School was always humuorous to a degree in my opinion because of the underlying idea
that the more damaged you were, the cooler you were in the eyes of the rest of the school.
I have heard numerous conversations that began with something along the lines of, "Oh, you
think YOU got it bad, well my dad blah blah and my best friend blah blah and my life is hell."

I decided to get a little personal and share with you guys something I have never actually
told anyone in entirety yet. I am pretty sure the whole story is still only here in my brain.
I will, out of respect for these people, change their names.

It's October 31, 2012. It's about noon, and all of us sixteen to twenty-two year olds are just waking up.
Brianne woke up probably a few hours ago already to tend to her son, Aaron. He is adorable, one
and a half, blond hair, blue eyes. I have been living here for nearly two months. I am supporting her,
Aaron, and myself with food stamps. I get two hundred dollars a month to basically smoke **** and drink
on the government's budget. Trust me, I'm not proud of it either, and if I could I would pay it back.
Since Brianne is a single mother and an adopted child, she has a single-digit monthly rent (I was *******
baffled to hear this) and receives support from her foster parents. Basically, if I want to stay here forever
with absolutely no consequences save to miss out on a life of my own, I can.

Brandon is putting on clown make-up so he can troll the streets as a juggalo. I find this amusing as I always
liked to mess around with ICP fans, but he's a really cool kid so I let it go and I even help him perfect it.
I notice he has a bottle of Stolichnaya in his backpack and it's practically full. That, to me, is temptation.
I ask if he would mind me taking a few drinks here and there from the bottle and he says it's fine, so I proceed
to get a nice one p.m. buzz. It was always my favorite drunk, very light, and airy, almost like you're still asleep.
Something bogs you down, but it doesn't bother you, somehow it makes you lighter.

For the rest of the day, we hook up with a few friends, go out and trick or treat in the pouring rain, get soaked
and wait for two hours under an overpass while Brianne goes and gets her car. From there, we proceed home.

At this point, everyone is over at Breanne's and we're all making dinner and drinking beer and having a good time
(Aaron is with the grandparents tonight). I guess I started getting angry about the recent events (for about a month,
everyone in our group with the exception of Brandon have been slowly losing items...but they're obviously being stolen.
At a point, a few of us did some research and determined the only person who could possibly have stolen
a good deal of these things has to be Brandon) and I decided I was tired of sitting on the news waiting for no one to make
a move after a solid two weeks of being certain that we had our guy. So I called him out... and proceeded
to begin burning bridges slowly and very surely for the next few days. I am pretty sure a fight would have broken out
if Bri hadn't taken me into her room to relax. When I finally do, it turns out I woke up the upstairs neighbor,
her baby, and everyone in the house has left save for my friend Jeff and his girlfriend Marissa. This concludes night one.

I later learned that Brandon was not actually the person who was stealing from us (unless of course
he just happened to not get caught when we found out who had done most of it) and I feel bad for bringing the whole
thing up because I would have liked to stay in touch with him. We got along swimmingly and he actually did have
a lot of interesting things to talk about. Smart, nice, hilarious... Well, maybe he'll turn up one day.

The next morning, I woke up to find the house empty save for Jeff and Marissa in the next room, but where I am,
it simply appears empty. I don't know what happened but I intuit that I have been sleeping all night without
my girlfriend. This upsets me and I begin to weep like a confused child, which is exactly what you do when you're
helpless and too drunk in the brain to figure out how to pull yourself out of a helpless situation (trust me,
I own the handbook). Marissa walks in and begins to explain to me that I had scared her too much and she slept
on the couch and that she had left to go pick up her son. So I realize I need to calm down, but I can feel
Jeff is not happy with me in the slightest, considering he will not come and talk to me (this is extremely painful
because he is probably one of the best friends I have ever had, with a mind that vastly exceeds that of everyone
I have met save one other, and he's a different story). They leave and I decide to stay in the house all day.

This is a very bad idea. I stay home, watch re-runs of a show I have seen billions of times, and considering
that Brandon and I are no longer on good terms, like a complete *******, I drink the rest of his *****.

In walks Bri, it's around 7. She's not happy. She proceeds to tell me that the night before I asked out a friend of mine
and she said yes. And I was a bit shocked because I couldn't remember it at first. Then it all hit me.

A few days before, Aaron called me "dad." Now remember, this is not my child. I am dark, dark, dark, and she had this kid
about two years after we had any past relationship. I am extremely worried in my mind and I realize I am headed toward nothing.
That I am stagnant and can not even afford to go back to school. This scares me, so I drunkenly asked out Tanya.

Tanya...we had been friends for about five years, and I had tried to get with her so many **** times... she was like
one of those girls you see and you're instantly reminded of an anime character. Tall, thin, beautiful hips, perfect
proportions, lovely hair, eyes, voice, and a personality I can liken to a Disney princess/black metal lumberjack.
The kind of girl who has a tough exterior, but inside, she just wants someone to tell her everything is going to be ok.

