Want to play a game?
You know that one where,
The first person to break a heart wins.

The one where our anxiety is so bad,
We think that if we stay in bed all day,
That'll wash our problems away.

The one where the crippling pressure that still lingers from school,
Is killing you in college,
And you don't know how to tell anyone.

Want to play a game?
You know that one where,
We place a gun to our heads,
Count to three... then press the trigger.

you know one thing i hated as a kid, is not being included, because every kid

wants to be included, i love life, i love to PARTY, i love being normaL I hate nothing

nothing at all, you see i had this friend named patrick back in those days, and he

never yelled at me, i hear him  yelling at me  in my head, but that is the cosmos, you

see i tried to be like him, because he helped me more than anyone else, took me to jimmy barnes

concerts, and i liked him, and he took me to nye parties, and we certainly partied all night

even when i crashed over his house, cause i didn’t want to show dad how ****** i was, pat

never yelled like a *****, but i turned out to be a ***** in the end, because i had too much

creative energy i had to get rid of, and i was a ****, until i started seeing carers, they have all

helped me by making me understand that he ain’t my daddy, but i still wanted to see him

but i have to realise, we are adults now, and we have to grow up, when i am watching chris rock

i am hearing nonsense voices of my mates hating black people but i learnt from the messiah that

black people are good comedians and good athletes, there is a lot of knowledge in black people

more so than in white people, blacks are struggling day in and day out, while us whites get it easy

and i am saying patrick was the nicest white person i have ever met after meeting a few aussies at

the cricket, i liked patrick back then because he helped me understand a bit about my family, to whom

i used to get cranky with, well, mainly he was showing me what my family was doing with them, ya know

the other kids, anyway, i have no ideas what patrick is doing now, but i hope he is working in a top high class job

because i am an artist, and writer and youtube entertainer, when i go to bed, i ain’t like canary bird, and i ain’t

a koomarri man, i just fall asleep on the bed with the radio on to keep me company, and when i yell at my voices

i am basically saying, i AM THE BIG PARTY PERSON, I PROVIDE PARTIES FOR ALL, i have moved out now

so come on DUDES, because going out is fun, patrick taught me that, my head is saying, he didn’t wanna do that

because i don’t like yelling at people, i prefer if i yell, i yell at the cosmos, because bailey from the show NEIGHBOURS

‘when he yelled, he looked like a CRAZY person, making the man say ‘YOU’RE CRAZY BAILS’ and that man who said

that told bailey he was crazy, reminded me of patrick, in the way of saying, patrick was a very nice person, he didn’t have to yell

if i meet patrick again, i will explain i am an artist and writer and youtube ****** and then i will tell patrick, i have always liked the computer

it’s just that i like going out having fun too, i have been thrown out of houses or flats, but patrick never did, so that makes him

number 1, out of school chums who i mucked with at school, and i like the joke by chris rock, men can’t go backwards sexually while

women can’t go backwards in lifestyle, i know we said imagine what lylle would do, here, imagine what lyle would, there, imagine

what lyle would in any place, yeah mate yeah, i am cool, i remember playing heavy metal music loud with patrick, as well and playing

basketball as well,  now patrick, whether he liked christmas or not, he still put his xmas tree up, i can tell you one thing though, i am

a buddhist who loves christian holidays, and i had fun teasing the old army men, who fought and died for this country, you see

this year is the 100 th year of gallipoli, and it’s an oldie thing to tease with music now, because young army codgers are in it

to be there for their country, patrick is a heavy metal ******, mainly liking jimmy barnes and me, as cronus put dad in barnesy’s family

as his little granddaughter betty, so dad, the old army codger from way back can learn the nice parts of jimmy barnes

i remembered patrick singing when your love is gone, and i liked him singing it, but i was looking at his legs, i was CRAZY

because i shouldn’t look at people’s legs, i am not gay, i am a man with problems, i have changed from all that nonsense of my minds past

i am now the new and improved brian allan, but i realise that patrick might not like me saying this, but he helped me, by not getting cranky AT me

i just want to make peace with my good mate, opatrick, because, he might have been ******* with my criime

and because of that crime, and because he was nice, when i saw he was cranky, i left him to head down the mall to be big bad brian

and the best way to get a guy over to a girl’s house, is put a ***  on the stove and you will have every man breaking down your door

you see, i was hearing crazy teasing in my head, and patrick’s voice was saying, is he trying to be like mr allan, i thought he was trying

to be like us, tease him, fight him, bully him around, and patrick still doesn’t know that channel 9’s karl stefanovic reminded me of patrick’s cool kid

to my mind but i have to tread to carefully there because patrick might have been trying to be like craig from kingswood country, he might hate

karl stefanovic, it’s just he reminded me of patrick, what is wrong with visions, pat might hate karl stefanovic, well his cool kid does anyway

and my cool kid is ***** hogan and sam marshall, patrick is a young dude figure

Sow a Good Seed
When you sow a good seed, you see a good harvest
You work hard every day and try to stay modest
You pray every day and try to live honest
You may have some problems but you own and then solve them.
Sow a Good Seed
Your harvest is plenty and hard work is not futile
The clouds grew dark and the winds were brutal
You just keep on plowing because your dedication is undisputable
Sow a Good Seed
When you sow good seeds, you reap a plentiful harvest
Don’t think it was easy because you didn’t see me through the darkness
No matter how many seeds are sown
No matter how many plants are grown
Know that if the harvest seems like its slow, it is not a blessing denied, but instead, a blessing postponed that's waiting to be bestowed!

