in disguise.

How persuasive the universe was to the story,
it did not project the upcoming fury.
Of a devious bequeath that upheld the tantrum,
the sky soared with anger until its utter collapse.

When a drop of water fell from the engorging sky;
it dropped thousands of miles beneath,
until it splattered like a human who couldn’t breathe.
This anger spread like a wildfire, infecting all those longed desires.

The heart of which pumped no more blood,
Became equivalent to a plant breathing through a frozen sun.
Nature believed there were no further storms,
until the quarrel beneath was profoundly explored.

Through the bodies sensation one could not ignore,
made the heartache of this man’s soul.

Oh why are humans so weak.
Must the sun anger the kindness soul,
For I had only hoped for evermore.
Was I a victim who loved no more?
Or an open heart waiting to explore?

This journey could not be real,
however, it became nurturing to one’s appeal.
The ignorance disguised as love evidently appeared,
as the devil danced around as one had feared.

Ambiguous to the commonality of faith,
that created an ambivalence that aroused distaste.
The traitor became her experience and ego her age,
I was in love with a spiritual woman of a certain year of age.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente

I've been fighting for so long
I have shattered views and broken bones
Those closest to me
Hurt me the most, Burned me to the core

I smile, though I feel like dying
I'm frozen to the bones, still I keep on going
Shackled by my demons and fears
I hurt myself more than anyone could ever dream

You are the light to the dark side of me
The gates of Heaven could open with a single kiss
These emotions play with me dangerously
I would kneel at your feet, if it meant you'd love me

Even when the darkness subsides, shadows still remain
It's hard to believe you're not a phantasm...fleeting, then gone
The doubt coils around me, choking me
Its sick cadence infecting me, taunting me

Intimidation consuming me into thoughts of you
wanting the intimacy
searching for your face in my mind
in the crowds of people who don’t matter
I’m tired of these cold nights with scratchy sheets
there’s mold on the wall and a toxic gas seeping through my pores
infecting my heart and mind
I don’t want to forget your face
just scratch the thought of calling you
creating different scenarios of what could have been
I cant stop wishing you were here
that I never met you
There’s a note on the door
it doesn’t say much
keep out 
go away
don’t know
just walk away
****** knuckles in my face
I know its mine from the taste
I close my eyes and plug my ears
try to block it out with my tears
the ground is cold
my body aches
wincing as my bone breaks
screaming
searching
seeing
sighing
superstitions become reality as my face smashes through the mirror
just another seven years of bad luck I don’t need.

Ideas not people
rule the world,
competing for supremacy,
*******.

Conflicting, waring
to gain the
upper hand,
control.

Virus like
as it spreads
through the population
Infecting all that come
in contact.

Ideas are insidious things,
once infected nearly impossible
to ignore.

Populations are
controlled by ideas.
Religious ideas, political ideas,
run gunshot
over millions,
pitting whole
populations
against one another.

The relative nature
of ideas is dependent
on the level of infection.

Where do ideas come from?
Who or what injections
them into
our releam.

Ideas make us
do things,
controls us.

Free will just an
illusion.
Ideas make
us behave as
they will.

Can there be
a unifying
idea that shows us the
way?
Would that just be
universal control?

Are our brains complex
enough
to see the
unifying
Idea when it
finally arrives?

Memes can lead us
into the future,
or undo it all.

Confidence is key
In oh so many ways
Much more than with
The things you do.

Walk tall, stand still,
Be open and direct.
Show them all
That you are completely
Unafraid.

Don’t fidget, look around or gabble on.
Don’t show your anxious self.
Speak slowly, with pause
And show you are assured and calm.

For confidence is like a virus,
Spreading out throughout the room,
Infecting all
With that assertion
That You
Are Number One.

If only I myself was brought up this way,
Who knows what I’d have done?
But better late than never,
As they say.
Let’s start,
By being tall,
And cutting out
That slouch.

But remember,
Never compare:
Treat everyone as equal,
Never be arrogant:
Be gently assertive.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\3\2018.

Hate flows,
free through her blood.
Infecting every *****.

First,
with her heart,
then her brain.

A deranged, heartless *****,
with all the power.

Succubi.
Queen of Bloodshed.
Harlot of Satan.

Swing dancing murderers
& ball-room assassins.
Seek her out, on
the dance floor.
To, get a chance to Swing Dance with Lucy, herself.

Good men will fall down to evil.
Slowly dancing and stabbing  
pretty, young girls.
Under the noses of their wives.

To save their,
lost souls
from the belly of the beast.

Covered in their blood, sweat & glitter,
the Party Princesses are slain
by the Princes of Poverty.
Cause they weren't getting pity ******.

Young as I was
with driven energy,
I took the fun
with my sensuality.

I was attracted
to both genders,
all were carefree
indulging fantasies.

And we engaged
and converged,
*** for free
with anybody.