After about two hours of pleading with Bri to let me stay, I finally send Tanya a message, and we hang out for the next
two days, whence I whisper in her ear that everything is going to be okay and we proceed to have quite passionate ***
for those nights, where I discovered the secret to making a woman ****** with my tongue (tip: if the underside of your
tongue isn't completely torn apart, you're doing something wrong). But alas, I could not stay.

This is the part I dreaded, because I know I have to go back to Jeff's house and ask him if I can stay there for a while.
And I got the answer I expected.

The words he used...

"I'm *******...extremely ******* at you, and disappointed." It was like a father saying it to you. And him and I
have a very interesting friendship built on such an extreme understanding that I knew exactly how badly I had been spiraling.
I began to leave and he gave me a slice of pizza, with that slight smile that told me "just go find yourself, we'll be fine."

I hobbled off into the night drunk, with one piece of pizza and all my food at Bri's, which could have lasted me another few days,
easing the transition into homeless. And it could have prevented a horrible occurance that took place the following afternoon. I
was crying, because I knew I was dying, but I didn't want to ask either of my parents for help, because this was the first time
I was out on my own and I was far too proud to give up and let the world make me its victim. So I walked...

Sixteen ******* miles...

To the next town. Took me all night because I was dodging traffic, easing into trees, avoiding on and off ramps, trying to stay
away from any police that may exist on the road. When I finally arrived in the next town (where I knew I may have one contact)
I decided to sleep until the morning came so I could have the energy to find my next venture.

It was five thirty am. I had 3 hours until sun-up, I had just walked enough to be burning, and there was plenty of whiskey in my veins.
I had left my sleeping bag with Tanya hours earlier, wishing in the park that I had not been so naiive as to think I would be allowed
back in the house. So I pulled out a pile of ***** clothes and put them over me like blankets, in some random corner of the local
park, under some bushes, hidden from cold and sight, with great hope...

Fifteen minutes pass. My eyes shoot open. I am freezing. The sweat has dried and frozen to my body. This is hell.

I grab my things and with the worst effort I can ever remember myself mustering, I drag myself to the toilet.
When I open it, the first thing I check for is cleanliness. It's spotless. I am so relieved. I sit in the corner of the room,
which my knees to my chest, head in my hands, wrapped in a leather jacket I had gotten from Jeff (ha, he really is my
guardian angel, though he would laugh to hear it).

I catch winks, occasionally looking up to check if the sun is rising. When it finally is, I get up, change my clothes (I had
ONE clean set of clothing and it had been rotting with the rest in the backpack) and immediately head to a thrift store where
a family friend is working.

On my way there, I notice in a little parking lot near the store a sight I had never actually come across but I always thought
would be the most amazing luck, and it was timed in such a spot in my life that it was the ultimate miracle...and a curse in
disguise.

In front of my eyes (this miracle appeared in my path as I was walking looking down, so it startled me) was the worst possible thing
for me: A half finished fifth of Smirnoff, and a half smoked pack of Marlboro 100 Reds. I open the pack and sure enough, the celophane
protected every cigarette inside from any water damage. I am ecstatic. This is not only amazing, but highly unlikely.

So I down the bottle in one go and take the rest of the smokes with me.

When I arrive at the thrift shop, it turns out I am there on a day when my potential savior is not working, so I get her number from the clerk
and head over to a payphone and realize... I have no money. So I decide to go on a quest for dropped pocket change.

Before I even leave the parking lot, I see a young man, no older than 23, sitting on a nice red classic-style Corvette and he's
reading William S. Burroughs. So naturally, I decide to strike up a conversation with the young man. Turns out he's the nicest guy
and his name is Jordan. So him and I got together and decided to go out for a game of disc golf (some may not know what this is;
Imagine frisbee but with a golf theme, so you need to get from a tee pad into a basket. Really fun, centering, and extremely popular
with potheads, Californians, beer-drinkers, and hippies) and before we go, he asks if I would like to snag a few beers first.

I tell him a piece of my story and he can tell I am down on my luck and broke so he decides to help me out. He buys us both some beer
and we proceed to disk.

Turns out he's an ex-****** and has been through quite a bit of hell himself, so we find that we're in a good position to help each
other make some better decisions in life. After the game, we go over to a payphone and he gives me money to call my friend.

Buzz (this the only name I am not changing because her name is ******* badass) answers the phone and unfortunately informs me that
though she would take me in any day of the year, she just moved in to a house with one older lady she takes care of, and its a single
bedroom apartment, so there is just no way it can work.

So I go back to his car and tell him the news, and he says he thinks he may be able to put me up for a few days until I can sort
everything out. We go back out to the store and grab ourselves a fifth of *****.

We end up in the park playing music, talking, performing standup for one another, and I begin to realize I am drinking too fast,
so I try to ease back a little. He was playing a version of a Radiohead song I had never heard before

"Everyone this way. Okay, get your hands against the wall. Spread your legs. Don't move."
The doors clanking, some ******* won't shut up in the next cell over.
More slamming of doors, someone rubbing my body all over trying to find my knives, no doubt.
And my AK 47 I conceal, and my ****, and my ... oh ****, I really did have **** on me.

