I have often turned within my grave to ponder of the reason why
Upon the date of my birth, you took me to your secret hide

Underneath an aspen tree within the deadest of nights
You took to me like a moth to a ball of flickering light

With the devils own smile plastered upon your face and the slightest of hand
You produced a sanguineous jar of hearts and an ominous jar of black sand

You grasped my hands in your work enured and fairly calloused paws
Looked me in the eyes, and told me to forever leave my pale hands raw

"Never soil your untouched hands, your hands and eyes you shall avert'
"Never bruise, nor ever hurt, nor shall they be ever touched by dirt,

"Never touch a rose, nor touch a bee, as danger is an all you see,
"Close your eyes my little darling, and all of life shall be but a dream."

With the trust of a mothers child, I kept my eyes tightly squeezed
Wished upon the star within the midnight sky, wavering in the breeze

Held my hands up to my chest, hoping the fluttering and staggered slips
Not to be seen by your face within the light of moon as from the sun it dines and sips

Of a heart that had only once been given to me and should have forever stayed mine
But the greed inside all mens' hearts want, and reaches out to grasp a young new 'hind'

With another slight of those calloused hands, you took my life for your own pleasure
And stole what was rightfully derived as mine; a beating heart, you took your leisure

A working mind, once a clock, now fully had come to a skidding stop
You took my bones and my teeth and used them as a fertilizing crop

The very worst thing that you did, you took my pride when you took my skin
Shaved off clean with a diamond edged razor and worn as if you were mockeries twin

Burried underneath that beautiful aspen tree, I've been given the time to remold
But my life had been stolen, the soul forced out before the bells had tolled

In the time it had taken for my pieces to remold, I had realised something then and there;
There were always things that were meant to go untold, but the truth is ringing upon the open air

You wanted more than what was offered and had bitten off all you could chew
But if I'd known back then what I know now, I'd know real good men only come in few

It's not simple
It's rusted nails breaking skin
Lightning flashes in a hurricane
The crack of a body hitting the pavement

It's the pinch of nails in your palms
The tremble of your legs when you think they're watching
The ache in your chest when your binding is too tight
But not tight enough

It's not a stormcloud, it's a typhoon
It's not a discomfort, it's torment
Its the steel beams in your chest snapping under pressure
Your skeleton crumbling so maybe your chest will be flat then

But all those rusted nails and steel beams
Heated by the fire and fury of passion
Remold into something new

Someone who can stand a bit straighter
Speak louder
Tip their chin up
And show the world who they are
Who he is.

Dysphoria is a skyscraper crumbling to ash
But it's also scraps of wreckage
Reminded into a safe haven
A place of rest
A place of comfort

You can rate me,
You can bait me,
You can freight me,
You can strait me,
Simulate me,
Even better
Drop a roofie,
Game a debtor.
You're so groovy, misbehaving,
Misbehaving,
Give it to me,
Trouble waiting,
Fascinating,
Always mating,
You can wake me,
You can slave me,
You can grade me,
You can shave me,
Integrate me,
I pulsating
A new navy,
All the skimmings,
Underpinning
Jehovah's witness,
Keep on stalking,
Better fitness,
Keep on shocking,
Shell is thinning,
Gettin' gotten,
Rot 'n' reeling.

Don't touch my bikini.
Better smile when you see me,
You can stare
That's a freebie.
Don't touch my bikini.
Looking is free,
But touching's gonna cost you
Something.

Smooth and lanky,
Hanky panky,
Got no treat or
New York Yankee,
Super leader,
Count to seven,
Go to Paris,
Break the leaven,
Roger Maris,
Bleed the Czar,
Shooting star,
You're so levy,
You're so sunny,
Getting ready,
Here's the money,
Socking heady,
Making honey,
Toasting herons,
That's not funny,
Waiter Betty,
Way too ****,
You're so on it,
You're so honest,
You can fool me,
You remold me,
All the preachers never told me,
Heavy breathing
Punting reason,
Welcome season.

Don't touch my graffiti.
Smile if you dare,
Oily oinkers everywhere.
Keep watching, you graffiti.
Next time you'll learn
That touching's gonna cost you
Something.

Two roads,
Both of suffering,
A travel of torment,
An alcoholic buffering,
A mental health descent.

Two roads,
Both amnesiac,
Disasters once foretold,
A twisted aphrodisiac,
A trauma to remold.

Two roads,
And no yellow wood,
The lines are blurred and gray,
And no choice is ever good,
With the forces at play.

Two roads,
And a traveler,
With sanity at stake,
The wrong choice could unravel her,
A choice she's yet to make.

