daj, do wynagrodzenia: reszty.
daj: to niby: siebie;
a... dam... dam...
ale pierw: powiem:             to!
(ich) nicht werden
                  geben (ihr) das nacht!
first... i'll punch myself
hard enough to give myself
a plum-eye: ******* pacifists...
and then?
    then i'll strap a trouser belt
to protect my knuckles...
and then... then...
                    then: we'll "talk":
who might find a translator
ready...
   god...
i'm gagging for a
knuckle exchange...
        almost... itching!
like i might await
a shaving... from a Turkish
barber... in Essex...
of all Danish palaces;
and why would i want to allow
consort with these women?
considering the fact that
the russian ones believe in trans-national
grievance taxation:
of someone... who hasn't...
actually died...
              you know what?
*******...
suffer...
       watch me wipe my ***
with a satanic smile
ennobled
by a coulrophobia...
excesses of vogue
                      atypical models...
how is it... that...
coulrophobia doesn't translate
in reverse?
  and what's up
with the black privilege of
jass music, akin to white mozart...
as...  
  sure as ****, the drum would be
the first, and only thing,
prior to the people learning
the ******* clarinet!

oh drop me your ****** ***
holocaust dead bomb
on a polish ***...
     i triple, quadruple dare you!
you *******... ivory coast
   centipede!
               i'm *******...
as watts: wild-eyed...
       unstrap me from this
"unreality" of conversation...
then undo the internet banking...
and the rest of it...

             not adam watts!
    glitter & doom....
who?      tom waits...
oh **** me... blue valentine?
if that's not a **** with me
album... what is?
                 live circus?
        
do i look like a ******* ****-
(see the hyphen?
it's a prefix... the english are
lazy sometimes: couldn't,
i.e. could not,
remnants of shakespearean
english...

       i'll always cite macbeth...

  time, thou anticipat'st my dread
exploits: the flighty purpose never
is o'eertook, unless the deed go with it.
from this moment, the very firstlings
of my heart shall be
  the very firstlings of my heart.
   and even now, to crown my thoughts
with acts, be it thought and done.

it's hardly a racial slur, ergo...
why so ******* sensitive akin to a french
footballer or a ballerina?
   ****- (hyphen! hyphen!) ergo a prefix...
as already mention:
no, no...
   it's not: no iraqi ever called me a pa-ki
      (pákí)... yeah...
and you never called an afghanistani an
afghan, ever, no?
   pure camaraderie in that part of
the world... all the way... yeah yeah... yeah...
-stani (suffix) is sometimes missing
because... the english like to shorten words...
e.g. why is daniel: dan,
why is matthew: matt?
  why is muhammad: mo (farrah)?
                                    ******* pansies...
police your circumcised penises fiddling
english teenager girl, first,
come after my vocab. justifications: after;
savvy?

or a gypsy?
   by now...
     i'm looking like any
traveler...
and the world...
       forever resembled
a world,
  in the confines of
      a claustrophobia...

but... if there's a bigger concern for
a world...
  and a freedom...
i want a bare knuckle fight...
a black eye...
namely...
you bring  BOXING GLOVE...
and i'll bring...
     a LEATHER BELT...
wrapped around my knuckles,
and the wrist...
    like i might care to give
a second attempt to smile...

ah... the men... who care
about minding, if not in the least,
keeping women...
      bye bye, bye bye...
       and i've allowed myself
to know my grandfather...
as i did the slap in the face...
and...
the key question:
in the unfathomability of counting
the 32 / 4 ratio...
alas... one fist... one smile...

and countless... dentistry encounters...
because?
   because the rest?
the cultural artifacts of a today?
  lost to h'americana...
            as i might have wished...
for my prior genes
to make an autobiography
in **** germany...
  
   what?
  
      well... obviously: the oops.

no, for the crescendo...
you know...
           i'm getting this funny vibe...
gott ist tot... it's not really spectacular...
nietzsche really believed in eternity,
to the point where he pointed:
what does science offer, only old age...
what does religion provide? eternity...
oh nietzsche was big on eternity...
   gott ist tot is as unspectular as:
is it: how to do you pronounce x,
or is it: how do you pronunciate y?
debate:
              everyone says around here
the former... since no one wants to be a *****...
pro-nun-ci-ate (pro-nun-cíate)...
   might as well replenish the vocab. bank
and replace the word with:
how do you elocute z? / recite)....

gott ist tot / gott ist tod...
    "same ****, different cover"...
you know why i believe in god?
    not the christian reference points...
salvation blah blah, saviour and hide & seek blah blah...
n'ah... where would i derive all my vocab.
hunger if not from him?
   some men derive their vocab. from
women or gambling...
            i am not in the position of their
luxury... so god it is...

            primarily though?
               god is metaphysics...
             ergo? his judgement is not clouded
by metaphysical questioning...
it's impossible to receive a metaphysical
answer from a metaphysical question
when engaging with a metaphysical
ontological paraphrase of one's own search
for meaning in this mortal frame...

oh sure sure, my belief in god is as juvenille
as anyone else's belief in humanity's
clarity when it comes to jurisprudence
and its application...
    i've experience "jurisprudence" once...
drive-by phone theft...
me and three fwends...
   i catch the number plate...
i tell one of my fwends to note it down,
police station, report, culprit found,
a sit in at a barkingside police station
looking at mug images,
spot the ****** (it was dark when the mugging
took place, photographic memory, **** happens)...
a court session, australia is playing england
at the ashes (****, i missed it)...
in court the defence lawyer shows me
another picture of the culprit...
back then photogrpahs had dates
attached to them...
the photograph? over 4 years old...
i tell him: but this photograph is 4 years old!
how can i identify if this is the same
person: i, myself, will probably
don a beard in four years time!
      a simple slip-up...
        now that i have a beard:
it's so much more fun than growing your
hair long... i hated the nickname
chewbacca back in high school when i was
growing mine for a french braid...
i walk out of the court,
come to terms with the detective...
and i see the same hunger in him as i see in me...
will justice be served?
highly unlikely... since the victim
didn't recognize the *** in the mug-shots...
justice was probably not served...

   and this is how god plays into all of this,
hell or heaven, blah blah...
man created the figure of domina Iustitia
as blind... god created death to be blind...
justice was never supposed to be blind,
death was: the unfortunate deaths
of teenagers in car accidents,
among all the other freak accidents...

