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Mykle Matwaya Jan 23
Throughout the course of this life, I, just like you, have made my fair share of mistakes. To compensate for that & also out of a fear of letting others down or causing pain or suffering to anyone other than myself, over the years I have tried to hone to almost perfection, the habit of seeing down the line when it comes to the decisions I make and the chances I take. But alas, no one is perfect, especially not I.

Although I was compelled to grow up long ago, I feel as though I am still a young man, a young man with old values. Values like honor, loyalty, dignity and a wonderful sense of shame, which compliments the first three aforementioned values quite well. Traits far removed from the gooey 'Quick’mix’d Battered' personalities we find ourselves standing shoulder to shoulder with in the oven of today’s irreversible societal meltdown. Everyone seems to have forgotten to teach their off-spring of that which makes life worth living & keeps the world turning. Which is of course, living for others just as much as we live for ourselves. Unfortunately, due to the selfish pace of today, rarely is anyone noticed for their gestures towards humanity. The reason for this phenomenon, being of course; Man Kinds evolution into the Narcissistic Vampire he is today. And as a result of this, not only do our efforts towards one another merely go unnoticed & unappreciated, but far worse than that, courtesy is no longer even recognized for what it is and so therefore is rarely reciprocated and thus, phased out. And as a result; Man Kinds new triumphant mutation, 'The All-consuming Ego', is free to simply **** the meaning out of all that was once so valuable to the fabric of human society, while arrogantly presuming to be deserving of it all anyways, regardless of it's contribution to anyone or any thing. Now the ego acts as a new type of biological *****, an invisible 'Iron Lung'. Processing the very niceties that once separated us from the beasts, as if they were just like any other natural resource. But there is a difference & that difference is that these are human resources and in my opinion are just as valuable as the air we breathe, and just as  sweet as the water we drink. Manners are things to be noticed, cherished and savored. They are decency's, gifts, that when given & returned, should impart on us the feeling of being recognized for our own decency and our own efforts towards our fellow man.

However, since Man has placed his Ego at the forefront, where once stood the Human Heart, 'It' now sits at the receiving window, absorbing and indifferent, and instead it all goes unnoticed, unrecognized and unappreciated just like a gulp of air and is simply exhaled without a second thought as to how precious it really was.
If you were able to ask a fish, to name one thing which It considered to be, both the most obvious aspect of his environment and was also most essential to the survival of its species, the last thing it will mention is the water. Ask a man today the same question, but replace the words “his environment” with “humanity” and the last thing he is going to mention is another human being.

But I digress…

You'll have to excuse me. I am after-all a true romantic in every sense of the word and I have always been quite partial to dramatic effect. I consider myself a realist, a term too often confused with having a negative outlook. I beg to differ. In a world gone mad, I just prefer to keep my eyes wide open and my head in the game, as opposed to having it shoved all the way up my own *** like most. And although the world may not be so pretty out here, at least it’s real, as am I.
Please allow me to make something abundantly clear; I never have been, nor will I ever be, anyone special. And being aware of these facts is still far better than pretending that both of them are anything other than just that, facts! I find no comfort in self-congratulation, self-delusion, or deliberate oblivious ignorance.
I am what I am.

What more can I say?
Another year come and gone and just like the rest of the world, it seems things for me too have only grown worse.
I am void of regret, none old, and none new. And for the exceptions of my Daughter and the Almighty Himself, I apologize for nothing and to no one else. After a lifetime of experiences and lessons learned,
all that I am truly certain of, is that I am still here. And unfortunately, so are most of you.
And I also know this, I am still standing. Upright, with both feet planted firmly in reality and God willing, that is exactly how I intend to remain.There is not one ****** thing in this world which I have any control over and everything I have ever wanted, I have never gotten, and everything I have ever had, has been taken from me.
And yet here I remain. Standing, till the day I die. And when that day comes, the depth of the grave will be twice as deep,
to bury me upright & on my feet.
heyo Apr 10
Its funny how a single notion of you can make my day
Its not as though you ever intend to, or that you even care that you do
But the very idea of you brings such a warm tickly feeling and smile to my face, You’re one of the few things that makes me comfortable being happy

Sometimes I chide myself for being so vulnerable to someone so daring
I catch myself staring, taking in your eyes, your smile,
And most of all that ever-present contagious light that you worry so much is overbearing
It makes it even harder to see when that light dims down

