Yes I am supremely angry
Yes I am agonizingly hurt
There is injustice everywhere quite frankly
Women are forced to constantly be alert

Yes I weep tears that could fill oceans
Yes I am filled with racking sobs
Cries of no are ignored with continued motion
Predators are attacking like wild dogs

Yes I fight with the spirit of a crusader
Yes I want radical change for the future
Because I don't want to wait until later
Allowing more girls to be butchered

No I won't laugh at your **** jokes
No I won't tolerate your ignorance
The piece of my life that has been stolen is not a hoax
And I will continue to make a difference

No I won't give up
No I won't back down
I'll continue the movement and it's buildup
I refuse to allow hate to cause me to drown

You'll remember my name
You'll put the face to the actions
Because I'll call out who's to blame
Demanding significant reactions

Night thoughts
Where do they come from nocturnal musings and dreams I have done my best to push back deaths pain if even only an inch that is a gain for you a little bit of space a touch of comfort if you ask me what do you know about pain. In a six year span I lost my only living sister four years later her only daughter two years after that a mother that I never had to lose in the first place. Now for some of the names I know personally Jack Jeffrey Jack Cloe Buck and Josh, Howard Greg’s wife’s dad big Tom **** P. Jim M. Homer Rick there are others that read this I don’t know your loved ones but it written for you as well because God knows. So many times people ask well why God doesn’t do something. I can’t answer fully and I surly don’t want to give some small folksy half hearted attempt. I will answer a couple of ways God hates death he could have said anything in any language but the first thing he said that would be destroyed is death he didn’t create it it is the unalterable fact that springs from sin he dealt with it I will speak about it in a minute. Another part of the answer I said this is unreachable Why did Socrates die after drinking Hemlock he didn’t have to yes he did truth left him without a choice God is the same way sin demands death truth for Socrates was death rather than betray the very men that killed him he willing to his spirit the hemlock was sweet as life giving water. He became a part of truths everlasting fountain Jesus circumvented death all of our sins are bitter to him let me relate these stories and drive the point to the deepest level. The first one is personal my wife and I went from the bay area eighty miles south to Monterey California we spent the day at the sea shore and our final stop was at fisherman’s Warf four to five hours later Mexican gang bangers pulled up to two young female students from the Presidio and shot them dead then went over on Fremont street in Sea Side shot down a middle age Mexican woman animals don’t have a race true to the predators code everyone is fair game. This was all done so they could earn their gang colors. For two and a half years I lived in and out of Monterey and Sea Side after getting out of the service I had a painting job on the Presidio. It was personal but this came even closer to home I told my cousin if you go hunting you have about fifty percent chance ending up the prey in someone’s gun sight. Two months pass a kid up the street on Blacow Rd I Lived on this street for twenty five years all he was doing was pedaling his bicycle a shot rings out broad day light he is gone his crime his mother country flies a Mexican flag. Two nights later a mother misses her ride to work she is scared of the dark streets her teenage daughter walks with her it’s two in the morning it’s just unjustified fear at a corner in the better part of Fremont a car pulls up along the mother and daughter the human thing would have been can I give you a lift this was no human the monster picked up a fallen limb and beat them both to death as they screamed to their family in the cell phone they were poor Mexican immigrants. This is gut wrenching writing but this is the very reason your savior hung between earth and heaven this didn’t have to happen this is human evil in the extreme.
The evil perpetrated against the pure innocent Son of God was explained in search for truth a bible study program our church has if I knew what it contained I wouldn’t have read it I wouldn’t put it here I’m trying to drive death’s initial pain and it’s lingering effects off of souls that they can breathe a little freedom. It described the crucifixion in two ways the physical and emotional or moral revulsion Christ felt. First they beat him we all know that then they took a cat of nine tails and tied to each end they had fixed metal or bone then they beat him with it forty times until it cut him open leaving entrails exposed pulled out his beard. Rammed a crown of thorns into his brow then mocked him calling him king of the Jews. Then there were the sins and their raging affect was put like this take your sainted mother out of her home away from her family then install her in a ***** house. Jesus felt even more no one can feel the depths that he feels and has suffered because he loves us the cross his Hemlock It was not sweet but the rivers of living water you can know were dug at Calvary I don’t know it but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t the many tears he wept before Calvary and after. I can’t verify this but I can verify he still cries today you decide I was working at a car auction it was late I was by myself as I walked up to Karen’s desk she had a picture where she was sitting on a car the sun was shining bright she had her arms over her head in exhilaration it was a beautiful picture. I knew her story minimally I never talked to her I knew she was nineteen a single mother and had a fifteen month old little boy. Then unexplainably I started to cry uncontrollably this went on for an hour I had been praying for the people who had desks there I thought that was it. The next day I showed up the place was closed the guard told me Karen was killed when her and her friend were on the golf cart they used to get from building to building it was such a big place. Her friend driving in fun ****** the wheel it threw Karen out on the asphalt breaking her neck. There is a song that says he saw my need I stood by her desk Jesus was there he knew what tomorrow held I was just caught in the blow back from his sorrow and tears he was shedding. Yes he agonizes for you he carried into his domain the agony I felt was tremendous though I was unaware of what was going on. I’m sorry I can’t finish this as I was going to I wrote to many sacred things then even to express even those things for your comfort isn’t right to put them here.

Perpetual Ecstasy laces up the paper weights waiting easily the sleeves slip down the easel ritual by ritual window by window, fear of the unknown beholding the eye of the throne a pupil's pupil is as only as black as the destitute ashes that the charcoal carpools with as carbon.

A loud boom and my room mates with the environment the wind shook the winds croon the chimney like old saints nicking my fingertips with paper cuts dribbling like second graders yet not knowing really how to absolve anything.