clouded with so many metaphysical questions
i don't appreciate man's ability to adhere
to jurisprudence without being
subjectively contaminated...
i have more belief in an "imaginary"
god than belief that strains me to belief
in man's sense of justice...
          the nuremberg trials are a rare exception...
but only when the culprits are
unabashed and fathomable by a collective
sense of pride... a blidness...
i believe in god, because i'd love to experience
the judgement of a post scriptum of
metaphysics...
  personally? i have been wronged...
heavily...
            i will not name names....
i know when and how i was wronged,
and by whom...
                2007... Canterbury...
      i won't name names: i'm not a rat...
man is too clouded with metaphysical questions
to begin with, god isn't,
he's a metaphysical ontology "bias"...
which is why, he is primarily a jurisprudent
answer...
   i'd love to experience divine jurisprudence,
hell or heaven are not of my concern...
and i don't imply divine jurisprudence
associated with the polytheistic take of
jurisprudence via a solipsistic mechanism
of a minor god and the person in question
without the hurt party...
in monotheism the god is solipsism personified...
these days: also the personna non grata...
so no... gott ist nicht tot...
            he's a personna non grata...
i just don't appreciate the human *******
of law, law governance...
   come on, in england you can receive
an a.s.b.o.s. for your cockerel being too loud
in the morning, your dog barking...
           would you trust man with
jurisprudence?
  a woman was cleared of the ******
of her husband
       when she hammered his head into a pancake:
over an abusive relationship...
police, weren't, "there"?!
sure sure... the hammer will do...
i believe in god without a sense of reward...
i just don't think man is capable of
passing justifiable laws...
no man could ever pass the eternal laws,
gravity... 100°C for the boiling of water...
i need a being  who has groundwork
in eternal laws, in unshakeable laws...
the ten commandments aren't:
you shall not...
   more... maybe, you shouldn't...
they are the most pristine jurisprudent
laws available... the: maybe you shouldn't,
eh, chappy?

       i just don't like playing the thesaurus game
on the more tight-knit game
of "passing" the wink-wink of Solomon's
judgement...
please, **** me please,
i'll eat 20 raw herrings in a cream sauce,
slurp 30 oysters,
eat 40 strawberries on a hangpverl
eat out about 50 harem virgins
like a castrato if you ask me, nicely,
**** camel cockey:
lucly i landed on a black gold slurp
with plenty of bangladeshi slaves:
******* of riyadh...
     what did muhammed tell you?
you camel jockeys / sand *******
have clearly forgotten...
******* arabs: short attention span...
you need to remind
the retards...
the dajjal would come from the east...
a palace of gardens...
well obviously the prophet wasn't
thinking about genghis khan...
            
  hmm barbarians...
vikings, arabs: yet so inclined to like poetics...
funny, that...
the civilized peoples banished
the poets...
            the ruling class and their cushioned
people: sacrosanct sycophants...
wankers, basically.

    the hajr? muhammad spoke of the dajjal
coming from the east,
and the east being a city of gardens...
where isn't riyadh and where is mecca?
isn't riyadh east of mecca?
was the dajjal to come from the outside
of islam, or from wtihin?
      last time i checked...
sh'ite islam isn't friendly to sunni islam...
if islam was the one true religion...
would have a shcism have occurred?
i don't think so...
   a persian would never bow before
an arab... that much os true...

oh i believe in god...
given how man practices jurisprudence...
is it some sort of, a, thesaurus game
i wasn't told about?
to me the human quest for jusctice is
a thesaurus game...
man is incapable to pass but one,
eternal, law...
he's great at nuanced laws...
laws allocated to sports...
i mean, **** me, cricket?
the best vocab. you'll ever pick up...

even god isn't as pertinent
in making the sort of music associated
with the limited alpha-to-beta
of A, B, C, D, E, F, and G...
wow! seven... seven?!
how many heads does the beast
of revelation have? oh... 7!

i'll stop tolerating islam, and start respecting it,
when it, acknowledges its presence
as a character study in the book of revelations...
then i'll just move on,
having made my point...

until that time comes...
    it's 600 years shy of becoming what
degenerate christianity has become,
oh and it's ripe...
it's gagging to implode!
600 years and wait for it to become
the next secular vasal conglomorate...

the warning muhammad gave
about "the best from the east"
was in point of question:
   a reference ti gneghis khan...
more like ibn saud:
  thst fat diabetic one eyed ogre...
and the legacy of decadence he left
behind...

saudi men with slavuc girlfriends,
buying up pink cushions and *******
chihuahuas...
**** after ****...
  you know the three slavic proverbs?
1. better a sparrow in your
hand, than a dove on your rooftop?
explanation?
better the small joys at-hand,
than impossible possibilities out of reach....
2. a drunk can spot east,
past mecca, whenever honing
the safety of his own bed... even at night...
not much of a proverb...
3. i don't care to rememeber...

once toleration comes into play,
i will, respect... just a waiting game...
i'm pretty sure no iranian will
bow down to a sunni camel jockey...
i like proud *******,
it implies: there are absolutes,
un-moveable goal posts...

                      if you are ever to bind yourself
in supporting a "side" outside a sports' dynamic,
always the outsider...
always the outsider... in this case?
the ****'ite islam brigade...
       the persians...
the sunnis can shove it...
   *****, bones, whatever....

                   ****'ite islam i can
fathom, even respect,
sunni islam i just tolerate...
  as much as iran takes claims for the
big satan in ref. to h'america...
well... if h'america supports the infantile
saudi arabia, who's to blame them?

you know that polonaise joke about
about the pacifism of jews in
2nd world world war poland?
the joke ran along the words:
weren't the jews shooting the nazis
using crooked elbows (rifles)?
they always seemed to miss them,
taunted into walking into gas chambers,
the ******* hobbits...

          what? some bolshevik Brooklynian
jewish rada is to spare me
                 the pay-up diffrential
telling me, i was wrong?

  as i said before: the nazis lamented
when the warsaw uprising happened...
no, st. paul's doesn't stand proud
because, because...
   even with the blitz...
                 the luftwaffe were told:
you drop a bomb on st. paul's: firing squad...
and when notre-dame de paris -
last time i checked...
   the nazis didn't luftwaffe the **** out
of paris... did they?!

                  the nazis weren't mongols;
no people so well versed in chanel in terms
of their military being so well
   suited & booted could ever make such a
                              architectural sacrilege...

what?! people under the silicon curtain
are gagging, begging even: for nazis!
can i be the first?!
i just want to please the hungry!
if not punk then moving swiftly into ska...
am i the first?
   siliziumvorhang...
well, **** me... from under the eisenvorhang...
what's with these neo-communist pseudos?

and the hebrew god?
a jealous god... so a god with the knowledge
of the existence of other gods...
why wouldn't a jealous god have
no knowledge of other ("imagianry") gods?
to be jealous of only one's own existence?!

