I wish I was a ladybird
Scuttling on a ledge,
Never thinking, never worrying,
Just living on the edge.

Free to stay or free to fly,
Whatever I decide,
The world is what I make of it,
I simply ride the tide

But I am like that ladybird,
Free to fly and go.
Do I need to get the timing right?
No!

Jump! Fly! Go!

I was in a six car collision
there was an executive decision made
to execute an evacuation of a body done with precision
by helicopter excision to division this family
and make a permanent revision to the vision held.

It's probable my daddy was being taken to a hospital
but he could have been going on a popsicle ride
to a proverbial icicle ride in the sky for that's all I knew of flying
volatile tears that never healed unstoppable fears.

You rest your head on my shoulder, as the sun holds back the night,
The roads are firewood behind us, the front seat blocking the light,
We’ve had warm feet all morning, our shoes cast to the sea,
And when we got tired of water, or your parents call us to tea,
We go.

Our legs are sore from the breakers, the sea preventing seat,
We walked to the end of the real world, where the lines between us meet,
And what we found when we got there, our walk under the moon,
The stars above us breaking, they whispered until soon,
We arrived.

Strings plucked by cold fingers on cold hands.
The hand-bone's connected to the heart-string....
Sinew rasps against brazen cords, etching orchestral symphonies on the stone in my chest.
Riding the waves of screams, cries, songs...time.
Upon that crest I ride, ever away from that distant shore;
     Ever away from that distant hope.
Ever away.

Caught in the tide of cold spring air.
Cool air sifted through fiberglass filters. Menthol kissing lips, freezing the air across my teeth.
Welcome, Nicotine.
Welcome to my body; lift me on your crest, carry my inhibition.
Invoke your calm upon my weary mind and let me forget I am alone.

Alone? Or...alone...?

Faces will be forgotten.
Sand covers cracks...sand covers much....
Time covers much, but not all.
Who will you remember best? Whom will I never forget? Who won't I have to?
The sand will fill the gaps, but...my house is clean....

Clockwise from the front, right: chap stick, lighter, change; nothing; wallet, gang-ties; pump; phone's in the jacket.
This is my identity, always with me - my companions. But none are company.
None can give what I seek. None, it seems.
Desolation is a feeling. And feelings console.
At least you can be certain of their purpose, at least you know who they are.

Who are you?
How will I know?
When will I see that wry smile and be certain of it?
Give me that stone heart, that I may etch my symphony upon it.
Let my sinew warm those brazen strings.
Ride upon my crest.
Be my Nicotine, my sand...my certainty.

come with me in the driving rain
Take a chance,make a dance, a thunder dance
Impending lightning sky, potential suicide
You're crazy you cried, Yet you need me inside
so we ride on the lightning together
And knowing one strike puts us together forever

blood red, cut with me, make your pact, can't you see
You could just call me crazy and run away far from me
Yet you know I would die, the most torturous cry and pleads
just so you could live and breath, with my guts on the sword as I bleed

Mother maybe said I was poision for you
Yet mother never knew how much I'd die for you
Yet mother never knew how much my love is real for you
And how much I pray that we may become a solid crew
Like bonnie, Like clyde, without the bullet ride!!
Impending doom, Lightning Sky.Im consumed with you til I die!!

Mother still says Im poision and you are permananently glued
Stuck to me, cant get away, wont fade away, cant come loose
But then again I like your obsession and I surely adore mine
I swallow you up like a possession, Im a vampire I **** you to make you my bride

We cut, we wear goth, everybody says we went off the deepest end
We said thats enough, painted our lips black, Our hair looks like sin
We are one in our dress, we are one in our flesh, we are everything
Im thankful we possess each others brains and nothing about us is lame
The Day I met you in the palace of my heart is the day you came
And the song we sing is the most heavenly in the lightning and the rain

Mother maybe said I was poision for you
Yet mother never knew how much I'd die for you
Yet mother never knew how much my love is real for you
And how much I pray that we may become a solid crew
Like bonnie, Like clyde, without the bullet ride!!
Impending doom, Lightning Sky.Im consumed with you til I die!!