And when done
in the acrobatics,
exhausted and bared
after the shared lust.

The acts continue
with many more,
at several occasions
without precaution.

The body once sturdy
has started to melt,
like a candle shining bright
now has dying flickering light.

The immune system
infected with viral ***,
has succumbed to mortality
as lymphocytes posted fatality.

Unknowingly or intentionally
same being shared physically,
the virus to another innocent
infecting through love's scent.

And so the viral multiplies
into many men and women,
whose lives marred by ***
and soon suffer the AIDS.

Despite, many stand strong
to set as epitome of courage,
tell their stories to let known
that such curse must DIE.

Why the sparks?
Why do the sparks soon fly?
as time goes on by
Why do the sparks soon fly?
as love passes away

Only yesterday were we entranced in flames
Hot like chemistry, couldn't get off each other
then time ran and we parted
soon forgetting how our love started

Why do the sparks soon fly?
as the magical fluids run dry
You know I and I know you but I know not why

Only a moment ago were we painting beautiful pictures
we made wet art, we were like kids again
we wouldn't stop playing even when the winds...
even when the winds withered weather with wayward waves,
  we were whirling away into a dimension unearthly
and we saw parks in distant times
Islands in the sky and spaceships crossing by
angels of love infecting humans with affection,
music from long bows and seconds weighed in wide bowls
the arrows and spears, how they would signal pain and tears
You and I once were but no more as the sparks disappear.

the taste of nicotine, infecting the young
the deep breath in, corroding my lungs
the squelch of a flame beneath my boot
the extinguished warmth between me and you.

inhale quick, forget as i try
leaving room for sickness to grow

blaming the numbness on the high
i still feel nothing when i'm low.

In order to make a dollar and to get ahead:
- they wish to see us all deceased,
- (Yes!) they wish to see us all dead,
- or crippled, at least, with man-made disease.
The last thing they wish to see is for us to be free;
- so - they'll **** us in any way possible:
- infecting your family, thee, me, and we
- in ways so, very, cruel and methodical.
The truth is: we are no longer human beings;
- we are, simply, their livestock- or product.
I assure you that you and/or your siblings
- will feel their, so, inhumane misconduct;
- for - it is t'wards each, and every, one of us.
They'll do anything in their power to **** us all.
Please, please, don't - in thee elites put your trust
- because- in their lives: we are pawns, so small.
We must, all, break away from their society,
- we must build up our forts up in the trees,
- if any o' us have a hope of being free
- or, ever in our lives, seeing liberty!
For - all our rifles: they will come to seize,
- tis' a worried attempt to take our arms,
- ensuring they're the only ones who can cause harm.

Their handshakes
leak a liquid lie.
An inception,
meant to cause
a deception
that they
"really"
care
about you.
The ******* is
infectious
and is
infecting
the world with
false hopes
and promised
paved paths
to future let downs.
Paid for by the people.
Made apparently for the people.
Yet the people can't even participate,
or have a chance to appreicate any
of the fruits they harvested
on a larger scale.
Because society has a caste system
and no matter how
civilized,
we claim to be.

its a blue Monday
after Super Sunday
Americas 45th funday
yesterdays spectacle

the dip is done
the broken bones
of buffalo wings
fill giant glad bags

the ridged ripples
of broken Doritos
scattered on the floor
wait for a vacuums hum

dead soldiers rattle
a melodious cascade
the aroma of flat Bud
plunge into recycle bins

ribbed Trojans
dripping bagged ****
rim plastic trash cans
confirm an ****'s frenzy

the game forgotten
commercial reveries remain
seared into the briney mush
of compliant olfactories

collective hallucinations
successfully branded
a new and improved
global consciousness

Madmen Shamans
ebulliently channel
transactional zeitgeists
from the ripped boxes of
Best Buy plasma screens

Monday morning
water cool scuttlebutt
the planet is buzzing about...

Google's cool slap
of IPod clad automatons
the vanquishers of IBM's evil empire
Apple's brave new world is next
("meet the new boss,
same as the old boss?")

we all dug
rolling with Eminem
through the glitzy
streets of Motown

How cool is 8 Mile?
The hoods lookin good
angelic chorus lifts spirits
Swing Low Sweet Chrysler

The artistic types
faun over
the graphic beauty
illustrious aestheticism

moving story line
the epic journey
of the worlds
greatest brand

heroic product marketing pros
rival Jason and the Argonauts
sojourning trans-formative odysseys
of clever packaging and fat tail shelf life

holding precious real estate
of living imaginations
infecting hearts and minds
of future generations

realizing
everything
ends better
with coke

The State Farm Pre-Game
Jimmy Johnson's new coiff
jawed away with his old boss
rattlesnake booted Jerry Jones

A poignant embrace captured in
living color on grand jumbo trons
lording over a cavernous palace
a new stadium for Homeboys

Jimmy J asks Jerry J
"Why you overpaid
for The Boys New
Crib?"