I walked so far
And who I was, I left behind
Then I found something new
And now that I’ve lived this life
The time has come to stop
The direction has become a circle

Is there a God in my midst
Is it what I have already met
Or what has already left?

Who could expect more
To walk inside a dream
And then another
To know what you want
To become the dream

But to wake up
Not wondering what you saw
Or if it made sense
But instead knowing
All the pieces were there
Is it time for a new dream
Or to try to live it after it is over?

Can I really cross the sea
When it won't let me be?
The revolution is the dream
But peace makes my soul free
I can't tell time anymore
What was so far has become today
The eagles I once saw
Are no longer leading the way
Hovering over the waters
The spirit still silently waits
The promise is still being kept
But this time it may be too late

What can be said
An entire religion has answered the question
It has been said
It has been lived
But I have not lived it
And I have not said it
What is left is gripped tightly
Held together by life
By responsibility
But is it unhealthy fight for every goal
Is it when it is not who you are anymore
When the challenge is not achievement
But instead sanity in the midst of someone else’s dream
A dream that is no longer worthy of your own
A dream from which you have awaken
A dream that cannot exist within your own

What is real is love
What is real is love
What is real is love

Where is the plan for this
Is it to walk the streets of a crowded city
To meet someone either as scared as you
Or someone who is not scared at all
Do you tell them who you are
What you have said
What has happened to you
But to which face in which you see do you speak
I could smile at buildings
And at a poor woman cleaning the building
Ask her how she feels
But what if she cries
Should I begin where her tears dry?
Should I begin where her problems lie?
Is it her problems that is love?

Where in the night is the woman who lives in another city
Where in the night is the woman who has heard me speak
Where in the night is the woman who loves but cannot trust

I made her that way

And now there is something else
Is it love?
Is it art?
Is it just to live
With memories
Or with hope?

I have to find a way
Find a way to be in my head with a new dream
But the last one was so perfect
And it ended the way it was written

Life has its moments thats' for sure-
And for some problems there is no cure-
WE all go through the motions day by day-
Resolving our problems what can I say-
WE hope for better days to come-
Solutions work but only for some-
So do your best always as time moves along-
Always do the right thing not something wrong-

Okay.
Sure.
Play victim.
Play with drugs, cigarettes and alcohol before you can even legally drive.
Play with knives and fire.
Play with all those things you swore you never would.
Play with the bad kids.
Play unloved.
Play overdramatic.
Play this game you love so well.

...because no matter how good you are at it sooner or later you are going to lose.

I can't wait, I hope I'm there when you do.
Because you wrecked me.
And I am STILL healing.
The scars on my wrists
are all your fault
the reason I sometimes can't eat more
than a yogurt and half an orange for lunch
is because of YOU
the reason I hate myself
the reason my mother can't trust me around blades anymore
the reason my mother cried for so many nights
because you broke her
you broke me
you SHATTERED my friends
and loved ones
you triggered her
you led to her eating problems
you contributed to the slits on her arms
the scars are STILL THERE
you made us genuinely want to **** ourselves
and HER
the one who was so strong she never drew blood
you even drove her to trying to with a pushpin
a f!cking pushpin
thanks to you!
we used car keys when we got desperate
scissor blades
safety pins
needles
construction paper edges
nailclippers
the ends of wires
circle makers
the backings of earrings
so many more things
sitting alone
you turned everyone against us
everyone
all of our friends
the whole school
our families
EVERYONE
you wrecked EVERYTHING
you killed us.
made us want to **** ourselves
now I just want to **** YOU

so go ahead
PLAY.

I had  some problems  im going to be away for a while
Gonna miss you my friends
Just writing this to say goodbye

