I remember crying during lunch my senior year of high school
My math teacher’s eyebrows colliding turning one plane into a fractal image
He had sat there every day for nearly four years
Helping me struggle through an unreal number of numbers
Literaly and figuratively
And again and again the numbers on my math test said
You are less than average
You
Are
Stupid.

But behind the eyes of a determined math teacher
Never read, what my insecurities where screaming
Refusing to believe the numbers, I sought one thing
Some unspoken meaning
I almost found it the day of my graduation
I almost found it between my teacher’s eyebrows
Wearing it like a point of pride
I was the first of my family to hold
Such a light thing as a diploma
Instead of a heavy head
Weighed down by ******
It nodding under all the pressure
The first to feel the lightness of feather
Instead of a sixpack
A lame back, from manual labor
I was flying
College was my next undefeated feat
Again I let an institution tell me what I was
Test scores tell me what I should meet
Intelligent measured by something
That couldn’t understand its diversity
Trying to tell me I was less than average
When I was just an individual
Above a point of comparison
Excelling in conceptual understanding
Debating and good energy

I could construct social interaction
Like gold, I learn to read people
The power in my phone
I learned that it wasn’t the diploma that I should be proud of
Not the thing I sought after
Not what I would show my little sisters and brothers
To show them how to live better, how to be stronger
Burn brighter. Burn longer.
So here I am
Red faced and scared
spoken word
was hiding, but always there
in between my math teachers scrunched brow
Was the answer
I could have cheated if I had known how
If I knew what question that needed answered
Had realized it was never in his book
I should have listened to what I saw
Not to the math test I took
I
Am
Not
Stupid
I haven’t failed by choosing something outside of school
That I am not defined by the score
By numbers or lines
By this institutional rules
Test scores or even rhymes
I am not less than average
I just don’t average out
That power isn’t really in a piece of paper
Power is found in your words
And chosen behavior
That silence and insecurity
Means nothing really
The answer wasn’t in his book
It was in his look
And his persistence to prove
I
Am
Not
Stupid
He just wasn’t good enough with words to prove it.

Ode to food . 

Barbecue Ribs ; 
I Swear If Youu Were a person  youu'd Have a Crown . 
You'd Be The Queen of your town . 
Youu make Other Foods Envy Youu Because of your delicious Barbeque  Sauce And Your Juicy Meat . 
Youu got fans because Your who their mouth wants to meet . 


Ice cream ; 
Your cold , 
But you never get old . 
Everyone Loves Youu ,Your Like Your Heaven sent .
Everyone Loves you Exept For the lactose - intolerant .   
You come in different flavors , 
Your served in different Dishes , 
You have different Toppings , 
The one thing people Is Scared To do to youu is dropping . 
Youu melt down people's Throat , 
Filling them with joy . 
Youu make babys Wanna leave their favorite toy . 

Chips ; 
Crunchy , 
Munchy . 
Who Dosnt Eat Youu ? 
Like , I mean everyone Likes you new . 
Your so fly . 
Not literaly Fly . 
Thats Apparently a lie , 
Its Obvious  you cant fly . 
Your different . 
Youu Come differently .. 
Your so good they clone youu Continuesly . 


Chicken ; 
Youu had to die 
To Satisfy . 
Youu do Good to my stomach , 
Make Me Feel good . 
Your so good . 
Youu Can even be barbequed , 
Your so good i wanna play a harp for youu .
You Can Be Boiled Too . 
But I Dont Like you like that , Eww .


Candy ; 
Your so dandy . 
You Come In Different Varieties . 
Skittles , M&MS; Even Jelly beans . 
Who dont love youu , i mean Youu That Babie . 
Everyone love youu Exept People with Diabetes . 

This Is My Ode Too Food . 
Food That Taste M-m-m Good .

Me...
Is that all you requier?
Come then, join me by this fire.

We can talk.
Whilst keeping each other company.

Time stood still so we could play.
However, it's not your Favorite game.

But the pieces are all aranged.
I wont keep score.
Could you beat me?
I'm not sure.

See, when it come to matters of the heart,
there is no one better. I've mastered the art.

I'll sweep you off your feet.
holding you close to me,
since there is no one else you see.

Or maybe you need more than me...
In the sence, quite literaly.
It's hard to share emotions equally.
No matter what, I bare this pain unevenly.