"A billion 4,
a palace for the masses".
Jerry breaks some news
with an impish wink.
"No expense is spared
for the peeps."

"I always make out,
get a good return. I
make a profit. Ain't
America great."

This year Super Bowl
went Hollywood
and installed
a long red carpet.

Mike Strahan, collared
Harrison Ford.
Bagging his greatest sack
on a dazzling red rug.

"How many Super Bowls
is this for you?"
Strahan whistles
through his gaped teeth.

The aging Indiana Jones
came to promote his new flick,
"Cowboys and Aliens"
(I'm told an early Cannes
favorite. And it should be. Spoiler alert,
the movie is a moving story of an American tragedy.
Romo blows another one
throwing an interception in overtime.
The Aliens return it 95 yards for a touchdown.
Boy's lose again. America's Team vanquished by bubble headed Martians.
All of Texas weeps.)

Indy
coolly quips an answer
whipping with sarcasm,
"after today, one."
yuck yuck
lol

Strahan continues
to stalk Ford like a
scrambling quarterback,
"where will you be sitting?"

Ford shrugs
"dunno,
somewhere
up-there,
I guess",
he points to
the lofty
luxury boxes.
Royalty sits
next to God
in Jerry Jones
house of the
people.

Ford dons a green scarf.
He's down with the Pack.
Another sunshine *****
in the seat.

Michael Douglas and Zeta Jones
arrive in time to hear
Keith Urban sing
"Who Wouldn't Want to be Me?"

"He's alive
He's free
Who wouldn't
want to be me?"

Indeed who?

The parade
of heroes
continue.

The walking,talking
little S Corp, LLC's
dance their way
into the stadium
on resplendent
cushions of red.

Terrific brands
all earnestly
questing to
urgently
deliver
messages
to promote
themselves
and plug
shameful
products.

A Black Eye Peas
teaser
blinks onto
my giant
flat screen.

Will I Am
a black man
in a blacker mask
marches down the street
zapping people
with a ray gun.
(fascist culture is so cool, a
little light on liberation,
but **** does he look bad as all get out
in that leather rumble don't **** with me
outfit)

Jamie Foxx on the royal carpet leaks
that he yodeled three tunes
at a pregame party for Jerry's Kids;
T Boone and the Big W among them.

Quick cut
to Jamie's
new movie
Rio.
(I wonder if its
about Mexicano's
crossing the river?)

Wealth
Power
the perfect
image of ourselves
take a pill

I am Limitless
a new movie?
I've seen this one before.
I think I'm watching it now.

Just Go With It
Adam *******,
Jennifer Aniston
Americas sweetheart
teamed with Americas
kosher jokester.

He looks hot
in his droopy
pretend
don't give a ****
orange sweatshirt
and acid washed jeans.

Jennifer's ****, legs
what can you say
about America's sweetheart?
I think Brad Pitt
made a big mistake.

Bill O
is next.
Posturing,
arm wrestles
with the Prez,
shadow boxes
with the Big O.

"Muslim Brotherhoods
Rendition
Mubarack goes off the reservation
knows where the bodies are buried"
***!
***!

(Do we really need a dose of Fox Fear?
Is there no escape from the pernicious harangue?
Don't they know its Super Bowl Sunday?)

Bill O's drive by continues,
"Obamacare,
why do Americans hate you?"
Great journalism by this Fox ****.

Bill O is
haughty,
arrogant,
disrespectful
a despicable bully
and a self serving blow hard.

(My bladder is busting.
Its a great time to take a ****.)

We escape to
the freshness
of Owen Wilson's
smiling face,
playing two hand touch.

His bent nose
shining
he trots about
Jerry's field
carefree as a child.
(Is this a pitch, pass and punt
contest for A Listers?)

Other stars
join the light fun;
goose cheerleaders
give the cabana boys
hand-jobs
and themselves
a well earned blow-job.

Its an **** of photo ops
product placement
a sizzling collection
of dancing brands
prancing on the gridiron
of the New Cowboy field.

Ashton Kutcher
peeks over the shoulder
of a tweeting W.
I'm impressed
W knew
how to use
his thumbs.

Mrs. W's
permanent smile
was clearly visible
from the stadiums
cheapest seats.

Condie sat
way to the right
quietly stewing
lamenting
lost opportunities
of a gig as NFL
Commissioner.

On the stadiums floor
the frenetic dancing
of the
bumping
brands
fast
approaches
ecstatic elation.

Hollywood's version of
Whirling Dervishes; is
immediately stilled
as the solemn portion
of the program
commences.

The Declaration of Independence
is read by a bright galaxy of stars
accompanying armed service personnel
and other diligent American's.