"Move forward. Turn around. Alright, go to bed."

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------

"Get up. Come on, slowly... There you go. There's a few more coming in so we got to get you to another cell."

Clank, clank...

"Pick a bed."

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------

Something is wrong. This bed is not covered. There is no comfort. It's just a mat. And I have no pillow. This is not a house
of any sort, my bag isnt what I am sleeping on. Something is very wrong here.

I am in jail. Oh of course.

I know the answer before I hear it, but I ask anyway: "What are my charges, ma'am?"

"Drunk in public."

-------------------------------------------------------­------------------------

I'm about thirty miles or so North of inner Seattle. Not a bad place to be. I'm working for a Safeway. It's somewhere around
the first of June. I receive word that Bri has been on ******. And I may have left at a crucial time in her life thinking
only of myself, but I needed to go somewhere I could be productive. Yet my decision left her in a position where she turned
to hard drugs...

I can't help but feel I am to blame. I am listening to the dull, stupid words of my ex boss, Rod, who is telling me
that even though I may feel like I need to help her, there is nothing I can do for her, so I should bury myself in my work
instead. He tells me this in about six hundred different ways before I leave the room after twenty minutes. Well great.
I may have no focus here at work today, but at least I killed almost a half hour of the day just listening to someone
*******.

I am at a loss of what to do here, but I eventually get a hold of her, and after a long time not talking, we come to
somewhat of a closure, and she is beginning to sober up herself. I realize we were both in incredibly hard times, and I still
wish with all my heart there could have been some way I could have helped her raise that boy and stayed and been her
love, and at the same time, still go to college, and progress and get a good job...but I was in a small Northern California
town. There was nothing left, all the old shops were out of business. It was time for me to move on then, and we have
all seen better days for it. She looks incredible these days by the way. She lost an insane amount of weight, and I know
a lot of it had to do with the drugs, but if she truly is sober like she says she is, she'll be getting much better.

A few weeks ago 3 people I used to know and hang out with died in the span of a week. It was a terrible tragedy, and I have been
thinking back on all the names of people I used to love very, very much before they got lost in some way.

There's Lorne Holly, who killed himself after a few weeks of detoxing from crank.

Layla Harmon, who died in a car crash, blunt head trauma, with a drunk driver (I have a tattoo for this, I will never drive drunk).

Heavy Eagle, who killed himself after years of drug problems.

Chaz Lipman, who died in a car crash as well.

Ren Rain, who I am still not sure about...

And of course, Tray Beraldi, who was my closest friend's cousin... I wish I were there to mourne with him...

Last night I got a text from my best friend, who said he couldn't sleep and he barely eats anything anymore, and he feels like his throat
is going to explode, and he cant swallow and his neck is killing him constantly. He has been this way for a year, and he is talking constantly
about getting a gun and blowing his head off. And no one believes him because he constantly talks about it because he is in so much pain.
No doctor can diagnose him so far, he has no idea what's wrong with him, he's been tested all over the place, he has no hope, he's barely
cligning and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold on.

All I really want to say is

Lord? What I have done? I don't pray, I never pray, I don't even know who I would pray to. But WHAT ELSE DO I HAVE TO DO?!

I bring myself across hell and I pull myself from the worst depression I h

A phoenix is...
Extended ash, through unending life,
Darkness clouds the happiness of distant days, as eternal life
might be cursed by the flames of hell, yet she is always resurrecting,
Like a spectator, she watches life rise and fall, alike day and night,
Comparable to the smoke which thins it's trail as it travels into the distant sky, yet never truly dying never truly disappearing, living on.
Such is the fate of one who is imperishable, it is alonely existence,
Scared to bond but filled with hope she keeps her head up high,
Because the majestic, azure sky is always a source of hope and bliss,
This makes her fight on, although this battle will never end,
Believing there is a future, in which she someday will rest happily,
Misery and hatred burn up in her flames, which then fall into the darkness of a deep sin which has found its occurance in the long past,
As her body scorches into a blaze of immortality, recurring memories soar, illuminating the land and guiding her through the long night,
Even if all what is lost can be found again, it will perish, transiently.
For now all what is left, is but immortal smoke.

~ Umi

Saturn Venus & Mars

If you live in the Northern Hemishpere of this universe,
go out any night this week an hour or so after sunset,
and look at the western sky to catch a planetary triple play
starring Venus, Saturn and Mars. The first thing skywatchers
will see — weather permitting — is the planet Venus,
slightly north of west, in the constellation Gemini.
Look for Gemini's twin first magnitude stars,
Pollux and Castor, just above Venus. As the sky gets darker,
the planet Mars can be spotted to Venus' left as it appears
in the constellation Leo very close to the bright,
first magnitude star Regulus. Further still to the left,
will be Saturn shining in the western part of the constellation Virgo.
The sky map below shows how to spot all three planets.
Venus, Mars and Saturn are all currently appearing,
slightly north of the ecliptic, the path the sun appears to follow
over the year, shown in green in the sky map. This occurance inspired
the poem that follows.


