His heart was kept in a babooshka-doll
that released memory smells
with every layer that eroded.
The wooden fences faded
to damp brick in the corner
of his head reserved for the harmonica
that played through the microphone
in his neck till the sound got lodged
in his maudlin march
that had him running like he
was angry at the road.
His Echostep
vibrating in
the kremlin skin
and marrionette heart strings
that kept him.... him.

Despite broken wings
he made the air around him dance
with the resonance of each
broken crystal ball shard used
to predict the past.
Each chime raised a mountain,
folding back on itself
hoping the hallucination would end,
till tired hands
batted away golden hawks.
With rocks for claws.

It was all the fights with the wind
that had the clouds leaving the moon's
Picaso skies,
and sailing towards him on warships of
rain and frozen effigies.
They arrived, astronauts
from outer space
burning from the lips
outwards revealing grey
intent and red mists.
He fought back with false start
epiphanies and the falsetto
prophecies that stung the air
with pitch raining down.
Leaving bare branches where once
green hands applauded
everything but empty air,
like listless typewriters furiously
trying to find their voices.

Feirce winds and fake faces
left blinking with closed eyes
in the vastness of battlefield.
Turning stomaches and
blank canvas whirlpools,
storms of anti-peace
scarring the last conquests
of the flightless ape lizard,
and all his gorilla warfare.

Twisted around your finger tightly
Master, schooled in the art of manipulation
Do they had out degrees for that?
Many victims fell before me
How many will follow?
You play the wounded soul so well
Drawing the adulation of hapless idiots
Professing empathy and compassion
With a heart void of any sincerity
Emotional vampire, leaching attention
Savoring the taste of ultimate control
Puppeteer, yanking fragile life strings
Of a frantically dancing marrionette
Its face contorted in a rictus of pain
Till you tire of the pathetic show
And drop it like a bag of old bones
Thus satisfied,
Walk away looking for the next dummy

We commence the acencion into an oxygen void dimension of vivid colors and breathless serenity
your beach-breaze salty glaze compliments your starved gaze as you graze my thighs and sigh through Slytherin lips,
blindly searching for the switch buried in my skin, a surpressed sunset at your fingertips
You need me now, like an orphaned lover you miss me, your strong hands cannot understand the firm grip of my surreal sweet lips, the warm
carresses of my tongue, the twists, the complex concoction of intoxicating love-making physical poetry, Constructing
your perfect carnal high, I trace fairy trails down your chest into the fields of your belly, I paint roses onto your skin with my soft
puckered sips, I drink from you your pleasure and make it my own, you're not alone on this quest to fullfillment,  DO your fill and
you'll recieve in full.I'm at your command. Move me like your marrionette star, I'll repeat which ever wonders your whispers wish me to,
let us commerce in our spiritual sign language, catalyst mental eruption, hot and heavy streams of red-hot moans rivers into tropical atmosphere,
riveting the hem of my body as my soul slips through the strips of bone, the rib caging my bongo core as it crecendos into **** sore psalms, my palms
rooted to your crown as I combust into a comet, corrupted by the sublime nectar dripping off the rims of your mouth, connecting the dots to my being,
you found me
now come

My lover's words become the buzzing of humming bird wings
A painted mouth miming a stream of saccharine nothings
Supple limbs at the whim of marrionette strings
Her fingers trail ice on my chest
Weaving knots of unrest
That strumpet
That puppet caress
Nestled in this undressed
Stained box-set mattress

He awoke one morning sobbing and crying. He didn't know why, but on the inside he felt like he was dying.
He could hear his wife and kids going on about their day as he lay in the bed.
He tried to be strong for them, tried to wipe away his tears but he couldn't.
And instead of being the stereotypical man, keeping his head held high and going to work with his own two hands... he fell to the floor and cried out in pain. His crying was uncontrollable; the tears ran down his cheeks and hit the floor like pouring rain.