"We hold these truths
to be self evident"

"United colonies
levee war,
dissolve bounds,
our day of allegiance
lives, fortunes and sacred honor
freedom is common sense,
free, equal, united"

CEO's
imprisoned
in Jerry's
luxury boxes
overcome
with
emotion
pound fists
on the glass
smearing
cocktail sauce
on the windows
of the suites.

Illegal
Chicano's
bravely
step forward
with rolls
of Bravo
and Windex
to wipe
it clean.

The focal point
of festivities
seismically
shifts like a
tectonic plate
almost as large
as Jerry's Stadium.

The stampede
of cheers
thunder like
canon shots,
the patriotic
ramparts of
militant
free market
capitalism
supplants the
shallow frivolity
of consumer slavery.

We are
compelled
to kneel
to celebrate a
Eucharist of
nationalism.

My partner explodes,
"Can't watch a football game
and view it for what it is,
a ******* football game."

The Fox
broadcasters
dedicate
this segment
of the show
to our military.

I squirm in my seat.
Sorry,
but the declaration is about
free people in free societies
not militarism.

Next up
dis old cowboy
Sam Elliot.
He knows
how to speak
the language
of real football fans.
Finally, a man of the people.

Sam introduced the cities.
He starts with Pittsburgh.

"Built on steel
a place where
terrible is good
these are the
enduring qualities
of this great American City."

The Steelers
make a timely entrance
onto the floor of the stadium,
as millionaires erupt
shaking their terrible towels.

Sam's
fuax
folkism
for
Fox Sports
continued.

"Green Bay is Title Town
the people never quit.
Crafty veterans are winners
exhorting all to greatness"

Images
of Lombardi's
toothy grin
fills my 72 inch screen.
A visitation by
America's Saint,
the sanctifier
of all competition
anoints the proceeding,
the quest to claim
the trophy named
for the games
very own
Archangel
of the
Gridiron.

The extended gig of
Lombardi's ghost
has haunted America
for over half a century;
has reportedly been seen
stalking the stage
on Broadway.

The anointed
Packers sprint
onto the field and
millionaire cheese heads
taking big bites out of life
erupt in cheers.

My hi def wide screen
made by Sharp reports
Battle of Los Angeles
opens 3/11/11.
The Chicago Code
premiers on Fox
sometime in March.

Walter Payton
Man of The Year Award
is presented
to an NFL Player
watching the game
with the troops
in Iraq.

The millionaires
don't cheer,
but the Fox announcers
are verklempt
overcome with patriotism.

Michelle Lee,
star
of Fox'***** show
Glee,
poses in front of a
sanitized choir
in blue uniforms to sing
America the Beautiful.

The beautiful song
is but an opening act
for the musical centerpiece
Star Spangled Banner.

The cameras cut
to a smiling W.
He can't get into Switzerland
but ******, he won't be turned out
of JJ's OK Corral.

Christina Aguilera
takes center stage.
She mounts
the silver football
crowning the
Holy Logo of the NFL
to sing the hallowed
Star Spangled Banner.

She fumbles her lines!
She forgot the rockets red glare!
The Steelers are crying.
The Packers are angry.
Ice melts from the stadiums roof.
The foundations of Jerry Jones
new stadium shakes.

A fly over of 4 fighters in formation
appears to be unaffected by the flub.
The planes do not crash.
They stay in formation.

The pilots spare Christina
a strafing and drone strike.
The republic remains
secure for now.

An unfamiliar announcer
addresses TV land.
He offers an apology to the fans
who cannot be seated.

The fire marshals
have revoked
Jerry's seating plan.
Greed got the better
of this man of the people.
Cowboy Stadium
is overbooked!

What is happening?
Is this America?
An ATT commercial
arrives just in time.

ATT has a new plan for America.
They encourage us to live social
with the new ATT AG.
Free market solutions
always work best.

Michael Douglas
reads another
patriotic exhortation.

"United we,
see the journey
of Acme Packers
as our journey."

"We see the resolve
of US Steel
as our resolve.
Big dreams
believe the best
journeys are
celebrated together."
(I'm down with that.
Whats good for Jerry Jones
is still good for me.
Right On! Check this stadium.
Power to the people!
It may not apply to the people who
will not be seated but tough nuggies.
This is America ******. Everybody
can't be seated at the table.
Even if they paid for their seat.
This ain't Red China.)

Neon Dion and other inductees
into the Football Hall of Fame
tosses the coin.
Steelers' call tails.
Heads it is.

At half time
The Black Eyed Peas
descend from
an upper Valhalla.

Still attired in
black fascist threads
The Righteous Peas
start wailing as
white metallic minions
dressed as
Imperial Storm Troopers
gallop to surround
their idols.

Precise formations
goose steppin bops
choreographic steps
the visceral *****
perfect counter-point
to swabbles of wiggling Peas.

