This is what seperates us:
Words that twist and turn,
Tiny hurricanes swelling up
Raising inside my throat-
Coughing and wheezing,
I spew them out onto
The eagerly awaiting paper,
Waiting to see what sticks,
While you just sit there
Vacantly waiting for something-
Anything, to sweep you off
Your perfectly positioned feet.

Time seperates more than you'd imagine
I'd swear every day feels like a mile
We've become out of touch now and
You're out of my reach yet again
When all that I ever wanted was your hand
Time allowed me to have it only once
But you'd be mine, I could see through my eyes
I could imagine it for that moment
And I imagine that moment in daydreams
Infinite hearts crossed in my head
Our lives played out like campy broadway shows
But daydreams are nightmares in waking hours
The pain of lucid moments like grasping empty space
The cup will fall, the water spill
It's stepping on glass just to breathe
I have years of memories to draw upon
Times spanning distances that'd bring us closer
But memories are like looking through a telescope
So time seperates more than you can imagine

what the hell is love anyway? why is there this supposed special connection to someone. And why do we fret so much when it goes away? what makes it different than a friendship? is it the extra doses of horomones you get from kissing? (wich, lets face it, is oly a trigger to the brain to think of ****** contact) why must humans search and find this ONE person the propose impossible promises to? Most animals just let their ****** need envelope them when they choose and dont think too much on the subject. But doses of religion and morals of society prohibit us from doing that. Are those morals the things telling us to seek out this unreasonable aspect of love? are those morals the secret to these pain-inflicting circumstances? becasue, all feelings are are certain levels and mixtures of horomones in the brain, so love is nothing more than a science. The thing that seperates the link between enjoing someone as a friend and as a suitor is ***. and the eason people get heartbroken and cry over losers who hurt them are merely the fault of morals

the air is so thick that even your thoughts melt away
in the Southern heat.  sweat starts pouring until your
clothes start clinging to you like an unwanted lover.  heat and sweat seperates the true Southerners from the wannabe's,
who don't truly love a place even when it's too **** hot.

hey dad.
how are you?
i miss you. a lot.
although you're just a text away, i still can't bring myself to carry through.
i hope she treats you well. and i hope those boys aren't ornery *******.

i sometimes think about the day at the st. louis children's mueseum.
it was happiness.
i think that's my reason.

i still haven't told you about it; the darkness, i mean
my darkness i should say
because i know about yours
maybe we can bond
since our biological bond isn't real

sometimes when i'm sad, i want to call you
but you're probably busy
or maybe you don't care
i don't know

i wanna tell you how i can't stop thinking about filling the emptiness and longing, with substances you've had issues with in the past
speaking of, you're drinking again.

i blame her whole-heartedly
although it pains me not to give the fault to myself for once,
i still will always blame her

did you know that when you got engaged, i wanted to jump off a cliff?
probably not.

do you know that i still sometimes feel like that?
but not just becasue of you.
mom is a factor and sonia and grandma and friends and boys
but you,
you were the one i never thought would make me feel so ******

it's cliche, i know
an other suicidal teen girl with daddy issues

i'm thinking about what would happen if i were to visit you in the fall
imagining her on your arm makes my heart feel stretch across the grand canyon of space that seperates your world and mine

someday i will tell you
everything
every feeling and thought and wrong-doings
i will say it all

dad, i miss you to the ******* moon and back
it's five in the moring and i'm thinking of the way you used to take care of our yard
you were just getting bad then
i was young
i didn't realize
please know i've grown into a woman
without you
i get it now
i'm imagining seeing you in september and you sugar coating the truth and me crying over a false reality
so please be honest with me if you want to be in my life
i run on truthfulness and cynical humor
and if you can't handle me
tell me
because i deserve the truth as much, if not more than you

i love you, ron.
and you will always be my father
no matter who comes in goes in my life
you will walk me down the aisle and we'll be happy
as happy as we were that day at the st. louis children's muesuem

i miss you so ******* much, dad
call me back as soon as you get this.
i hope you are doing well.