Forgive me for my perpetual agony the ridicule of a two thousand year old initiate willing to dare to the caring rusted usuring raw ions fixated chariots blaring dub step as save the thief ****** but like the one who declares himself the backward ******* of the un-gold lawbringer. I am I am terrorist voted to be bring the third world warring down like a moment of courage steals life one fifth at a time.  An empty cup of Rest and relaxation sits as if an Eagle has landed upon the magic carpet beneath my now housed homeless feet, in defeat I stare grimaced at the plasma screen en-livid to the dessert sedition that lingers five hundred glucose lucid pancreas glowing green as bile, run like the Nile the white hawk head is now red.

Eat a lot of greens, the etiology of my disease is a well-borne cyclic machine. The Sun rose out this morning, my son rises like a glory. make babies the kids on the internet tell me today, last evening I didn't know If the twenty-sixth I needed to ask my manager in regards to my independence day behavior. Who knows why the egg cracks, the earth shakes, bowels quake, rainbows aren't strait, oceans consume no lightning, glass stands static at the edge of a liquid precipice...

My mouth grows less hungry every time i beg for poison, every trait i make justifies the lake that satiates it. poised to know no wonder, I lunge and mumble will i ever run outta thoughts to grumble? Or when my quills ink lacks luster the shine of mine metal will surely face the direction of my father. I here that its nice this time of year in the south, the Bronx zoo contains many types of creatures wishing to fend for themselves like an accident we harbor them from the elements they are designed to withstand despite the treason of nature they instill the greater curiosity of of our wits end freeing our passion to travel as nomads and allowing our children to just go down the block and right around the corner to feel the energy of the most fallen predators that ever roamed a far off land.

Like a pen in a century that knows no hand, like the apartment complex i science as my cortex my inhibitions fire like phone calls into my cerebellum, but how are the wires are connected. I **** in and out like limbs upon a Madrona, my internet protocol still sings my old phone number: Rest, Sabbath, human; Human, oh-so-serious, undefined, root. Yet the area code stays the same but the pages keep turning to a knew pain, as the numbers change so do the bills, as the money reigns so does the thrills, as the dew settles down so does the chills, as the root, monad, rest; oh-so-serious, rest, undefined, human sits determining a knew limbic to limbo to as he envisions a **** limo un-abbreviated appearing in his driveway one more time. I am just the house i live in, or am I a beast of happiness?

Entanglement of the fourth

First there is the lie, the start, the easy process.

Once you take the first step you seem to control fate
But sure footing is only an illusion, like the fabrication you made

Second.  You become affirmed in your fantasy and it
Becomes a game, a pastime, and addiction. But only to those
Who are acquainted at a distance. Always

Third.  The Transparency of self is complete and the tales
are told to those who know the truth. Colors fade

Vibrant curtains put up to mask a decrepit house.  Spiders weaving to resurrect a hollowed out shell with thread, when a pillar is required.

Where fire should cleanse, instead secrets lie
This must be revealed.

Fourth.  Elaborate design turns to intricate demise.  The artwork created
becomes the tomb of the weaver.  The webs become ropes and the beloved become the distrusting and they pull tighter and tighter, when the ropes should be cut.

There will be pain. There will be sorrow.  But these webs only inspire predators and fools.

Four fold. *me

Elephants are the only animal species, known as a fact, to die of a broken heart. Their tough, leather skin can only guard so much; breaking blows from predators and using their sturdy bodies for protection.  But surviving instincts and dealing with sadness are on the opposite sides of the spectrum. Social constructs maintained by female elephants, emotional seeds developed from birth; no wonder females are powerful, at least in elephant herds.  The social constructs of human species, inferiority is an expectation. Motherhood and career balance, sexualization, acid punishments for justice, “Voice for Choice” since women shouldn’t take their bodies in their own hands, rapes unidentified, and youth more beautiful than souls.  Sometimes, I wish I was an elephant.

And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb.
And the wolf shall tear it to dripping shreds
and devour it with great gusto, smacking
its lips over such a stupid animal.
And *the meek shall inherit the earth,
but only a plot just six feet in depth,
small recompense for being so gentle.
Better for the lamb and the meek to get Kalashnikovs.
Predators and prey: some things never change.
The world is too ****** to be weak.

  ~mce

Law,
All ye termites hacking ants are you without sin?
Twisting the law to your greed thus dethroning justice
Thou that dis-virgins the law to suit your selfish taste,
Did not equity say that none is above the law?
Money-thirsty vultures seeking positions to occupy.
Law hackers depriving justice and equity of her rights
Equity and justice now lives in shame of her virginity,
Almighty termite, do not your deeds speak evil of your sins?
I weep blood for justice and equity whose daughters you *****.
Is there none whose conscience still breathe or lives?
Power-driven termites making uncountable promises
Yet accomplishing none but your calculated interests.

Equity,
All ye leaders that preach peace, are you not corrupt minded?
En-slaving accounts meant for public welfare
Yet you claim to have the peoples interest in mind,
Did not the law command you to let equity and justice smile?
Parasitic predators hi-jacking the country's economy
Filthy termites proclaiming injustice upon powerless ants,
Justice hackers, do not your conscience judge your judgments?
I wish that you allow justice and equity have her way.
Law benders at whose feet equity and justice bow
Rippers of the law, at your hands justice is twisted,
Is your nature as humans so inhumane?
Little wonder the earth lives in fear of your tyranny.

Justice,
All ye slanders of the law, why not sheath your swords of corruption?
Your unchecked power has broken the wings of justice
Thereby making equity a widow without a husband,
Remember your oaths to serve with justice and equity;
Did you deceive the ants that voted you in to serve them?
Chameleons occupying seats of filtered ambitions
Woe betide your conscience for refusing to judge you,
Are you not guilty of molesting the law?
I mourn for the shameful death of equity and justice.
You that crafts the law to fit your suit of corruption
Remember a day comes when justice will laugh again,
And you being powerful cannot escape the law of Karma.