if you listen to album enough on repeat,
you can almost hear in the intro to the next song
in the last notes of the one still playing.
if you talk long enough, i can almost hear how the disjointed points
you’re making flow together in the same way
with their stitches still showing,
you were never much good at sewing.
you’ve got a mouth like a rock ballad, sweet in your bitterness.
crooked chords that still sound good with the way you smile.
you’re a record-breaker and i’d never skip a single song.
i’ve a got a list tucked in your pocket of songs that make me cry,
you are at the bottom of my list and the top of my lungs
you were like good music;
your notes didn’t always sound right
but you always made me feel something.
a number two pencil drumming,
tapping out at the opening to some love song on your desk
like the steady beep of a heart monitor,
proving that you’re alive with every hit you make.
you never stop moving.
once you told me that you kind of think
if you sit still too long you’ll never manage to get up again
like an old, out-of-date computer
that might never turn back on if you switch it off.
an object in motion tends to stay in motion
and an object at rest tends to stay in rest,
and sometimes if you get into to bed you never get back out.
procrastinate your way out of your problems
and into to bigger ones.
sometimes to get your life together, you’ve got to take it apart.
a butcher with a butter knife, a knight with a wooden sword.
i’m scared of taking apart things i don’t know how to put back together,
and i’m **** at reading instructions.
because i guess sometimes when i write you poems
they're more about me than they're about you.
i don’t have cold feet, just cold toes, and sometimes i think
if i paint my toenails ruby red then my feet might magically take me home
to the house i never wanted to be in when actually i lived there.
life’s funny like that.
you never want what you have until it’s framed in your rearview mirror.
so i snuck out my bedroom window and i fell through the roof,
and when peter pan told me to fly, i just fell.
the sky was too polluted to find the second star to the right.
i guess i just didn’t believe hard enough.
and if believers never die then maybe cynics never live.
it makes sense i guess,
you were born out of a coffin, you were born in an abortion clinic.
even you can see the irony,
but i think you just were too stubborn not to exist.
you were a mess way before you ever learned how to clean yourself up.
birthmarks on your ribcage, consolidated rage
i memorized every piece of that you let me.
you told me that you’re not a shield, you’re just a bullet.
you’ve been a long-standing fistfight with meaning
ever since you were old enough to throw a right hook
and get your tongue tangled up in the chorus.
past your prime and still throwing punches,
i guess i respect the tenacity and pity the lack of self-awareness
at the same time.
you never knew when to bow out of the ring.
you never knew when to give up.
you never knew which fights were losing ones.
and you say “i’m no good” and it just makes me wanna get to closer
to find out for myself
and you say “leave while you still can” and it just makes me wanna stay
to prove you wrong.
guess i’m a glutton for punishment, i’m misery’s permanent tenant.
the only one dumb enough to leave behind roots in the riverbed
and expect them not to get washed away.
now you’re always on my mind,
i keep seeing cars like yours drive past my window.
you were lanky and you hated ******* that word when i said it,
laughing into your mouth
but you were all limbs, and now i’m missing you like one.
i go searching for addresses to buildings
i know that are probably still abandoned just see
if any part of you still lives there.
the neighbors tell me it’s haunted,
little kids cross on the other side of the street to avoid the chill.
but i’m stubborn, and i’m not afraid of the ghosts.
a foreclosure sign is still in an overgrown front yard.
a mailbox with the flag still up.
furniture all covered up in blank sheets like the paper.
it was all over before it started, you moved out before
you even unpacked all of your boxes.
i think you left some behind.

STOP THESE FEELINGS

Feeling trapped with no where to go
I wish I had feelings of happiness to show
Depressed, anxious and raging, too
Some may ask, “what else is new?”

They say time heals all wounds
A cliché like “the man in the moon”
I may try to let it all go
But it still feels as badly as stubbing my big toe

Work through your problems they say
I have been trying that every **** day
Stay positive and keep going straight
As if that can stop it at a faster rate

Journaling, poetry and prayer help on the days
In which I feel the likes of rot and decay
Escaping this world seems the only way out
For some people it always seems the quickest route

I dream of finally finding everlasting peace
But the suicidal thoughts need to cease
I have to remember God has a plan
I’ve got to stay here just as long as I can

Rusty Hinges

The wood showed its age and its time of neglect it creaked open slowly onto the courtyard the
Individual standing there was you or me the time varies from hours days and years our circumstances
Are different but they do flow with a commonality as one being human so many life experiences happen
To us all but controversial identifiable problems make them Taylor made for us as individual and at there
End they are retold with tread that has a universal constant that can mean many things to a lot of
People that in one degree or another applies to us but in the arena of life and its lustful expositions we
Turn and are in tough straits loss slights disappointments fall across our paths as shadows and in them
Are portents of more unknown difficulty no one gives much thought to the quick and vanishing problem
Unless it holds after the fact considerations that will be a continued problematic ongoing occurrence
These are the ones that we will fight a running battle with they tax our resources emotional or financial
Possibly both are effected nerves and stress makes for quiet an ordeal never to treat something in a
Light manner but that is the very success and exit that all desire the quote its darkest just before the
Dawn is in fact infallible truth but take it a step further with purposeful pause call to a halt all the anxiety
The voices silent or audible picture clearly the situation as best as you can see it and as hard and
Unanswerable as it surly is at that moment your need is to garrison your mind behind high walls
Making any thoughts that would enter at least they will be high unattainable thoughts not just
The little thoughts that have no power they only undermine and play to your fears in this haven begin
To undergird and reinforce stress points that are easily identified make the grandest leap of all deface
The diabolical disjointed confusion that has arrested your mind so terribly and scoffs you with the
Central means of attack confusion scatters your will your God given abilities to combat the war like
Ways that are found in life decisions need to made in clear eyed settings that are not similar to a
Volcanic upheaval but the scene should be a table and chair the floor smooth with sensibility the walls
Hung with diplomas and other unquestioned achievements that vouch of steady prolonged success
No matter the undertaking the chair the place and focal point of a fount that bares on and in it a grand
Ancient hall lined with shelves and shelves of books the gathered power of many minds implements and
Symbols that show in deep detail by their very appearance those that have entered here were men of
Gifts and striking abilities that they now gladly share they set around the table awaiting your questions
With answers that disarmed all foes not one loss was found and all this rest on one hinge and that is
Faith rusty of truth but by humble supplication and expectation you polish it to its formidable formable
Brilliance and Excellence burning away all shadows leaving in brightest detail the answers you seek
Nothing comes to your life without attending gifts attached the greater the struggle means in accurate
Measurement of how much growth you can expect