Letters of love.
Show me the barrier
That seperates continents.
Will I know
The oceans sink
The love I send.
Wrap me up in glue
And seal the words
I love you in the conflict.
Lonley is the sour milk
On my desk.
The smell of socks rotting
In the wrestlin room.
Brings back the yoga from moorakas.
Make me fresh like a corpse of
Dead chum.
Fill my heart in a river from the
Red eggs I killed and gave to
Crab fishermen.
The heads are open with clear kelp teeth.
Unwind the widdower who says
To punture her lungs with a knife.
He knows the pain and conflict
When she breaths to die.
Snap a picture to tells us 100 feet
From air yeilded a 25 pound trophy.
The stranger lets us watch his knife
Open a rare white chinook.
The fire we watch was gutted and rinsed
In a metal sink.
The deeper we dig into flesh
The more we see war.
But the smell of salt water
And white bones
Feeds fresh souls.
And smokes our dreams when the red metal who
Holds hickory ambers.
The solitude is unforgiven when I
Die in dreams.  
Therfore I wake up next to
The chunks and blood red wine
As though gun shots provide reflection.
Back pack with me in empty meditations.
And understand we all must progress
Into the conflicting heart,
And see what cardiac death
Hides behind the scary last breath
Of euphenasia in my mind.

is what seperates

ambition


from greed



and there is no room in our family


for greed


From Quinn Martin's

"The FBI"

starring Efrem Zimbalist Jr

Inside the blue and velvet skyline,
there are buried ruins of grandmother's dreams,  the cactus fence that seperates heaven and hell,  darker stress, secrets and whispers, but we can still sing about us and the newness of day

For the rise and rhythm the of King's song, is always playing

The king's hand spins dreams off
Off the melodies of his guitar;
And life and colors, begin to heal everything
bloodstream,
over blood stream,
muscle becomes bones, humanity becomes again so free.

But time after time, rings of planets are stolen,
and the oceans of stars become fallen like asteroids,
all islands of gold become dust and people fall like lust,
all things, all wisdom seems lost, but like moonlight,
the king's dreams still set us free despite our sorrow and fright.

So come and sing, for if we sing his song,
time after time, in our hearts we grow like the
giant Brazilian trees, and the river of hope prospers so perfect.


So let's dance under these possibilities,
and all the stars, raise your song and wine,
your heart into my hands, for I know His love shall carry us
for upon our red rooftop, we can rest easier tonight.

For you can see the oceans in the sky
that covers the Brazilian seashore.
Resting and healing the soul of the green earth.
  And so I will hold you.

For like your wedding ring,
let me speak within the quiet broken night,
you can feel the oceans of memories

here

hold my hand, then let my voice unlock creation,
Echoing and speaking the languages
of your dreams and desires, for how I do love you.  

Now see the moonlight's rule over the stars,
speaking pictures of grace into the quiet night.

In such a way the power of the moonlight stands like a king,
in the same way, I will open and unlock the waves of our dreams.

There's a bluebird in my heart
too,

but unlike
yours

I like to let mine out
from time to time,

I let him spread his wings
I let him sing

his songs to me
& to the world,

My bartenders like him,
he's how I've gotten most
of the ****** into my bed

and he doesn't mind the smoke,
everyone needs a drag
from time to time,

He's the one
who prefers Jameson
and told my tongue
to not drink
much else,

I don't hide him,

But I'm not mad
that you hid yours away

I'm glad you did
because as much as you
inspire me and make me
want to share my songs

with the world,

I'm glad I'm not as angry
as you made yourself out
to be,

I get it, the image
is everything about
what seperates the men
from the boys,

and at this point I think
I'm all grown up
and we're stuck together
with the same fate,

So I let my bluebird sing
Bukowski,
because more than anything

your songs taught me

how to ****
what the world thinks.

And thank you for lying
to me

You old, drunk *******,

Because you let your bluebird
fly, you know it

and may the gods bless you
for not even trying.

I love you
*******.

Just one question,
Are you crying now?

I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba

this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility

I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal

my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now

suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life

inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire

outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round

The wall that seperates our home
Was as thick as the callouses on my fingers,
But I could hear every brush stroke
That he made on his canvas.

With every flick of his wrist,
a new image begins to build.
With every breathe that he took,
breaths of love and passion.

I can see in high quality definition
The looks on the spectator's faces,
As they admire your colors
On the wall beside the colors you once admired.