Karma,
Murderers of the law, will you also bribe karma?
I doubt if you can buy the law of karma with money.
Thou whose gluttony corrupts justice and equity,
Don't you feel guilty that you disvirgined the law?
Equity and justice now roams about in nakedness,
You that preach the law, are you true to yourself?
Heartless spiders cob-webbing the law to entangle poor ants
Did not equity bid you come to justice with clean hands?
Yet with filthy garments you condemn innocent ants;
Mind you that someday the law will rise again.
All ye scavengers of justice and hackers of the law,
Do you think you can **** the law of Karma?

Invested in you
I find our better angels give ground
******* by our egalitarian feelings for each other
Trumpeted by Gabriel’s miscast players
Bedeviled, we take what are yours, mine, and ours
Accumulated wealth protected from predators
Gives in to charitable impulse
Gives out, a gated community against colored encroachment
My bias against the opposition
Dissolves in your arms
We resolve to devote our energy
Toward getting off on the best footing available
Place where we care and don’t simultaneously
Then make fun of our foibles laughing at each other
The same way black and white grays as we mature color blind
Loggerheads whipsawed and dovetailed
Until we forget why we ever came together in the first place
Then remember this location, this smell, this touch, this taste
Karass, storm's eye, held center, Kane's rosebud cathected

We knew T-Rex from its tiny claws
Its hungry mouth, its toothy jaws.
But how can we assess T-****
When all our data’s from a stump
And weekly polls that flinch and jump?

The answer’s lying deep below
Perhaps with Edgar Allen Poe
Whose poetry is dark and slow.

A creature walking o’er the earth
In privilege stretching back to birth
That claims ascendance overall
And loves to brag and boast and brawl
And sometimes recoils, sometimes howls
(One sometimes wonders at its bowels—
When watching active ****** scowls.)

T-**** is marching to consume
What’s going on in the newsroom
And feeds on minor predators,
(Ignoring its own creditors).
It likes to crouch and dance and pose
While speaking in a broken prose
And often wrinkling up its nose
At anything that might oppose
Or even worse, that might expose,
Its streak of show-and-tell sideshows.

Alas when sizing up T-****
One hits a show-and-tell speed bump
That’s not about its topmost clump
Or its eternal ****** frump.
We know, somehow, we’re each a chump
In thinking that there was an ump
Who’d put things on the ump and ump
And so we lazed, and scrimped and scrumped
Instead of what we’d need to do—
To find what’s cleanly new and true,
And redirect our Waterloo
Away from its own cancerous lump
And toward a far less spurious zoo.
In other words, to dump T-****!

The shells are singing
holy songs now—oceans whistle through
their concert holes. ‘Holes drilled by predators,’
the seashore sings to me.

And I’m reminded there’s
so much more ancient than man.
So much that can never be written down,
for words are the limitations of our knowledge

—not its end.
And there should be something more
but really, how does one write what happened
with the seashells whistling by the seashore?

In the USA. Untitled, And they have been communicating
with their clothes teaching the fables of the old heroes in
Europe, in general, the pink ones and their lips, the King
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein in their socks with their mothers
or they stayed when they saw the slaves of Life born from the bad
state of education.
It was the music of Babylon, the messenger who had heard
about alchemy, and weapons, T to run and then to China
began to the cities on the list, the wars were his mother,
and the light at noon, and the network. The fear of the girl to the human eye, seems to be the song of the night;
Better than an American from the top of the water,
Or the black color is ****, warm, beautiful,
American football in Europe and legs, and really died.
Europe and Asia will follow the gray stars,
and they will burn in the blood.
Gold and bronze to Italy and Juan. Dogs are going
to change the history of the military;
African border The Greek countryside is black, green.
Queen of South Yorkshire Thomas lives in the shape
of a donkey; Women have lost celestial parts. And Christians
have the heart to find food in July.
I will warm the garden with clear graphic radios.
Children's fingers of the UV glass moon photography
The game is easy for your children due to the witchcraft
of the devil. Friends of pleasure brown star music
of Jews and Christians. The best way to a man of peace,
the song of the beast out of the luck of the robot, Igor's
Science plays the stage of rock in the opening oboe solo
to start the game.
Thinking of rich colors; Subscribe to Belle Canada;
The game of games is to remember ***** dirt,
the destruction of German poets;
Park instead of pure crazy secret life.
But the offer of hot coffee kills photos
and an angry museum in Virginia Basic
Italian love, you have paid attention
to your security tools. If the decorations
on the leg of the leg have been good, it will work well.
I have to do it forever and it ends in the window,
and the windows are in the memory.
The USA dresses at a table and talks about vitamins in Europe.