3 / 1: that's the ratio....
that's the only ratio... 3 times i experienced
love at first sight:

when i fell in love at first sight...
malina, samantha, janina,
priya....

equal measure: isabella of grenoble...

in reverse:
magda, promis, ilona, kot (i forget her name,
7 years old, first kiss, you can be forgiven
to forget, she had two twin sisters
and she was the senior,
her fasther drove a distribution truck,
milk, i think)...

****, i actually mismanaged
that ratio...

i believe in "a" god...
since i find too much of human jurisprudence
to be riddle with the thesaurus...
i don't think man can pass
law, he can "suppose so"...
but he will never pass the sort of law,
made forbidden,
or absolutely allowed....
i don't believe in a god akin
to the sort of a pontous pilate god
where i'll always find myself
outside of punk evolving into ska...

         mind you...
i'd hate to be trapped within
the confines of an atheistic exclusion zone
of intellect,
      to be trapped in nothing is one
thing, but to be trapped inside
the confines of an atheist's "nothing"
is quiet another....
i don't like being a hamster inside
a cognitive wheel of another...
   god is the jurisprudence spirit,
man the metaphysical spirit...
and i would very much like to stand
in the light of divine law being passed
to finally feel my shadow...

kult: brooklyńska rada żydów...
  not familiar?
  i forgot punk a long time ago...
esp. when californians came up with their
version, ergo? ska...

i'm currently taping a film
about the silesian vampire...
how strange, that the prussians came
back into the ***** of the polonaise...

growing a beard is so much fun!
fiddle after fiddle: and no violin!
atheists bore me
as much as the theistic hags
who's only ambition are
the thrill associated with Sunday
h'america and cinema...
               i can imagine only one
heaven...
where i am blind and given
               a large library of music.

The time has come I can no longer try
As much as I don't want to I have to tell you goodbye

I've tried to get you to at least be my friend
I've also told you thst the way we left each other last we 'll be able to mend!!

I need to work on myself before I can love another
I need to quit my dependencies or I will never achieve the other!!

I have an idea on how to do it and just need to figure when I can and where I'll stay,.....
All I know is I hate this and can no longer  continue to live this way !!!

****** comersials on your average tv

next a show about teen pregnancy

followed by todlers in tiaras dressed as prostitutes on tlc

parents blaime others for 16 year old mothers

and guys who are allready left there seed

this isnt what its supposed to be

somethings different but when have life ever been as it seems

irational thoughts leave children with adult like dreams

, such as one day ill be the one on a movie screens

makin more money then my parents have ever seen.

intangible like the concepts we hold of love

. thinkin physical prosperity is owed since birth

but the only thing that is certain we shall die and decay like all things on earth

. then to those that beleive in love it is just a dream to keep our minds from becoming caotic and obscene

formaly known as lust to me

so then theres the question is it worth it to love at all

so you must ask if the high of belonging is worth the fall?

like love is a narcotic that we are injected with at birth from the first time being held.

instantly addicted  going from good days of smiles and your feet light as air

to the moments claiming you dont care but you cant stop shaking and you pull out your once beautiful hair.

thinkin looking at the stick wondering why would you go there

why did you let him carress and touch u

why did u ever give your purity up.

he wispered sweet nothings but you could never tell,

you could of even made him wear protection but now you think of you parents n how could you live this hell

you created this child inside of you

little bump a light kick as your face turns a new

this warming glow thst would change your life

but now mommy in the tub found her knife

I fell down today  and scrapped my knees, Daddy  can you kiss it please...
A cartoon bandaid, a few cookies & lemonade.

I was push today, Daddy she's  way bigger than me, she said cuz I'm black my hairs a weave,

I said I'm mixed and my hair isn't fake, she spit gum in it and pushed me into the bathroom  stall.

Can you help me, teach me how to fight  Daddy I don't want her to beat me up.


I have no where to go,

Daddy can I stay with you please, I've left him for good!

He won't be hitting me anymore,

Daddy  I need to sleep I'm pregnant & haven't had much to eat.

I got a job today and I need bus fare, can I have 4 dollars  please 2 for the bus and 2 to eat...

Daddy I'll be working after school,  at a hotel and I can even get a free room, 

I'll work in the front office and sometimes help the maids but it's ok since I'll now have my own place

I got married today,

Daddy  I know he doesn't  make much and didn't  ask for my hand but Daddy I really love this man...

He took me to the court house and we said I do, you were too sick to come and I didn't want to bother you.

I've moved away,

Daddy and I won't be coming back,

I left my husband since he has a habit of messing around, putting me down and hitting.

Daddy can you call me I need advise I'm married again 3rd time and  pregnant  for the 4th time,

I wish I could visit you maybe next year, right now I have college, work, and my 4th on the way.

I called you today but I've got no answer, we're  here now and I have a present for you Daddy, 

it's been a while and lil sis says you're not doing too well...

I tried to call you today,

I've forgot what your voice sounds like Daddy.

Forgot I can't  call you anymore, 

Daddy you're gone now.

Daddy  the realization  hits me just as hard as that girl  did when she pushed me into the bathroom  stall,

my eyes brim over with tears just like it did when I pushed out 1 of my kids...

I can't talk to you and get your advise,

can't get lemonade & cookies when I fall this time,

I miss all those years we couldn't be together cause I was in foster care, group homes and again once I moved to other  states..

Daddy I've married again have 5 girls  a few lost pregnancies and some really bad marriages,  3 times in fact.

Daddy I've had some messed up relationships along the way as well had a stalker from  New Jersey  even and what a looser he is,

I've moved  to a whoke new state 3 tines now and laat year I was super sick  and yet worse of it was not being able to share any of it Daddy ...

