You singlehandedly changed my life
But not in a good way
You dragged me through
A battlefield of emotions
You made me apologize
When I did no wrong
You made me feel even weaker
When I wasn't feeling so strong
You treated me the opposite way
Of how I treated you
I put you so high on my list of priorities
Ashamed to say you took the number one spot
And now you've left me
Acting as though I don't exist
Or that my existence is unimportant
This happened so many times
But I refused to see the signs
And gave you the benefit of the doubt
But you were always manipulating me
Into thinking everything was my fault
Or that I'm the undeserving one
But truthfully speaking
You're the liar and the one
Who took full advantage of my willingness to love and heal you
I tried to surrender multiple times
And walk away
You wouldn't let me
Always kept me wondering and second guessing
Forcing me to believe you cared about me
But worst of all
Getting me to believe that when you said
"I love you"
You were actually being true
But you weren't
And for that
You are the predator
I am the prey
And it will always be that way

This elastic band has stretched as far as it possibly can
Now is the time to cut the cord
Over enough is more than enough
It's time for the narcissist to be unveiled
Oh bride of Satan
For the wolves in sheep's clothing to be called out
Your time is up!
We've had enough!
People are not as stupid as you'd like them to be
That spoiled little brat of a child inside is to be silenced for good
Singlehandedly you have destroyed your relationships
Systematically you have ruined your friendships
Over enough is more than enough
The true meaning of loneliness you will now encounter
Your fragile mask has shattered into pieces
The protective cover has blown away  
Exposed you will stand
Finally everyone will see you for the serpent you truly are
No one is buying the lies you have so generously been selling
No matter how great a bargain
Your mind games and tactics have become stale
Over enough is more than enough
The reality which awaits you is harsh and bleak
From your put on laugh to the fake compliments
Both come from the same dark and empty space
A bottomless pit of deception in which you lurk  
Hollow vase you are
Collage of fabricated personalities
You model yourself on others
But can never hold down one character for too long  
Over enough is more than enough
Like a blank canvas you are vacant to take on any shape or form
You wear a fake smile and your eyes are dead
You destroy like a bull, but hurt like a baby
Your brain is corroded and your spirit is ill  
Your own medicine you will drink
It will consume you from the inside out
Implode you will
Troublemaker and schemer
Over enough is more than enough
You are driven by your severe deep-rooted insecurity and shame
You prey on the empathetic
Virtual vampire, always looking for someone to drain
You do unto others as you would NOT have done unto yourself
A conscience you were born without  
Quick to quote a scripture or two
But slow in applying it to yourself
And even the devil knows the score
Over enough is more than enough
Your condescending eyes will be plucked out by a ruthless crow
You will burn in your own defeat and your perfume will be sulphur
Down you will tumble from your pedestal
You no longer have a place in my life
You no longer have a place in my heart
But more importantly
You no longer have a place in my mind

light my fuse on fire and set me aflame
watch as you singlehandedly set me ablaze

what is it like to watch me burn, baby?
I'm no better than cinder, ashes in an urn.

lately I feel just like charcoal residue,
remember when I was sweet and wet like honeydew?
do you remember when I was good to you?

how much longer can we pretend?
that we know when this war will end,
I can't express how badly I miss my best friend.

charging towards each other from opposing ends of a battlefield,
no matter how much I beg,
your sword you will not yield.

pull out your guitar and play a chord
I don’t know how much longer I can afford
to run around on this chessboard

moving pawns and rooks
when we should be swimming in ponds,
and reading books.

thoroughly covered in brambles
I‘ll wait as you amble

who knew we could get so tangled in something we thought we could handle?

we’re filled with pride and jealousy,
resentment and envy too

how can we come back from this?

what did we lose?

Singlehandedly turn dreams into
        nightmares
I see aqua eyes in the back of
      your head
I feel a gnawing, a longing,
     if only for a few moments
as I shake myself awake.
All dreams end up the same.

