Ignorance is bliss;
Sweeter than any kiss.
It’s an unfair kind of careless care.
This idea of something you missed,
Where?
A tear which never needed to be known,
There. In the mirror. Wipe away the smudges and it becomes visible,
Clearer. Shown in a smile that some would call naive. But you don’t because Ignorance is richer.
Your ears burn bright but you believe all is well, that all is right, so you continue your life like a phone in a theatre. Beating on the drum of negligence, perfectly pitching yourself as a heedless, harmonious heap; inauspiciously and ironically thinking ones self, misguidedly, meticulous. Inadvertently beautiful.
Ignorance is bliss.

When I place my heart
in hell,
I place it in your frying pan.

When we ****
I see the listlessness in your eyes,
and I'm not hurt,
because at least you're there,
and you're letting me enter
you
for
a
moment.

At least your letting me be a part of you,
and that's what I think *** is,
more than an entering of the body,
it's an entering of the soul.

So when I push my *****
I push
my hopes
my regrets
my hurtfulness
and my
******-sociological
*******.

Can you take me,
because I'm crazy
and I've got a few ****** up
idiosyncracies.

So when I catch
this love **** quick,
it's on a whole 'nother tip.

I might just fall in love,
and Natalie might come calling
again,
so don't be hurt
when I resume with her
and I chase every single girl
I could have loved
into the distance.

Don't be hurt,
because
misguidedly,
I think I'm meant to be with her.

You would cry like there was no end,
tears dipping in the broken smile
until they clung on the very outline.
We were sat in the morning shade,
sketching me with your lead
in hand; you see me. I’m empty.

Across the field the thickets were empty,
the crisped, golden summer would end
as though the teeming life were mislead.
The sun would fade like your smile,
then only a glimpse would escape the shade

and stay with me as a furtive outline,
inescapable in nightmares. This outline
leaves my bed covers breathless and empty,
waiting for your hand to guide. You lead.
I question whether this will end:
When will you stop taunting me with a smile
unable to slide, sketch and shade?

I’d try to broach the shadow of the shade,
yet my eye cannot catch you. Just an outline
of that torn heart is left in the smile
leaving the space more than empty
until I decide to have it end
by picking up the scattered bits of lead.

Across the golden fields I would lead,
looking back onto the folds of the shade.
The tall grass would make my gaze end,
leaving our tree grazing over the outline.
The field’s thickets were undoubtedly empty.
I head on home. I can still see the smile.

In our child I can see your smile,
as it was before you were misguidedly lead
and left me here feeling alone, empty.
I see on the walls how you used to shade,
how darkness clung to the drawing’s outline.
There I see that you knew light would end.

You always seem to end with the same smile.
I am the outline that you embrace with shades
until the skin is lead. You left me empty.

The abstract of your young mind
Has painted you into false conclusions
Tilting on highs and lows
Of denial and delusion
Having taken a bet to far
You know not what you say or do
Misguidedly triggering a..."forest of a tale"
Brought you under a misconstrue spell
It has you on a floating scale
In high def echo, in a state of confusion
I want the one I know best
Before he takes one more wrong mistep
Into the wilderness journey
That will fall dark into a hole
Locks them in
Make sure it's the choice you want to travel down
Cause it's a long lost lonely road
Where the traveling will limit your lens
Into a forest you'll go
And never come out again

Come Back Out Of The Forest
Into the posibility of...Hope


(upwc) by: Zenobia Lee/LadyZ710

These days, it’s getting harder for me to hear, though
  My hearing is perfectly fine.  

Words, speech, rhetoric, proclaimed in our
  Homes, schools, churches, media and lives,
  Filled with anger, pain, rage,
  Endless debating, name calling,
  Attacking, yelling, shouting,
  Drama and diatribes.

A new willingness sweeps the land, offering
  Gratuitous unfiltered honesty.
  A truth sport that calculatingly
  Cuts off at the knees,
  Sending the newly scarred and
  Wounded soul to walk away, with
  A knife in their back.

What unfulfilled need justifies
  This anger, frustration, rage,
  Blaming, shaming and finger pointing,
  And the creation of new effigies by endlessly
  Dissecting and parsing every word and phrase?

Have we become little more than
  Hurting people who hurt others?
  Are we just reacting in kind with a
  Pent-up frustration that has nowhere to go?

Are we really so fearful that
  Things aren’t going as they should, afraid
  We’ll never get what we want, or scared that
  We’ll never have what we need?
  
Could it be that we are unconsciously
  Caught in a vibration of drama, and
  Easy prey for the hidden plans
  And agendas of others?

Or, have we become slaves of an ego
  That willingly fills our minds with
  Unproven certainties to
  Give us what we do not have but want?

Maybe, strangely, we are
  Seeking a connection in the
  Only way we know.
  Hoping our shrill voices will
  Convince the universe that we matter,
  As we misguidedly attempt to make
  Some difference on our piece of earth.

This isn’t life!
  Yelling never convinces a single soul
  About the rightness of a cause or the
  Correctness of an action.  
  It only drives us further apart and
  Makes us dead to ourselves and each other.

Perhaps it's time to remember
  The wisdom of the ancients,
  Spoken so long ago.
  In compassion there is virtue,
  Blessed are the peacemakers,
  What is given is returned
  A thousand fold; and,  
  In the measure we judge,
  We shall be judged,
  Love the Gods and
  Do no harm.

These days, it’s getting harder for me to hear, though
  My hearing is perfectly fine.

Love is scary in the way it betrayed me
So casually, without warning
Wrapping its darling grip too tightly
Around my neck misguidedly
And pushing my face with still-gentle force
Into heavy water that stains trust with fear
It won't wash out soon.
Love sent me mouthfuls of watery kisses
To choke on in the pool
Unknowingly killing me.
But Love squeezed and played with my ruined body
And kept demanding more.
My broken body sunk to the bottom sometime after
Oh, poor Love,
It didn't know any better.

Down with the ship
This "titanic" was the greatest ship
The captain was forced to race to the end of it
In wealth's panic
Can you help me?
Reaching out
they slapped away my hand
"What's the matter?"
"Wasn't true care and being fellow Humans "
in which to "care" for "one" another
what it's all about?
I loved you, dearly.
Yes I know the true meaning of the word
or was the message too hard to understand and
constructed as "Those made by obsird?"
I'm going down with the ship.
I cannot help to make it stop
So watch as you leave me there at the helm
As for sticking by me through and through
was to you what did overwhelm?
Watch me sink.
Your "Titanic."
You sent the morse code
That read "Don;t Bother us"
As you dried, safely, with another
"Love" in which you trusted , wrongly,
and their "boatload  of tricksters"
Is this which you now sail on with, misguidedly,  down the road?

Its been two years without true feeling
of the earnest gesture of friendship

Misguidedly tucked away
Far from my one true solice

While life will endeavor to push us forward
While the most savory piece of life still hangs
To my waited breath