I was happy with the socks, the pink lips and, in general,
the mother of King Robert Einstein; With modern life
there is a cycle of the lyrics of Barbie's song.
Do not listen to the parts, you start to find alchemy,
The Chinese of civilians, the angels of the fort
and the reforms of the Medes. For your pain, cause or prophet Marco.
In the manger, Thomas understands the images from the north.
Order of the undulatory nature of the temple girls,
read the complementary Oriental versions of the young black
stripper's memoirs with angel Bettie's movement;
Paul, Bob started reading the hidden light in cash.
The parts of Satan Lion and the predators
of the mountain top are very dear to convert the sister
of the club into a kind of machine inclined laiyara
By strippers we serve magical dolphin dragon eggs.
Stop bleeding because of the smell of paradise.
Ullamcorper language problems. But it is the
vital force of the diet that you have seen the game.
when the dogs smoke; Those who love you call the police.
This is Laura, and fire, it's easy to describe
the sophisticated corners of your corner.
In order to last hours, but the nature of the long;
You will have a great woman, she will bring you
the yellow sports shoes for adults, or three dead
and legs of Europe and American football in Europe
and Asia will follow the stars that breathe blood,
air, gold, Jean, Italy, history of War, conversion,
chain, Greek future, Greek poet, queen of the
southern form. Donkey who lives Thomas of York,
Mrs. Vedas went 100 times to Vedas [Italian dog],
and brewery Christ and British car Ooreşgeriya
Şoreşa, it is an obvious matter with the 400 and
the common cattle of Russia,    you are like my
sister and a robot,      They did not regard them as
robots, but helped other countries with prostitutes
in that country, Zia Kunj Vesora. You can do
this in any case. When I talk to the president,
I can not explore Victoria, because while the
Thompson twins Bach and Thomas
are Aristotelean and do not want to work,
the women listen to what they hear: 20: 80:
8 players, that is, the Valencia Provider, *****
Class, Nigeria. ? Africa Vohra for AP / Motor
/ 9 32XX in Spain In 2008, more *******:
Florida, White Fargo, 26.4% and 9.8% in the
United States 26 to 42 42 42, in the United States
530,000 hectares in the United States 37, All
the country of the United States, 40.00 and 0.53
million from Saudi Arabia, General Secretary
Isabel Estonman Mallcom Michael Wolf Best
32/500 ... "Thomas is not enough .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
Nigeria, Dave, Russian fashion 80 8 20 T Tec
is Uranus Skull, Australia 42.40, 14.0 9 40502
14% -2, Eupiteropoly, Saudi Arabia 41 offset 5.33

II. [Poets & Prostitutes]
In the United States Unnamed: *****, they are communicating.
His clothes teach the allegory of the old hero.
Europe, generally, the pink ones and their lips are the king.
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein made a mother wear socks.
Or they kept looking at the slaves Educational situation;
It was the music of Babylon who is a listener.
Alchemy, weapons, T run, then China.
He started a list of cities, the war was his mother,
Light and midday network. The fear of the girl's
human eyes is like a ******* night song. It's better
than water to Americans,                         Or the color of a black *****
is naked, warm, beautiful,                              European football player,
really dead. European and Asian prostitutes
follow the gray star, They burn with blood.
Gold, bronze, Italy, Juan. The dog will go
Change the history of the army.
The African border of the Greek countryside
is black and green. Thomas Queen of South Yorkshire
Thomas, A female donkey has lost the heavenly part.
And Christian Please find food in July.
I heat the garden with a bright graphic radio.
Photos of the moon of the fingers as children
of UV glass.        This game is easy for your magical
children. Devil's pleasure Brown star music
music friends It is the best way for peace
people, between Jews and Christians.
Igor, lucky song of the robot beast.
With the opening of a unique oboe,
science plays the blocking stage.
Start the game Think of rich colors.       Subscribe
to Belle Canada. The game of the game
is to keep *****. Destruction of the German poets.
Park instead of a pure crazy secret life.
However, the supply of hot coffee will **** photos.
Virginia's basic **** museum
Italian love, you are paying attention
To your security tools. Decor
If your legs are working, it will work.
I have to do it forever and it ends up
in the window. The window is in memory.
The United States dresses at the table
and talks about European vitamins.
***** without an American title,
and they are communicating. His clothes show
the allegory of the old hero. Europe, generally
******* and pink lips, the king.
Robert Oppenheimer and Einstein
wore their mothers socks. They saw a slave
born of evil. The state of education It was the music
of Babylon to which the evangelist was heard.
Alchemy, weapons, T run, then China.
He started a list of cities, the war was with his mother,
The light of midday, and the network.
Fear in the eyes of girls is like a nightly song.
It's better than American water,
Or black, naked, warm, beautiful,
European and six foot football is really dead.
Europe and Asia follow the gray stars,
They burn with blood. Gold, bronze, Italian *******,
Juan. The dog will go Change the history of the army.
The African border is a black and green *******.
Thomas Queen of South Yorkshire Thomas,
A ******* of a ******* lost part of the sky.
**** and Christian Please have a heart to find food in July.
I expose the garden to the heat with bright graphic radios.
Image of crystal glass UV glass child fingers crystal.
This game is as magical as it is easy for your son.
The pleasure of the devil's feminine brown · star · music · friend
This is the best way for peace between
Jews and Christians. Igor, a beast robot
of the luck to sing. With the opening
of a unique oboe solo,    science plays the blocking
stage. Start the game
Think of rich colors.     Subscribe to Belle Canada.
The game of the game is to ***** the dirt.
Destruction of the German poets.
Park instead of a pure crazy secret life.
However, hot coffee suppliers will **** photos.
Virginia's Basic Museum Is Angry
Italian love, you are paying attention,
Your ***** security tool.     Decor
If your feet are working, it will work.
I have to do it forever, a ***** and it ends up in a window.
The window is in memory.
The United States dresses at a table and talks about European vitamins.

"Man is a crushed being. Floats like logs on an empty river in a wild with no predators,
because, Man knows, a predatory wild is immoral."
no regrets.

and water once said to the wall
"Can I speak? And if I speak why do I speak this particular language? Beyond my reflective frailties and your broken back, there really isn't much to be said for the anglo-saxon remembrance of loss, now, is there?"

and the sleep in the corner of her bedroom was like a feminist strike for equal wages
there was a resentful bitterness to the way she spat her measured love.

often, she would say nothing as a means to everything,
and everything as a means to nothing,
but either way the only one listening was every one of us, so we couldn't really hear a word she was saying.

some mornings, I awoke to the curious wondering of subject versus object, and sad endings versus no endings, and you know what?
not once did an answer appear and if it did, no way was there a syllable empty enough to describe our lack of a point
so I stopped calling I, I
and started calling I, we
so we slept until 1 in the afternoon with the only shame being that of novelized continuity with its great big book on the cons of finitism we tried to return for store credit only to realize it wasn't Chapters selling, nor the writ of the holy ghost, but instead that particular angle of our face that can only be witnessed if one mirror is placed in front of another with a third to the left

and suddenly, 'I' made more sense,
what a shame?

and water once said to the wall
"all things are all things," and the wall listlessly agreed to nothing.

so we walked to the water and agreed on behalf of the wall
and the water swooshed kindly as we lay out a towel
sleep on the beach.

and the sleep in the corner of her bedroom was like a feminist strike for equal wages
there was a resentful bitterness to the way she spat her measured love
so my nervous flinch began to wonder why the real world teases with stillness, distant mountains, open roads, warm kisses, sunrises, and cold rain
when I still have to get up for work in the morning.