Fall 2011

"We can do anything we like as long as it is
UNIMPORTANT. But in all IMPORTANT matters the system
tends increasingly to regulate our behavior."

Here, simply, is our delusion:
progression of society
is no idealist illusion.
Surrendering our dignity,
we traded our autonomy
for the same ****** technology
that leads us to singularity.
We could **** the scientists,
and burn the bots before they breathe,
bomb the books; desist, resist!
We offer up no real solutions
So all we ever do is seethe
craving counter-revolution,
so I guess it's up to me
to end Hawking singlehandedly
in the great name of Kaczynski,
the only logical solution
as far as opened eyes can see.

Have you ever held so much of something that causes the things you wish not to see in those you love?

Have you ever held a pain that isn't even yours in some cases?

have you ever held on to it so that it doesn't slip and take out such a beautiful tragedy of those you love?

That if you slipped and allowed just an ounce of this pure and refined substance to hit the open air that it would be instantly absorbed into the psyche and physical bodies of all those around you , thus causing them to convulse in agony and gut wrenching pain?

Have you ever felt this could be even close to how you have felt before?

As if once they get the tiniest taste of their own creations and manipulations results, they would fall, so far and hard they would not see the way out of such dire deeds and sad and abusive ways and pains of the causes and causation's, the outcomes of the thrusted busted, go away's, leave me be's, the I don't care about you's, you are a fool's, you are stupid, stop annoying me's, oh here watch this one, they will break , so laugh as loud at them as you can's? can you see what I am saying?  in short all the truly horrible things we all , including me, myself and I, do, when we hurt, are confused, or some how, loose our way in this confounded maze we seem to find ourselves lost in.

Is it enough to allow them to taste the fruit of their leaves of the trees they planted on our mother womb as our father feeds them lovingly, knowing these seeds are wrong?

is it enough? would describing it be enough to cause the pin to be realized if only an imaginary trend of a friends busting the illusion for a crafted grafted second, in hopes to say, stop and look, we are all dieing if we continue this way...... but so many of us, carry these pains like a badge of **** honor, like we are singlehandedly saving the very souls of those whom we don't even know, at times, that is... when the pain and isolation isn't too much to bare, and we don't end up lashing out and creating sorry *** little seeds of trees we then drop along our mothers womb as father lovingly tends to mothers needs, as if we are johnny apple seed in the garden of plenty and abundance all like where is my coffee!!!!????? like i have been a time or two?

Would it be enough for me to change, much less you? maybe, seems we are all stuck on a revolving Russian roulette of, "you first jack, then we will see if my *** antiees up all in..." for we all seem to be in this oh so, silly Mexican stand off as illustrated by Marshall Mathers in the "*******" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wHi-IjsilSw