Red Light shining bright through the window in an edgy ally, where you can smell the sin and witness
lustfilled eyes of corrupt and narrow minded men.
Watch how they pick their flesh, a desperate attempt at relief of the madness lying within. A brief escape from a screaming consciousness's plea for help.
Young girls ostracized,productized, capitalized sitting in symbolized shelves. Behaviour manipulated to seamlessly service the brainwashed consumer's shallow needs. Cattle literally abusing human innocence in a legalised system.
A caged bird, where tears can only fly freely behind void eyes.
Desperate to the point they would sniff the coke from the dollar bill in search for small remnants of solace. Ironically it's the thought behind that dollar bill that put her there in the first place. Ironically it's that same dollar bill that might bring an oppertunity to escape.
Might leave a small opening in the cage. Emphasis on might.

A bedroom, where the nightlight shines darkgrey
A small boy sitting, fetus position, under his older sister's worn out desk
Never before have you met someone so young
weighing the options, positives and negatives
about life and death
testing, poking the knife he has in his chest
nobody has taught him anything about coping
good thing he knows everything about math instead
broken, his sister pinned down in father's bed
last time he accidently walked in
he was nearly beaten to death
He grabs the knife and seperates his soul from his flesh.
Society labels him and million others 'A Tragedy'.

Delivering freedom on the spot, dropped from high altitudes
by B52 Stealth Bombers, Lockheed AC-130's, F16's and unmanned MQ-1 Predators.  The Democratic system crashes into farmers, families, children and other people waiting for the food drop today. The explosion burns everything away.
Their souls desperately in search for their bodies which now lie scattered in ash, they can't go back to the physicall plane. They are forced to break away from their 6 month old daughter who 'miraculously' survived that day. Democracy making way for western influence, orphans turn into kids who perceive their nightlights dark grey.
Soldiers spot a baby, in a bloodbath, sitting.
Militairy lights hover over the scene, the blood reflects back a bright red.
This part of the city turned into a Red Light District.
The epitome of irony was a spark of creativity in the mind of a mad architect.

The kid is swooped into a country whom mercilessly obliterated her parents. Little brothers and sisters send to their dusty graves with the President's consent. Sixteen years later she meets her fifth one, social workers don't know what to do with her. Another two years later she's institutionalised, filled to the brim with drugs satisfying the needs of pharmaceutical companies. Trapped in a straight jacket, between four white walls. Being used to purchase meds to keep the production going. The least the useless can do is a word invented by capitalism: consumerism.
So they shall consume, such a harsh forced fate. Everybody's mind would break.
For those who's sun shines grey, where salvation waits on the thin line of a sharpened blade. I'll tell you, suffer needlessly. The world thrives on you.

We are made of
Water and sand
Creatures that live
On the line
Of the land
Drawn by
The child-gods
Seperates us
Between
Land and the Sea
Made from sand
And water
Are we.

As the tide
Goes out
Then so
We are pulled
Toward azure
Waters
In lagoons
And deep pools
And as she
Comes back
Return so do we
Our rightful place
Interfaced,
Between
The land
And the sea

You look in the mirror,
and hate what stares back at you,
so you throw a fist in blinded rage,
and the glass breaks and cuts you,
but you don't feel a thing past your misery,

You swear again and again,
that you're not worth it,
that you were never anything more than a person,
alone in a crowded room,
with nothing more to look forward to,
than a tear stained pillow case,
and the full moon,

But you're so much more,
so much more than you think you'll ever amount to,
you can be anything if you don't let anyone,
stand in the way,
and one day, you'll find that special someone,
who believes in you,
and you'll fall in love,
and nothing in the world will matter more,

And one day, you'll walk down the aisle,
and from then on be known as bride and groom,
husband and wife,
soul mates,
together until fate seperates you,
and even then you'll still love each other,
just from two different worlds,

So girls,
forget the makeup,
and remember that it's okay to wear your hair up,
and that walking around in sweatpants,
instead of skin tight jeans,
does not under any circumstances make you ugly,

For beauty isn't skin deep,
it's all about what lays underneath the exterior,
hiding from view,
and if a guy doesn't take the time,
to get to know the real you,
then he isn't worth the suffering,
so forget the ones who obsess,
over what's on the outside,
and find someone who'll take the time,
to make you a little less miserable,
and who lives to see you smile.