Not being able to call and hear your booming voice tell me how to proceed or you coming to make sure them exes and maybe even that stalker from Jersey  left me be Daddy!

It's been 14 years Daddy and every day I miss you so much,  but right now Id take the advise and tough  love.

No longer married but I'm sure it'll come...

hehehe maybe  4th times my charm,

right now I'm fine as things are I have 2 cars just got a new crappie job a new house and all your grand kids are doing good so far.

Daddy I'm a grandma  isn't thst crazy and my 1st born your  grand daughter's changed her life round, she's coming home to get her son.

Even though I don't see you I know your with me and one day I'll stand on ya feet and allow you to lead me in a finally dance,

I know someday we'll be together again , with Mommy and my grant parents

Daddy!

Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
         K.A.C.L.N ©
     All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present

You are the sad love song I hear on the radio
You are the boy causing my friend grief and heartbreak
The empty beer bottles scattered all over the floor
The dark eyes staring back at me in the mirror, eyes that are not mine . Ones I do not recognize
You are alternate side parking on a thursday morning
You are all the reasons why not to leave my house on a rainy day
You are the little girl walkin the street alone looking around for the caring parent who will never be there on time to pick her up for school
You are the fighting couple in the middle of the street everyone walks by and doesn't pay attention to
The crushed up cigarettes on the floor that took someone's life
The wrong lotto ticket that the family on 6 was depending on
You are the emptiness in the poor mans stomach
You are the smoke coming out of the angry mans ears
You are the green in the jealous mans eyes
You are the deserted street no one dares to walk on
You are the outcome of a helpless soul
You are the feeling of anguish that rushes over the lonely widow
You are the voices of the unheard children
You are the letter that was never received
You are the lost the destiny
You are the never ending tunnels
The aid who never came
The hope which started to fade
The life of that fine young land
The reasons why we get do mad
You are thestory I can not write
You are the fear on thst dark stormy nigt
But out of all these things you are the one who ran back into the falling towers .
The sun that's hiding behind the clouds
The boy who plays his guitar on the street that doesn't give up
You are the penny that goes to charity
The older brother that protects his siblings
The mother who is strong even though her husband left her
You are the one who keeps the world going
You are the kids who made a difference the ones who didn't let anyone change them
The one I go to when everyhing feels wrong
The one that listens
The one who knows
You are the story that will never be able to be told for you are the story I can not write , too many different sides of you . So many my fingers just can't type



You arethe story I can not write but you are the story that will be a legend for ever .

The kidnapping of Brian Allan and Ryan Clark


You see this masked bandit was roaming around the streets of Sydney trying to catch Ryan Clark cause he had this obsession sign he surfer dude, Sam Marahall, and he pulled up on Bondi beach and grabbed Ryan Clark and tied him up and put him in the back bad then decided to go to Canberra to catch Brian Allan who tried to be like Sam in the sports boy bit, ya see Brian Allan started the phantom league and as he left this masked bandit put his hand around Brian Allan's mouth and pulled him in his can and for Brian it felt like being in the back with his brother but now he is with Ryan Clark and this masked bandit has it in his mind to lock these two boys in his bedroom as he goes our avid gets more little cool kids, so he can get rid of thst nonsense of the streets, and get the days back to the dinosaurs years, you see Ryan Clark was very scared and for the first time in his life, he showed his big muscly legs and they were ****** white and Brian Allan showed his muscle legs too and the bandit wanted to chop both these sportswatchers heads off
And he will do it now, and then Mark Marlor went past him and said, your a ******* mate, and he grabbed Mark and threw him in the bedroom as well, yes Brian and Ryan and Mark were trapped forever and ever,
And you all will never escape


Sent from my iPhone

I have to hold back my tears. No one can see me like this, vulnerable and not in control. 
They think that i can fend for myself, what do they know? Truth is im in need for their help, for their opnion and inspiring words.
For a long time it was me in the middle of the sandwhich. My older sister covering me, and i protecting my ypunger twin.
Its funny how the sandwhich turns into how my life is today. My older sister takes up all the spotlight, claimig it allfor herself. Absorbin all the attention until there is none left. I shake at the words she wont utter, like a simple please or thank you. How she would never help my mother how she leaves my mother fighting so hard, as she sits on the couch and jist watches. When my mother asks for her help she will make it more like a burden then helping out of respect. I will do any of those thigs in a heart eat just to take the stress off of my moms shoulders. But again thats how we differ...

As for my twin the one that i had felt the need to protect since we had been in the wound together 16 years ago. How can i put in words all the feelings she leaves on me? She is so irritable yet i yearn to watch her succeed. She is as slow as a turtle, yet sometimes shes as sharp as a knife . Some nights ill catch her talking to herself, it pains me to see her over think things. After so much effort of tryin to help her all i can do now is make beleive im sleeping, pull the covers over my head and let the tears roll down my cheek, burning it under their touch. She has this problem and the tendency to ovetthink thongs from the stipidest things to the most important. She lays them all on the same scale not considekg the dfferences betwene them . As muh as she overthinks , when she has an idea she lets it cloud her judgement.l
 I remember thst one time in our cribs its blurr but i still feel it in my blood. Diane had my moms attentiom absorbed for she was alsay a cryer even when her head hutt a lottle bit. Michelle  was sick with strep having my moms also and my dads granparents. Then my head throat and whole body was killing .. All i remmeber was keeping my mouth shut. And waitig for someone to come ask me how i was feeling. Which no one did.And still as i cry typing this no one will ask me how im feeling, for i have middle child syndrome

It follows you everywhere,
From place to place.
It reminds you of who you are.
The you you can't erase.

Its the thing that lurks in the
Dark silhouette, the thing you fear most.
Its the thing you hate to look at,
The thing you're afraid to keep close.

Its the thing lurking behind every
Closed door, the thing hidden
Beneath every unturned rock.
Its the thing you you push away,

The thing you try and block.
It's followed you over every
Life-changing year,
Its always mocked your every

Move, examined every fear.
Thst something is you,
Always there.
Hiding from every pain you go through.

Always there,
Just ready to blend.
Take a second look.
Consider it a shadowing friend.

hes alway there.
when ever im in pain.
one the of same
hes there to remind me to breathe.