Good morning my love, hope that you slept well,
while you were away my dear, all the night sky fell,
the only stars that remain, are the stars in my eyes,
when I gaze upon your face, the tears my heart cries,
for I can only dream a dream, of you in my world,
and wish that I could kiss, those sweet lips so curled,
I also wish that you, would think of me this way,
holding you in my arms, is my wish each and every day ....

Gomer LePoet...

slight music
quite instrumentals slither through the space

now an ethereal silence and a curled, gnarled hand rest at the table
weather-worn pockmarked face twitch
a common occurrence
a scene worthy of a masterful painter
the air sighs, not in sound but in feeling
it is demure, languid,
a seamless bond of hunched figure and wispy breaths
a heart feels light and hollow with pulsating winds surrounding it
a man's hide tingles, prickles
pores gently widen in anticipation

a boxed room
a shackle room
dark, yet for the dim lantern
and a speckling of pinpoints in ever shifting pupils
patterns shift with tightening skin, hackles raised
billowing smoke against snarling and jolting

our West is not kind

a child stumbles with its chittering and chattering, back into its hole
an equalizer delicately rocks upon the floor
hot in its despondence and billowing smoke barrel
the metal becomes cold, uncaring; what despair was impacted upon it has left, as is the same with all objects subject to human emotion

Old blood sleeps in the shackled room
with chattering mumbling children in their holes

life is but glorious process, while we all wish for results
how deplorable

Redness creeps onto my cheeks
Liquid salt forms in my eyes
Causing my vision to blur

Childlike sounds escape my mouth
And I can't stop them
Because it's become too much

You knock on my door and ask what's wrong
But you don't know
I'm crying because of you

You can't get away with treating people like this
He doesn't deserve this
He deserves better than you

Sometimes I see things
It's a rare occurance
because I don't mean to see them
I mean to look away from something
else.

Sometimes I notice
But only for a split second
but I don't usually remember
until hours later

Today I noticed something
It was a rare occurance
I didn't mean to see them
I meant to look away from something else

Today I noticed
But only for a split second
I didn't remember
until now

Today I shied away
From what was in front of my face
and I noticed from across the room
a pair of eyes
and what a sight they were to see
I wonder if they had seen
the pair of green
looking at their sky.

this is my promise, my fear I will reveal
the act of love and *** alike is agony, I will conceal
no man, no woman, no soul I have made assurance
my dwelling and trembling sexuality and love have remained a horrible occurance
I want to love and kiss my love from mouth down to the waist
but years of loneliness and drunken embrace leaves me with limited taste
to glide my body across his sweaty chest
would rid me of my nervous mindset and lay my fear to rest
yet no man, no woman, no soul I have encountered with true admiration
this spirit I bare and have grown to like is stuck with a fierce aspiration
to **** this silly contemplation of whether to step forward or keep quiet
not allowing myself dual satisfaction for I mindlessly follow an unlawful diet.

Are we all ******* blind?!
How did we all fail to see the
apocalypse in it's twisted occurance
Detinating life as we know it
All I see are Zombies
All that's left are zombies!
Look there! That girl walking
Missing half her life
Half dead-trapped
no real human left behind her eyes
Walking aimless to her desk
To her future
Look at that zombie over there!
Drowning himself in alcohol
Killing himself again
Just to feel alive
Though simultaneously
wasting...away....


I better do the same
Hide the life so I don't get eaten
and zombiefied myself
I must survive this apocalypse

Trying
        To

           Survive

moving forward & forward & forward

I have become a zombie.

My definition of truth is: An action synonymously described as it happened, within this barrier of admission, an image portrays a substance, occurance, or incident. This social term can and will be deviated for manipulation, self interest, and out of blatant ignorance. In society truth is hardly colloquial in politics, media, and law;  recognizing that it is used to manipulate and persuade for power, control, or materiallity. There are cases in which deception is the best choice in the longevity of a subject larger than ones self, a substance of this will and shall never occur in a mindful, intellectual, and adept utopia. Sadly, in the global aura we see as today; we lack faith, trust, and ubiquity in fault of karma, the perpetual domino effect of deception, and the ignorant facade of physical dominance. From this computer screen, the pants you are wearing, and the mind you hone are all subject to the absent, mistreated, and altered reality of honesty versus deception.

I see the moon through my smoke tinted glasses
It's crescent shape caressing the early morning sky
Before I went out, all of my thoughts were of classes
Now, returning, I am filled with delight
The simple occurance
Of the Sun silhouetting the rock
Brings me joy
As I draw inside
Life is but a collection of experiences
And this one won't be easy to forget
As I stayed up all night
The grandeur of nature seems to beget
The beauty in little things
The sorrow in the world
All at once emotions hit me
And my thoughts begin to be twirled

My eyes began to hide as we retired conversation.
My eyes began to hide as the night grew tired
And we’d lie next to eachother like two lines on the road
And I didn’t want to open my eyes for fear that you had snuck from the covers
And then suddenly you were singing like the call of a nightingale.
My eyes and mind were deluded into believing the occurance of the following events.