Dear He-Who-Shant-Be-Named,
I'm sorry I'm never good enough for you,
I'm sorry you found someone better,
I'm sorry I didn't have the body you wanted,
I'm sorry I had problems.
I'm sorry I miss you,
I'm sorry I loved you too much.
I'm sorry I didn't see the signs.
I'm sorry I can't move on.
I'm sorry I see you in everyone who passes by.
I'm sorry you were my first and only love.
I'm sorry I couldn't stop saying sorry.

I'VE HEARD OF SHANGRILA - THEY SAY
THE HOTEL IS  NOT TOO FAR - JUST STROLL
IN, ORDER YOUR MEAL AND THEN I'LL
TELL YOU ABOUT THE DEAL : FIFTEEN
THOUSAND POUNDS FOR TEN PEOPLE,
SOUNDS A BIT STEEP AND I'LL ASSURE
YOU IT'S NOT AN ERROR - FROM SHARKS
FIN SOUP TO ABALONE, MUST BE BETTER
THAN HOME-ALONE OR IS IT? GROSS
OPULENCE FOR MOST OF US - ANY TRAVEL
PROBLEMS - WE'LL BUY THE BUS - A MERE
SNIP FOR MR. ABROMOVITCH - WE WOULDN'T
WANT TO QUEER HIS PITCH, PERHAPS IT'S
TIME TO PAUSE AWHILE, JUST TO SEE MY SICKLY SMILE.

Sometimes it's a murmur,
an angry whisper,
under your breath,
when the impatience
mixes with silence and
makes the air too thick
to really talk
****

And sometimes it's out loud,
when the anger has turned to flames,
no longer pressing in on your head
but being rejected from your body
in an attempt to cool it
before you
explode,
scream,
punch,
I don't give a ****.

And it's gone,
and it's better,
and somehow,
it's much better
than simply
breathing and
i m a g i n i n g
your problems away

I strive for any sense of sanity my body has left
and you could inject lithium into my bloodstream
all you wanted but that will never take away
the stream of conscious to which I face every **** day.
And I speak these words in a volume only sincere ears
could hone into and leech off of for their own sanity,
but things are never that easy.
Affirmation is like a drug and sanity like a ghost
you get addicted to those things in which
we are not usually accustomed to
that sincerity so comforting it's hard to let go.
Most people do drugs to forget,
but ******* with you,
I want to remember every single moment-
harness it inside my memory and save it as draft
so I can post it to my retinas later that night
when I'm loosing sleep because I cannot rid of the ghosts
I've spent both my night and day fighting off.

I want to crash and burn
I want to live a life like all the crazy poets
and authors and writers that never held dear to their sanity
they embraced their madness and embarked on a journey
throwing away any sense of normalcy they had.

But maybe, I should do as you say
or do as my father says-
ya know,  just deal with my problems on my own.
It's kind of crazy because you both say the same thing
which leads me to believe that women do end up
marrying their fathers which I fear-
more than any other obstacle in my life
because my broken wings were built upon my fathers shoulders
and upon mine is more weight than I can carry,
So i'm sorry you've become a muse for my misplaced sanity
and a drawing board for my dilemmas
but baby, you have not seen dramatic.
Not from me at least and it's not safe for me
to hide this part of myself away from you..
But it's like you want me to.
And one day, oh god one day
I will crack under the pressure placed upon these shoulders
and try to fly with these broken wings
and I will crash and burn like alll those people
and it's then I will realize
that hiding away this part of myself
in spite of everything I know,
will be the best and the worst thing I've ever done.

and I'm so ******* tired,
that tired isn't even the word to describe it,
more like futile or unavailing because
I hide away parts of myself for the ones I love
and they itch to come at the surface like a growing tick
ready to explode distracted by euphoria filling it's stomach.
I am not okay, and I'm kind of tired of acting like it.
I am a ticking time bomb
ready to blow your ******* head off at any second
one you will never be able to disable-
and this, this is manic depression.
I wish it was as beautiful as Hendrix made it seem.

Black is all I can see
Vacuum is all I can feel
This place feels like the universe
And I am...just floating around
Hiding away from the truths of the world
Going deaf...by increasing the volume of the music
So that I can't hear them
Going blind...by pretending to sleep
So that I can't see them...
Just trying to survive in this world of science and logic
Where I can see artists losing their worth
where poetry or painting should be taken just as a hobby
                                         O really!?
How will you survive with that empty bucket of emotions...
that lays inside your heart?
I am just tired!!
This world is nothing more...but a race
Where is the peace?
They ask you to feel...
'Peace!' (smirks)
Ask the kids who survived the war...
who still see missiles in their dreams...
the family who lost their son...why?
the dumb police officer couldn't stand his color...HIS LIFE MATTERED!!!
That depressed kid in the corner of the classroom...
Ask them about the peace...
and it would be a bird they heard centuries ago
Where is the love?
They write about....
Look at the ****! we are calling love these days
Teary eyes, broken hearts but smiling lips...
This is my generation...nothing more but just
SAD HEARTS WITH HAPPY PICTURES.
Where is the freedom?
when they say...follow your heart!
As they have got problems...serious problems
with your faith, color, body, sexuality and what not!
That they do not even hesitate once...while crossing limits!