how can I make a translation
of these never before felt feelings
if their language I don’t possess
one of which mine ears
have never had a previliage
of previous precous encounter
and one which overwhelms so powerfully
mine eyes;  and my tongue but in realisaton
is powerless to pronounce
yet can do nothing else than confront them
these feelings, these feelings, oh these feelings
a painted mosiac of plasure and gulit
that leaves me in such a quandadry as I don’t know why
yet has me beliebve that the only thing  I trust
any longer is this very moment; the moment with him
where pure and untainted feeelings break upon me
as foamed waves upon a pebbled beach
where convention does disintigarte
in splintering bursts of Vulacn light
oh to be yet disintangled in my mind
to be detached, feeling each succeeeding thought
as it seperates itself from the centreal core of my mind
to examine them in the srange sub-lit detachement
where I find myelf now floating
there is no known languange for its expression
these feelings, these felings, these feelings
only Raleigh, only Raleigh, I hope

She's melting into nothingness
building a thick wall that seperates her
from pain and sorrow
No one can see in
understand why
They barely even notice
Inscripted onto the imaginary walls
that form her sanctuary
are words...
If I never love, I'll never hurt
If I'm never happy, I'll never be sad
If I never let them in, I'll never be let down
Her guise rises each morning with the sun
escapes only when sleep allows it to
Sleepless nights cause nothing but confusion
and conflict
Two minds, two personalities
one person
Nothingness
She slowly escapes
melts

a sprinkle a cold sparkle landed on the wrinkled brown textured mittens hold by a chipped damp branch that dances swiftly with the cool breeze the waves with a frosty chill in the air burning all the popping and cracking fires that brake down monster size lumber but soon come to hush and a light which brighten the glows of smile turns to hollow pit of smoky ash of smoke and becomes on with the earth.
With the light lazy moon with it creator shining ill pale texture shining among the dark mist clouds that fade to gray as shimmering white snow flakes clicking to the ground like glue and piles like minni mountains and lookin like a winter wonder land.

Second poem called frosted forest.

Glimmering slick ice thinking down pine woods leaf less the mud slick floors blend with brown snaps leaves broken like hearts of sadness for not being worthy to live in the right ful world where they born and die with every last oxygen they have till the hurricane wind seperates them and their love home and get tossed around like a rag doll and have no respect then being tossed out like garbage and left there to evaporate from the living exciting life. When the gloom less colorful trees that are painted with dazzling frosted breath water giving it a reflecting crystal out line giving the sunsets rise a glimming out line color.


Authors note:  thankyou for all the veiwes i hope you enjoy future poems i right.... I need a subject for me to write about send me a message and i'll do on for you so thankyou for taking your time to read my poems even though you like them or not...so i guess by for now

Staring out the window, lying in the dark
Wistfully wishing for moon and stars
But blinded by a streetlight
Blotting out the beauty of a sky at night
As surely as the world seperates you and I

Pressing my face to the glass
I cannot see them, though surely I can feel them
Toying with my mind at the edge of my perception,
Like your hands wrapped 'round my heart
-shining in the distance

The stars will shine again one day,
But I wonder if I'll ever know your face
Or will it remain forever out of reach
-just sparkling light on midnight canvas

Such bittersweet thoughts twist my mood
So I fall asleep to dream of you
-and streetlights turn to stars and moon

Sylvia,

It seems as if I have taken you
To the point
Where happiness and smiles give way
To hard cynicism
Too early, too soon
Too much for such a one as you
To embrace this vision of mine
Tainted, as it is, with regrets
Tragedies you will never know
Long before you'll have to deal
With your own
I wish I could keep you
From carrying my weight
It is too heavy for the both of us

Maybe I shoved you
Across the line that seperates
Blame and compassion
To a place where forgiveness isn't even an option
For one as innocent as I
Of these things, at least
These transgressions channeled through me by fate
To serve some cosmic purpose
We'll never understand
To work out the sins of our fathers
To examine and analyze them
To ask why
We are the sacrifice for their return to innocence
Awaiting our own

Could it be that I have pushed you
Over the edge
To free fall into the void
Or did you jump by your own design?  
Did the emptiness lure you?
The Siren's song silence you long to know?
Head filled with the foolish notion
That your dreams have been spent
Fleeing from fire, a more palatable alternative
Hoping for shock to excise spirit
Before gravity has completed it's work