I left this carnival,
or so it seemed to be.
My views have
Changed. Good or Bad?
I won't be the one,
To say in the coming years.

Girls with hula hoops,
Boys watching in awe,
How fantastic the
Colors seemed to swirl.
Like the fallen leaves
On a windy day.

But not the trees
are mainly bare, as
the circus crowd
Gathers around to
Catch the acrobat if
they should Fall.

Outside on the dirt path,
is me. sitting in thought,
Talking to more then myself.
The trees, grass, and
The earth listened to
my many tricky questions.

Why can't life be
Like tonight.
With all the vendors,
music, and travelers.
I tried to hide from
the rising sun, instead
my body made me absorb,
every bit of light.

The sun was the reminder,
To return home and
be in this other life.
More free then the
bird floating above me,
I thought of people
and the whole world.

No money left in my
money clip.  I found some
water.  I saw the ring leader
of the carnival and,
She eagerly smiled
"Life is what you make it."

No help this was, as
more and more contradictions
Sprang from my mouth.
Again she just smiled, so
Pretty was her smile.

Early that morning,
I tried to talk
to other beings, spirits,
but no truth was found.
Then like a lightning
bolt hitting a tree,
and causing fire everywhere,
The answer hit me. On
the ride home, I had
The same pretty smile,
as her.

They used to call me the shoe less poet, because even though my mind was never quite in one place, my thoughts always knew where to fall, and I walked with a steady pace. When I called someone’s bluff they didn’t stuff around and after all was said and done. She had come undone and I was the only one there to listen, so with burdened hearts and heavy lids, she bid me welcome into her bed. I kissed her ripped skin raw, and she saw just how gentle another human being could be but she didn’t see how I could possibly respect her if she said no, because a certain time ago a wolf in hot boys clothing had stolen into her heart, but not before ripping her apart.
He had said, consent is ****.
She was 17 with her heart in her chest and just trying to do her best with the subject of objectification and recommendations from her friends to go for it, when he rounded the corner and saw her and saw that what she was was beautiful.
only two points pretty and three points potential love partner, he’s heard stories of what she’s done and how with a certain touch she comes undone, she came undone under his thumb and now the thing is he doesn’t even know what he’s done, but instead he’s said.
Consent, is ****.
So get on your knees, she doesn’t need another reason to heed her mothers warnings that boys will be boys who will beg and plead and lie, but she’s still trying to come terms with idea that she might actually be worth a second glance, another chance, a single dance. He was never supposed to be anything more than a single pleasure, but he put pressure on her bleeding parts and now part of her feels inclined to decide to let him lie down beside her and hide from the monsters inside.
He said. Consent is ****.
Like her ***** is a wave he can ride until the tide of her mind comes to terms with the lies he’s presented her with. ****, like maybe if you stopped to check, when her thighs opened it was because of his vice grip, when his lips met with hers it wasn’t with love, but lust and he must have been drunk because surely a sober man would know better than to force a 17 year old girl to hurl as he shoved himself inside her, hiding his guilt with the lilt and the tilt of his head and his killer line, “consent is ****.” Baby, it might be, baby it can’t be. Because she’s trying to say no but it’s hard to mutter words when his face is curled into every positive memory about this place, when she has to drink her weight in *** to over come the memories of a misshapen youth, you can bet shes begun to become undone, but it’s not in the right light, her brown hair doesn’t shine in the same way that she has in past and the last thing on her mind was the way you grasped her behind and told her that.
Consent is ****.
Like, maybe if she just said yes she could stop bleeding better yet, make a bet that basically says that she’s useless without his hand to help her stand, perhaps if she just said yes and moaned a little louder it would block out the bleeding passage of herself that is begging and pleading and trying to lead herself to show her true colors, which is red. The shade of shame spread on her bed spread. So when I kiss her wounds and slowly wound her around my wrists, I have to take things slow so that I can’t hurt her and puncture her soul because she’s been mangled tangled around lies and this mistruth that was presented to her when you said.
“Consent. Is. ****.”