He was diagnosed with depression so he took drugs to relieve himself of his compression.
He took the drugs so he could once again open his eyes and see the color of the day.
He took the drugs so he could smile, look around and not be afraid to go this way or that way.
Each time he would take the med, he would smile because he knew soon enough he would be better. But what he didn't know, was that smile would soon turn to a dread. That wasn't suppossed to happen.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months not going to work. Each and every day he would look at his adult hands but each and every day, he would feel less like a man and more like a child. He was in even more pain now.
He felt more and more like suicide was the only way out, but every time that thought crossed his mind, he cried. He was afraid of what might happened if he tried.
Would it hurt? But what could hurt worse that the pain he was feeling at that moment?

He had a voice but it was soft spoken and no one could hear it, or maybe he just didn't know how to explain the pain he felt on the inside and out.
On the inside he was reaching out for help but his hands wouldn't move, he was stuck in time, stuck in this groove.
He became disabled and was denied disability over and over again.

He went to doctor appointment after doctor appointment and continued to sign his life away with the same ******* pen.
He would frequently fall into pits of darkness and the professionals kept pushing facility after facility. They wanted to take him away from his family and make him someone else's liability.

He often wondered if there was anyone else out there that knew his pain. He tried to explain, but never could. Let's say he was actually able to, what would he gain?
It would just be another person feeling sorry for him, and he didn't need that.
Could anyone else really know what it's like to wake up every day just to be terrified to go outside?

And it wasn't that he didn't give it any effort because believe it, he tried.
Could anyone else really know what it's like to walk in public and feel every pair of eyeballs watching?

He knew he wasn't like everybody else and he knew they knew it too.
He constantly felt like he was in a play, center stage and everyone was watching it.
He tried to keep his head down, he tried to not give a **** but it didn't work.
He was a marrionette puppet, he couldn't control his movements. Back to center stage it was a nuisance.

Oh how he wished he could just go back to being depressed and ****. At least he could pretend and try to repress it, like Robin Williams.
But in reality Robin Williams was gone. And a few days after the news broke, he found out he was taking the same **** Robin was on.

Generation or creative expression

A mind is a terrible thing to waste according to the wiseman who first said it, but what about a love?
Because now I feel it in the ways that I had forgotten since my last heartbreak whose influence is still stuck on my heart. But you make me forget.
Image dispersed, vision blurred, glasses broken. But I can still see.
You
The only image that makes sense to my distorted senses. The voice to my deaf ears, the cinnamon to my scentless nose, The warm lips of flavor of whom I miss whenever they're away from mine, and the sight...
A lover worthy of my heart, the heart of a god, the loving nature of a goddess, and the rock-solid trust of a soldier at war.
the goal of my movement is to love you. The real you, not the marrionette you throw in my face as a facade to the true you. Open your heart and let me feed on the energy you burn in your ways. For I am a wispering willow and you, my love, the conversation.
I am draconic and you the flame I breath, the heat I create, the fire I make. A recreation of a desperate scramble in which I would gladly partake with you, but be straight forward with me. The bush is beat, not beaten, and I am open to truths.
A shy soul looking for the love of which I want to supply. Redefining love with what we make and showing the sun that its heat is nothing to that of which we let out when we burn our flames.
Flirtatious, a spirit of whom I was and still am. I have a heart though, and that heart is a fragile being of which I am growing, and I know that you can relate. A deeper bond between man and nature that can't be displayed by those around us, only we can produce the image.
A new generation, the thing that you are destined to bring in at the hands of god himself as he blesses you and showers you with the beginnings of a new world order. No destruction, no war, no new inspirations of battle nor struggle, just
Clear
clearer than the very water you drink, clearer than the air you breathe and the sounds that breech your eardrum. Clearer than the mind of the buddhist who has achieved enlightenment, a wide space of idea and philosophies in my mind of which the only answer is Y-O-U.
You
the generational question of which I still cannot answer. The sad song that plays in my mind during the lonely times, the warm bed to my tired soul. It's you, my answer to a major problem in life, the last piece of the puzzle and now I may once again be complete.
My generation, your generation, our generation. The last foundation of a crumbling building, we, the platform of which it stands on and all others following in our footsteps in order to keep themselves afloat in a world steady sinking, sinking, sinking in it's blind shuffle for power. Let us support its heavy weight for all others and hold hands to keep ourselves from going under.
Love, found, once lost, lost once more, and found once more.