Sylvia, my darling
Love of my life
What have I done?
Have my eyes become blind to your beauty?
Is the sound of your voice no longer music to my ears?
Have I become loathsome to you?
What is it which causes you to recoil?
I understand, my love, I understand
I feel the same way when I see my own reflection
The image of a broken man, robbed of joy
Burdened with sadness
Not only for what I've become
But in remembrance of the long, mean road
That brought me here
Set out to journey
Guided until a fork in the road frightened God away
On my own I have come to this
I regret a lot of things in my life,
Sylvia,
But the biggest regret is letting you come with me
You wore me down with your begging
Your pleas that only I could hear
Your devotion, Your loyalty
Like drugs
I was addicted
So I pretended

Now I think you see
Through the facade
Straight into what I am
What's inside of me
Wallow where I once wallowed
Way back when wallowing was the reason
The way to keep the cruelty at bay
I never wanted it to be this way
Sylvia, now I fear
It's too late

I have no easy answers
I have nothing at all worth sharing
You see, I'm wallowing even now
Old habits die hard
The sins of the fathers
They rest upon your shoulder
Heavy or light, the burden remains
May well be you will never lay it down
Until time takes me far away
Until space expands into forever
Until gratitude can only be expressed
At the point where cynicism melts
To reveal love in it's infancy
Until empathy bends the line into a circle
Trapping hope, barring hatred
Within and without the separating wall of Infinity
Strong arms await the impact of the Fall
To break it, caring less for your motivation
Only wanting to carry you home and away

If not, so mote it be
A long as you lay it down
When you lay me down

In all sincerity,
Ted

This bodies taken, it has been pulled away brought out of place.

Weve walked away with a corpse and weve got nothing left to lose.

What can we do with this, this empty shell, this doomed lifeless man.



What a reflection of our lives, what a dance in our minds, where will we go

what shall we do, we are sitting here wasting away without a purpose.

Im always looking forward, but ive got no destination, no compensation.



This unwholesome life this tattered dream, why am I here why dont I believe?

Im looking for answers, a purpose to this routine, where am I going what have I to gain?

Tell me my purpose, feed me some truth, you stand there as if you have something to say but the words never escape

your mouth.



I see this body, this soulless body, who told this man what truth did he receive.

I guess an ending to everything he was or is there something more?

Is this man burning? Do flames consume him? Is he paying for his mistakes or is he paying

for the fear of another mans fear to speak?



If someone had told him, where would he be, would he be with the angels would he be at his feet.

To think where this mans body lays and where his souls seperates, could have all been changed.

To think this mans fate lies within the words of another man, a man sent by the creator but a man who was

a coward, a man who was ashamed, now a man lay dead in his grave and his sould is chained to a lake.



Many men suffer and many men die, we with hold the truth and another man burns.

We tell ourselves theyll be reached by someone else, how can we know their faith, how

can we know where theyll end up.



What a responsibility we have took on, where souls lie in our hands, where some men burn

and some men live in paradise from the speech out of our mouths. Tongues of fire have power to

breathe life into men and death into others. Open your mouth and speak the truth to save another mans fate.

the feeling inside , i cannot describe not anger nor sadness , a certain kind of fustration. i am different in some strange way. feelings come and go yet this has stayed. All for a reason. never knowing why. for i am an embryo wating wanting coveting for the one day i will emerge into something beautiful. i wasnt always this way. the only way to save myself is they way ive avoided for all my life. please? hello? where are you? come here and save me. i cant resist you, its just not enough to say that i miss you. there is so much left to be said but i just might as well be better off dead. but ill stay alive and the reason why ill stare at the beautiful night sky it leave me breathless the same way you do , but ow could i covet somthing ive never had so badly. i am the laste spring blossom. while others bloom each in their beautiful ways shapes and forms i stay a bud. most wont pick it because its not a beautuiful flower but beauty is fleeting and one day while all the other flowers end there peak and whither away. i will thrive. thrive better than anyone elese ever way some day mabye one day baby. you will find out who i am.please? hello? where are you? some here and save me . there is so much more to be sead but i might as well be dead. i cant resist you , its not enough to say that i miss you. im not in denial this is my last trial to accept this bittersweet illusion from the moment we are born we slowly die. screaming at the thin door that seperates fact from fiction. its all just a dream. forever running in place it wont be fast enough. ive lost all controll but this path has taken a toll. ill figure this out all on my own. blurry eyes please look at the beautiful night sky. it wasnt always this way . someday mabye one day baby