I think hes beautiful, but he doesnt believe me.
i wish i know wht he actually thought of me.
if i was a wasste of time, space or breath.
or if i had the same effect on him thst he does on me.

i feel his pain.
i feel his heart, beating in her hands.
he loves her.

but yet again.
he reminds me how to breathe.

Somethings you just can't catcha break upon.
You dare if you do.
You dare if you don't.
It's thst Catch 22 rule.
That hinders many of us.

If you do right.
Some will say you done wrong.
Although all the support stands in your corner

It's hard when the button is hot.

Many has became a escape goat.
All because they honestly spoke up.
Against the hypocrisy they see.


To be, what one is not?
Shows the world plenty and a lot.
And to not do, what you say you do?
Proves you was trying make someone appears a fool.
It's the Catch 22 rule.

To do right.
Means you willing to stand up.
Against those that's very wrong.
It takes courage to stand strong.

Seems like torture when you see me now ...
like a dark corner is more comforting than me....
You will hold my hand and let me in briefly...
but longterm promos are no longer available ...
Mostly im crushed that you like most fed me hope...
But no time for sadness because we are now going slow...
you say ur liking our past more than you will view future..
Like it is of no concern to others where this liffe leads
just hold me tonight and remind me how it felt....
to finally be able to say im going somewhere now,,,
thst she is mine and nothing will tear us apart ...
But then the part i enjoyed most ..
the idea that i could finallly heal my heart .... i

i am all but confused
My shadowy thooughts dance under the rain while a part of basks in sunlight.
I am all but empty
I claim satifaction with an all rounded sense of hungered.
i am all but vain
I bath in my glory yet to be proven to mankind

Where does my motivation and depression come from?
i fear that i canot tell.. a pity
In love i am tenderly caressed but with fleeting values
In bitterness, i am a wounded lioness seeking revenge,
hurt but with a focus.

I am tempted to ask myself,
where does thy motivation come from?
From the posionous romance of shakespeare?
From words abouts the sullen hull?
From temptations of the daffodils?
From the pain thst lurks therein?
From the sweetness of nature's gift?

Sadly, as i reminisce my past inspirations
I who was oce dull, tentatively recall the forms in which they came
From the bitterness and Sweetness of my heart.

March 18th is a special day for my bestfriend Adrian
It's been a rough year
But somehow we came out on top
We have eachother's backs through thick and thin
When it comes to problems, we have our friendship to help protect us from the hate

I tell him so many times "I love you" but I just feel that it's never enough
Nothing is never enough for Adrian
He is thst special that I would give him my world
He deserves everything
He is the nicest person I know
He tries to make everyone happy all the time
He deserves to be happy
So that's what I'll give him
I'll give him happiness

I love you buddy to the moon and back ⚓⛵

This will be my last time to spend with him....
I really don't want this last visit since my attitude will be pretty grim.

I will try my hardest to be as sweet as I can ...
But he will probably lie and **** me off and there goes thst plan ....

I hope to have a nice time and just know it has to end.....
I can't anymore act like I love him... I hate to have to pretend...

There is only one man for me....
And unfortunately you aren't he !!

I lay awake at night staring at the ceiling wondering why I can not turn my thoughts off.
Before my eyes the  ceiling comes to life playing out scenes from  my minds recollections. Is this a dream or am I awake. I know I remember doing these things thst are unraveling before my eyes only In these images I do things differently. Could this be my conscious telling me where I went wrong or is my brain playing tricks on me.  I wish I could close my eyes and this movie would end but even with eyes closed the story unfolds.  It is hard to differ between reality and fantasy. Which is real and what is the moral to this story.  Help me understand

my neighbour is having a solitary moment
with a wee bonfire in the backyard...
don't ask me... i watched his father trim the grass
a few hours ago...
maybe he's burning that...
or... whatever the reason... it's in the corner
of my eye... and the flame is big...
and small enough... that.. if warranted...
would make a great... theatre of soliloquy...
i'm yet to see a shadow enlarged
and gesticulating that it's talking...
with a raised arm... the other arm playing
the gratified ballerina when the applause comes...
hand entombing the heart...
      i'm yet to see a skull hamlet & co.
             "moment"...
                       so that's my neighbour...
i'm perched on a windowsill sitting on a folded
leg...
           and trying to crackle my throat
like a perched crow...
                the jay bird is of the same family...
        it's a crackle... i'm pretty sure the bird becomes
its new: "revised" distinct when bound to flight...
it's very hard to find...
boredom and existential exhaustion as...
synonyms... however back you look down the
entymological route...
   i couldn't have scribble: if only...
     i couldn't have scribbled this out of...
borne from a compliment to make "boredom":
a necessity...

          perhaps i am... existentially exhausted...
wouldn't you be?
if i were drinking some kalimotxo...
               or 20 beers... there would be an incremental
effect being felt...
which is what makes drinking a fun:
a social... something to borrow from:
"celebration": disinhibition?
                           only because of this one series
drama: sharp object... which made...
led zeppelin somehow "cool" again...
   in the evening... which didn't make it to...
the: the best of - led zeppelin double **** album...
either...
           so my neighbour is having a bonfire...
and there's nothing eerie about the silence...
esp. when there's a humming...
a fire is talking... but it's not the sort of fire
most associated with pine needles...
pine cones... and ancient oak...
           so he's doing that... i'm smiling... perched...
and drinking ms. know-it-all *****...
and... that's the problem with *****:
you have to wait for it... then again:
merely waiting is not a desirable affair...
and preoccupying myself with: "something else"
for a span of 20 minutes...
       waiting for a k.o. instead getting to play
the fiddle of grand itch-maestro with...
a if it isn't a cat nicknamed by schrodinger...
then all bets are on Pavlov...
                   but it's such a tiresome debacle...
had i made a video and had it... (x, y, x) of traction...
yadda-yadda...
          all the drama: soap-opera i could have
enjoyed... an imaginary street...
with imaginary squabbles...
        but none of the very translate-worthy
orientations of minor frictions...
         the bonfire is dying off...
the fire hasn't been fed dry pine needles...
or pine cones... or merchant oak retelling the story
of marco polo and... to the fire with me:
none of this... mahagonny sheen:
i fancy... a rough stone turned into a marble-esque
sheen?
                         it might just serve
a wooden hammer... to tell the difference between...
well... my initial presumption...
should lady justice be coupled with a gorgon?
lady justice and medussa?
  iustitia (who holds a sword and scales)
& prudentia (who holds a mirror and a snake)...