Cause this silly little thing, is ME, and it is You, yet, am I holding you correctly, by saying ***** it, its me and not you? or is this **** thing on backwards and in roman numerals? cause situation is all jacked up, from the floor up if we fail to see that , I and others who are pain eaters, or, what ever you choose to call us, for we are all full, just look about you, and see all the love is flowing but some of the most daring and beautiful ones are slowy fading, falling, wasting away cause we are too **** pridful to say, **** this not today, I will not hold your ****, this is your **** you take and feel it, I am rather in the clear and am shorting myself the love I truly need to breath, but, I am such a freak and a lover of you all, that I ****** this crap back up denying you the ability to even grab your **** from me, and I horde it hide it and die in it faithfully, for I said I would and my word means everything. but, Now I find so many begging me to release it, let it be, let it go and even if fools fall the **** over dead from the shock of the shame and pain they have graced us all with but we have not had to bare, do go dropping like flies, then that is okay, as I stand shocked, appalled and *******, cause we are to save them all **** it. yeah... says who, son? is all I hear any more. says who son? who said they could make it to such a place of pleasure, leisure, construct, invention, visionary, oh, my how we are to truly shine , shine, be and play? who told you this anyway? and I stand silent, speechless, and rather dumbfounded in my lack of afraid. for they are right. ****, it,, they are right, again.. for to be able to truly and finaly bew able to grasp, grokk, totally and truly rock this truth of movement and this transmogrification of station and situtations where we oh so are to truly play and live like life truly exists, we must let go and let bare the being that was, is, and wont be there. yet here i am, still stuck in a silence of judgement pending, standing in a hall, holding up the line cause I refuse to let go of this which is holding me from the true garden and my possible real soul mate, whom ever they maybe, all because I am so affraid of feeling the lose of even the hated, and hatful of thee, ?.. and why? why are so many of those bauetigul people like me, doing this very thing? so many of us became sin eaters simply out of need, and we eat the sins of others, and eneded up, sinning ourselves, simply to deal with the burdon of the pain... what , in the world were we thinking? , well, we were thinking, what a shame, and we were thinking, why do we not know how to help or deal with all this over whelming pain, why atre we burdoned so? and why must , i let go of the only think I have ever known, eating this sin, that became my identity and my reason to be, and now you ask, me to strip myself of me, of this child laid bare for all the world to see, as I fall apart, is that what it is you wish to see? for this is what will happen when I no longer bare the sin of you and you and you, for mine have been forgiven from what I understand for laying no blame upon no man for the sin I consumed of man, and I am not alone in this endeavour or relieaf, that is if I can muster the foolish courage to let it go, and watch as you all, fall, fall, fall, of your own pains, but I say this, as I have said before, as  child I said it and thousands of times in my life, you do not have to fall so far, just except what ypou have caused and bare it and do the equal and truly triple the opposite and love, see, for me to take such a chance, such a leap of faith and risk, my falling by my creations of feeling watching you fall from your own pains, in turn causing me to fall the same, , but I say, you do not, for if as I said I do this, and risk, then you do the same and love again, as you did before you remembered how to hurt..... before you learned how to hurt inside, before you realized, you die each time the pain lives inside... for you were never a sin eater, but I can and am telling you how to digest your sins, so you don't fall, so far and possibly fail and well, bye.. you must bare you harm and except it as real and them manifest the loving and caring truth that nullifies the harm and corrosive acridness and become, alkaline a base , so base your love in truth and harmony, and resonate out of the hate and misery, for, I do understand what it is I must do, but it all truly, like I said a thousand times, depends on you, and yes there is a possibility that you could bring me to my death by focusing on never getting out, but lets not kid each other son, I will not be loosing, and why risk the guarantee of you never being with the life of us, only so you can attempt to bring me or others down? for it makes no sense, and is not of the flow and growing of life and is not abundant, so, swallow all the fear and doubt, that pain and acid that you spit out, and except it for it is the reality you created and we sin eaters swallowed and held so as to limit your harm, and many of us, did this from birth and never truly knew what we did wrong to end up with such a work load if you get my drift. but my soul is clear, on this, and wqell, I must start laying this down, and by doing so, I need not grace you with a sound or a jot or tittle, but the facts that you may or may not find life get a little different, but This is not for me to say, for it is simply close and time for me to let it all go and look for the truth as my ownn naked frozen child deep inside shivers , but, I know this, no matter the loss, no matter the cost, no matter the choices that will be chossen due to tempral placement and how limited the view is from where we are, that I will be okay, and most of my people are already across, in fact, I think I am one of the few still stupidly here, begging and causeing such a scene, but, I suppose they are right, "if you have not chossen your own ways, by now, then what makes you think anyone should wait for you to realize there is no tomorrow once we move forward.. and well, I hope to wake and each time I wake, love be closer and closer to me and this horror and this lies deciet and hate, be a none existant, reality, for me, or anyone else ready to make that change. and you still can, but, um, if time is running out on the elect, then um, maybe time is running out on you and me so, we better get this thing going, and make a stand , a choice, and eat out own **** and swaet out love and all things worth growing and knowing. for the information is a seed that is the key, if you know, then it is time to unload, that seed so it can be a tree, for spring has sprung and we are about to be leaving and blooming some **** fine leaves, and flower, ohh, so, unless you are the dead and decayed bark that we are about to shed, litterally, then it is time to become a blossom, and swallow your own deeds and devulge the information that setts so many others free, you will be saving lives, and the livfe you save might just freaking be your own. no I mean this jack. and, I love you, but I can not keep holding this, for most of it is not mine, and I soon hope to be resigned from the possition of rather high ranking in the sin eating department, "Jesus is number one there, and I am not in the tier, but you can beat me, so swallow you sin and push out the freedom and love, the truth that sets the rest of the tree free from this infestation cause we wont **** the tree, but we continue like this and the tree of life we wont see either, for we will fall away and away to never be again, make your choice, cause I have Purple Hearts to Bloom baby, and blue and white stripes on my flower, for I am a full purple blue moon, , hope to see you there, and if you hurt son, sorry, but it is time, so, take my advice and swallow and shed and do deeds that save lives and loves.  Yes I know I am slow, ven my mother said so, in the scanned images, see, poems, though he is"slow?"  yeah, thanks ma.. lol, smile, I hope I see here , she, finally free of all the harm done her and forgiven, for I forgave her long long ago, I love and respect my mother, for she gave me these bones of gold, and at 14 she did better than many, with such a prize package like me.
Candlebox-Far Behind
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4QL0L9fgbg