No...no...no...it won't happen!
The doors to peace, love and freedom are locked
in this world...
But...today...I heard it...I saw it...
And may be...you did too.
So...let's just find the lost keys...to open these doors...
I will begin first.

inhale,
exhale,
watch my problems float away..
no more stressing,
no more problems in the way.
i fly nightly,
i am grounded by the day.
i don’t medicate,
i meditate.

The fruits of another day
                     have been mashed up
       by my mother's
                treasured mortar and pestle.

   I will gather the
         crushed seeds, and    sprinkle
               them with care
  upon the freshly baked

           fluffy, strawberry
                          faith cake

          of which I will slice
                      and feed my family,
     and all of those
             wishing for a bite of love.

                    I will take the
                             sunny, sweet juices,
             drop in a handful
                          of humble tea leaves,

   pour in half a cup of
               fervent longing's
fuzzy, pink lemonade,
  
          a generous amount
  of golden, savory
                 poetry syrup,

and three spoonfuls      of my grandmother's  
            lovely minty remedy
        for calling forth
                           the spicy, sultry desire to live.

      I take my
               Lush Life's Drink
         into the Purple Midsummer Cafe,

   and quench the thirsts
                of translucent, paper people
  tolling throughout
endless
          days and nights,

          solving countless
                      math & society problems,
  writing novels of
      insecurities, acceptance,
& hope,
   
         and every evening,
all gathering at
       the Purple Midsummer Cafe

to faithfully consume    
my
     Lush Life's Drink,

          paying up the small fee of
  a tender smile or so,
         a warm enveloping hug,
                  a handshake of
               gratitude & humility.

All nutrients stopped our connection is lost, dead flowers on show it's cost has grown old.
The shell still shines but insides seem so rotten, are problems afoot now foundations have gone?
Invested energy transferred in a team to entertain, the state of fans patience often the last to remain, others in charge soon slip down to be replaced.

Restrictions enrooted are cause for concern, training affirmed to restart from step one, whilst some mistakes are made to be learnt from. The clarity of a curtain call can affect us all, when feeling the woe at the end of this game, no one likes to be played with in poor taste.

I just can't get it together
Problems, including the weather
Plan and try
As time goes by
They can't hold me back forever

Even when I face problems miles high and fathoms deep
my books still make me cry.
Sometimes love in stories rings truer than any reality -
it is close to that I'll keep.

We built a beautiful relationship together
sturdy and effective but also appealing and bright

You watched the relationship
you had modeled ours after
crumble to the ground
and all the flaws revealed

We had both seen this before
but it was different this time
Maybe because our relationship
looked like theirs once had

But what we could have never seen
was all the cracks in their foundation
All the problems
they hid in the basement

relationships don't crumble in a day
they slowly erode away
each crack left unfilled
takes away the stability a little more

the rusted out center
of your parents relationship
left only an outside shell
a gust away from complete destruction

The outside doesn't matter
we aren't doomed for the same fate
just because we used the same bricks
its the upkeep that matters

To have a good relationship you have to fill those cracks
You have to work to make things stable
they don't always come naturally
but the results of working together are incredible

