Pain unearned but still deserved
Served up as dessert
By her earthier friends
Laughing at her crying back
As she stumbles blindly home.

Ignorance is a crime
And sweet little puppies die all the time
But what makes them smile for a moment
Places her in confoundment
So sweet and remorseful
She takes her own life.

Bullies on the steps
Bullies on the curb
******* punks on the bus
Unexplained learning curves.

People are animals
Who can do better
If they want and are able
And not just something in the middle.

I wish she'd known me
Before she knew you
I can see you from miles away
She never understood public schools.

She needed an honest education
Never the misfired humiliation
But the streets run with rats
A fact we'll never get past.

Is social equality such an uneven street
That the fanciest of shoes might stumble
And the beasts ferociously feed?

A wake and a vigil
Candles burned for as long as boredom can stand
School bells ring
And it's business as usual.

I see a light flickering in the distance
The struggles that I'm in
make me the one whose priveledged
Single and content
but now and then I gotta vent
about the search that I'm in
are my thoughts
worth a cent?

I know how to deal with life
I know she is more than just a wife.
She's another human being
her own mind, soul and body
Mix of beauty and thrift
with kick like karate.
Emotional kamikaze,
displayed through
her origami

But i want her
and I love her style,
haven't seen something like this
in quite a while
Just had to get this off my chest
A freestyle, but it's my best
And that's all you'll ever get,
never anything less.
She's that light I've been
waiting for,
Hoping that this
day is for
Me and her to meet
and make more
with love.

That piece of paper
Runs your life.
It causes you fear
And desperate strife.

The government takes
And leaves you empty
For that piece of paper
Is a lifeline of plenty

We print the paper
Distribute it to all
pay for meaningless things
And suddenly we fall

This piece of paper
Ruins our lives
Leaves us broken
Fearful through the night

For we need this paper
To succeed in our society
To be viewed as "priveledged"
As everyone wants to be

When is this paper
Going to cease
Running our lives
And causing defeat

I want to burn this paper
It doesn't define who we are
Our importance is known by God
And we are as magnificent as His stars

We were created by
The most majestic being
The one whom we believe in
The one we love without seeing

This paper breaks our connection
With the one and only bond
We have with each other, ourselves
And our one and only God.

In my car
Listening to tastes better suited to the past
Smoking cigarettes.
Inhaling thoughts desired. Exhaling
    ideas of unoriginality.

Living a priveledged life in the U.S.A.
Free if worries of **** and ******,
Belly full of carnage and illegal immigration.

Head twirling like ballerinas
Twinkling piano, followed by
Strings of mourning
Deep and somber
Reverberating lost love
       and new life
Ember glowing. Smoke.
Eyes flipped inside out
Without humor
Like the 99.9% plasmatic Universe.

What a ******* *******
Thinking he's so high and mighty
Taking the day off just to sit on his ***
Stupid priveledged whitey
Refuses to see the favorable position he's in
Just likes to believe he is lower
To get pity from others and kin
Maybe he's just a **** blower
****, what a *******
Stupid as **** get outta my sight
You're about to get hit
And you know I'm right
Go to hell man
You don't deserve the **** you have
You're so pale, not tan
Not even smooth, no, not suave
I shouldn't have to stare at this dope
He better not get any nearer
I'm thinking of this while putting on soap
and staring into a mirror...

heaven isnt in the clouds.
its on a roof.
sweating
sweeping puddles of water
and little rocks
for hours.
swimming
in my own
pure fluids.
patching the cracks
in the cocoons
of the priveledged.
patching the cracks
in the cocoon
for the watch maker.
the cocoons for
the toddlers who pupate
and molt into parents
leaving their kids
in stranger places.
in the apartment building
so the rain doesnt move in
and ruin all the poverty.
patching the cracks
in the meat factory
so the meat can stay dead
in a safe environment.
and be shipped in fat trucks
to the poverty stricken obese
who party on pure meat
while the babies are away
and make love to each other's
rotting colons.
and im melting black tar chemicals
with fire on the roof
losing 8 pounds of my pure fluids
filling in the cracks
that let the good air in.

but maybe it's not a building.
or an abattoir or babies
or the watch maker and the
pinched nerve in his wrist.

maybe its the people in cocoons
dreaming up their suffering
inventing cracks
to let the suffering out
and the good air in.

maybe it's just raining
in their lives.

and im patching the cracks
in a cloud.

and my pure fluids are the puddles
where you slip and break your neck
as soon as you think youve got it.

Forty years felt this land
Green
But how the  carrions caress
Its shores, pollution stains
In all the halls
Where hang the priveledged
Like bats in the light.
Without vision or right.

With cupped hands the meak
Hold out the remains of the
Saint's words, crying why?
And the challis falls until
Failing retribution they, too,
Break hour for the truth
For carelessness is unbearable
Sorrow.

Love Mary x