You used to disappear for months at a time
I was too young to understand but I did anyways
You hurt me like you hurt yourself
The difference is I remember
As children we were sad and tragic misfits
Hell bent on escape of some kind
You used to try to jump out of second story windows
Enough to break eternal but not to close your mind
I found you once trembling in the kitchen
In your pocket was a handful of capsules
Ran for help and with reinforcements recommitted you
You told me I could stop you now but there would be a tomorrow
Your depression worsened and school became your nemesis
You singlehandedly proved how cruel and evil children can be to others
A victim of your instability and chemical imbalance
A social untouchable, they kicked you and you scampered under the porch
The progression across the spectrum of moods made you manic
I could handle you when you had lost hope, but you became unpredictable
Needing everyone’s help, you couldn’t bear to act alone
Always making scenes we were bashful when in crowds
I picked you up after class and you showed me your self-assigned art project
Your room was filled with them, scribbles on the walls
Poetry and carved incantations and letters
Just the way you were when you lived in the hospital
I will always remember when I was first allowed to visit
Your expression dull, eyes dead and voice hoarse but constant
Your babble was brilliant even though you spoke in tongues
Drew me equations, diagrams, promises and master plans
I keep them still and hope that you will make no replications
Reminder of the horror that goes into reparations

He was born from the darkness of man's sin-
a monster, a vengeful spirit, and a barter of death
A whisper of an end resides in his breath; and swallows  
up all in it's deathly grey cigarette stench

You'll find him at the edge,
you'll hear him creeping in every corners crack
He will follow by day
as a shadow of every lonely previous night
He'll shine on all your fears before you sleep;
he'll chase you in your dreams—cutting the images of all
your imaginations, a constant knife in your spine

A blade of grass,
he'll valley around your heart and water it's weeds
He'll brittle your skin, belittle you in insecurities,
and beneath his towel of hand- he'll wrap his darkness
around your neck

You'll wish upon a star,
as he's the darkness surrounding
You'll pray to a god, he'll prey on your doubts like
a pouncing predator. His fingers are a remote to
channel your anxiety- a device of your depression
Placing unworthiness in your hand, as a weapon of
your own self harm. He'll cut you from hopes, and
pierce a dagger of misery into your soul

You'll run, run into his arms that he lied a trap for you
An uncomfortable long hug, he'll ***** you until
you feel too ashamed to scream for help
He'll promise you heaven, but give you a whole lot of hell first
he'll give you his curse, he'll curse your very worth,
and leave you bare and unholy—his unworthy curse
He'll disguise his red hand with a bouquet of black roses,
but beware his thorns, beware his thorns