Time is nothing new, knowing knots will never be undone
Evil crawls in the minds of man, manifesting itself to be beautiful
Accepting and acknowledging all aristocrats who abuse their power
The world is bland, where a woman loses her womanly flower
Covering each other up, taking out the surface not the root, it’s wrongful
Uncommon is the book, imagination in the individual’s ideal of no fun I sit pondering upon these problems, probing a way into fixing all
When a crumpling crucial crumping sound, roared through the skies TV’s turned on, radios turned up, the Television speaks of trumpets
Couples, church-goers, children cry to the camera “Ready your Caskets” Fire and hail trail to the ground, blood blaze behind, Earth in her demise
People jab and judge each other, nobody understanding the Trumpets first call.
As the people panic in passionate rage and fear Everything is going, diminishing, dying, covered in dirt, grass and trees burning
A second trumpets serenades through savage yells
Mountains begin to burn and fall, along with the church bells
The seas slowly from within spoils into blood curling
Every child glances up joyfully as staircases appear. A ten horned beast raises out of the sea, mouth maliciously open with intent
Scrambling and screaming sub-beasts crawl into an unhinged jaw
It rages and shakes the ten kings hoarding on each horn. Three kings crumble, crash to cultivated grounds, their bodies torn. Blood bathed, entitled; enraged the beast takes earth as its thrall. The people scared, scratched, scraped and tortured bent. Blackened beasts bash past the saints
Looking for sin, sinister civil devils
Trumpet three blows, while sitting upon universal long ledges
The demons demonstrating patience beyond the ages
Hells helpful and hazy corruption seen at different levels
Through mans lounging, Wormwood falls to decide fates. The world is weeping through wasted weaves of wind
Disgusting smell of dead rides the tormented tasteless air
Swallowed by the fourth trumpet, bravely bashing through gusts
To find safe haven upon the throne of tusks
No animal though that tasted the tenacious disease will be accepted in care
They will be banished into the cold forever dark air, where they will shiver and cringe. The world is silent waiting, wallowing for the fifth When it comes Angels, breath beneath the blacken clouds
There striking wings linger as they blow three cornets In the sky, seeping through the soundless sky sails comets
A sight for the still faithful all watch in a crowd
As the comets releases Locusts from beneath. Laying lusciously low in a most lucid state, The ***** Her words wager, weave, win through the minds, falling for false prophecy
Ripping right by the remonstration of being The ***** of Babylon
Woman and Man fall for the words, seeking haven from hell hereon
Adult to child, wishing away her whims, she is the spiritual adultery
No newly made Neanderthal seeing her for the devils zany zealotist abhor. With The ****** lies, breaches the Mother of abominations
The one obtuse and first woman to walk in the Garden of Eden
Human at first, ripped apart, away from innocence; Lilith Haste to Hate, Revenge against the rotting earth, taking away human health
The goal stupendous, shaking sorrowfully, any good is forbidden
For killing is her passion, her art, her own Revelations. The sixth trumpet signals the release of the most dangerous Soldiers
The four enticing beings of end that are released from Euphrates the great water
Their massive army mounting at two hundred million minimizes us
Useless and hopeless everyone allows plagues in their bodies with lust
All people want is death, decaying, disembodied from the soul, without a bother
The ***** still preaching, but not a single being is listening to her false words of a philosopher. In the mix of mist and swamps I continue to sit and scrutinize
Every evil endorsing embassy of hell-spawn
Floating and coating, demoting every satchel of thought
As every defecate of remorse leave me in distraught
My mind is distilled where my initial thoughts are withdrawn I empower the sour cowering stare of the devil’s eyes. I cannot look away, the steady statue stare Embracing escalated enmity, fighting for it not to invade my mind
Never knew cruelness existed and brought beings such delight It covers itself in kindness and caring as it wishes me good night
When wrathful vengeance I awake, to aspire, to find
A torture most terrifying, tossed into twisted tarred souls, my religion I forswear. A game of chess, played between each, no physical state
Dictating the defence, drawing out, hitting, harassing and hackling
Pawn for a pawn, the pound of flesh taken from the absence of attack
Everything twists and twines around each feeble thimble of thoughtless comeback
Devil sends soulless soldiers, crashing crazily through bones a crackling. Finding flirtatious moments to pass the queen into the kingly gate. I have lost; no match made on earth can win with the Devil
Although I lost, I still hold onto faith that in the everlasting end I will be acknowledge by my God, I’ll will be shown care
I sit, sore, scarred, seared of my dignity, I pray
In my mind the Lord’s Prayer is the only way I can defend
I know beyond my brave but bashed thoughts that I kept away from evil. The loudest, most holy, mind clearing trumpet rings
The seventh and ending of the biblical war
A hole rips the sky, rendering useless, entirely beautiful though
Angels dash rescuing the ravaged by faithful souls, protection from beasts below I am avenged, my mind repaired from the unprotected un-releasing pain that I can now ignore
I praise to the Lord, lavishing, laying beside his council of twenty-four of forgiving beings.

My life and soul has always been like an overcrowded subway station,

everyone rushing to run away from being struck by my own damnation,


their faces getting blurred, I can’t recognize anyone anymore,

only thing I see clearly is my life from my hands pour,


But who am I to judge? I would do the same if I were them,

perhaps that is where my problems really stem,


I see my issues and my faults, my every wrong step,

but I do nothing but blame it on that I haven’t slept,


those who stay I push away, sooner or later,

so for my own lonely abyss I am the sole creator,

I love how
when you sleep
all your problems disappear
for just a little while
but my problem is
trying to go to sleep
with all of my thoughts
screaming at me
to stay awake

Days pass
The ships that are relations, crash.
Years can disappear in a flash.

Too many problems we couldn't hash.
Too many currents, flowing towards the past.
I knew we couldn't make it, the gap between us was too vast.

Substance abuse and word misuse
The ugly side of passion roared til it got loose.
And resentment led me wondering where the fun went.

I wasn't happy, attitudes were pointed at me.
Backed into a corner I usually sting,
I needed to escape, fully aware of the actions it'd bring.

Already you've dropped more tears than I would wish on my own mortal enemy,
Myself.
I can no longer help you, for leaving is what was leading me back up
through what was my own downward spiral.
To be happy with what you are and all that you have is vital.

The vibrations passing through were infectious and sometimes toxic.
It was that way throughout the lion's den, and there was no way I could stop it.
I would leave for peace sitting next to trees over-looking the lake.
I'd usually do so alone, because if I had stayed in that home I knew my future was at stake.