I am sad that I am always alone.
Please God, won’t you throw me a bone.
I always smile and wave to those I know,
but inside, my heart is going cold like snow.

I am trying being me, doing what I was always told.
You always say, don’t give up yourself. Be bold.
Now I am bold with a smile that brightens any day,
But all I want is for you to remold my heart like clay.

God, help me to walk and be like you.
Send me a sign and that’s what I'll do.
Let me use my gifts, and my smile,
to walk along your road for hundreds of miles.

I like my body.

But sometimes I wish
I could remold my fleshy fat body
like playdough.
Of course, this would only work
if I were a sculptor.

I’m not.

Perhaps if we were playdough people
there would be molds one could buy.
Empty negatives that would press
and squeeze until one fit
the manufactured, predetermined shape.
But then
we’d be cookie cutter playdough people,
everyone the same.
Forcing ourselves into bodies that aren’t ours
and wearing faces that
some mold-maker
somewhere
decided was more beautiful
than my real face.

I think I’d rather stick
with my flesh and fat and blood and bone body that,
for the most part,
I like.

Don't hold onto opinions as if they were solid concrete objects.
Hold onto an opinion as if it were transparent and malleable.
This will enable you to see through the fallacies and remold the opinion to its true form.
For an opinion is simply just that, an opinion.
And like all opinions, they are interchangeable
in accordance to the allegations of fact.
And a fact overshadows an opinion in all cases
and that is a matter of fact.

We didn't plan this exit
Its HARD you went so fast
My heart races just thinking about it
I had next week planned out for us
I wish all you did was not show up but
We all miss your absence.

Tick tock I try to prepare for this day
It hit me hard when you left
Tears welling my heart
It crumbles like  clay
I want to run with you faraway.

my emotions like lightning struck
my feeling like sleepless eyes
my regrets like raining days
my thoughts like shattered rocks

I long for peace of mind
U left a hole in me
I  try to remember our love
Your promises, character, your touch
Then I shiver, WHATS NEXT??

One day, I'll clear my heart
Reveal my loneliness to God
Let him remold my pain to beauty
And I will bless the Earth the way you blessed me.

Dedicated to the bleeding hearts (families of the Nigerian Plane Crash), To friends who have lost someone. And to my Grandma. R.I.P
http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/world/2012-06/05/c_123239997.htm

Mozart changes the color
of eyes from deep blue
to see green.
Work with me and I'll
summon up everyone's
artificial ancient animals.

Sleek thin machines
whizz with mechanism
pumping out more and more
machines to make machines
to make metals
for more machines.
Shine chrome greased
and spinning while
white coated retrievers
pace exactly random,
occasionally checking
their clip boards.
Machines whizz on,
we could tune a cello
with their perfect hum.
We could tune a tuning fork
with their perfect hum.
Machines for materials
for machines that melt
and remold old machines
to new.  Born machines.
Wet black discs
slide clean downward
only to spiral
upward again.

Clarinet to oboe,
slurred crescendo
back down in again.

Then forward:
Back,
Up,
Left,
and left music
back down in again.

"Where's our end?"
and back down in again.

"I see the top!"
and back down in again.

"Talk to me, please!"
and back down in again.

"Throw me a float!"
and back down in again.

And sink, and sink
back down in again
back down in again
back down in again

"Come home"
"Come home"
"Come home!" she begged me so.

"I won't"
"I won't"
"I won't!" I told her so.

"You're mold"
"You're mold"
"You're mold!" he's shouted at me so.

"I'm already home,
At a place that I can fold,
Breathe without a head cold,
Where I own all my clothes,
Won't come back 'til he's been remold."

blue star, single handed
with a *** of gold
I reached out and spoke to the old
I went back to the last one and the last
all the places where my heart was almost sold
and I remember
by you, the split one I was told
you spoke so wise so bold
renered your eyes toward me and said
behold

and I
did

watched intently the love you scold
the fires that drenched our
household
with love

but still I was cold

it was the earth I wanted to hold
the shape of it I wanted to remold

but our thoughts are controlled
and us humans we unfold
to that which glitters
all that which is
gold

I am not a diamond
I am merely flesh and bones
filled with gravestones
and broken jawbones
blistered backbones
for reasons
that will maybe forever be
unknown

my hormones burst
in my in my bones
my thoughts release groans
and I love the sound of the tone

I am here,
alive
happy
and alone

To be old doesn't mean out in the cold cause you have greatly slowed and can easily be controlled

Or becoming enclosed people trying to remold by gaining a foothold.