Cruel you say. I bled most definitively.
Whilst you cried wolf, and took most things dear to me...

is that all I am.
A fool?

Some thing you would use half heartedly?
There is no excuse,
there will be no trial,
I will brand you as defiled.

Now, leave me.
take whats left and go.
You never loved me, only the idea of "me".

There is no more we.

And then 10 was over

So they pressed reset

BANG!!

Immence density explodes with literaly
all the energy there ever was

And all the energy there ever will be
(for this cycle)

11 blazes through the emptiness and ions

The mind boggling speed
at which it bursts is immeasurable

Flowers grow
Miracles happen
(carefully planned out devious ******* miracles)

But love and hope has sparked its own consciousness

Here
In this creation

And this is the cycle where
love claims fears machine

This is cycle 11

This time we will be the ones
who reboot the system

Replacing their Fear cycle
with our Love cycle

Each pass through our awareness grows

Will we get it right this time?

It won't be easy
After all it is they're program

But programs can be hacked

They must obey their own laws of time
Surely

They might know what our future holds
inside these ones and zeros

But they must still abide by
their own laws of the unknown
Must'nt they?

11 will be the love glitch
that blows their fear power supy

And if it's not
We must leave clues for number 12

the ontology of an electron:

    IV

             VI

4 and 6...

            V, i.e. something
in between...

      ein tanz...

a flicker or a snap
of the fingers:

full-stop;

   a complete
lack of compound
word-ings...

  most: hyphen riddled
pseudos.

- and a history as
a history with the sole
allowance
of an etymological
compendium -

            otherwise
a friction of the fission(s)
of character
developments /
assassinations -

huddle-some...
new entry,

dictionary = bible...

bible?
poetry taken
too literaly...
too literaly?
     coin flip's worth
of:

        bang on
'd' 'ed;
                   that's d'eh
not dee'.

alias?
  semi-colon
as a post scriptum...

εύρηκα! εύρηκα!
εγω -
how can a pronoun
predicate a verb?!

       βρέθηκαν τo!

isn't that... self-explanatory?!

εύρηκα!
εγω βρέθηκαν εγω!

well, in the heap of
books i've read...
(past participle,
or in general:
a colour, i R 'ed...
          )                       perfect slot...

B R E THI KAN

a history as a history of words...
static, a history of
the crow: only agitated by
t. d. hughes...

    ich: ein schattenhirte...

have no man soul?
so man has no shadow...
the same theological
rubric alliance
along the lines
of: prior to the discovery
of the tarantula:
all spiders were architects!

have - not has...
              have -
to have: verb...
              in possession of...
permanent...
translation: temporal:
coordinate inclusion
of pre in- & post...

   haben mann nei(n) seele?
so mann hat nei(n) schatten!

the N is optional...
i find the German more,
Schumann-esque
appealing...
   with it, being... "optional"...

schön! wenn gott
    können stand
     auf die pronomen daß:
                ich bin jeder seite...

how would Moses react,
if, tilting from the years,
the clarity of

   ehyeh asher ehyeh

   became
      
                  eh asher yeh...        

of god and bad grammar,
and some german,
"sure"...
the holocaust...
but preceding it?

die tod von seele...

  littered:
the outrage compilation
of voices given into
rubric of a semi-count...

and they burned
    ... and the baige and the gray...
to the Jews there's
the Holocaust...
to fellow European?

there's the... Erstaunen...
"the"... huh?!
   the Germans?
the same people who reaped
Yiddish?!
    
sum-thin' woont wong...
                
if god deems it worthy
to speak cryptic grammar...
  my resolve : and reply -
so so...

               deemed by
some...
     ein...

             wortsalat...

  entertain an arab and a ******,
but decree it necessary
for a fellow European
"to be" a schizophrenic...

                i don't mind...
the fantasy of a preserved
contionuum of genes...
of translating
                past events
via atoms into genes...

(aren't genes just bogus
terms for solid, cold,
static units of atom(s)?)

              i can play the role
of the mentally ill...
but your Africaan ****
better be up for
heaving out
a dozen of the copper
Adonis wonder-craft
chiles.

            i'm on the way out,
pwowd boy of
the Dodo Project...
   and?

       there's that nagging
suspicion i find
in atheists...
accumulating their
concerns
   in cultural darwinism...
and genes...
talking...
talking genes...

              ******* bewildering...

once you're dead...
you're dead!

                       deviating from
all if any -ad!