3 different times, too few happy rhymes, and a fair share of crimes..
I knew eventually I'd have to show my spine and lay it all out on the line.
Never emotional enough for you, yet more emotional than you knew.
2 single tears were shed after our time was over, one for me, and one for you.
Cherish what was, but we needed to part.
The ending usually reveals itself as a new start.

I never wanted to break your heart, but we couldn't keep up smiles.
Sometimes you need to get away, which is why I'd be gone for miles.
The trials, I found were no longer worth the effort, for a balance was no longer there.
I may seem brash and distant now but don't you dare make it seem as though I don't and never cared.
The tears you drain over the phone hurt me, but I have to remind you it's too late.
Just don't look back with hate, it's just how it is, whether or not one calls it fate.

We weren't all that we could've been but hopefully we'll learn.
I'm going after what I want in life, now it's your turn - to switch lanes, and ride.
I'm sorry, and I know of your pain.  But as you progress, just brush me aside.

You're making yourself sick, but you'll get better, and I honestly hope that.
This is my attempt at self-healing; a new, loving habitat.  
Sounds cliche. but even though you may feel shattered like glass,
I've been there before, and this too shall pass.
I'm sorry


It's been awhile that I needed to get this off of my chest,
But I know from the deep-depths of my heart, that this is what's best.

No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
No you don't wanna mess with my team.
No you don't wanna **** wit my gang
No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
Aye..(no you don't 9)...

(No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
No you don't
No you don't wanna mess with my team.
No you don't
No you don't wanna **** wit my gang
No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
/No you don't2/..Aye..No you don't )2

No you don't..Yeah..you ******* don't want nothing wit me mane, no you don't..I'll tell yall straight up one wrong move then its (bang2)..to yo dome, & I ain't wit gun violence mane, I believe in a fair one on one,  but if one fight then we all fighting that's just the rules of my gang homie, Aye none of these stank ******* is getting a dime from me, no they won't..no these major labels won't use me like a dummy,.. no they won't..Aye
I'm creating new waves like Jonesboro beach, Only For The Real Entertainment, theres only one real one mane & that's me,Uhh..I'm not soning none of these ******* so don't claim me to be..Aye, Yeah mane..No you don't wanna **** wit me lames Aye, just stay away..its gonna be alot of problems if you do **** wit me mane, so please don't play wit me, I'm saying that nicely, don't try me, because you don't wanna fight me..(no you don't4)..,aye I'll take yo **, & **** her just like Tupac did Faith  then feature dat ***** on a song wit me..Uhh,Yeah boss player status *****..Ayo..I gotta stay pimping, Never simping..
Noo I don't trust these **'s my *****, I learned that from Snoop man..Ayo

The game should never be sold just told, & Noo I ain't just selling dreams I'm blessing the streets..Yeah dawg, Uhh, I gotta get my bread up dude like a Sara Lee truck stocking up, so noo I can't pay attention to all these **** ******, &  I can't pay attention to all of these thristy ***** **'s Noo.. young *****...I'm on go,no slo mo,OFTR, work fast pace like a crack ****** in a race, mane..Aye.
OFTR, we made it to our destination, even tho the Feds was steady watching me plotting tryna stop my plans to succed,..We still prosper, mane..Yeah we still prospering, Thank God, we made it to the the top, Yeah ***** we in the sky, We so high..We so fly.., like a Jet, in stealth mode, we came outta no where guns blazing destroying anything in our way man..Aye man
**** being famous mane, I hustle tryna attain wealth, yeah I rather be rich than famous shoutout to the north side thugs man..Uhh..

(No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
No you don't
No you don't wanna mess with my team.
No you don't
No you don't wanna **** wit my gang
No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
/No you don't2/..Aye..No you don't )2


Aye..(no you don't16)..
Aye.., I always knew that I was gonna be big dawg, Yeah I was a star way before stardom,Yeah..in my mind I was living like I already dun made it to the big leagues man, that's how you should think too..Yeah I was a Rockstar way before I was rocking alot of stages..yeah Imma professional at this , Aye man..these other ****** had music out way before I did, but they still under me,no competition, they so amateur, Yeah I'm way ahead of all of them busters..
They suckers , literally my *****..Aye,Yeah..

Uhh, **** being patient, chase after yo attractions full speed, ****** gonna hate always especially when you tryna do better mane, **** em..forget em, let the hate just motivate you Yeah..keep yo head up do what ever that you gotta do to feed yo fam, but don't be a ***** *** made *****  *** *****, be your own boss, Yeah build up your own corporation & teach others the ways of becoming a boss player too man..
Yeah..
I been dreaming & thinking about my future , & I know its much brighter than the present is mane, I'll be so grateful when I can finally live in it homie,..Uhh I'm staying up all night I'm just too excited for it, like Christmas morning so Imma keep putting more work in, Aye..versatile lyrics Yeah man they say practice makes perfect well I'm a good example of it..yo, I  thought of these lyrics not on purpose but subconsciously my *****, Uhh Imma g, a genius,...Yeah mane

No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
No you don't wanna mess with my team.
No you don't wanna **** wit my gang
No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
Aye..(no you don't 9)...