The Nail-biter saw her as his saving grace from a life of lonesome worry
She saw him as a meal ticket and a free ride
He over looked her granny ash
He disregarded her speech impediment
Always holding his tongue when she stumbled on certain words because he loved her and all her imperfections
She had a bullet proof black hole heart and his common sense was stuck in a sound proof cell as they had what seemed to him to be, passionate ***
He worked day and night, coming home with dishpan hands
Saving up to buy her a bouquet of hydrangeas, tulips and baby's breath
She took them and said, "Wow, thank you you're such a good friend"
The Nail-biter left and drove his car into the nearest embankment
She did not attended the funeral, she was too busy having dinner with The man with OCD who didn't have tics but tocks
She knew the routine and loved every second of it

Rather the clouds were a motorcycle,
Jesus rides up, lowers his sunglasses.
You ride off with him into the sun
not setting, but crashing violently
into the ocean. Rather, you receive

an inconspicuous e-mail, that you write
off as spam. “Save Your Soul Pls Read”
in the subject header was easy to ignore,
easy to delete. Jesus on the other end
of the illuminated screen was trying to reach
you. Even now his hand comes out of the
screen like a cartoon odor, beckoning.

Rather, you hear three thuds on your door
and Jesus bursts through, shattering
the components of your door-****. He is dressed
in fine clothing, soft, his *** looks great.
“Come on. We are getting you the **** out
of here.” He still has his sunglasses on.

Rather, a firefighter runs down the stairs, turns
the iron on, starts the dryers, and hits the circuit
breaker with his axe. You are on your belly, gripping
smoke in between knuckles, fingers. Emerging
into daylight, Jesus rides your pet Rottweiler,
like a horse, out your front door.

Rather, a 1995 Honda Civic sputters
towards you. A boy in plaid stumbles
out with a briefcase that stumbles
open. Cassette tapes stumble
out. “Would you want to go
for a ride?” There is a moment
where the road disappears over an arc.
You two are falling together.

Rather, it is  raining walls of white
foam. Jesus is in a bright yellow poncho
laughing heartily. He throws your body into salt
waves. At first, the shock of cold muted
the harpoon in your gut. Jesus is dragging you
as you spin the harpoon inside you
                                                            f­irst horizontal then vertical.

Surrounded by green
The trees whisper their secrets
My heart is light and my mind is free
I stray from the gravel path
And find myself at a pond
The birds are chirping and the sun is shining
I think I forgot my sunscreen
It didn't matter though
In that moment I was alive
And one with the world around me
I breathe in the crisp air
It smells of leaves and the sea
As I watch the fish swimming
In the water beneath me

As the sun sets
and I turn to leave
I hear some footsteps
Catching up to me
And in my slow pace
I turn to see a young boy
His hair is matted
And he looks alone
Lost in the world as tears fill his eyes
I kneel down to speak to him
Ask him where his family is
He starts to cry as he speaks
Very few words but just enough for me

He claims no one loves him
That whenever he meets a new family
They get rid of him
Call him a burden
My heart hurts for this child
He can't be but 5
And yet here he is
The place of my peace
Seems to be his nightmare

I couldn't let myself leave
Knowing this little soul
Had no place to call home
I offer to give him a ride and a meal
While I call to speak to the authorities
His eyes brighten and tears threaten me
The sparkle of happiness is unexplainable
And my heart feels for him
So I lift him onto my shoulders
And we go home

No one knows anything about the child
His name appears nowhere and the police think I'm crazy
They come to check on him
But they can't see
How can you not see?
My mind is racing as I try to comprehend their words
They say I need some sleep
And maybe I'll feel better in the morning
I make a bed for him with blankets
And pillows from the couch
It's not much but it seems he's slept on worse
So he smiles and drifts off to sleep
I wonder what he dreams about

I wake up to a heavy heart
Tears choke my lungs
And I don't understand
Nothing has changed
It's just a new day
I head downstairs and the boy is gone
The pillows and blankets are tucked away
Exactly how they were the other day
Maybe I am going crazy

Days turn into weeks
And my heart still weighs on my chest
My muscles ache and now
I can no longer rest
I haven't left the house aside from work and school
I can't convince myself to do anything
But the weight on my shoulders
And my clouded mind
Beg for some relief
So I drive to the place that was my sanctuary
Until I met him