He'll treat you fairly in the abuse he gives
us all. He'll attack you singlehandedly, but
he has a hand in us all

His goal is to raise an army of his slaved cowards,
be weary- fear wears red, in the devil's flowers

I was once a believer in true love
I thought that if someone showed enough interest
And enough care and love
Enough tenderness and consideration
That they would be able to, in turn, be loved and appreciated all the same
When I gave that to you
When I was a mere player in your game
And bought into your plots and schemes
When I believed your excuses, your deceit
I came to the realization that all you did was reject me
You dangled your love in front of me
Just out of my reach
With that, you ruined me
You singlehandedly destroyed any hope I had for true love
I hope you sleep well at night
Knowing you destroyed someone who was once so sure of herself
And so capable of loving
Now all I am is numb

Artists are not people who draw, or write, or make music.

Poets are not just people who write, poets are observers, poets see the beauty and tragedy of life and put it into words.

Those who draw are not people with pencils and paper, people who draw have figured out how they see the world, and how to recreate their views on paper.

Dancers are not just people who can move to music, dancers are people who spell out stories with their being.

Painters are not people with paint and a canvas, painters are the people singlehandedly making the world brighter.

Artists are people with leaky faucets.

I'm not crazy.
It's just imperative I let you know.
I enjoy each nanosecond we share.
Value every half, full and over the top smile you shoot my way.

You see I've searched the world.
And you're a gorgeous singularity.
That beaming personality,
brings me to my knees singlehandedly.

You were right when we talked about regret.
Live how you need to - ask for forgiveness later.
So don't hate me now.  

Because I'm telling you, somehow you mean a lot to me.
I like you and I'm probably just another guy you're being too nice to.
But I feel like this chemistry might be more solid than physics.

I'm a realistic person with an emotional soul.
I know me telling you this doesn't change anything in the 'now'.
I respect you far too much to make moves on your loyalty.
Because I haven't seen anything I don't like about you so far.

I know I've found a friend in you.
Someone truly special.
I just know there is potential for so much more.
In another world.

I'll lasso planets together until I find a place next to you once more.
My ever lasting perspective of you.
Whom I totally adore.

Singlehandedly, he changed the world
With his giftedness.
And carved his way into our lives
With his geniusness.

And how should we compare
Such fascinating mind?
Indeed he was a genius.
He was one of a kind.

Despite his human flaws,
He made it to the top.
The incredible inventions—
Ambition couldn't be stopped.

Even in his last days,
He pushed, and pushed still,
Until his final work was done.
‘Twas such an incredible will.

And so, thanks to Steve Jobs—
A great mind of the day—
For his contributions
In a prolific way.

-Walterrean Salley

Once, on vacation, my friend and I journaled about
Where we saw ourselves 5 years from then.
I didn't think once of you.
Or him either.

I envisioned wooden floors,
A single toothbrush,
My mug collection
And a King size bed that
Only my body lies on.

My closet filled with button downs,
And in the back of it,
A box with the
Burnt matches that
Ignited every pain
In my young adult-hood.

I end up getting a dog,
Because they're
Guaranteed to be loyal,
And because sometimes its
Scary living alone in a big city.

My journals are filled with stories
Of failure
Pages of declarations
Of frustration and of hope.

My window sill a comfortable seat
Because every morning I make sure
To see the sky
To remind myself that the world is mine.
That I am mine.

My body and soul
Ache, but just a little,
Not as much as it does now.

My tattoos as meaningful as ever
My truths as prevalent.

For once in my life,
Perceptions others have of me
Became irrelevant.

On my table there's flowers,
Flowers from the shop down the street,
Singlehandedly picked by me.

An ashtray I made in a week-long art class,
A movie collection
Because it makes me feel okay
For any lack of affection.

I envision myself unapologetic,
A trait I finally mastered
And maybe i'm not too ******* myself
Maybe I finally got it together.

5 years from then,
I'm not thinking of you,
Or him.
Freedom is a concept I finally
Learned,
After years of unsaid emotion,
I got the life of pleasant solitude I
So rightfully earned.