(No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
No you don't
No you don't wanna mess with my team.
No you don't
No you don't wanna **** wit my gang
No you don't wanna **** wit me mane..
/No you don't2/..Aye..No you don't )*2
(no you don't *16)...

The united States should NOT send military force to intervene in Syria not only because Syria is already been through some conflict why should we put them through more? Also, if we go over there acting like we are big guys who **** anything; we will lose our soliders as well. Which is irrelevant because Syria is not our problem but going into their territory will make it into theirs. Which will initially **** INNOCENT PEOPLE. Why should we start a problem with someone who has never had a problem with us? Seems like we are just bullying everybody and that is unjust and very wrong in many different ways & perspectives.
It is unacceptable. I don't understand why we are even deciding if we should or should not strike them.
We need to maintain our needs before we try to help others, all of our economy problems, low employment, our debt, we have too much on our plates already it would be simply stupidity to put our nation out there in the spotlight just to be on "top."
If we keep up with this cocky and over confidence of our nation, one day the countries surrounding us might just join together and strike us just because we are too over our heads. And people who go too far are sometimes better to not be there than to be.
We have values we need to protect, we have lives we need to continue, we have mysteries we need to discover! We need to be more into what BENEFITS us, not what is possibly going to bring us down. I am so confused on why the United States feels as if we are always going to be okay with what we do, we must not let the favors & the ways life has been given to us for granted.
To gain power, we must be a source of pleasure for those around us, if anything we should HELP Syria rather than killing innocent lives. Out of those innocent lives, those people could be the most smartest people to live, but we wouldn't discover this person because of our foolish thinking. We could even sugarcoat the countries around us, being their "best friends," promising them the moon, playing to their fantasies just to keep them in a better state of mind, more of a content feeling rather than the feeling of getting attacked. When we are in the position of feeling like we are about to get attacked & in their case might end up all dead, it's a natural instinct to react in ways we cannot explain. We don't have to promise gradual improvement; rather promise the great & sudden transformation, THE *** OF GOLD.
We can all eat like kings if we evaluate our minds in complexity, eventually resulting our radiance to lift its self up with grace.
Be positive, think Godlike. That is the main focus for those who believe in the Christian Bible, The main goal is to try an attempt to God's ways & adapt to him & how he thinks. He helps, he gives, he protects, he watches, he is God! Why wouldn't we want to try an bring positivity rather than negativity? It mindboggles my mind backward, forward & all around on how evil our generation is coming to be.

Patient F
presents with a
special syndrome
of false masculinity and
dejection.

He is on the border of a
manic-depressive
diagnosis.

He asks, “Doesn’t your mother have a
lot of
problems?”

One is tempted to say
that he’s the one
with problems.

One settles for both. Both of you guys do.


He raises his voice to spark fear
and assume authority,
but when he’s at the other’s
mercy,
he lowers
his voice
— almost pleading,
nearly completely
complacent
and nearing
indifference —  
and wins the other’s
trust.

“The other” is his wife.

When he addresses his daughters, he is stern,
joking,
and sometimes completely
“away.” Not exactly
there.

One doesn’t completely know when to approach him.
Once a simple question turned into a threat.

Patient F is impatient.
He looks out the window,
he stares at his iPad,
he angrily rakes leaves
or toils under a car,
and he stays awake at night until five in the morning.

Community college is a blur.

He integrates his feelings into essays, but the
words
aren’t quite
spelt right.
You understand him, though, when you want to.

Going home on the train and getting a disappointed message from him was
hell.
One isn’t exactly sure where the intonation is, but you
fear for the anger awaiting you under the porch light.

Many things aren’t explained to him.
American parents have instilled values into him
that he
doesn’t really care about
anyway.

The other is a foil rather than a partner.

Pain and politics —
Another day in the life

Of Patient

F

The true is right here in the details
She feeds off of what fails
Try's to rebels
For she leaves unmarked trails  

Nobody knows who she use to be
But you see,
the glaze in her eyes is a often disguises
She likes to minimize problems,
Or often hide them
She stands by what's wrong
Instead of right
Others often consider her soul out of sight

She says she might have changed a little
But others say a lot
For she's often caught up in the little trail of dots
She's says I love myself a lot,
she thought it would be easy to rebel,
But it's like hell
Her smoking **** and taking pills,
she says it kills

For she wants to change
And is hoping to start today
She wants to start a new trail,
And knows it won't fail.

Nothing as lonely, as
a lonesome man traveling.
With the company of his thoughts
and some ideas.
Many problems and no solutions.
Music as his company,
the plane isn’t so boring.

Last week’s red wine,
(in the form of *****)
on his notebook,
has allied with the moistness
of his room.
So he skips a page

and writes a poem.

This thought is just another tree in a forest of problems
So I'll cut it all down, I'll burn this forest to the ground
Make it so I no longer have to think
So my brain can finally melt away
We can start anew
With all this extra lumber
Build a whole new town
One with a little less corruption
With a little less thought
More conformity
Because what broke me was not acting the part