Who what why
We feel enveloped
Like we were licked
E---Tricked frightened
Secretly eloped
Who do we elect?
Why all signs
Horse, Of course
monkey, Divorce
Tiger Eyes strong heart
This world falling apart
The presidential
minds over
shock waves
surfboard
Or somebody is a great asset_
The brain waves hand slaves
boardroom
Ready set became
the schoolroom
The study
The speed walker
sturdy built
She had a heart
of a magnet lover

Recharge to be reset (Elect)
Main course subject
lips met to
be picked
when the sun
goes down
electrified
Our sunset

Ms. Marrionette
The trick misery
chair
To be tricked like a
hollyhock around the
ticking sticks
and stones
clock
United Nation
security
council
being spied upon

Mr. Sherlock
holding his
unsharpened
pencil

Pop Eyes poppy flowers*
Sun-lit showers overload of hours
Over the amazing hills of
Ireland my pick
He takes you
the hand like a
stranger in paradise
like a dream lips like
divine shades the taste
cream demitasse

You're sleepwalking
He is Jaywalker
Jack climbs
up pins of the
cactus sting bean-stalk
Being pinned to the
election talk small talk
Moms' crock-***
He's the spacewalk
Taking my arm
Armstrong+__**
Proud but now its
the forgotten land
Needing a brighter future
(Night owls Neverland)
Nighthawks of
Disneyland bringing

(Ray of sunshine)

The more  I see you
the more I want you
As years go by love talks
The luck of the
Irishman shamrock walks
All pranks
Flinstones of bedrock
Going to the
boardwalk*

Coney Island Baby,
he is half-cocked
A piece of the rock
More like gridlock
The hat was flying
windy__City
Cool electric, please
stay calm don't panic
Your face was
the ice puck
Goldilocks Grandmas house
three bears acting like
someone's spouse
Dog of pugs big bark
The lights bright electric
Fell over her porridge dark
Robin red breast bird fly
His Mark cornstalk but why?
The heat intensity
Everlasting
chemistry
no drilling so
hot heat beat
blasting electricity

If I had to
pick something
Let me be well
Crystal ball met me sanity

Your husband has his
toothpicks you
are his lady
dental floss
You're both
better off with
prays of God
Never to be tricked
by the cross

I see the halo
Hello-Poetry
It's me___
Her words snug body wiggly
"Jello"
Halo
So white and he is hot
red Gallo
Don't touch my wine
Whats up with the
be  all mine
So distant am I well "Hello"
Tight-lipped just fine
Valentine hug playing
his cello

Coffee Inside me
Another dig
His grin vibrates me
Rattles me embraces
Such a high angelic
keys of his piano
My wings hold him
I fly him ride him
I am the "Halo"
My mug
Huge hug free's me
Does he love me
Time battles me

I worked so hard
All tagged to lose me
Please read me
Oh! Hell-her belly
Santas baby

All Hoo Hoo
Who is next text me
It ain't so him?Hum
The marriage of families
House arrest rolling
in the drums


Sea Inn__ Inconceivable
So belly washed
Ripley or not
believable, please
That's what you are

The halo little squirt
Big pint cookies
and creme Oreo
Men of all flavors
Miss Bella"Gelato"

Hello again Pluto
The hint Wine Gallo

Dinner bittersweet
Chewy mint me
I got a splinter Miss
Marrionette
The hush Sweet
"Charlotte"


Pancakes I am Inn
like a crepe Suzette
Sweet tea Carolina
The Inn inconceivable
He's indescribable
No refunds
His bad funds
returnable

She's Inspectable
He could feed her words
out of his dish
To be unaccountable

The lips red devil made me
do it, ****** Mary,
Chanel eyeliner she is so
unstable can't you tell
Throwing our best times
Like some silly rhymes
Giving into our worst times

Nickelback' he's the

"Quarterback"

Hello Poetry I am the
front cover give me
my star back
Please don't come over

One day creation
She's having a baby
Did I miss something
Professional manhunter
The Inn Hello Mr.
Highlander
Is someone going under?