perhaps if Iustitia is blind-folded...
prudence can have her mouth stitched up?

but i'm still waiting for the ***** to kick in...
and so much for "fun" trying to find oneself:
with all the readily available knowledge and...
not... not: plagiarizing...
     or "jumping ship"...

   there truly isn't some sort of worthy compenation...
the served platter: the swedish table of...
all the foods presented... and you come
and stab at the nibbles... in a congregation of
those: given the advent of eating where:
no heart or its content is of a debate-worthiness...

beside the ancient roman glutton...
and... the well trained oesophagus...
          and regurgitation... and what was once
the celebrated icon: the snake...
would sooner or later have to be replaced
with a tapeworm...

    the serpent has had its day... and marble...
time... for the lesser creature... then again: perhaps not...

in "celebrating a drink of *****":
well... so much for... hunting a mammoth...
or... sitting beside a bonfire and...
telling stories or: dancing ****-naked
and dancing...

         i see no circus(es): beside the heaps and
heaps of bread: a character "assassination"
in writing...
sooner i'll catch a glimpse of a ballet choreographer
pirouette...
than know the difference between:
spinning an uncooked egg...
an egg soft-boiled and an egg: hard-boiled...

a racing track... equivalent to...
being hypnotized by... a spinning vinyl...
because... yore! that beacon of yawn rummaging
in the background of ambience...
and refrigerator drizzle of:
when falling rain became infused with...
electricity...

- alt. to "say" shish-kebab (let's be swabian...
and... "forget" the hyphen...)
like a toothless dog...
indeed... sometimes the tip of the tongue
teases the palet(t)e... hard or soft...
but sometimes the tongue-tip teases the top
frontal incissors: teeth...

where is the concept of the: rhapsodic...
the rattle-R... the quick... imitation
juggling of the tongue against the palete...
where the breath that involves
the uvula to swing like:
"for whom the bell tolls"?

                   do you see anyone taming
a ******* coch draig... anywhere?
this? this being "this"... "vicinity" of da-sein?
there-being: there's (there is)...
          on the moon... the alpaca trail...
in el dorado... in how the zulu tribe announced
a pristine: sod it...
          if only bulls were used instead
of horses: all that grit and armour...
notably of the cataphract...
                       if only bulls were used...
but: who's here to "rewrite" history
of that already, past... and inevitable?

the terrible has... already happened...
               í hiechyd ac tragwyddoldeb!
                          to health and eternity!
chiral: no...
     cheaper: no...
              i will find the "hark"...
   chosen... no no no...
                    similar (soft) to kid...
hybrid esque...
                 that "h" is not a surd...
verbatin 'e hie'....

                Olav! Dmitri!
Igor! meine hoonds!
                  ч - cheap... ah... roaming
in and around Midlothian...
                    loch ness! no prefix to suit up
a tux into... comes as a "surprise"
with the suffix: a loch...
                       х: hardly... k, s or c... or z...
xenophone: yuppy... aye aye...

              trag-wyd-dol-deb!
  zee velsh: sometimes the added same,
consonant... nurse! scalpel...
makes way for perfecting the syllable
incision... like so... trag-wyd-dol-deb!

   the lights have been dimmed on the tablet...
the battery life's longevity: expoinential explosion...
it takes so much little electric conversion
to feed the sap of sound...
that it takes to create blinking
and not blinking: murmur:
picadilly circus phantasmagoria of u.v. -

you can be crowned king deaf...
fall asleep with the radio... when the lights
are dimmed...
       no sooner me: no sooner you...
but... i'd much prefer the sound
of a fox at night...
than teeth gnashing... frothing: idly hungry...

all and no science: "or"...
all and no politics... "or" all of politics and all
of science... and most probably:
when the priest would wear a gown...
and the vatican remained neutral...
      
       etc. etc.              beside the vote:
or: woe... or woo...
        and such is the suffix association
with:      -man...
                    that there's some sexually
pervasive: attachment of either:
wooed by woe...
or... or...           to be woed by a woo...
  the beta gang would be singing:
bigmouth strikes again in a placebo
rendition...
                 because when you want to pirate
the original: it better sound just
a little bit more than then most...
    effeminate male available...
a morrisey will do jack ****...
you have to go full-tilt hindu and back
into transgender with
                                  a brian molko...

or at least that's how i concern myself
when managing to sit through
a production of tchaikovsky's ballet...
   beside the feet: what am i looking at?
spandex... the bulge?
     like it might be some covert name
for a battle, crisp on a piece of paper:
before the puff of a battle of crisps goes: pop!
in between the fudge of marrow
and the shrapnel of bone...
              here... i find my throne...
in a memory that's at best:
an amnesia...

             and somehow lodged in:
the... would-be... renting bums of dreams...
the squaters... the dream circuit...
when... in 1973... england drew 1 - 1
with poland...
                when being... just 7 years old
from 1966... an epitome for a very befitting
ending...
a closure... like any other...
             grandp'ah once said... once said...
and great-grandp'ah once said... once said...
sure as **** the logbow men of the 100 year war
weren't english... last time i heard
that churchill "mishandled" his V...
the original V voz viz zee velsh...
             index and ******* at
the fwench knights... since... if caught...
they'd cut 'em off!

                 V-salute! salute!
                           the blitzkireg overture...
         compound! no spaces in between: no hyphens!
der blitzkriegouvertüre...
        