That's an absolute no. Because to be old is to behold countless stories untold so they need to be consoled and never try to remold, that's just plane being an *****.

Yes, the old need to be bestowed for great wisdom can be foretold and it will come back tenfold.

So when you are with the old, don't scold, don't explode and never try to control because it will come back twofold when you grow OLD.

Your lips look so soft,
and your voice; like velvet, so sweet.
You make me feel so warm
from my head to my feet.

I love the way you look at me -
your eyes blue like the sky.
I wonder what you're seeing
as you look right into mine.

I wish you'd put your thoughts into words,
wish you'd whisper them into my ear.
With that smooth voice you have
you don't know how I long to hear
you saying what you think of me.
Tell me exactly what you think -
please, stop leaving me guessing..
Analyzing every move you make, even the way you blink.

I know, I'm a hopeless romantic.
Daydreaming of you constantly,
wishing you'd man up.
Just guts up and ask me!

Maybe I'm rushing things,
but how can I not?
You got my heart racing
and now I can't make it stop..

All I want is you and your heart,
I'll do anything to get it.
I know you want mine too,
even though you already stole it.

The.first time I laid eyes on you,
you took my breath away.
I know that you're a gift from God
and I hope His plan is for you to stay.

You make me feel like a queen,
a beautiful, delicate princess.
I'm still trying to see
what I'm supposed to make of this.

Never have I felt so loved,
except by God Himself -
you make me feel so wanted,
you've helped me see myself.

Sweet boy, look what you've done;
you melted my heart, set it free.
Your beautiful heart for God
has helped to remold me.

And your beauty on it's own,
it lit a raging fire..
I don't think you know
about this passionate desire.

I just want to hold you,
make you the happiest man alive.
Darling I can't explain
how truly hard I strive.

I strive to let the "me" in me shine,
to be the masterpiece God planned.
I want to be perfect for Him so that maybe,
just maybe, He'll have you be my perfect man.

Mummy,you're my plan B.
I wished you knew that.
I wish i could say it out to you.
But these words are sealed.

During my bad days, i look at you.
How your eyes sparkle.
Smile glitters.
All that is enough to make me -remind me- stronger than before.

Some days
I see how your eyes gets heavier.
Body gets weaker.
Hands get rougher.
But you never once complain.

Some days
I see you crumbling.
Like how dried breads turned into crumbs.
So allow me to pick up this pieces
and remold you.

Some days
I watch you shine
Like angel walking by or like sunshine after rain.
Those days you made me feel alive.

We don't share much.
In Fact
I don't share any of my problems to you.
But you know me like the back of your hand. Like a student remembering formulas.

Mummy, you're my plan B.
Cause no matter what happens
I'll always find my way to you.

The one who whom i look up to.
Catch me when i fall.
The one, I'm proud to call
"My wonder women".
Tearing steel door off its hinges.

Cool as a frazzled cucumber
I take my words and clench them in my jaw and my fists
I fight every urge to throw them in your face or
deliver them in a well-timed slide smoothly down the table
because I know they would destroy you
or at least buy your silence
because your talk is so cheap

But I hold them.

I return them to my mind and break them in to pieces.
I remold them as light and hope and love.
Because hate is a weakness, an ugly waste
empty sounds leaving bitter taste
so I could through words in your face
but that won't be the case
because hate is just too easy.

my heart is no longer gold
i've grown cold
its not in my control
and it isn't something i can remold

“To The Women in My Life”

Take ownership of every inch of you
Each individual strand of hair
On your head
That glint in your eyes
Your sharp, dangerous smile
The suffocating curve
Of your hips
Your slender legs
That’s all you

The declarations exploding out of your mouth
Like fireworks
Popping, popping, popping
Beautifully disrupting silence
Beautifully making your presence known
Staining everything it touches
In hot, vibrant color
That’s all you
That all belongs to you

Remember that
Tattoo it on your heart
Because people will try
To wipe it away
Like eraser shavings taking up space
You are not temporary
You are eternally beautiful
Let my smile remind you
My natural laugh
My loose shoulders
You are phenomenal
A strong, powerful woman
You’ll leave your print in the stars

—

“Step Up”

“...I think it has to begin with women who have the creativity in their hearts and souls — who want to be musicians, who want to be engineers, who want to be producers, who want to be part of the industry on the executive level — to step up.”