I still remember our first date,
It was a beautiful sunny day,
The sun's warmth would wrap around us like blankets,
While the cold breeze would kiss our faces,
we walked down a path together that day,
A path filled with beautiful melodies and flowers,
It was such a beautiful scenery,
A scenery that you couldn't keep your eyes off,
Yet the scenery didnt have my eyes,
You did,
I couldn't keep my eyes off you,
You were something out of my wildest dreams,
A dream come true,
I couldn't believe this was real,
So I grabbed your hand,
Slowly feeling your warm touch,
As our fingers interlocked,
But it still wasn't enough proof,
So I pulled you closer to me,
Staring deeply in your eyes,
Bringing you closer,
until our lips met,
This time I knew I wasn't dreaming,
Because I felt something that I had  never felt before,
And that was happiness,

It has been years since that sunny day,
The days now have become more windy,
With the cold becoming more brutal than ever,
But that didn't take the warmth wrapped around us,
And that's because we had set a fire,
A fire that ignited in both of us,
A fire that cast away every shadow,
We believed this fire will forever keep the darkness locked up,
But we were both wrong,

Because the sun that once shined so bright,
Is now covered by dark clouds,
And the cold breeze that once kissed our faces,
Is now hitting us with heavy blows,
There was nothing warm anymore,
Only the cold was there to hold us,
I reached for your hand,
To make sure you had enough fire in you to keep you warm,
But it was too late,
The cold started to extinguish every last flame dancing in you,
Blowing the fire out like a candle,
Now it was only a matter of time till the same road we walked on,
Seperates to two paths,
With you going one way,
And me the other way,

I bring you in,
Knowing this may be the last time I ever will,  
There was nothing but the sound of your heart beat playing in the air,
Thump, thump,
Thump, thump,
Thump,
Thump,
That's when a faint whisper echoed in my ear
"thank you"
And the beat that once played,
Stopped,
Tears start rolling down my face,
I didn't want to open my eyes,
I didn't want to face the reality,  
Because that would be toughest pill to swallow,
Knowing that you will only live in my memories now.

Discrepency.
What seperates us.
As simple as a cloud watched, when I see the whisked whiskered cat,
and you see collected evaporation.
An operation as impossible as love,
is unthinkable now
What we don't speak of begins to amount in great size,
and between us grows space. I find our bed is wider.
We manage to keep sleeping on either edge, cold feet shimmering on the matress,
and cold sheets shouting on the floor.
Apart.
It is as if we run either side of the bar where lies Herman's whale,
obstructing you from I.
However, we've not the cable to pull her away. I see her lie alien on that shore
and it sickens me.
As if a rift does not belong in us, but gapes there.
A shadow in the warehouse is not supposed to breathe,
when we are shattering, whirling flash-lights. But they inhale.
As if a wall is not built, 'tween my toast and your tea
at the morning table.
Courage for fixing is not suppposed to play dead.
And that's when I realize
its not playing.

She held my hand and showed
Me her husbands thorny past.
As in you can still find patches of
Green with sharp pointy canyons
Between what seperates life and reality.
She stuck with the hopes of using lady bug magic
To clear the bugs off of a less then perfect flower.
It worked because her judgement ingnored the first
Fragrance of spring.  Though still winter she gets always gets
Ready for a new start in spring.  So she will be ready to sing
All over the wishing well and look through the wooden frame
To picture how we hold hands in a public garden
On a gravel path packed in with every foot step.

Your lips are moving,
But I can't hear you,
A barrier seperates us,
And it kills,
To see the way you smile,
And to miss your voice,

The way you walk,
It's entrancing,
But I can't even hear,
Your simple melodies
They're locked away,
From what is within reach.

It's a struggle,
It's a fight,
It's a pity,
And It's dark,
It's wet and it's hot.
It's sad and it's cold.

But most of all it's alone.
And it's where I am now,
Left deaf by a cruel, cruel world.

I walk
past midnight
nobody in the house is awake
except the scuttling insects under the floorboards
they remind me im alive

i watch
the birds in the trees
the blinking lights in the distance
wandering souls walking down the street
where are they coming from
where are they going

i wonder
how from the outside some houses look so
normal
and it could be stark mad inside
all that seperates me from them
is some concrete and bricks
and i wonder
if those walls
are like the walls i put up
so that nobody knows

that im stark mad inside

Gimme a break from the long day at work.
A piece of mind that doesn't fly by soon as it starts.
Not of discrimination but of a demanding boss.
Time but a snap of a bar.
Gimme a break from negative interpretation.
In terms of being under appreciated.
A smile that encourages the rest of the day to come that much faster.
The commercial before we continue our regular scheduled programming.
Gimme a break before our stature completely seperates.
If only for a moment.
To savor a taste stumbled upon in bulk.
Complex in the pieces we give of ourselves.
Chocolate covered us wrapped in orange.
Fully appreciated in standout appearance.
The smile brought to my mouth.