(12/25/11)

I heard a loud rumble coming from the sky
I saw an army of angels right before my eyes
They were all singing that the king is on his way
To fight  the evils that plague us every day.

The angels in their armor and their wings a beautiful white
This is where the strength lies to take on the fight.
The sounds of their wings flapping in the sky
That is the rumble that will protect you and I .

The sound like thousands of cattle  running across the plains
And as their wings Touched one another
Not one opening could be seen
like a wall in a dream.

The lord was tired of seeing children s lives being torn apart
And all hope- being taken from their hearts.
Tired of seeing predators using children for their own needs
To satisfy- their own personal greed.

These are his cherubs , his little angels
that he has sent To help mankind
and of this they will not be denied.
The children will rise like storks of corn in a field
And peoples hearts will begin to heal.

They are the future and will bring peace to the world
For they will teach their sons and daughters
And every boy and girl,  that Jesus came here
To show us how to love
That’s the reason the angels were sent from above.

PROTECT THE CHILDREN , PROTECT THE FUTURE

I've been walking down a road of thumb tacks
Each fowl word and evil glance they give
Sticks into your Human flesh.
You try and lift up your head.
But, their judgment  crown of thorns cuts to streams of blood.
As my tourmented soul wishes for the relief of being dead.
Drying tears of emptiness of the lack of supporters by your side.
You scream, aloud, due to years of useless torment, yet not one ear ever hears.
You fear you'll be preyed upon by the packs of emotional wolves waiting for you to just make one simple mistake.
They attack you in numbers.
Tearing your soul's flesh to shreds
As you fear your life is a useless spot taken.
You feel like a joke.
The more the predators lurk like vultures in the desert....
Onward you walk in a barren land not fitting in for some odd defined reasoning.
You lose your strength to go on.
The bullies have battered your head in....
Like a boxer....you are too punch drunk to think.
As your sanity is tested by ice you walk upon that's mighty thin.
"Watch how you walk"
One false move.....you fall into frozen and cold waters.
You shall freeze to death from backs that turn away...
Turning once warm and sweet air to a dark and bitter air .
frozen to cold.
Dying,slowly, alone, would anyone care to rescue a battered and now shivering soul.....
After the bullies forced you to fit into "their version of Society's "
Mold.

The alien who strikes out the young



You see young people don't understand
That aliens do exist, you can't see them
But you can hear them telling you what your doing is so right
You see you might be with some people
Who you learnt from your parents that are wrong
But the alien comes into your brain
And takes away your family loving nature
Thinking it is cool to get drunk and commit crimes
But the alien will make you commit crimes
And give you no reason to think it's bad
Instead of suffering in the mental institution
You think you are an oldie in a old persons home
And you are being looked after by nurses
But the truth is the alien puts weird thoughts in your mind
And makes you really really sick
I must admit that if you look back at my life
The alien was there a lot, because I had two special lives
Which I can call my own
I had the stay at home me, who was nice, gentle and loving
And then I had my hooligan me, who went out and caused havoc
At the time, I thought I could not make these two lives meet
And I could still be a hooligan and a family person
But the alien doesn't work it that way
He will make sure your life is a living hell
And if you want the two lives not to meet
Suddenly from out of the blue, they will meet
And you will be sleeping it off in psych wards
Or prison cells, or ******* in some predators car
And the alien will stop at nothing to make you suffer
So you need to get rid of the alien
Don't think you can fight this alien alone
You can't, if this alien is the only reason you drink
Stop, no matter what your genetics say
Because the aliens love trapping you in the genetics
He loves you to think that your family are happy to see you the way you are
He wants you to think your mother wants seafood platter at the club
Instead of inner happiness
You see the alien trapped me in 1989, making me want to
Do weird things to want to be cool, and making my friends
Who shared my visions for what they want to see in this world
I tried to get on well with them, but they found me annoying
And because they shared my visions, it looked like
They were teasing me, in the same way I was getting teased by my brother
But the alien wanted me to get teased
And made me think I was teasing, and my parents
Were worrying about the way I lived my life
Smoking and drinking, and being intimidated by people just like me
Every person when I went to the mall was teasing me in that way
And the alien was having a field day
Because I was doing everything to get me out of this world
And I will be ******* by aliens up in Pluto
And aliens kept me doing the wrong things
And slowly friends who were like me
Turned out being scared of me, like I would be scared of me
I can blame this on being teased at school
Or even being with a friend, who was f..n bossy as
Or being locked in a storage room at school
Thinking I would be there all night
But the alien tried to keep me away from enjoying life a mature way
Got me saying no to beautiful women and you don't know who I chose to perv at
I was silly, and I wanted the alien to get f..d out of my life
You see I saw myself as a little oool kid to the family
But the world saw me as a hooligan who made me too scared to be with the family
I found solace in a young friend who had psychotic thoughts
But he didn't share my views, so the alien told him
To stay away from me, cause I was letting him win
But I don't know why this alien has me, but I want him to get lost
Because really I want him out of my life
And into story books, you see it'll be fun for future generations
To try and fight this alien, cause if there is one thing I have learnt from kids
Is fighting aliens is cool, so if someone asks you to party with them
Only go if you really want to, because the alien curse isn't easy to beat
But we can, if you want, I'm not shy to beat him, are you