I want to be able to fuel you, in the way that so few can do for you
Forgive me, I’m trying my best
For all the bads, I promise I’ll give you all the good I canYeah
Neville Johnson Aug 2018
I’m on my way to San Antone
Gonna cowboy up
There’s a filly there I need to see
Sure enough, we’ll build a fire
Take in the Alamo
Then we’ll dance at The Wagon Wheel
The best *****-tonk I know
I’ll be on my best behave
The whole weekend through
I met her through Cowboy Date
The internet is cool
This solo buckaroo
Don’t intend to be single for long
This is our fourth rendezvous
I’m not usually wrong
I got a new Stetson hat
Took my spurs off
There’s a spring in my gait
I look like George Strait
In my fresh-pressed cowboy shirt
I even got some cologne on
Now, that’s a first
I could go on and on
I told my Mom she’s the one
I’ll tell my gal tonight
We’ll ride off into the sunset together
Assuming everything goes all right
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
--- as a boy, I explored a hermit's lair
--- the hermit was not there, he'd left nothing but a tin box
--- of charcoal pills, a panacea for curiosity, I was told.

This old bearded fellow who lived at the foot o'thumb butte,
by the burro's water hole,
other side o'the hill from Doug McVicar's Jasper find

Tidal shorelines from my child hood
swirling through the softed rocks

Boulders on the bottom, roll on, crustal waves rise and fall

it all goes back to that 13,000 year mark
when Gobekli Tepi,
was in the building,
long long before
the Hopis were on the Pollen Way, leaving land marks on

Rocks risen above the desert floor

Some thing came from space, something very cold,
a snowball so big it tugged the ocean of magma
through the crust of the earth

nuclear glass, same time. nano diamonds

The younger dryas-

melt water pulse, fire from the sky, men could see that, with their own eyes.
and then they saw the clouds of witnesses

Rituals learned, the story heart seeps from mother to child,

at first touch some say.

Specialized touches were included in the 2.0s.
Holistic wuwu Randall Carlson laughs, why lie? Evidence, see.

What did you see when you passed through hell the first time?
Nothing, you kept your eyes shut.

Are you really
Experienced? That was the question. Ask the experts,
but some of them lie.
Never trust their clocks, that's wise. Time is too temporary to make
much difference
in the long run. Time, least of all powers in eternity. Chronos,
Chaos shattered him, and some story teller on a journey
saw the event
while his tongue was being tamed, a task no man can do.

Fire and Ice from heaven to earth,
whole peoples saw it,
with the eyes in their head

Hope is the key to the heart's lock on reality

The younger Dryad's oak burned,
Drought killed all the others, bugs killed the elms.

Ah spirit to spirit, compare. The heart of the world is weeping
for the ignorant eaters of poisoned poems and stagnant stories

speed kills when it comes to cosmic notes on rocks

patience, under stand the canopy of heaven can, filter
poison from those
stagnant stories's idle words, redemption draweth nigh,

count on it. Keep counting, patience finishes what she starts.

Sacred Geometry, scale invariance, I saw the Mississippi
Carve meandering ant canyons in the dirt
while watching the rain
Nothing's secret anymore, that's a reality that may be beyond

your thought. Textbook in stone. I know geometry Mr. P,

can I come in? She who builds, who destroys, who rebuilds, suggested
my bombs have a Nobel role,
in energizing

the ark
the earth is the ark, but you knew that already, right.

Acacia bush visions from a medium
of messaging the master builder,
who, you know, made this
happen, used to heal with ashes.

Healing war, study it no more, it is
possible man, alone, can imagine.

The Godhead? What's the big idea? You a heretic, Mr. P?

Come and see, leave the clock/phone.

This is big momma story, little clay doll with pointy feet
sticks in the dirt, stares at the fire,

the story mamma, shhh

Stands, and lifts her hands up high, pointing
all her fingers to the skies where ashes, glowing
like we can imagine the stars once scattered by God
and his sons's servants prepping

origins of human conflict taught
Tubalcain by fire light, while Jubal
Sang the very umph umph song from
Taj Mahal' 1970 with Jerry, Fillmore West,

A message to Garcia, from on high:
the imbecility of the average man—
the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it,
That, resist. It is evil.

Angels, imaginable, you know, mere messages, nothin more,

so great a cloud of witnesses
there was a times when  all
imaginations men were imagining heartily
were evil, altogether.

Enki left and went to the moon, or that's the story grandma's
sisters told me
when I was a little boy lost and found from time to time

The serpent on the staff, where's that story from?
Who says their mammy saw that happen.

Time, Hosts of Heaven, time is one of those.

Fan tasty taste, see, the truth is good.

Freedom, responsible freedom, take as granted,
intend good and go.
Seed of the Dream,
I planted that. It contained this fact,

we reap what we sow.