Looking out into the night, I see nothing sitting here on the ledge of my studio window. Or rather I see what other's might over look and view as nothing- nothing speacial. A deck that seperates twin apartment buildings, an old tree, the street to my right and the remains of a broken building and weathered fence to my left.

This is the first place I have ever called my own- neighbor's that embrace with love and friendship become a second family in their simple way. I am sad to leave.

I have been alone so long that Im not sure how to be around people, let alone let someone stay a while.

I like my simple close friends- support its taken me what seems like a life time to earn and find. I like who I am and the woman I am becoming. Its uncomplicated, and yet still tangled in this flesh is every story- every person who has ever touched it. I hold their memories, trying to always learn from what each one left behind.

Laughter, love, a voice of my own, forgiveness, bridges burnt, bridges rebuilt- responsibility for my actions and the every day learning struggle of not letting people project their feelings on to me and trying my hardest to not project my own feelings on to them...

I guess, I just hope the people in my life that do stick around- the ones that took another look, the ones who truely cared to get to know me- know that even though I **** at showing them at times - that I simply love them, in the simplest way possible.

"love the ones that treat you right- and forget the ones that dont"

Thats kind of been my moto since my birthday this year. I am not one to judge- I know I have ****** up- we all do... and for me forgiveness is the one gift that can be recieved, or given- in a world where people seem to know only how to walk away- that makes all the difference. I thought thats how I wanted to be... the one that leaves first so they never feel the bite of sadness but thats not my way, it never has been.

So I say " first love yourself, staying true to your own heart, then love the ones that treat you right and the ones that treat you wrong- learn to forgive- learn to speak less and do more. Love is an action, we can say it all day... but if we do not learn to show each other, then it means little."-me

I would drown the demons
in to the ocean
which seperates

Where is his Christmas spirit
As I lay in my bed, and you in yours
Only a thin apartment wall
Seperates us
But we haven't talked in hours
No kiss goodnight
No Merry Christmas wish
I just lay in bed
Feeling alone as usual
I'll just cry quietly
Until the things you do to me
Don't hurt anymore
You see
I've lost all faith
In having a real relationship with you
Because if you won't try
It's useless for me to

It's eating her alive
gives her hallow eyes
divides her mind and heart
--seperates them worlds apart
they disintegrate to dust;
she's been waiting to readjust
attempting to be fierce
but dignity has long been scarce
and the minute she stands tall
is when Heaven declares its fall
upon the very land
that tore her limbs and both her hands
though perhaps with its demise
she will see with stricken eyes
what's been hidden all along:
peace was waiting, brave and strong.

straight line
turns to squiggle
as tired mind
turns to slush

weary soul
begins to wobble
as happiness
fades to grey

and in the twilight gloaming
paces the dog, black
with eyes a' gleaming
mouth a' drooling
and  dinner on his mind..

torchlight
follows the squiggle,
brings warmth and sunshine
slush becomes liquid
fluidity comes to mind
and the wobble is centrifugal
seperates the grist and the grind
gives surety to the tired and weary mind

torchlight comes from kisses
murmered words always kind
not breadcrumbs but shining pebbles
to my hansel and gretal state of mind

forrest large, big wolf lurking
pebbles help me find
home and hearth and kin
that gives grace to the
rebelnheart and mind
that oft makes me blind
and lost and a'wandering
in the squiggle......

i place the configuration
of bones,
commonly known as hands
against the convex cusp
of my cheek,
then place the whole mad
contraption ,
elbow first onto the bench,
that seperates you
the bartender,
from me,
the person wishing,
to inhale copious amounts
of alcohol....
and say in my finest
of linguistic stylings....
"can i  ave  another....of
da ***** mules....ta

.....muchly luv...."


upon your denial,
of my well worded request,
i being both,
discombobulated and distraught,
cry,
into some one else's beer,
before leaving,
to stagger and stumble home....

where i puke $73.00+ dollars,
worth of cocktails,
into the porcelian bowl
of the only restroom,
in the apartment...