We sat together like two birds on a branch.
My breathing was heavy like the tree being supported by the ground.
We sat together as the wind carried loose limbs and leaves to the next town.
The storm was coming but I wanted to stay a little longer.
The storm was coming we must set flight!
But I did not want to separate for fear you’d be gone forever.
But I did not want to be blown and beaten for the Maine ***** grabs.
The storm was coming, so I left my ambitions to be carried with the limbs and leaves
And I left my nightingale alone in the night, to fight with the Nimbus as the storm carried on.
My eyes began to uncover from blankets, I felt your existence inches away.
My eyes were mislead and I rolled right on over and went back to bed.

History is not
simply
the dates
and battles
buildings
and famous names
associated
merely with an
idea
or occurance.

History is not
years
lumped into
eras -
not general greatness
or the greatness
of generals.

It is
the wool
lovingly spun
by a mother’s hand
and stained
by a full day’s
honest labor.
It is the
pealing
of laughter
and church bells
in an untouched
meadow
of flowers
wild in every sense.

It is
stolen moments
in a hayloft
or on the bank of a river.
It is the heat
of the sun
beating down
on the shoulders
of a man
doing everything he can
to make it.

History
is in all
the moments
of lives
of people -
simply
people.

The world may change
but humanity is
constant.

do you still think it was real what we felt
or are you embarrassed by its very occurance?
do you accept it as victory or defeat?
did you kiss anybody on new years eve?
you must type my number into your phone
wanting to hit call but then you don't
or are there pages of words written for me
that break you a little to know i'll never read?
if you can't sleep at night what the **** do you do?
do you wonder if we both have an intamacy issue?
was it depression or was it just me?
drawing lines and measuring distances so we couldn't be real
if i told you right now that i am sorry
i don't know if you'd respond 'me too' or 'don't bother'
i used to know you inside out
now i have no new memories to store in my head
it's funny how i worried about breaking your heart
and completely forgot that i had my own to tear apart
still no amount of jager makes me tell you i miss you
so either i don't or i'm still the coward you fell in love with

You were raised to become a shield
While I was raised to become a sword
A shield and sword have different roles to play
However, they have one thing in common
But you'll need to figure what that is by yourself

Although you won't find a quick answer soon
You will eventually find it one day
Because we have a long journey ahead of us,
Until then don't go off dieing on the battlefield before me
Since you are a shield who protects other
While I'm a sword that cuts a path for others

As each passing days go by
Our emotions, our feelings start to fade away slowly
We have seen many blood spilt before our eyes
Now it has become a daily occurance in the world we live in
But one day it will disappear in the near future we all seek to have

As the war draws to a close,
We also met our fateful day at last
Since that day changed everything
For you, me, our comrades and friends

Before we realized what had happened
You and I were the last ones left
But as you were a shield who protects others
I chose to fight in front of you
I became the sword that fought for our future

As I become fatigue and start to lose momentum
I soon find myself being struck by an arrow through my heart
My life starts to fade as I gaze up at the rainy sky
Only to realize it was your face full of tears falling on my cheeks
I had wished to have been with you in your future, but I guess that I can't now

Now days, weeks, months and even years have pass since that day
You are still full of happiness mixed with sadness in the life you live in
But as you tilt your head up towards the sky with a smile on your face
I look down at you with a smile in return

As you continue to live on with your life as it is
I'll always be with you
Then, now and into the future I'll be there for you
Because it was my dream to be with you

It was a plainly written script offering little explanation into the intricacies of life after death.

To quote

"For every new beginning there is a new ending"

Perplexed, I took it upon myself to attempt to explain such vagueness in a way only a poet can.

What follows is to be known as:

The Prime Covenant

As I stand on the thresholds of death
I can see the landscape of my life
Spread out against the horizon in frames
Within one I see my birth
Kicking and screaming as I met the light
(Curious because, in life, this moment was fast forgotten following the burst of new experience)
To take in the sights of my mother
So proud to have her only child
That she clung to me through joyful tears
Then my fresh eyes caught my father
Shaken to the core after experiencing
The recreation of his own birth
For I was like him and he was as me
(In between all these new wonders rose my first breath, which was so sweet that even the frame of the memory shuddered from excitement)
Through it all I see the memory of love
That can only be found in lifes first moment

From the corner of my peripherals
A new frame caught my eye
Where I stood for the first time
Following months of incessant beckoning
From my parents to abandon the crawl
That had led me away from infancy
Flashes of fear and pure joy mingled together
Leading to my first step
Which led to another
To another
So rapidly I couldn't control the momentum
FREEDOM!
And then I was running
(The fastest toddler alive if you ask my father)
My legs taking me far and wide to explore
The wide world around me as the frame shifted

Orienting itself into a picture of me
And my first favorite tree
A magnolia standing taller than any God
A child could hope to fathom
But also small enough a mountain
To not stay my freshly found love of movement
Until I was at the top
Looking down at a world wider than comprehension
As flicks of terror stained the frame red
When the screams of my mother
Snapped me back to the reality
That I was a toddler in a tree
My tree