Summer. bike ride. I’m a child. I live just outside of Churchill Downs in Kentucky. young in skinned knees, pumping a 10 speed in a humid southern town, dodging cracks in the side walk. it’s an old superstition and I still hold it. grass growing in tiny bunches, in cracks. sun peeling the skin. candy rotting the teeth. the city is so *****. the houses dilapidated like fallen, shambling drunks. paint crumbling. and my brother ate paint chips. someone called him *******. rusted cars, playing house. sedan clubhouse, an oven in July. garbage day, rummaging for toys. I once found Quik strawberry milk in the trash I consumed it, and later felt like ****. hot trash treats. cumulus cloud companions, balloons without strings, the heat over eighty degrees, friends none to speak. after school fight. kids claiming coitus in the elementary. country music blaring from a fake wood radio. I found the radio on the curb and was proud of my conquest. all the lyrics incoherent but somehow they resonated. riding bikes all day. no parents. busy, their marriages failing, lives changing. riding through the slums. the houses of broken homes watching me tiredly. boarded eyes. down steep hills. up plywood ramps. kids jeering from porches, throwing rocks, glass, anything. scribbled graffiti. the rain makes everything more loathsome, wet clinging grime.  the dirt sticks to everything. fingertip messages scrawled on cars. s.o.s. twenty foot Marlboro man towering above the block, faded, peeling, half his face gone. like a totem making sentry of the oiled trash, the houses and apartments nodding to demolition. meanwhile, the thoroughbreds are fenced off and protected like coveted family jewels. I stood at the fence and thought, that’s all Kentucky is to the world. just some **** horses. Now and Laters and candy lips stick, my front porch.  the house leans. a drunk on the curb mouth a gape and snoring. is that your dad? no he’s in the tavern across the street. he lives there and its always loud. angry sounding buses threaten to squash the spastic child cyclers as they clutch their Sega genesis desires. cleaning gritty fingernails, I learned that my math teacher was dead. her car she wrapped around an old elm or maple on Southern Parkway the night before. my dad signed me out of school and took me to see the spot where she died. on the asphalt a ripe red stain. did I make this up or was that real? death. learning about death. with cockroaches. the bug-man sprayed and killed your parakeet, Christina. it was stuck to the newspaper that lined the bottom of its cage. I recorded it chirping on a cassette tape. I remember running terrified from rusted sedans. dented and hosting drug addled predators in cut-off jeans, wet legs stuck to torn imitation leather seats. ***** glued them and fueled them. I fled with my flea bitten mongrel friend. fly eaten, **** making. my dog made a minefield of our backyard. in this backyard where every Derby I parked tourist cars, the ladies in fine heals, disgusted and wobbling around the turds, the mud. I stood squat, shabby and I pocketed their money. Kentuckians, that’s all we are; horses, chicken and the cluck, Thompson.

Heavy foot steps and lead laeden words.
Trying to create sense of this emergancy of birds.
Predators hiding lurking in the laminate
sealed in with a kiss the layers are feeling permanant.
Clear obsidion mixed with volcanic ash.
Crushing down on me, im gasping for breath.
Shaking like a mountain just before the eruption
trying to remove myself from this plastic corruption.
Daisies die in feilds..
Deers burn as the air horns call out the catastrophy.

You all need to run from me.

Silence in my self, I am no longer seeking
i need to break free and sing just as birds sing.
Calling out the warning; shaking up the evergreens.
its all interconnected.
Hyperspatail turbulance im screaming in my bed
im worried
im afraid
im trying
its working
i think that the plastic might just be burning
the toxic
the posion
its all gassing off from me
dont breath me
i feel like its something.


I could just be werid. Relaxing in turbines, i think im just trying and poems lead to calm minds.

Make sense of me. Make sense of you.
And you.
And you.
Im caought up in the subterfuge.  Capracioisly grapsing
for what im not sure.

Cattawompus canyons are cut into my heart. Im so confused information on piecharts
, the values dont match
the legend is misleading.
God seems to be warrenting this healing.
Kicking in the door
creating a dizzy storm.
Cyclopeon rage
stolen from days of yore..

Its time to let go.
Its time to grow.

Just understand me . just for a breif moment. I am harmless. I am less. I am lost. I need rest..

A bunch more words too honest too painful. I write poems to unleash all that is shameful.

This hurts.

This is needed.

I am bleeding.

Just so I am.

Just living.

Just leaving.

Just kidding.

Just bidding.

Betting.
On when its all ganna explode.
On when the subroutiunes will need a defrag machine when the bios gets corrupted when the system wears down when i will stand in the light looking like a ******* clown.
Because i trusted.

Why is this so hard?
I am 24 years old and cant drive a mother ******* car.
Fear is a disease that i can not squah on my own
a whole battallion of star ships need to warp into my home and disrupt the radio frequencies that speak to me
in dreams the nightmares unending the face grips and rending my cheek bones are tensing my teeth are condensing milkbones and raw tones

This excitment inside me
burns out the live feed
darkness envolopes mailed sent by trumpet
these echos of my thoughts
repeat the words taought
like liar and loser you dumb ******* ****** acomplish not nothing but your something is ******* just so god ****** worthless they all wait for your face to turn to a frowning grimice of you drowning you floundering ****** you sociatial ****** you cautious cat crawling as dogs get the tasties of life while your wasting your time just complainging this echo echo chamber needs to be ******* obliterated. A star dust deconstruction and rebuilding of the most primitive functions.

Take me from my own head.
I made my bed.
Id lie in it. But. Its made of my own meat and guts.

Friends
.. I need your ******* help.

Just.
Be you. Perfect.

I trust you. Despite what these echos say bouncing in my brain.

Just.

This is too much.

Just.

I think im just werid..

Just.