Ambi-Dios, ambit-ion with no hope for something just beyond
the best that I have ever done,
that'll make a child mean as hell, on the average,
according to the data Google smuggled into China
through those super phones,
unavailable in the USA, protected by the wielders
of destruction who eat the world up,
and drink its very blood.

the bread of shame, is fed to slaves to keep them in the queue,

BTW que-eee was the word I used for ****, when I was a child.
I took that word to school.
Nobody knew what it meant. I considered that cool
and kept my secret until just now.

I feel so free.

A builder sees a building and the builder in a single glance.
None may enter here lacking geometry, that's no secret now.
The cultivated Pythagorean mind, simple as pi.

'Cain't get to Romans eight, which is here, now, I think,
with out going beyond Hebrew six.

The measure of a man that is the angel. No comma,
just a jot, then this means that,
to the mind
listening for mystery in beauty found lying around.,
glistening in the sun.
The charcoal pills I found fifty three years ago, these wandering thoughts I found dancing the trail earlier this morning.

A millennium back
Our fate decided
That we were destined
To meet like this
As strangers...

For LOVE to touch us
For LOVE to happen

Nor YOU nor I
Could have stopped
This LOVE to happen

We were mere puppets
In the hands of fate

Good thing is
Rather than fighting LOVE
We surrendered to accept it

We made choice of not
Harming, Hurting, Hating
Humiliating each other
Or anyone else

We made choices
To be kind, caring
Respectful & trusting
To be compassionate and
LOVING towards each other

In your LOVE
I became a Radha
And a Meera
And a Kabeer
And an Eve
And a Kaiz
And a Rumi
And a Rabya

You became my Krishna
And a Layla
And an Adam
And a Zuliet
And my Allah-Hoo

Wherever I stand and BE
You are there
Everywhere for me
You've became ETERNAL
Part and parcel of my SOUL

We've stood by each other
In thick and thin
And we intend to do so forever
To keep our conscience clean

Shi Em 4d
i can hear them banging
inside my head,
perhaps this time
they intend to render me dead.
The three hands,
All keep running,
As if they intend to
Catch the others

Even when met
No breaking,
As if they are in a race

Is this a
Perpetual attempt
To break out
From the clock?
Jon York Jul 17
Not everyday
   is  a  good  day, live anyway.
             Not all the people
   you love will love you back,
               love anyway.
             Not everyone
     you thought you knew
               will tell you
                   the truth,
          be honest anyway.
               Not all deals
     are fair, play fair anyway.
               Not all your love
   relationships will be truthful
                  and  faithful
                     to you, be
             truthful and faithful
             with   them  anyway.
                Not all "friends"
        will  be  there  for  you  when
             you need them to be,
        be  there  for  them  anyway.
                  Never apologize
       for having a heart as big as the
                 ocean to the people
        who would rather stay puddles
and  accept  the fact that  some  people
              didn't intend to let
        you down, but did. Too many
people are looking for the right person
               instead of trying to be
   the right person. Let it all go and
                    see what stays.
               Die  with  memories,
                       not dreams.
                                                         ­                             Jon York   2019
persephone Mar 2018
i feel the weight of the universe
expanding in my lungs
pushing outward until it fills
the cracks and the spaces
between my ribs
i collapse outward in a scream
formed of stardust
bursting from me in a flood of emotion

i am too full for this hollow body
i am too old for this frame
i am too vast and ancient
to be contained
in a form that is not the sprawling forest
branching out at the roots
a living organism spanning miles
i stretch my arms wide
and touch the edges of
my feeble human consciousness
i **** at the heavy fabric
of the stage curtain
i rip it from its hooks
and stare at the vast nothingness beyond
and i feel infinite infinite infinite

i stare past the stars and the galaxies
and the thick clouds
birthing life from nothing
and i feel myself
the universe at home in my chest
spreading and pushing and ripping
until my skin
separates from my flesh
separates from my bones
and i am three incomplete lives
on the cold tile floor

i have lived through ages
i have lived through empires
i have lived through
the fabric of the universe
ripping at the seams and
bursting in a flash of light
to create life and vast nature
and love love love

your name rips its way
past my lips in a scream
and i am forced
to face my shortcomings
in the echo of words and
lips on lips on lips
feeling fading but never fast enough
to forget

i curse the day i ever saw your face
and found it kind enough
to smile at
i curse the moment i ever realized
you were worth the wait
because you may be worth the wait
and the pain
and the heartbreak
but i am worth stars
and galaxies

i am worth the creation of worlds
and endless life
and places too real and
immensely powerful
to be contained in a word
i am alive
i am alive