The grass has yellowed
And the trees have silenced
The sun burns into my skin again
But this time it hurts
I search for the pond but cannot find it
I walk for hours and still there's nothing
But a rustling in the brush peaks my curiosity
And as I break through the dying leaves
My foot sinks into a slurp of mud
A swamp lay before me
The water green and murky
I swear it can't be the same
Not the beautiful pond I witnessed the other day
I scan the water for the fish
Maybe that'd prove its different
But the same golden scales reflect back into my eyes
But there's something else
Something wrong
My reflection

I lean in closer to get a better view
A gasp escaping my lips in disbelief
Bags surround my eyes, which no longer sparkle in the light,
my hair flys in every direction
I see no life
I barely recognize it as myself
But that didn't disturb me so intensely
No, in those waters
The person that stared back at me
Was not alone
They supported something on their shoulders

As I look closer in disbelief
His eyes stare brightly back at me
But it appears we've switched
Because he has my glowing green eyes
And I have his
They're dark.
Empty.
His arms wrap snugly around my throat
And his knees dig into my ribs
He looks genuinely happy
And I swear I hear a whimsical laugh
Echoing off the water

And I realize all too late
That he was never really concrete
Only a concoction of my mind
A projection of part of me
A part so lost and alone
Playing the victim and
Begging for some attention.
And I opened my arms to him so easily

It's been years and he still haunts me
He weighs on my shoulders
Keeps me awake at night
Because if I sleep he's no longer the priority
While he drains my energy
I cannot imagine my life without him
He represents the deepest part of me
My damaged soul and empty heart
I chose to take on this responsibility
And my entire world has changed
The shadows haunt me on the brightest days
And the beauty i once saw
Takes a new form
as the dead inside of me.
Yet he listens when no one else can
He understand my fears and pain
As burdensome as it is to support him
I know, with him, I am never alone.

His name is Depression
*And now he'll never leave.

It's imposable to catch the wind
or stop the rain from crying
To stop the birds from singing
or stop a child from lying.

you cannot catch the wind
or prevent the rain from crying
The birds will always sing
children will never stop lying.

Just lie back and enjoy
the journeys life long ride
you know your on the right path
when it brings a tear to your eye.

Sheila..

i hate it when im sleeping then suddenly i will feel like falling

i hate it when im running upstairs when suddenly my left foot slips and to the floor, im falling

i hate it when the teacher hands me my report card and sees my grade falling

i hate it when im practicing how to ride a bike and yet my body keeps falling

i hate it when people cut trees then it ends up to the ground, falling

i hate everything that falls

but i wonder why i liked this different kind of falling

this thing i called falling in love with you

Life makes me want to run away
And never turn back
And leave everything behind;
The pain, the hurt, the negativity.
Life forces me to grin and bare it
while I suffer through it all
And inside I'm falling to pieces.

Life makes me want to take your hand in mine
And ride off into the sunset
Without worry or doubt in our minds.
Life is hard and we all know it,
But it's worse when you're sick
Like me.

I wish the world
banana seats and ***** bars
chariots of childhood
transports to imaginary kingdoms
erasers of boundaries
freedom makers
brother bonders
vehicles of the delegates of peace
a better way.

Bolted to a heavy metal frame of
metallic green with
ape hanger handlebars
the playing cards clothes-pinned in spokes
making siren noises with our mouths
rope-lashed weapons aboard
discovering creeks
woods
forbidden backyards and
never-before-known games with
barn side lumber and pop cans
double-dog daring inedible things
teasing girls
riding to secret clubhouse meetings and
the playground.

I wish the world
our playground
summers of innocence
bottomless wells of laughter
center of the universe
June to September
ages 8 to 18
bean bags and ringers
tether ball - hand and paddle
basketball and baseball and
box hockey
(where it was encouraged
to give children axe handles and
a softball
to beat through holes
in a 2 x 6 board
defending a goal
with their life and
busted knuckles).
We liked it that way.
We lived as legends.

I wish the world
a bike ride with friends
ending at the playground.
For there has never been a bad day
on a banana seat.