Please dont run.

most days, when the sun is high and the sky is clear and the wind is slow,
i like to leave my window open for my cats, long-haired and elegant beings as they are.
they tend to visit for longer if the window is ajar, allowing sunlight to peek in and wind to sneak its tendrils in,
and there is little wonder why that is.
their eyes linger on birds the most, and i know that if they had their way they would be velvety hunters like their ancestors were
but my parents are birdwatchers (and i am sensitive) so they must be content with simply watching from my screened window,
dreaming of the fierce predators they could be, if only.

The sheep are swimming in the Nile; they must be living in denial!
Denial is our best friend, the constitution we must amend!

Guns are our mortal enemies; their only use is to commit felonies
To stop these tragedies, we must impose harsher penalties!

There is no wolf, we will not die; there’s no need to put your life on the line
Sheepdogs are for the paranoid, those who live in a void

Remove the sheepdog and the enemy goes away, to happiness this is the true way
Ban the wolf with a no trespassing sign, surely we’ll be fine

Respect and common courtesy, the wolf will live in harmony
Close our eyes and he goes away, all we have to do is pray

Our herd used to be bigger; we don’t ask questions as long as our denial can deliver
Until our children are in the fire, then the sheepdog we require

But the sheepdog is out of practice, we fired him for “malpractice.”
Ruined by us, he looks no better than us – but he’s not like us

The sheepdog is weak; his sheep made him an antique
But his mind is strong and he’s eager to **** the evil and wrong

Wolves are predators, feeding on the weak; it’s denial they seek
The sheep will never fight, but pray the sheepdog is able to take up their plight

The Sun shines on my computer
Creating a protective glare
But night comes like an intruder
At pictures I begin to stare

After I view their portrait online
I want to see their body on mine
We talk all night
Until I see the light
That they're not that bright
Or that they like to fight

Desperation swirls
I enter a world
Where the randomness of human interaction
Meets the randomness of my attraction
And the low visibility
Endears no civility
Will I spend infinity
In this digital city?

The creatures try to hide
They scatter in the distance
They're not hard to find
When their profiles leave imprints
But the parasites are quick
And the scavengers stick
Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone
Leeches try to make my pad their home
Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone
Like the solicitous predators
Who act like creditors
And the sly foxes
Who claim they're locksmiths
They all have claws and fangs
They're all just jaws with brains
I play possum
Until I've lost them

When monsters are made from loneliness
They try to trick me with phoniness
They feel I wouldn't want us to be together
And they're probably right
Because all I want is to spend forever
In love's divine light
Nocturnal animals just want the meal
Of my motion
They don't want to honestly feel
My devotion

In the wild
I am a child
The creatures cut deep
They make me weep
Until I choose to sleep
But when I avoid their glance
I avoid love's chance

The caterpillar marches
Munching from leaf to leaf to leaf
He doesn’t know where he’s going
He doesn’t know where he’s been
He only knows the munching
The hunger in his gut
The fire in his belly
Antennae pointing up
Vigilant for predators
Water and leaves
He doesn’t know where he’s going
It matters not where he’s been

The caterpillar weaves
Instinctively without knowing
Why he must, but weaves he does
A cocoon for the growing
The caterpillar digests himself
Dissolving into soup
Becoming a pod of pain and tears
And caterpillar goop
Alone for weeks he suffers
Reconfiguring
His whole body becoming
A new kind of being

No idea what he’s becoming
No idea what’s in store
Suddenly caterpillar emerges
More beautiful than before
Stronger and more delicate
Lighter than the air
Ready for love and lofty height
A sight beautiful and rare
The butterfly does not look back
To the caterpillar he was
The butterfly flies forward
Embracing whatever comes

Take any negative and turn it into a positive.
When a child is sad uplift their spirits to smile.
Not solely because they are a child.
But because a defeat spirit defeat anyone purpose.
Yes, up lift them.

When you notice an abuse woman.
Don't stay silent.
For you might be that savior she needed to uplift her.

Within our society presently.
Too many quiet voices stands trying to cover up from abuse by a man.
**** from a spouse, or lover or an acquaintance.
And not to be sexist-even from some women.
Uplift them to stand up to prosecute them.

Some hides in the shadow of fear.
While these predators hurts another.
We must be concern about them bringing shame to another.

Don't speak these words, if you don't believe in the truth of them.
Treat people the way you want to be treated.

No good manners ever led you to shame.
It's the opposite.
It more likely led you to be respected.

Uplift those that's insecure.
Because many times they just need someone to push them.

She walks a narrow path,
over a valley filled with wrath.
One wrong turn,
and in the fire she's left to burn.

She always dreamt to stretch her wings, but never did fearing the stings.
She always wanted to soar high,
but feared the endless predators in the sky.

A smile she wears as the day goes by,
lets no one see the tear in her eye.
The pain in her heart goes un noticed by most,
though it rings from coast to coast.

Her voice no one ever heard,
not a single sentence or word.
No laughs of joy nor cries of pain,
all for herself to contain.

Lonely at times she gazes at the night sky, trying to catch any falling star that may go by.
Wishing for her misery to end,
wishing to enjoy life and its moments with a close one, a friend.

Laughs and cries to herself at times, putting down what she feels into rhymes.
Pushed around forever,
rarely allowed to pursue her own endeavour.

Her goals and dreams,
never morph to reality it seems.
For others she lives,
without thinking her everything she gives.

How long will this go on,
how long will she suffer from dusk to dawn?
All the injustice and spite,
will this continue to be her plight?

Why can't she be allowed,
to rise up and touch every cloud?
To laugh more and less to cry,
all set bounds and limits to defy.

To fight and to resist,
to deal with every twist and tryst.
To have an equal foot on every front,
no more to take the brunt.

Her eyes never to sparkle with remorseful tears,
to do away with all her worries and fears.
Her freedom to life and right to every joy, lets protect and not destroy.