Sugar is sweet by itself, but even more so when mixed with flavors.
She is the flavor, one I’ve never savored before, one that’s intriguing to me to a point of shear attracted interest, and I believe she knows it. She can hear the interest, can feel the heat of my words, and I feel hers as well.
Heavy conversation? I think not, It’s a natural for us both, whether or not we realize. For we are both expressers, both professing emotion like analysts.
Poets
The Irony of it is that she’s better, but I don’t mind, we are after all different professions of the same thing.
Sweet like syrup, shy like mockingbirds, hesitant as kittens, flow like the winds that blow the currents of the ocean, and as vibrant as a child high on fructose.
Feminine intuition should tell her she’s entering dangerously close territory, but she powers on through it regardless, perhaps with ruby red blushed cheeks, perhaps with a whole-hearted smile, perhaps not. But she has taken it, she has taken my eyes off of the situations, the standards, and placed them squarely on  her.
I haven’t felt the buzz in a long time, haven’t felt the attraction in mere moments, yet they have both been reawakened by her.  What’s going on in my head? Is there something that I’m missing? Indeed, It’s her.
A poet in every sense of the word, and a beautiful fortune more so. Her name is synonymous with soul, her eyes are only described as deepening pools of eternity, smile described as Insta-ready, but is that all? Whoever mentioned it was unjust to her. For her smile speaks more than she. It tells of trial and error, love and lost and perhaps more.
She has lost much, but what she has lost shall be regained somehow, and I pray I’m around to see her dreams be achieved singlehandedly by her,  girl wonder. Taken more stress than the human body should bare and still walking through the hell with clenched fists and a strong gait.
I can feel her presence, sense her sadnesses, why cry? No need for tears of sorrow for you one day, no need for fears or upsetments. I know she knows who she is, and I hope these words touch her, for nothing else shall harm her, nothing shall infiltrate her innocence and take advantage, not with the help of my will and strength, and I give it to her now for her well-being and protection.
I don’t know her as much as I’d like, but perhaps I might, perhaps I might understand her complexities for good and allow them to stick close to me in whatever form of intimatic energy we find, whether friendly or deeper.
A speaker is simply an amplifier for sounds, a stronger voice for a weaker one.  I have been told that I’m the speaker, the strong voice in a world of weak voices, but I don’t see how. She is her own speaker, her own voice may rise louder and stronger than many that have been tried before her, and yet she still hurts. If I could, I’d take the pains away, protect her from what I believe is hurting her. But what if It’s not what I think? What if I’m merely protecting her from what I figured was hurting her and it wasn’t. What if I only end up messing up again? It’s not my intention to ruin the rose by picking it, but to let it linger in the **** patch would allow it to disappear from me.

A shoe box filled with borrowed song lyrics
About two cups of gel pens that still smell like hot glue and cardboard
Probably 8 Fiji bottles of water with about 3 swallows left in each
And a basket of hair supplies that are seriously lacking in bobby pins.

I love
A lot more people than I have room for
And each one of them believe they hold my entire heart -
I love
A few indie movies here and there, a few artists here and there,
Myself here and there -
Maybe I love
Reminiscing and trying to recreate the things I've lost
Because I always lose.

I wish for
Traditional objects of desire: happiness, excellence, definite love -
Shoes that don't have socks wedged where the toes should be -
About $10 more in my bank account to spend on chocolate,
A clear throat, a throat that doesn't always hold dissatisfaction-
A better singing voice because music soothes the sting
And I want to be irrevocably, singlehandedly responsible for healing myself

Most of all,
I want to continue to smile.