Slash,
Guns and Roses
guitar hero
gunslinger
strode on stage
winging
this gal of mine
in choreographed
unison with
the leggy
Fergie.

Pumping it louder
the spectacle incites
the dancing
Imperial minions
quick steppin
and fetchin it
as Usher descends
in white unison
to leap and dance
over nasty
black peas.

The Gods
are descending
upon us.
Their words
have become
flesh.

The BEP's bleat
"kids are dying
wheres the love?"
Art does mirror life.

The neon hearts
of cheap
glow sticks
light up
the time
of our lives.

We are
cubed box heads
happily dancing along
the 50 yard line
answering China's
resounding drum
of frantic proletarians
bashing away
neocolonial disgrace
during the opening
ceremony of the worlds
greatest Olympian
display of
the pounding will
of an emerging nation
arriving on the world stage
with urgent insistence.

In America
we party on
every night
swiping
revoked
credit cards
for express lane
exits at the
local Walmart.

We are proud
highly personal
bar codes!

We refuse to be
marked down and flung
into discount bins at a
Tupelo Dollar Store.

Our light of life
flashes across screens
directing the trading pits
at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Each Super Bowl Sunday
souper bowl beggars
collect canned soup
for hungry Americans
at the local Shop and Drop

begging for larmen
boxes of Kraft
freeze dried noodles
and cans of Progresso
the feast of kings

A triumph
of the
Will I Am
BOOM BOOM
Says
Will I Am

I finish my bag of
Cool Ranch Doritos
and lick my partners
fingers clean.

Music Selection
Steve Miller,
Livin in the USA


2/7/11
Oakland
jbm
(WIP)

Maybe we’re all better off dead,
I ponder, as the thoughts replay
again and again throughout my head.

And when your ponderings can’t focus
long enough to match with the last,
you have to wonder if perhaps
you’re already completely ******.

****** of thought,
****** of fresh ideas,
****** of it all.

So **** it all.

— the motto of a thousand deluded slugs,
bugs lathered in slime; thoroughly spattered
with imbalanced chemicals of an imagined time,
                                    
                      ­             and I couldn’t agree more.

Head pounding
at the insensible drum roll
of the closing in
overwhelming mass
of dull hysterics;
the ever present drone …
                      I can hear it …
                                 I can’t bear it …

destroying me from the inside out
                     until I
            implode
                                      a sickness
infecting all pure stars reflecting
across a lake
contaminated
by a thick oil
lucidly pleasing the spoiled,

and      I’m         thrown
          right in the
              center
sinking
            at
                a­ slow
                          melancholic pace,

like quicksand you’ll never understand,
a liquid so intolerably bland,
I’ll be relieved when my lungs finally
                                                         ­    collapse
to this long awaited lapse
of closure.

Do not try to grab my hand.
I wouldn’t even know what to do
with dry land if I had it.
Let me dissolve with the fallen;
I’m already deeper in
than I am out, anyway.

My interest has long since faded.
Can’t relocate purpose for the Word,
for I am ever bored, and you can feel
rest assured there is nothing more.

No ingenious plan for escape.
No story-arch that hasn’t already been repeated.
No conclusion that I can’t predict.
No two-faced intentions that won’t contradict
all the reasons I used to enjoy those creative seasons,

and I can feel the decomposing treason
chilling my heart to its core,
like a rancid breeze stirred just for me.

Left with no purpose, no drive;
on the inside, I’m not even alive.

When I was little
I never understood the phrase
"laughter is the best medicine"
I never got how laughing could make someone healthier
but that was all before you
I used to be sick in the head until you came around
depressing thoughts constantly flooding my mind
infecting all the good in me
but then we met
and I heard your laugh
which swam to my veins
pushing all my bad thoughts away
planting flowers in my mind
that was when I learned
that just one little chuckle from you
could heal any sickness I had
you're laugh is the best medicine I've ever been prescribed.
k.l.s.

She drank champagne out of a coffee mug

She had day dreams at night, nightmares during the day

Her face was naked to the world every day, natural

Her heart was naked to the world too

Her eyes sang songs and her lips whispered stories

Her spirit wasn't contained by her body, it swirled around her infecting the people surrounding her

She was unaware of reality and reality was unaware of her

She danced through time and time danced through her

And as the years flew by she became lighter, hollow

When the world penetrated her reality

Her little reality became an unreality, a place to hide from everything around her

Colors diluted, sound harsher, touch rougher

Her reality a tortoise shell, a veil and she became lighter and the wind threatened to blow her away.

Scene changes, ocean enters, she enters

She's on a Dover cliff now and the wind is stronger

Hair free, veil being ripped away, youth gone

Halfway into womanhood but she's hardly here

She is in her own golden reality

And the wind blows

                                       her

                                                        a   ­         w    a         y.