   "together" come "together:... the disenfranchised
speculation of... what it was like...
to borrow from the first sequence
of the 20th century...

       and pass it into... what was it like...
acid neon: blonde... the culprit of bringing
the "congregation"
   past-participle: a romania a yugoslavia...
and a poland... nerve-riddled lithuania
and whittle estonia: etc.

      that grand boag bear o' ruzzia...
             wit' its ever persistent euro-fetish...
windows! windows! we need to see!
kandinsky translated into wind!

       on this democratic canvas...
           on this democratic canvas...
einz! zwei! drei!
     raz! dwa! trzy!
                   hey presto:
               on this demokratischleinwand!
meine stimme...
   meine: boo!
              meine: ghulrückzug!
               ich: bin zu sein gehört... ja?!
  
          this grand idea of a(n) european family:
get together...
   under the banner of: der VierteReich...
                the penned scribbles of
could always replace the boom-boom-'ombs...
and the brit-thai... would sit it out:
gob-smacked into shackles
and halos and angelic wings found
in the replica bargain of dry twigs...

the english sovereignty found among...
romanian root and fruit pickers...
              and if i too weren't lazy enough...
i'd have managed to find an atom-bomb...
glued my shadow to a wall...
and started a macaques' dance of freedom
from the magpie's cackle...
#metoo!

                   the cure and depeche mode made
it under the iron curtain...
the smiths? sorry... but i'm twice as likely
to appreciate them...

     the bass rummaging from fleetwood mac's
the chain...
and the bass rummaging from
pulp's wickerman...
            
                              canys y Çymraeg!
r. s. thomas...
                 that... battle of the season...
who is to know... beside auld lang syne:
whether the scots 'ave some gaelic in 'em...
except for the orthography: the diacritical & dialect
of somewhere akin to Glasgow...

  - that "unnecessary" war within the confines
of: the proud and selected: "empirical" and by invitation:
the trope... the welsh are...
are a silenced minority... and all that would
require "us" to confine "us" to "do"...
would be...
to stop thinking of england...
as a nation...
and... australia... or h'america...
as... a diaspora...

              clearly: "they" want to be at best:
and at worst: the distinct: genesis:
valkyrie first raiders...
in that non-essential war:
if the 1st world war wasn't...
seigl pandering lizzy...
sweden wuz neutralz...

                      woz she'iz notz?
            a pwetty pwetty: cobweb riddled face
like that of chris cornell...
               glue eyed but a background all
lacking in dimension for the sort
of immediacy of a curtain! cobain...
     yes: this is me... ******* on and dancing
on a grave:
last time i chequered my patience...
i found... the al fresco museum in a graveyard...
and the 3rd party artist working
on the marble... by gesture of wind and rain
and sun...

             how: exhausted by...
you cannot write an opera in italian...
to later translate it into german...
nor... clarity! sha! shtil!
                you can't... translate syllables:
like so... from... a japanese haiku...
into a... at best... a hiatus! a european sorting
factory of minor minded details...
of: adventure when licking a seal
on an envelope or...
a footnote that becomes a peacock
and a post-stamp when... detailing the affairs
of a piece of paper being governed by:
grieving having paired with it...
the metsphor / metaphysical aid of wings...

flake me: sire...
     boxing champ burroughs and all those
lost narratives that will never make it:
market a slow attention-span;
that's already available...

                          the muse my muse...
past the bob dylan and dylan thomas...
the priest and a cardiff...
        if only cardiff could boast akin
to how edinburgh can boast about
the old town and the royal mile...
and arthur's seat... and the craggs...

and... what women want...
mereditch brooks would never become
the next: the next to what next
of a... alanis morissette...
              never becoming... or being...
but all of that: for a continued cultural presence
of being in the recital rubric?
thank god for that...

quiet frankly? the la's": there she goes...
a little bit... a "little bit" irrelevant...
when you listen to the whole album...

the trouble with falling in love...
      is the trouble of: falling out of "love"
with one's mother...
                pursuit of the details
of a foetus... and all those details
of an unread book that staged its "fright"
on a bookshelf for circa close to a century...

             welcome party! or not so welcome!
i'd love to hear more about
welsh nationalism... since: on topic...
the scots have forgotten gaelic...
because of glasgow and being: oh so all
so-over pristine & perfect...
at least the welsh! oh god...
the welsh! on these isles!

hyphen! enter!
cymeradwyaeth

               cym-era-dwy-aeth
                      cym-erad-wyaeth

applause!­ and i'm trying: so trying...
to live for a liszt and lady gaga
as a summary of the jealous eyes
thst gave birth to bitter-tears...
yeah... fame...
and the cosmopolitan web of c.c.t.v.
"fame"...
the one already arrived at...
and the one pampered... with glitches
                               of editorial staff...

gu an cuimreach!
   - the escapade of keeping strict rigour / rubric
of being fed by adverts...
to have a buying impetus...
but not... the selling / haggling impetus...
from the cheap-*** moors and
the myriad of marrakesh:
   the berber: a latin for: hard-time:
quitting-time blues of...
            there are people still involved with
the a, z, via x q and... no readily available:
ph and th...
         because they were never...
the sort of brits... about to celebrate...
being conquered by ancient rome...
and ancient rome bulimia...
somewhere "circa": the baltic sea...

               - there's a "need" to be "coincidental":
pristine the developed mandibles
and the surname akin to singh...
        or... khan...
                   double that... for whatever reason...
and call it: Wales...
and then... the english-speaking conundrum:
"conundrum"...
and at best... nostalgia for 1990s
h'americana cultural export of:
fwends...

                    then: at best...
Wales is... Silesia... but at worst...
                    Ruthenia... and / or... Galicia...
that now Masovia is...
and how the Prussians were once
the fabled lot of the germanic left-over pieces
of a people: "******" by the standard
of teutons... or... what part of the glorification
of ancient rome...
oh, right... the parts not making
the germans the antagonists...
the "paraphrase" of the unexplored...

                    that only the english...
were to be so proud of...
a much later "digest" of... to have a "comfort"
within the confines...
last time i checked... there was pride in being
graffiti riddled as the afghanistan of
the ancient period...

             the unique history of island-dwelling
folk...
that they are... and i... can write
in their lingo: as... being devoid...
of... root...
              what is the great wall of china...
when what's already available...
given the la manche...
                                                       ­                 is...      
is not...
                 such a most pristine choice
of gentleman... and all!
and all! and all were tio be advocates!
and vote bound to stress!
king and country and the pickwick society
of: loitering gimps for worth of letters!

half a face divulging shadow...
half of which encompasses a play:
a ghost riddled... humanoid loiter
of exaspersation... and none... which,
would be most available...
to loiter... for the apple of Judas and
tht clinging... #30 pieces of silver...

thus wed: las vegas english...
      loitering actors' spew:
awound an Ilfowd 'n' Bawking 'n'
Dagenham... yo popsickle
'ipe and joy-c-c / jewc...
or whatsemfwench callz: sauz...
via dat: zu-not-my-*******-zoo.. ju...
plonkers & sons. (available)
jue: not juice 'ough...
******* kite-fliers!

            talks a cokckey slang like
a cherry... and that's...
the last left-over before mr. bangladesh
    before: quckie does one speakin'
"smart" did anyone any 'ood...