and i intend to stay that way
team feral Jul 18
to you, i feel like something
so                       insignificant,

i fell hard for you, and i did
not              intend              to,

i'm not sorry for all the good
times              we               had,

to you, i love you.
Seema Dec 2018
A word unspelt
The words unsaid
A wrong turn again
It may be bad
From one end to another
The evidence makes no sense
There could be another way
Why feel tensed
The heavy clouds will soon fade
And moon will give us the way
It's gotta be somewhere
Not so far away
Whoever has laid hands on
The buried old scripts
Have gone missing
On their adventurous trips
What is in it,
That one craves to find
Is it a treasure map
Or a portal of any kind
I feel it isn't a good idea
To join this group of five
It is still time
To run and be alive

But wait...

What is that noise, I hear
The other five lanterns
Seem to have disappeared
Like being swallowed
By some form of evil
I may be wrong, coz am quite behind
To even reach the grounds
Where, burried are those scripts
And a curse that bounds
I decided not to continue
Any further and put my life in danger
So I waited for day break
And that's when, I met a stranger...


An unusually dressed figure
That like of an ancient priest
With a hood covering
Emerging, from behind the trees
May be, he is one of the five
But how can I be sure
As the figure looked strange
Or perhaps, trying to lure
I sat next to a big rock
Keeping my eyes fixed
A sudden brush of winds
And the place seem to be mixed
I blinked to clear my view
Of that of dirt and dust
Pieces of rags flew
In the wildly gust
Intoxicating scent caught my senses
And I seemed to be drowning
From below my feet
Hours later, opening my eyes
On a hard solid ground
Surrounded by
Unearthly or earthy crowd?


Whispers of death
Rang in my ears
Blurred vision gave way
To my crouching fears

Where am I?

Above the ground of below
Is it my grave
Or a tomb
Like cave
Dim lights sprawl
As I try to stand
The ground suddenly shakes
And on my chest, I land

Is it my end?

Glitters and shine
From the passing ray of lights
A graveyard of buried treasures
Below many heights
It, definitely must be a dream
Yet, I can still feel
The chill of hovering death
Crawling beneath my heels
I dare not look down
To scream my head out
So I slowly, crawled
Towards the faint light
From where I heard the strangers call
Standing slowly,
not to disturb the peace
I followed the voice
That led among the trees...


The moon was bright
And I felt the cold breeze
Brushing enough
For my ears and nose to freeze
Then a voice cracked
Of that of an old man

"he who bares no greed,
shall walk free",
"he who dares to steal,
shall be buried alive"

The stranger -

Your life is spared
From the cursed wrath
Your soul is pure
In the eyes of death
You lack the ingredient
That most posses
So have perished
And left lifeless
It is the greed
That is cursed in a being
Thus, all five got buried
With their share and sin
You walk free unharmed
Return to your people
And let them know
Whoever walks through
The path in search of scriptural treasure
Shall be cursed and buried
Within the treasure

And I, blink -

Far from the place
As I was in the night
Back to my senses
Welcoming day light
Life of mine is precious
That no penny or treasure
Can ever buy
Who wants to live a cursed life
And live behind their lies
I lack the seed
Of greed
That I don't intend to plant
I shall read
And educate
On how harmful, is this

Spilling imagination. A story poem.
I squashed a spider
Squeezed the life out of it
I did not intend for its death
I'm only there to ***
Not to take its breath

I squashed a spider
Crushed by a tread
I didn't know it was there
Please believe what I'd said
I did not meant what I did

Maybe now its family are crying
And thought I was lying
When I said I did not intend to
Please believe me it's true
I was there out of the blue

I squashed a spider
A big brown harmless one
Condolence to its mother and father
And to their other daughter and son
I hope in other side you're having fun
Once upon a time
I fell in love with this man
And this man
Would break promises
Break my heart
But I was sure he was the one
I was blinded by love
I never saw the pain he caused
I loved him so completely
I believed I would never love again
Then one day
I met this other man
And this man
Truly kept his word
He was a dreamer
And no matter the day
Or how untrue it felt
He made sure he called me beautiful
So much so I'd believe him
And this man is the man I intend to spend my life with now
It is possible to love again.
Getting engaged in two weeks
Allforlove Nov 2018
Nothing is helping this feeling of being
because I feel pulled in a million competing directions
and if I'm being honest,
which I intend to be;
I myself am the worst offender.

I am crippled under the weight of all these expectations
but when I open my eyes
they are all made of reflections
of me
that I would rather not see,
funhouse distorted.

And everyone around me
looks through clear unmangled windows.
baffled by my discontent.
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