To end her pitiful plight, and let her enjoy her life’s glorious flight...

born to exile
risen in solitude
they leave me alone
I give them my gratitude
It's not lonely
or dark
or solemn
It's lovely
and stark
and quiet

I sit, uninhibited, uninterrupted
and watch
as the world wraps and folds and turns into itself
crumpling as the sheet of paper in the notebook or the universe
the one to be thrown away for mistakes made upon it
I understand all
but partake in little
I am not alone
I have my self

The broken
and the scared
and the token
They come to me for guidance
I do my part, give them satisfaction
and they return to their lives of alliance
while procrustean bigots sheperd them to war
but they are content, content with compliance


I don't loathe them
I don't love them
I respect them
as they do me

In this world of herds and sheperds
of predators and prey
of war
a world where good is named evil and evil is exalted
I do not lead
I do not follow
I watch
alone

So let’s consider what is meant
by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
time for Truth to represent
(as if such inconvenience mattered…)

Such events disturb our sleep
and force us to compose, on waking,
lullabies for drowsy sheep
as predators are overtaking.

Flags of doom and holy slaughter,
sons of Ishmael filled with rage
are coming for your wife and daughter
and yourself. You turn the page.

Rising now to storm your tower
(7th century back to bite you),
Allah brings satanic power
to convert you or to smite you.

****** dhimmis would have us think
such rage is due to unemployment;
pure confusion on the brink
of funding further troop deployment.

Meanwhile, mullahs sip their tea
while tenured academics prattle
watching MSNBC
as soldiers die in battle.

I am
a companion for life
committed to relations bounded only by time
for those who understand the value of friendship
undaunted by materialistic wealth
indifferent to titles or social status
seeking the merits of sincere character

I am
an enemy’s worse nightmare
constantly awakening from deadly encounters
sometimes wounded severely
close to being a casualty of others
but never surrendering and admitting defeat
even against overwhelming odds

I am
a passionate endeavor
submerged feelings awaiting release
to confound then arouse the senses
beyond current reality to transcend the cosmos
caressing the lips of blissful insanity
only to curse rational existence

I am
a subconscious dream
desperate to escape a conventional life
surrounded by negative forces
polarizing insecurity and apprehension
with false vigor and zeal
until the images become unclear

I am
a loner with fortitude
destined to follow an unknown destiny
with so many cunning predators lurking
ready to end the journey and make it the last
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me".

Not any character of the jungle,
At the time power was kept by the single
Lion kind, risked jumping into the lions’ jaws,
Against their rapacity raising paws:
The hares and hyenas they could strangle
And devour; in their minds best were their laws
Providing rights of the mighty
As common and full sovereignty.

The era was worsened by men-hunting,
Whose guns were used the wildlife menacing.
The weak of the forest saw that succumbed
The lions, who were the first shot at, welcomed
The hunters and their faces showed, smiling.
They were deceived when the first seen were harmed
Like the lions by the same haughty
Men set against their sovereignty.

Some lions who survived called the animals
For a meeting, and the men-criminals
Were the main topic of their discussion.
The lions warned, “Will wipe us away those men
If can’t stand together as animals,
Fight them and save lion, hypo, hare and wren…”
Mocked and heckled the assembly
That ne’er had enjoyed sovereignty.

Each one’s motion was that there was no need
Of obeying on the lions, who to feed
Their cubs with their flesh used to take pleasure.
They thought their forest had become seizure
Of the men for lack of unity; freed
It’d be with or ‘thout a lion as major:
They’d trust who would bring unity
And help them enjoy sovereignty.

There came a time and there came protectors
Of the animals to stop the hunters
From destroying on the environment.
They showed in killing there’s no contentment.
So the hunters ceased to be predators,
And the fauna had no more sentiment
Of hating the humanity
That brought them peace and sovereignty.

Some of them were kept in zoo
And the kingship of the lions they did boo.
Cows, rabbits, goats - were domesticated,
And more than ever they were protected.
Such treatment them gave of humans new view:
The protectors or authors of the deed
Looked like who’d brought brutality,
But in their hearts reigned sovereignty.

Later on the lions found that in the strong
Claws dwelt no good power, but can be for long
Which is applied to all comfort giving,
That a king marching in front of trembling
Souls, as if to hell angels would belong,
One day will see his strength brought to nothing,
But where freedom ain’t scarcity
Kings and subjects share sovereignty.

What the beasts failed to know was the keepers
Of the zoo were children of the poachers,
Who’d found unfair deed what their fathers did,
To take good care of them had decided
And did not want to be called game-seekers’
Generation. In the action could read
Great kindness and humanity
The beasts savoring sovereignty.

A former foe may become a good friend,
Who breaks off with the past and turns his hand
Into protector, support provider –
Like Human Rights Activists. No wonder
Where they are from, people’s torn hearts they mend.
A protector has ne’er been intruder
As long as for tranquility
He works and preserves sovereignty.

A sovereign nation is not like a house
With its closed doors, and inside, like a mouse,
A wife is beaten and loses her life
Without neighbours’ intervention as if
Not hearkening the victim, and the louse
Of man not stopping is to save the life.
Is a land where people’s safety
Is denied full of sovereignty?

If at The Hague someone is indicted,
It means not people he has protected,
Nor that he has well governed Liberia,
But ‘cause people’s hearts he has filled with fear
And a lot of trouble he’s invited.
After shedding blood there and here,
The lions who’ve made their claws *****
Should be there washed for sovereignty.

Wherever the lions rage it’s no matter:
Matters the will to keep the world better.
Some Devil’s advocates would call nations
Not in Syria to find indications
Of crimes as if is found a wife-beater
At Holy Land or brothels it opens.
In a place where reigns sanctity
Won’t dwell breakers of sovereignty.


A rot of conception of sovereignty
Reeks when gangrene holds sway o’er a country,
In which Democracy swings at cannons;
Debates are feared that aim ruling with brains;
Wear noose as necklace who would change carry,
And the song “Independence” is hangmen’s.
Where lions and lambs live with loyalty,
There is unshaken sovereignty.