Driven away by panic the frames spun forward
Like that button on old school casset players
Comprised of two sideways triangles
Where every frame appeared frozen
While also moving
Until I sickened of the pace and settled
On a frame seemingly dark
(Bits of angry red and sad grey completing the new patina)
That revealed a new memory of forgotten times
A time where tears prevailed for all accounted
There stood my father, frozen in the door
(The screen partially open to allow his head to poke through)
And my mother, hand on my arm in a vice
Incoherent through sobs of lost love
As she dragged me away from the door
My arms flailing as I made a futile effort
To reconnect the two
...just two more steps...
Then I was in the car
(An old Ford pento if the frame is to be believed)
Reversing away from the driveway that was my home
From my first moments to my first tree
I wailed in what seemed agony
At my father's outstretched arms
Protruding from a screen door
Illequiped to hide his tears

Within the frames I became lost
Neither direction nor time having meaning
(For what end can be more traumatic then divorce for an innocent five year old?)
Here and there were glimpses into yet more
Beginnings lost to even more endings;
My first day at school...
The death of my grandfather...
My first kiss...
The end of my first friendship...

Friendship

The frame broke my distress and stole my focus
"David, my mom said it was alright if you stay the night at our house!"
I was excited
(Finally a reprieve from traumatic rememberances)
He said "Alright, I'll tell my dad and be over after school!"
He was excited
(His mom had died the year before due to something called 'overdose' and was constantly sad so it felt good to see such life come into him)
The frame grated into place a few hours later
My mother stood in the kitchen of our small trailer
Crying as she told me "I have something to tell you."
(I was eight and seeing her cry made me cry)
"What's wrong mommy?" I asked
She said "honey, we can't afford to live here any longer, your aunt is on her way to pick us up."
(According to the frames this was the fourth such occurance)
"But I invited David over like you said to stay the night!" I pleaded
To no avail as my aunt pulled up to take us away
From my first friendship

Distraught, I raged at the horizon
"Why do you toy with me so?!
You tease these memories of beginnings
Only to destroy them with endings!"
As if in reply the frames shook,
An internal earthquake occurred
And there she stood
My wife
Frozen in the frame of the first time we met
A memory I could never forget
As beautiful as a late afternoon sunset
Fixated, I took her in my arms
Refusing the frame to let go
Holding on through the fast forward
Of our first kiss...
The first time I met our kids...
Our first argument...
To my last breath...
"Though there may be endings to some beginnings, my love for you will never die...
I...
Love...
You..."

The frames ended similar to the last reel of film from an antique video
The light across the horizon faded
Yet I still held her frame
...never to let go...

You see, the Prime Covenant is the deal we make with ourselves upon entering this life.

We agree to feel love as equally as we agree to feel loss.

Life after death is the reward for making this pact so that even in the darkness that follows the light, the most wonderful beginning will always be with you beyond every end.

I've always found the storms that come from hurricanes so beautiful, the power they bring yet the elegance that accompanies it. You can feel a rush of what can only be described as a combination of hope bringing adrenaline charges and total agony filling fear. So much changes during the rain falling, wind slamming, lifhtning striking, thunder clapping moments. A sudden occurance of peace followed by a grand finale nothing could ever prepare you for. For a few brief minutes you think the worst has passed. Those aeconds of innocent bliss can be the best feeling you have ever had. What follows though blind sides you harder than any 300 pound line backer ever could. It hits you in the deepest pits of your stomach, twisting your guts until you wish they would just get ripped out. Those hours and days after though, those are the times you realize just how horrible the aftermath really is and all of the sudden all that hope and happiness you found from the beauty of it all disappears. All you can feel is an eternal emptiness building, ppuring out of you. At least with a hurricane others can see the pain, the devistation, the horrific sights of the aftermath. When it comes to my storm though I'm the only one who can feel it. There was a time when I thought you were going to be my paradise. The thing that saved me from the constant storms I have thrashing around my head. Turns out even paradise isn't safe from the beautiful destruction of a hurricane. You have moved on to give another the peace you once brought me while I sit here trying to put myself back together. Your name might not be Katrina, but it may as well be.

time is but an illusion
it was made into a concrete concept
so man could comprehend it logically
but time has no logic to it
time is nothing
yet time is everything
without the occurance of time,
things would be the same as they were
this time of year two years ago
back when things first began
between he and i
and its odd to think that
that almost 730 days i ago
i didnt even know who he was
and now
i cant ever seem to forget about him
Maybe with each passing day
As the clock ticks away
Time will bring us back
To where we once began

I might have to wait eternity,
But I've got time.

Today the rain pours
As I wait for my shift to begin I sit in my car
My hair is wet, I'm nursing a deep wound
Which will become yet another scar

I cracked open the window to my heart
Ever so slightly
Reluctantly to allow a warm island breeze to roll in
Instead I experienced a turbulent wind

I let my guard down like never before
I opened the door
Thinking we were something more

Now I sit confused and disheveled
Face full of tears
An emotional flood
Perhaps it was I who misunderstood

You see, I took your word as true
Rememer, those three little words you spoke?
"I love you"
Empty now they seem
Extrodinary how a heart changes so quickly
I'd like to make this break clean

The last words spoken by you the other night
Do you remember the ones after the fight?
"This is me giving up for now
I'll talk to you tomorrow babe, I love you
Good night"

Those words gave me false reassurance
As these arguments are a regular occurance
You'd tell me time after time
"Babe we'll be fine"
Why on earth did I believe that line?