You're stronger than I ever thought a person could be
When your world broke, when god left you
You singlehandedly rebuilt your own empire
Chased after god and made him kneel before you

But when you were lost for just moment
My world fell to pieces

You are not invincible
Your walls may look like marble but shatter like glass
And your love can disappear from my life with a single gust of wind

From the moment that I lost you
I've grown an unshakeable fear that I will lose you again

I hold you like a delicate bubble of air in the palm of my hand
Regard you like the Mona Lisa, an invaluable piece of my heart safeguarded by every precaution
I lay down clouds before you feet so your goodness may never touch the treacherous ground
I pray to a god I don't believe in to keep you safe

Every moment you're away I imagine the tragedies that may befall you
And how I could never rebuild an empire like you, find faith again
I can't do this alone

When the distance becomes too much to bare,
When the phone calls come few and far between,
When your back breaks, followed by your heart,
under the weight of singlehandedly carrying the relationship…
Let go.

When your effort goes unnoticed.
Let go.

When he looks at you but no longer sees you,
Let go.

When you are giving pieces of yourself and only half existing,
Let go.

Untie your heart strings from his shoe strings.
And then double knot his shoe strings together,
So that he can no longer walk over you,
So that he cannot chase after you.
Let go.

Find your smile.
Look for it in the last place you had it,
before him.
Reacquaint yourself with it.
Remove him from the creases around your mouth.
Let go.

When he touches you with hands no longer hot with passion,
Let go.

When he becomes too busy to even bother,
Let go.

When he repeatedly one word responds to your text messages,
Let go.

Olympic, stretch yourself.
Unclench your fists.
Prepare for the main the event.
On your mark,
Get set,
Let GO!

I have a habit to turn people into poetry before I even touch them and for that, I'm sorry. Im sorry I turned your eyes into a haiku about the ocean, about how they crashed into me and dragged me under before I could even take a breath. I'm sorry I turned your kisses into an epic about the hero that saved the entire city singlehandedly with his lips of satin gold. I'm sorry I turned Your heartbeat into ink spilling out of pens and fresh sheets of paper. I could write a library full of stories about each second your skin touched mine and I felt like I was on fire. I could write a novel about how we first touched each other's skin for the first time. I could write sonnets about how your smile just made everything in the world seem to stop in motion. I knew I would spend forever trying to burn the feel of your fingers through my skin but that's not now. People write about love and how good
it feels. They write about the pain from heartbreak. Nobody talks about the crying in love or the feeling of heartbreak where it's like you're drowning and the feeling you get when you try to put your feet on the solid ground but there isn't anything there. Nobody writes about how some days you feel like you're flying and soaring and the next you plunged straight to the ground. Nobody talks about how love feels like it's magical at times and points where it's tears staining bedsheets and sleepless nights. I took a break from writing but the second you got me hooked my thumbs hurt from typing. I want to spend my entire ******* life telling people how your lips Against my neck felt like Sunday mornings and clean bedsheets. And how I felt so **** safe in your arms. My home doesn't have four walls and a bed, it's with you. In between your arms. You are the one place I don't want to escape
from. I want to sell twenty million copies of a book telling how you would ramble about your fascinations or how you get frazzled about the twins or cars. People write about love and lust and heartbreak. I'm sorry I am one of these people. There aren't enough powerful words to describe to you how I feel and how bad it hurts when I know it's can't work. I'm sorry for turning you into poetry when I met you. When a writer falls in love with you, you never die. It's constantly in their writing. And you're a person who deserves to be remembered for eternity.

Please don't look at me like that.
I wasn't the one who delivered the first blow, the first push.
It was you!
Yes, you with the wide eyes and closed heart.
You who singlehandedly brought me to my demise.
All it took was a glance and a couple of words from your lying mouth.
Nothing more, nothing less.

the world underneath
the thatched bowl
of night
is waiting for
vernal beginnings.
sleep is
transit.
dream is the
locomotive.
the wind blows through the window
with a sequence of perceived ends.
my only moon reels through
  everything's impending newness,
  trailing a far-flung equinox.
clock's fulcrum turns a page
  and the now dislimned words tumble, scouring to be seen but
   denied of emphasis.

if only we could singlehandedly
blow each of the candles on the
night's banquet, we wouldn't be this restless in waiting.