I said it before
and I will say it again
You are haunting me
infecting me
possessing me
You have taken root
in my heart
and grown flowers
around my bones
I radiate you
with every fiber of my being.
But I am not beautiful
No, far from it
toxic
covered in a darkness
that you will never know.
But there is a light
a small gleam of a blossom
and soon, soon
I will bloom
and I will be lovely

Oh how she sings a lullaby to me every night to comfort me through those lonesome nights
Her luminous eyes gaze at us
like a mother watching over her children
She has a tenderness that is felt through her pull
A part of us that we wouldn't be able to live without
Infecting us with love through her bright beautiful being
Brightening our nights when we are in need
Affecting us through her constant changing phases
Constantly there for us
never to leave our side  
Always, till the day we die
She is love 
She is my soul 
she is my moon

"i miss you."

your beautiful, soft fairy-like features.
the soft, pale skin kissed with blemishes.
your small hands holding mine- holding together the broken pieces of my heart.

"i miss you."

the innocent, puppy like eyes staring back at me.
the feelings running through my mind gazing into your honey-dipped eyes.
the gorgeous flowing brown locks- dancing in the wind- the ones i love to run my fingers through.
your soft smile- melting all of my coldness surrounding my soul.

"it's all winter here, even in August."

my heart breaks when you're not with me. the snow buries my thoughts in cold misery.
the darkness surrounds my senses.

"how long do i have to wait, and how many sleepless nights do i have to spend to see you-to meet you."

i can't wait to see your eyes crinkle as you laugh at my jokes.
the warmth in your smile that brings out so much joy in me.
the soft feeling of your hands on my body.
the sweet vanilla scent of you-residing within my clothes.
the sweet taste of your strawberry-tinted lips.

"i try to exhale you in pain, like smoke- like white smoke. i say that i'll erase you, but i can't really let you go yet."

you're on my mind all day and night.
you're the voice that keeps me up at night.
the parasite infecting my brain.
it hurts. but i can't let it go. im addicted.

"the morning will come again. no darkness, no season is eternal."

"wait a little bit, just a few more nights. i'll be there to see you. i'll come for you."

"please stay, please stay there a little longer."

we'll meet again my love.
just like we did before.
please. wait for me a bit longer.
until i see you one

spring day.


-RB

They march instead of walk
through snow and water, sand and rock
and dictate every time they talk.

Impervious, their eyes burn red
pierce you with fire, fill you with dread
they have no souls, are worse than dead.

They are the vision of your perfect fear
infecting those you hold so dear
and don't allow a single tear.

Come January they gather stones
to scare you while you turn to bones
they laugh at your shivers and your moans.

Spring arrives they gouge your eyes
to keep you from seeing flowers rise
forever stuck with gray and black and cries.

Spare you this, the summer heat?
Not; they strap coals to your feet
and smirk at the blind attempting retreat.

Still heartless as arrives the Fall
they decide to test you at your crawl
they cut the legs off one, off all.

They cause you nothing but a year of agony
regrets and loss of sanity
still They go down in infamy.

Were you to go back in time
you'd surely find your own rhyme
and take your chances on your dime!

Now too late to run away
they own you night and day
ah, but a life, thrown away.

Speckled clowns walking swiftly
Shifty eyes set upon the ground
Nice nothing's whispered sweetly
Heating them up and beckoning them down
All are lost yet claim to be found
Their pretty paint runs off on my fingers
Revealing devilish grins and sickly skin
Curse this hand refusing my every command
Forgetting itself and myself it lingers
Infecting me with what comes around
There's only one solution to my appendages revolution.
Off with the arm preventing the plagues progress
Saving my heart and clearing my conscience.

Last night, whilst I was sleeping,
my dreams were turned into
bubble gum rivers
cascading from my mind in
fruit winder waves, infecting
my body with
artificial fructose and
awakening my reverie
with a sweet
burning desire to
Go!
Do!
Live!
So I follow my instructions
and hop on this candy-covered
illusion and travel,
to a place where sugar can
sprout from my fingers and a
thick toffee sauce
can cloud my brain so I can't
hear the screams of paranoia
that come with
all beauty, and I delude
myself into thinking that
this is life.