At the basic stage of learning a language comes pairs of most commonly used antonyms,
words meaning opposites of each other like the earth and the sky,
far away and close by,
love and hate,
metaphorically speaking even you and me.
Except, sky begins right where earth stops,
so if you really think about it only the soles of our feet are truly grounded,
while our heads have always been in the clouds.
Distance is subjective, so depending on how fast a ride is or the resolution of a lens,
sunsets and full moons are that much closer than a lover's touch.
Love and hate are not two sides of the same coin,
or the extreme ends of the same spectrum,
but rather the same side of the same coin,
exuded by the same people at the same people for the same reasons,
interdependent,
coexisting,
one defining the other.
Well, I suppose that leaves you and me.
As in it literally leaves you and me out,
metaphorically speaking,
figuratively speaking,
theoretically speaking,
you and I aren't antonyms after all because,
as it appears we do not define each other or anything in between.
Like the ocean and a bumblebee.
Here I am calm and blissful with sunlight bouncing off of every wave,
dramatic and roaring, heightened with emotions soaring,
bearing an infinity of life, continuously giving, nurturing and upholding,
but all you want is honey;
metaphorically speaking.

Life's tides can be either a good or bad ride. Good if you coincide take it in stride,

Bad if you have to much pride or try to hide, you'll be in for a rough ride.

Just glide never collide or ride cockeyed for many have found themselves

By the wayside, a lot have even died when they backslide while trying to ride life's tides.

Now if many a tear you have cried its because life's tides can misguide, come disguise as a joyride.

To bring about foolish pride which will leave you mortified.

But there's an upside. You don't need to abide if you learn to glide

You'll stop being denied become purified, able to see things from the inside.

Which will make you Bona Fide.

She was faster than a rattlesnake
She could split a log in two
She was better than any hand
I think I ever knew

She was famous all throughout the west
But, it really was a shame
She wasn't known for what she did
She was famous for her name

She could rope and shoot and ride
Better 'n any man I know
But laugh at this girl's name
And she'd hog tie you for show

Christened Patricia Bollinger
From Baltimore she came
She didn't like the term cow girl
So, Cow Patty was her name

I ride higher
Than your suicides
You write:  

Take me back,
I’m sweetly reminiscing of
Solar wings embracing
celestial winds
Sunsets of broken chords
Summer's shattered sword
Winter’s ornery
Jaded blue jays
Gray's vacant face

I salute your honesty
But blisters wrought on
A calloused heart
Cuts deeper
Than the oceans' void

Let me sleep whimsically
With rotten melodies
To keep me from
Changing the tone of
My stuttering dreams

But,
Soft, teeth speak
Like broken branches
On dilapidated trees

And
I’d spend
Eternity
In the chime of your
White fire voice

Or
Those olive green
Teasing eyes
Keeping me sheepishly serene
Whirling
Weaving
Into a timid peace  
  
Yet our
Crashing
Tongues slam
Into sour Suns
Swallowing the seams
of interconnectivity
Scattering liquid beams
of entropy

I forget those days we
Wasted on the morbid
Memories

there was a little hedgehog and his name was spike
he used to ride a around on his little bike
riding through the woods and all along the lane
any sort of weather even wind and rain.

while riding down the lane  one fine sunny day
he heard a little cry not to far away
he rode a little closer to see what it could be
it was a little shrew very sad was he.

the poor chap was stuck in the muddy clay
no matter how he tried he couldnt get away
hedgehog he was clever and new what to do
so  he dug the clay away from beneath the shrew.

little shrew was happy free from all the clay
he said goodbye to hedgehog and went along his way
hedgehog carried on riding on his bike
shrew he wont forget his little friend called spike.