Why are women being told to “step up?”
Do you not see the tears in each word
The blood in each lyric
The fire in every performance
You cannot wash it all away
Or remold it like clay
Women do not need to step up
Neil Portnow
You should step down

If we’re all actually
in the hands of a
Christian God—
His tight grip has melted me like
chocolate,
and I’ve slipped through
His mighty fingers—
a puddle of delicious
rejuvenation.
I spread everywhere,
molding to all of the
bumps and
cracks
in the floor.
Sweet, sweet freedom.
His son can never
mop me up
and remold me into
His image.

She wore the purple pieces of my skin.
I wore black in soul and spirit.
By the postal service once-
"You and me can dance in here".

May we kiss again when old?
By the fire tell our stories.
"What a shame that you can't stay"
(I wave goodbye) you thought - "don't worry"

"Steal that car" - you said
"So red and oh! so flagrant,
(In the sea we must let go)
Take me there, my precious vagrant".

Die with me, my younger lover.
Die with me drowned by the sea.
Let the wind remold your ashes,
let the water wash our lashings

It's global,
it's gotta be.
A prefrontal  lobotomy,
all I can see is electric,
eclectic tastes, wasting away in the urgency of  this ****** surgery.

All that I am is s.p.a.m.
Superficially
possibly
a
man.

Send in the volts and let me drive,
but something tells me, that in coasting I'm not really alive.
more electricity,pity the grid under which I have hid and played dice with the demons,inoculating myself against the woes of this world,
it's all global.

Tear drops like rain and in comatose again I throw a double four,
Eight like the eight ball and rolling as I fall under the knife.
Life,
give me a break.
You take what I ain't got and that's not a big deal,but get real,what I ain't got is all I have got and you still take the lot.
Send in the amps',
let me curl up in the cramps of electric,slick on the oil,put my brains on to boil,let me forget all I know and let's get on with the show.

In the surge of brain blitz when my head's blown to bits and they start to remold me,fold up my history and remake my memory,
all I can see is electric.

Lord here I stand
At the river's edge
Ready for the cleansing  power
Of the water
Ready for the cleansing power
Of your love

Clean me
Both inside and out
Remove from me
Anything impure
Remold what is left
Into a useful tool
Energize my soul
Tune me to thy will

If my tomorrows were in summer's reach
I'd sail this day, on waves of bitter wine,
towards a newer dawn, on bluer beach
for ocean sprays, sting none to lover's brine.

The amber heated sky should melt her cold
that frozen 'neath my eyes her parting words;
another's light has won her love's remold,
let then each phrase be fed to hungry birds.

The Gulls can stomach salt I cannot bear
for they're accustomed tasters in disdain,
and pine for greater feasts, for I not dare,
but castle sands, and hide my love's domain.

Tho' if no love, there'll be no summer's day!
For all will be as bleak, as is, today.

This worlds needs to change,
It needs revolutionized minds and sanes,

Politicians corrupt and misuse resources,
Voices of people interrupted and ignored,

What has this world come to?
Where have all these Mavericks and Dissidents run off to?

How is it that one preaches them?
Maybe a few of these can help reshape, remold and restructure the world.

Memories are written

In ink that never dries.

We recraft and remold them

To help us all get by.

Some of the things that you remember

Are just a bunch of lies.

Sometimes I start a poem

But then my interest dies.

I think, "what's the point"

If the truth has been excised?

these words like daggers
that you throw around
piercing the flesh
and soul

you must not know your own strength
because you can move a mountain
you can break the bend
remold a heart

all with these words
these tragic words

only some understand
these letters... can move you
these words...can change you
a sentence... can wound you

only some see the invisible force
that you can make crumble and decay

you haven't felt it
your own words
like daggers

To feel as though I may fall
   Upon painful memories from so
      Far ago

The battery of feeling unloved
    Which whence it was born from

To fall to my knees
     Is where it takes me

There's no hiding
     No plight quite ever allows
  
Just cradle myself for there is
     Never one to understand

How it crumples me into
      So many folds

That I can no longer unbend
      And try still to remold

It lingers in the stillness
      Of my lonely home

Never do I want to feel as though
      I may fall

"Bad dog! Sit "
They told me to stay down
on my old ****.
To be mediocre
and take commands.
Offered me a treat
if I obeyed
and conformed.
No! I will not conform
with such a small feat.
I'll fetch me self a real bone,
and then remold
my craft until I master
my skills.
Do not come at with that tone,
you could have not survived
the hood of stone-cold
predators I put down.
Proved them all wrong
and went home with a gold
collar that said:
"CEO of my own life."

and i will remold myself into something new
because failure means nothing at all
when you are everything there is

I can control and remold my ugliness on my own

With you or with anyone else it takes complete control