My own stupidity
Has gotten the best of me
As I delusionally imagined how truly loved by you I'd be

As with protocol you told me to go
So I gave you your space
That is our bi-weekly flow
But you changed entirely
You didn't call like you said you would

Colder than the deepest ocean
You tell me now,
"We're not together so what does it matter?"
To this I reply "I love you"
And then your harsh words cut me like a knife
"I don't, we are done"
You love me no longer
The heartless tone said all I need to know

I don't understand what happened but it did
The trust I worked so hard to release to you after months
Is shattered and jagged on the floor

Some people go through lovers like water
But that is not me,
I let people in very selectively
When I love, I love truly and deeply
Sometimes months, even years, go by
Before I'll look a man in the eye

I know with time, I'll be fine
You'll move on and forget my face
Rise to fame and bring pride to your family's name
But I'll always keep my door open just the same

So for now I sit and wipe away my tears
Recounting the steps as I reel from the shock
Of something seemingly small that has ended it all
I have to put on a happy face
As I enter the workplace

The mind is a fragile glob of a thing
central command /
controls to the push buttons.

...and there is a reason
why the surgeon-generals
scientist's with their lab-rats
                  witch-craft
place warning labels
on cigarettes / monoxide fumes
cancer wafting in

and reasons why
the educational systematic d.a.r.e.
warns of the downfall
having anti-drug
show and learn
with actual footage
         films about enbibed catastrophe
black and white Ansel shots
needles / puncture holes / junkies

(show them,
they do not wince
they've become tolerant,
immune to their everyday occurance
like morning coffee's
little push.)

Slides on red tape ******-scenes
angry D.A.D.D.'s
S.A.D.D. mothers
radical vehicular
Mr. A Anonymous
involuntary
man-slaughter
Non Applicable
Under the influence
teaching
prevention
to the already numb

Although experience
is the best kind of good teacher
to be a youth in our day

is to be impetuous
capricious
typical
naïve  
mistaken,
even grievous

when i wish now
since from before
the voices that whisper

in my head
my name
tell them to
close the door

that keeps them out

behind
them...

This is why I write
For times like this
When I have no idea
And you don't let me in
I'm left guessing
Out in the open
Confused and lost
Worried and saddened
This is why I write
When I don't know what else to do
Your happiness fleeing your body
Leaving this anger
For what reason I do not know
This is why I write
To let you know
When you won't listen
Its not just random occurance
On why I do it
This is why I write

Cuz I know that a mind is a terrible thing sometimes… the way it can turn on ya…. I sit here tryin not to judge…  but  can’t help but see in the corner of my eye… and oh no… tell myself that I don’t … see her face… all screnched up… lookin like a car done parked on her foot… all screnched up… lookin like she got a helluva Charlie- Horse in her left *** cheek… as she tilts her head and digs in her scalp… diggin like she tryin to get through… to herself… in some newly discovered way… and keep on diggin… and keep on diggin…  til she finally come up with somethin… and right there… in our too crowded office… she… with relish… and with gusto… in slow motion seem like…  deposits her newly found treasure… Into. Her. Mouth… and with a loud and wet POP… then with a satisfied sigh… finishes her memo like this is nothing... no thing at all... a regular occurance… leavin me right now starin straight ahead… writin a poem... and "blessin-the-goddess"glad... that it ain’t me... partakin of… untraditional snacks… cuz life can be rough and cold like sidewalk concrete in winter… and if you hit the wrong way... sidewalk concrete in winter... somethin just might break... and obviously there is a... not so readily obvious problem here… so I decide that… I ain’t one to judge…  just act like I don’t see… and  finish my own **** memo…

Most of us can feel,
A disturbing pain of
Negative empotive ache
In some form
In our lives.

This can happen to us so much.
Eventually you may be
Annoyed, bored, deppressed
From that disturbing ache.

Than we say:
"Life is painful, boring, bad."
Don't be worried,
Anybody can think these any time.

But it is neccessary to be aware about
Occurance of reasons of our hellish lives.

Than we have so much excuses,blames
Such as system, human nature, devil.
But I am asking to you beyond excuses,
What do you want?

Than a list comes,
Long or short.
But there is a common point in the list.
It is, when they happen;
Your wish is became true.
We name this situation "good".

Also there are,
The negative versions of willing.
Not wanting.
We call their subject "bad".

You may say that;
Good and bad are relative.
But the fact is,
Their objects are relative.

You may realize that good and bad,
Having certain definitions.
Therefore what is good and evil are
Certainly absolute.

According to definitions,
You want good,
You don't want bad.
Very simple.

Accordingly;
If you are completely good,
As well as away from all bad,
You get all what you want.
Because, all your will would be
Completely true as compass!