You're in my daydreams, I question my sanity
Can't get my head around you, cause me to use profanity
All it takes is one simple kind gesture to rekindle my fire
And instantly you will be my absolute upmost desire
Infecting my thoughts, can not stop thinking of you
You're in my dreams and nightmares, to name a few
You're my deepest wish, what I want the most
And my largest regret, something I won't obtain

golden leaves kiss the ground, as i sit innocently on the park bench. watching carefully. it must be autumn. the golden leaves.

colorful birds sing harmonies of another universe, i don’t feel human. i feel crushed by my own insanity. my flesh is no more, im actually a soul.

a young boy looks cheerful on a swing, he’s reciting love poems. he reminds me of me, actually he’s the younger me. my former self on a journey to self-discovery.

the golden leaves start to fly away. the birds fly away and the bench disappears. the golden memory of autumn starts to fade.

suddenly the cold breeze comforts my loneliness. it must be winter. the forest loses its beauty, and all is bare. the trees feel naked.

i dress myself in creativity and try to imagine beauty in such a dead place. im all alone in the park. winter looks dreadful and miserable, i can see it in its face.

the wind whispers. the wind can actually speak to me. it told me to stop worrying. it told me to only leave room for my passion for words.

i realised my dangerous faith in people. i started seeing children run around, cheerful with their peers. every single color starts to show, flowers are blooming. people are smiling, the streets are filled with laughter. happiness. it must be spring.

as i step on the sidewalk and admire creation, a smile illuminates the entire scene. it must be her. it was some kind of euphoric high. rose red cheeks that had me holding onto myself for dear life, i was infatuated.

she disappears. spring fades. a warm breeze comforts my loneliness. i see a river, crystal, so clear. i can see artists, poets, and writers infecting the river with creativity, they add life to it. it must be summer. happy thoughts ride my soul.

metaphors & similes touch me deep within. they caress my soul. my mind is my escape.

these are the seasons in my mind. this is my dreamworld.

now you know what happens inside my mind. well, actually that’s not everything.

I ran away with my resentment
Hypocrisy bred under my skin
infecting my chest cavity
& weighing it down.

I suppose I smoke now
to try & aerate my ribcage.
I'm sorry that I took off
that day in February & never returned.
(even you didn't deserve that)

Somewhere between life & death,
Somewhere between hate & love,
Lie my thoughts
I see that vast abyss in your eyes.

I cannot swallow emptiness
& no longer will choke on your cancer
I'm sorry that I no longer look at you
& that I no longer reply.

I am only trying to cut the cord
lest it tightens & suffocates me
when the tension mounts
God forbid, if I were alreay kneeling.
(I think I would surely collapse)

See now, (or maybe you don't)
all this scar tissue from former battles ?
I have now abandoned the combat
& wait patiently for your last breath.
(a war of resistance not offence)

Do not despise me for giving up,
It was your example I followed
& I saw, even Christ, perished
for the sins of others
(I want to be alive)

My life is filled with endless apologies

Sincere and heartfelt promises that are shallow and empty

It's not a conscious thought
The words aren't spoken with known deceit or intentional mal-intent
But somewhere in my brain, buried in my subconscious, I know...
A self-sabotaging automated programming constantly running
And regardless of my cognitive actions or conscious thoughts, desires and intentions
My automated programming will find a way to inevitably run its code, follow its routines and execute its prime directive

And that's not a cop out
They're still my actions
Conscious or subconscious
Actions resulting from subconscious "thought" are those I'm too ignorant to see or too weak to change in that moment

I don't know what's worse
The subconscious lies and heaps of horse fertilizer, day in and day out, I shove down the throats of those who cross my path
Or the incessant feed of regurgitated words, phrases, thoughts, ideas and worst of all.... hopes.... that is being forced through my digestive track only to be excreted by my body and re-absorbed by my central nervous system

Hope

The worst trick of all

And it always works. Without fail
Why?
Because it psychologically and emotionally preys on everything I want to be
The Hope that THIS TIME I'll get it right
THIS TIME I won't FAIL
All those things inside of me
All of my
......
Potential
.......
This time it won't be wasted
This time I'll come through. You can count on me!
I promise!
This time I'll be on time
This time I won't be late!
This time I'll meet expectations
This time I'll EXCEED expectations!
This time I won't let people down
This time I won't....
                                 .....
                                    ..... let
                                               ME

                                                      .­....down

Hope

The saddest and ultimate cruelty of lies
Created by the Devil to prey on the weak and gullible
If Hell is living your worst day over and over again for eternity;
Then repeating the same detrimental behaviors over and over again for life, sustained in this perpetual motion by something so simple and harmless looking as "Hope" must fall at the Devil's hands

A wolf in sheep's clothing sprinkled in fairy dust
The worst of thoughts and beliefs are kept alive by Hope
Hope is a disease; a psychological virus
A damaged idea spreading from person to person, hijacking their system, and infecting their thoughts
For Hope is not a singular idea, isolated in seclusion, yet ultimately wrapped up and packaged out with other ideas
No, Hope is the vehicle that all thoughts that follow must ride in and by which be delivered
It is the Uber for ideas that follow
And like an unscrupulous and unpitying Uber driver,
Hope takes your brain to a secluded spot against its will and does as it so pleases
But unlike survivors of such horrific events
I, like a wide eyed doe in the headlights
I continuously expose myself to the exact same scenarios
over
and
over again