People out here thinking  life ain't worth living
So they take a life.
I guess they find worth in killing
More worth in drug money
More worth in pride
I wonder how many folks died
Shot dead because of a  side eye
It don't make you a man because you ride..
For your crew
It don't make you a woman because you lay on your behind ...
For your boo
I don't love the streets but I love the people in them
Locked in a mindset can't find there way out of the system
Forget the street rules!
The G-code!
The hemoglobin soaked street code
I'm not that guy.
Father in law behind bars.
My dad shot yeah he the one that died.
I will only die for Christ's sake
The one that died for me when I was ***** as a used ****** on cracked asphalt.
I owe the streets nothing!
Yet I must to tell them about the blood of Christ.
Understand if your blood covers the streets it does nothing!
Just death ..pain..a open chest.. Mortician's and Funeral Homes
In the streets everybody stiff stuck  rigamortis

A readied man prepares himself for the schedule he can keep
But readied men are not prepared for the undetermined deep
The readied man will hold his page of dates and names and numbers
But those prepared for certain doom uncertainty encumbers

In I ride with fist held high
Burning gleam in either eye
Shouting upward at the sky:
“Burn the syllabi!”

Those ready men with paper sheaves, fledgling spears, and Pilot pens
Will find that with the chaos waves of fractal truth the world bends
And in the bending all exists as nothing more than blank code
So ready then your warships, but you’re tacking down the wrong road

In I ride with standard high
Burning gleam in either eye
Shouting upward at the sky:
“Burn the syllabi!”

The Four Horseman: Complexity, Uncertainty, Recurrence
Trajectory will maximise Lyapunov’s occurrence
Put on your scheduled armour and when you ride that rigid line
Remember that you penned it in and you claimed it would be fine

In We ride with fists held high
Flaming embers in place of eyes
Shouting ‘til the echoes die:
“Burn the syllabi!”

It is a scorching 95 degrees;
Hotter than hell for this time of year,
And I am wearing a dark grey fleece jacket.
I have no clue why I’m wearing it;
Maybe the fates decided it,
Maybe it’s the work of some god I don’t believe in.
But as the sun rays keep shining down
Through the open roof of a powder blue beamer,
Causing the hood to shine like gemstones and
My skin to boil and fry under the dark fabric
I won’t take it off though,
That would ruin the feel of the trip
Of having the wind of the road making it fly
Like a living creature with its own mind

And I am sitting in the convertible
Sniffing the fumes of gasoline and toxins
Holding them in my lungs to ferment a while
Before letting them all back out slowly,
Reveling in the taste of the road.
Going nowhere rather quickly
Flying past other shining super bullets
speeding down the black barrel
I've already traveled these same roads.
And therefore, this trip yields nothing new
Except for a few more bugs in my hair
And a few more miles on my journey

**** me off
this ride on
it don't cut
the grass it's
just wasting gas

He supposed he should be grateful
For all that he needed was apparent
Air for life
Roads for travel
Water for drink
And dirt to remind him from where he came

He was not ashamed of his past
It was where all his dreams were born
He could ride a horse
Work with his hands
Love a woman
And live alone no matter by what name

He saw the people with sad faces
Even though they lived their dream
With new cars
Talking on phones
Beautiful homes
But they had already lost the game

They could never imagine love was enough
For a man who left his country for more
For his children
For his wife
For his mother
It is his will to be proud no matter how plain

I wish you still loved me
the way I still love you.
I'll never understand
why you had to leave.
It is completely apparent
to me that you hate to
see me sad.

You hate to see me cry.
No one likes to see
someone they love fail
when they try and try.
Or stop trying.
Slowly start dying inside.
I will never love again.

I welcomed you in to life
with me and you liked it.
You accepted the challenge
of commitment and love
then let it slip away.
We had a  tough ride
but we saw so much.
We loved every day.

You saw the skeletons
in my closet and asked
for a top to sleep in.
The week before you
you left you wanted
to share a roof with me.
Now I'm seething.

You said you have doubts
and feel it isn't fair to go on
with doubts in your mind.
Except you didn't really try
to understand these doubts
with me by your side.
It would seem you never
truly had me in mind
on this occasion.

See darling,
I had doubts in my mind
doubts about life and
felt it wasn't fair to go on
making everyone around me
so miserable, I wanted to die.
I never took my life.
I thought long and hard about
how much of it was fine.

Turns out all of it was.
Only the heart chooses
its owner and you
are the owner of mine.
I get angry thinking that
you left because I did
something wrong.
Maybe I didn't show you
enough love or perhaps
you just got bored of me.