You may think that
We also want pleasure and happiness,
We also don't want pain and distress.
But these are
Emotions positive and negative.

Positive ones include good.
Negative ones include bad.
The same can applies to your thoughts.

Then the question comes,
How is this relating to
Our dishliking to our lives?

When we say bad to something,
It means that you don't want that.
When we say good to something,
It means that, you want that thing.
So when we don't like our lives,
We find it bad.

What we say to something is,
Label showing that thing.
Bad is object of not wanting,
Good is object of wanting,
According to our saying accordingly.

So when we find the life,
Detesting, really bad, so so boring;
We just don't want the life.
That's why people **** themselves,
Because of suffering aspect of the life.
It is really disturbing fact,
So lets ask, how to avoid this.

The way is to become good fully.
I don't mean to be good person only.
It is to be good wholly wholly wholly
In everytime, every action!

It seems impossible though.
Because even we strive to good,
Big flows of energies
From outside and inside
Are pulling us to bad itself
Without any remorse!

That's why you would feel bad
When battery of your phone
Dies right now!

All these shows that,
Being good is not enough to be
Good wholly!

We need to have;
A blow of power,
River of persuasion,
Bomb of manipulation,
Flood of love and love
And more.

An effect making you
Feel like a god in the heavens!
It's not being the god as The Father.
It's feeling like being a god,
In order to create your wellness!

If you know the fact that
You can change what you
Think, wish, do!
Your only need is a little push
To the heaven of good!

I call this push the nectar.
Because it feeds the gods of Olimpus.
It makes their lives super well!

I am Lio, the nectar giver.
Through my waterfall of poems
You will understand better
What I am giving.

In a short time,
You will experience, live
Or even love if you want.

The nectar is my pill to bad in you.
I hope it will make you all well.
But I am really sure about that,
The nectar will be a glitter of good
In one minute of your life.

I hope this glitter to be the
Dawn showing your greatness!

I saw a seed
Become a rose
Shouted from the throat
In inneficacious tones
I watched the thorns

And hiding in a cavern nearby
Way up on the side of a mountain
All I wanted was your life
All I'm given was your lies

I heard the bloom
Occurance too soon
These thorns were sharpened knives
Im clutching to my side
You watched me bleed

And hidden in a thicket
In this forest without trees
All i wanted was your love
All you gave me was your loss

Stood alone in a field of ever change
The others seem to catch on and evolve
But to me I'm happy staying put, stuck in my ways, a little strange
Liking a risqué joke, a mild poke, a barrel now sadly broke
Words we now cannot use
But arise in slapstick, a rarely lit fuse, mosty after a wee drop of *****
Kids now think we are all the same skin
As if nothing happened in 10,000 years and its all thrown in the bin
And if you disagree, have a voice, have a choice, you now live in sin
For being told how to live is an everyday occurance
Speed limits, different cynics, all told to coinline with this BBC
For our thoughts are now banished, no longer to be free
And sadly, people are beginning not to see
That you do actually stand alone in life, leaning into the breeze
For we all are really,
just,

A Lone Tree

JJB

White dots stood out on dark blue silk, wrapped the delight whimsical,
cute, adorable, much better than kilt,
the slightest gentle touch they tickle.


Vines, jet black sturdy healthy,
dancing carelessly when the wind blows steady,
Elegance comme il faut at the top of the world,
A tempest romance as the ravens twirl.


Black holes enthralls as emerald grey fields,
Demands submission of those dare gaze,
The best is seen in those who yield,
A beauty silent attention appreciates.


Along the journey lay a spiritual hill,
Breath of life swirl through it with zeal,
High and pointy, Uluru bound insecure,
But tis a spiritual hill that emanates allure.


The crater below, softly, ever dormant,
Its gentle kiss enchants the lust of many,
Encouragement eruptions a common occurance,
A well of life the volcano's true identity.


Etched on pearl white clay, treble and bass,
the sound of music sings the tune of grace.
Confident and strong the flow of feminity,
Do not mistake its strength for masculinity.

I'm having such terrible thoughts.

I feel so feeble in this world. indeed there's something special about me, perhaps I'm putting more emphasis on the special.

but the loneliness is creeping in, the empty gets bigger. people leaving me without explanation is becoming more of a daily occurance than a rarity.

i want to be fulfilled with love and happiness but instead I'm full of despair and pain.

the noticeable smile I used to wear fades fast now. I look around looking for people looking at me, just to make sure I'm still there.

if there is a god, why did he make this so painful? why did he give me this sad life?
why did he have people plant roots in my life only to rot inside me?

why did he leave me with so many grudges? why did he make me a spirit with no soul?

While it is undeniably a tragedy,
there is beauty still seen by me.
In the loss
eyes are now crossed
they are tossed
to the real boss.
Please put down the mace,
I am not a disgrace.
There is no need for war,
I will give you more.
I will be good
let me have the hood.
I will make you proud
while never being loud.
A pretty occurance
as opposed to an ugly disturbance.
The sweet release
while life comes to a cease.