But not to worry

Eventually,
Hope will lose its magic
And the void created will be filled

By,

Regret,
Resentment,
Animosity,
Self-doubt,
Self-loathing,

And worst of all,

Denial

Denial is Hope's evil twin

The not so secret malicious trickster who, even though wears his emotions somewhat more clearly, is still capable of a lifetime of successful pranks

But unlike Hope, Denial doesn't always reveal his trick if the tricked has yet to become aware of the ruse
Instead, Denial will let them build
Stack upon stack
A colossal suspension bridge built and supported on Denial
And when I, with blind faith, cross that bridge
Putting everything and anything on the line, without question
That's when Denial delivers its reckoning
And in one all encompassing swoop it swallows me whole and any resemblance of "life" with it

Hope and Denial
My Atlantic and Pacific Oceans
and Me, a tiny island
Flanked on either side by the endless majesty of each
And like this planet,
I too,
Am a sphere spinning
A tiny island against the enormities of the the deep blue
A shipwrecked survivor
Floating on the driftwood of my subconscious
Left to the will of my environment
A helpless passenger on this ship of life
Constantly spinning between Hope and Denial
Some days calm and serene
Others, tormented by storms
Monster waves,
Flashes of lightning,
Ear shattering crackling explosions of thunder
And howling winds so fierce they must be the breath of God

And regardless of what scenario lays before me,
I'm left repeatedly with the same "choice" and same action

Enveloped with fear,
Hanging on for dear life,
Like a helpless and horrified child.....

On the verge of soiling my pants

A final blow
It ceased the noise
Sent ripples through the calmness

It sent away
What could have been
But ne'er had chance to happen

Now endless nights
And many a drink
Have led to only heartaches

Echos, they ring
Cries, they sing
But sorrow is incognizant

Ceaseless murmers
They'll never silence
They haunt my restless sleep

They have no heart
No soul, no feelings
They'll gain no pleasure greater

That's when I fade
Out, and away
Cast into the shadows of life

The mental zodiac
Infecting the mind
Burning it up with toil

Work and wonder
Mix, twist, plunge
Down and in through darkness

Brown and green
Blended with red
Sepia bleeds throughout

Now drowned in blue

Colors blend
Feelings mingle

Equivalents were hidden
Now dug up, resurfaced

Brought into life
Once again

Winds meet
Clouds part

Opening chance

What never had grace to pardon
Has now cleared the air

I can see
What left a hole
A gap in deep dark valleys

Now left alone
I wander the world
Stranded within the forest

Her brown eyes shine like the sun
Her soul reflects in them as I become undone
Weakened by her voice, or at least what it used to represent
Blessed to have had such memories, even with the overlying resentment

In my head our song plays when we eventually meet
How eventually has turned into nothing, as I admit defeat
How this poem is a requiem, as well as an obituary
To the death of our love, the wakeup call of fate
And even as we never even had a first date, meeting up now would be too late
Must our favorite songs be played at its cemetery?

Your hands seem soft, at least your photos say so
Your life seems so lonely, or am I projecting?
I miss back when this felt real, and it wasn't infecting
My heart to lie on the spot, defend you like a true attorney
While you carry on with life, as I become a bitter memory
A reminded of better days, when friendship meant all the world
When I was some guy, and you some girl
When kissing you was over the limit
But snuggling felt second nature

It’s over, to those reading this I've lied, yet barely at that
She was amazing, even worthy of Being a wife
But life interfered, where love could never reach
And lust disrupted where life experience could never cheat

Forgive me, yourself, even forgive life itself
I wish I could hold your hands, and be there in your cries for help
And be the rock, albeit pointless
I wish to be your guide, as you are my reason
I the diary, you the pen
You the rain, I the bucket
I the maestro, you the order less Singer
Never following my instructions and making me jealous of anyone who calls you "theirs”.

I sound like I’m obsessed; I sound like I cling to your image and not yourself.
I am... In denial to my love to what was and could have been
It was special, but it could have been real.

Had we met sooner or later, would you do the same?
Or would life take it course as we find love opens doors?

I'll never get that answer, and I've bit my tongue to respect your ears
To keep away your fears
I'm sorry that your sorry, that you regret
And had things been different, this piece would have a better ending.
Till the universe resets or in the next life... May our feelings rest in peace
Even when mine fight for revival
Let the cemetery rest as you have

Your arteries are like correlations
Possessing fragments of my brightest moments
Protruding right against your skin
And an abundance of my darkest thoughts
Crawling viciously through your lungs
Infecting your every breath
Just to fill the empty spaces
Between the blood that pulses through your veins
And the twisted bones that keep you straight

The craters in your wrists
Hold masquerades of celebratory pain
Where crisp and lifeless voices
Hum out screams of your trauma
Like meaningless smalltalk
As if you were a resemblance of the weather
Just another galactic disaster
While their idle hands of Devils play
Scrape knives along your spine
And feast formally from your flesh