I utterly adore the way
You say what you say.
And you inspire me
In more ways than one.
It's the simpler way of expressing
These undue feelings.
Little do I understand my own
Although I try.
But writing about it, singlehandedly,
Enables me a power.
You write with your fingers
But this feels incomparable.
Every word seems to
Divulge your clever thoughts.
I want to be as open as you,
Yet as passionate too.
As good,
As loved.

Ever since I watched you act in the movie "Jagame Thanthiram"
I knew there was something special about you
You took on a very complex role
And brought a lot of character into it
Next came PS1
Though your role was limited
You did full justice to the character of "Poonguzhali"
Right from the moment you emerged from the water
To your feisty dialogues with "Vanthiyathevan"
However, your finest hour
Came in the film "Gatta Kusthi"
Where your character "Keerthi" had to undergo a number of transformations
From a fierce wrestler with short hair
To a simple housewife with long hair
And back
The scene where you singlehandedly fought off all those armed goons
Is one I'll never forget
For the rest of my life
Then we come to the movie "Archana 31 Not Out"
Though, in my opinion, there wasn't anything remarkable
About the movie as a whole
You again did full justice to your character
Right from the travails of your job as a teacher
Including handling a class full of troublemaking students
And dealing with a lot of uncertainty
Due to the impending layoffs
To facing a number of rejected marriage proposals
For all of which you assigned cricketing terms
And finally the ****** scene
Where you delivered a speech
That brought goosebumps to one and all
You are not only an amazing actress
But also a wonderful human being
Bold and brutally honest
And humble and down-to-earth at the same time
Yes, you don't know me
Nor would you have even heard of me
But I can say with a lot of pride
That I will always be a fan of yours

Have I been forgotten?
Erased from your mind,
Because of this single obstacle?
I know you see my writings.
I know you know what they mean.
Do your eyes glide past them,
To avoid the words written there?
Do you not want to finish our story?
Is it coming to an end,
Here? After we've tried so hard...
An end without an ending?
Are you walking away,
The leading role,
During intermission?
Am I supoosed to dazzle the audiences myself?
Singlehandedly?
A story with a single insane character is bound to be a disaster.
So instead I'll sit,
In the middle of the stage,
Back to the audience,
A notebook in one hand,
Knife in the other.

it is many things
     solitary -- through ripeness
    and rawness, through the
      locomotion of dancers,
     and sensibilities of
     quiet tongues.

it is the many things you
    give alone, its persistent comma, its continual ellipsis.
    the inundation of delineations
and the gravity of its punctuation.

  with its fingers meandering
to touch a soul's lifted ether,
or simply to hush and still
  repugnant waters - astonishing
all nebula with its largeness.

it is so many intentions,
   yet, a single iteration.
  inveigled are the white shadows
of walls streaked with black light.

  what
     is
       it?

it is perhaps an impending collision,
   to no soul's severance:
it is the meshwork of grace
     or foolishness;
  it is the working of the word
from so many lovers and singlehandedly nailing us to our
    stationed cicatrices.

love's epigraphic, weightless,
   no more than size of
      a captured wave in net
  of stone: concealed in an eye's
     limitless space.Q

Singlehandedly,
Reducing the numbers
Of the homeless,
Poor and diseased.

By: Cedric McClester

Just like the parting
Of the Red Sea
Those who fought
The powers that be
Impacted their history
Thus, removing the mystery
Of what the whole world
Could one day be

Just like Jesus
Walking on water
Singlehandedly
Changed the world order
Those who fought
The entire four quarters
Won the loyalty
Of their supporters

Just like Daniel
With a slingshot and rock
Gave the giant, Goliath,
A shock
Victory takes more
Than just a talk
We also have to
Walk the walk

Just like Armageddon
We can tell
Just where we’re heading
The forecast is
Lots of rough sledding
For all of us
Because we’re forgetting
Resistance requires spreading














Cedric McClester, Copyright ©2018.  All rights reserved.