'oved up a 'arry 'n' the 'etter 'alf
of the... non-essential...
sounding "smart"
in cockeny: to be made export:
"loading essentials"...
is... hardly... the right sort of
***** avenue of:
escape from cwawddyff:
you... poke you poke my eyez
out... you... better start sounding
cockney shmartz...
eh: ja: herr?!

       **** it... whatever...
elt'z and etc. this bogus party back to...
and so call itz...
a limboz partez!

i don't know....
but like... a ******...
thst's not overtly-pretentious
about opera...
makes me feel
warm... all inside...
like eating a doughnut...
screaming off
chrysler:
*****! dino bones!
   it's like...
       i am allowed
to heave a hope for man...
and remain dodo-project
intacts...
    and tell one woman:
your god,
is a mastrimony to
having abdandoned me...
how a white
****** imitates
a black woman
with "her"
innuendo tractact
of imbargo
for the scuttling tongue...
i have to simply start
calling trannies:
spies...
     or the gargantuan
mimic scoops...
with woman having
made the digger's grave
of a man's primordial
basis...
        i remember
chasing shadow,
and a non-existent
rainbow...
hide & seek...
are the games played
by children
universal?
   with finding
genitals...
i feel...
there's one curiosity
left for me...
what came first...
the oyster shell
or the oyster?
              sieve past
the strutting chicken
encompassing the ****
scab.
HEIL!
  HEIL!
     uniformgrau:
alt. uniformschwarz!
coco-name-****-on-
the-chanel...
              whiskers missing
from a cat...
but a salute nonetheless!
trans- men make
me feel warm inside;
like doughnuts...
like...
i was supposed to feed
of the horror off women
being incorporate(d).

Don't ask or seek anyone's permission to be happy take it, it's yours.                                                                     You don't need someone's help to hate or dislike another person, so why do you put other people's opinion over yours when it comes to your happiness.                                                       ­  Why do you need them to say good job for you to be satisfied with your work, value your talents, your gifts or your great ideas. Most of the time is some if the time these people that you're seeking validation from are going through personal issues, are not qualified for the job or they don't care about you or they don't care about themselves enough to be a consistent uplifting group or individual in your life. Letting go doesn't mean giving up, outgrowing them doesn't mean that you think that you're better than them, puting yourself first when you need too; doesn't mean that you're selfish, narcissistic or that you're a bad person. People boasting about themselves or someone else while tearing you down doesn't need that you need to compare yourself and feel like you're not good enough or that you need to prove that you're good enough, often times that person saying those things are deflecting or projecting their own insecurities or weaknesses on you. Sometimes it's the people that you love that have bad intentions, low opinions, are intentionally discouraging, cause alot of drama, don't take much responsibility for their choices or dislike you for you just being alive or being yourself. I know it's wierd, sick and ****** huh, especially when you come from a family, environment that don't tell you these things or they went through it too but they ignore and move on but the cycle is still there and they're still carrying the pain underneath the surface. It ***** but as long as you're alive and have physical mobility you're capable of making a great life for yourself, you have a responsibility to make **** those haters off with your successful choices, you don't need to self sabotage, beat yourself up for your mistakes because you have perfectionist behaviors or ideas about life, you don't need have a bad day because someone else is having terrible day or everything isn't going their way, you don't have to agree with everything that a certain group feels because they might shame, verbally abuse you or spread rumors about you. You're strong enough take it, and you're wise enough to know your weaknesses and step away and work on your weaknesses to make them your strengths, you're confident enough to be alone when to need to be instead of hanging out with bad company thst use you as their cheerleader while, they give you nothing in return except for pain.

you wanna know how
you steal from thieves?
you kiss
prostitutes...
what?
you have something
against kissing
prozzies?
**** in ****
but not recounted
in your mouth
second time / nth
time a problem?
i like you already!
just give hgim the bag,
let's see what
sort of butcher we
make this reliquary
we make out of him...
   tough boy,
or a butchers' snippet
i feed off / on pain...
i, need, pain...
like k require...
don't **** with me
over  decent ingredient list...
******, don't...
i want to cook my mother
something special...
savvy?!
you only need one woman in your life...
just your mother...
and i will leave thst **** untouched...
no...
the mther is sacred..
sacred idle Cain benefactors...
but mother, is... motjer...
mother! is mother!
mother, mother!
              you take that ****,
an d teach it to the gang...
you... *******...
****-brains!
                 you fuking Hewie ******...
no! you ******* ******!
   you pass me by....
you **** me...
you get me?
          no?
then you better reiterate
being wonton of a desire to...
****... savvy?!
like i once reiterated
of a youngster
and a ***** bottle...
well...
if your uncle is so interested,
you better caalll him,
i have a death wish...
gues what...
                 ******!  come at me!
i want death!
i am gagging for it!
     black panther *****...
spawn.. probably the only
black man alive...

white men
and their equivalent
of their monk
stature...

  you...
funny...
   how...
white men
never found
black women...
    etertaining
    being
              encourged by....
  how...
black women were
never...
             attractive
to white men...
they never were...
sure...
black men were
attractive to white women...
but..
black, women?
not exactly attractive
to white men?
sorry. is
that, sorry, oh, oh what,
and there's a sorry?
i don't find black women
attractive?
and the black boys find
our clean-****-white-***
hoes ready and giving
a problem?
  my bad?!

me not finding black
girls attractive...
and black boys
finding white girls
attractive...
who the ****
is having the racial problem
with a worth of racism
being invoked?!
me... of the *******
bigger?!
i don't want
to **** a black girl...
but sure as ****
a black boy want to ****
a white girl...

         me racist?!
o.k....
me racist...
me...
now...
to be honest?
i really...
i really...
don't feel like
******* a afro-*****-bite-
of a bun...
no...
you take thst ***...
and you...
figure it out...
not a tank's **** chance in hell
in me doing it... solo...
         you do your ***** i, quake
with the chute...
sever mind, to boot the *****...
12"
and the buttocks...
              no...
             me... make antagonism
of
the buttocks
of the Mongol tribe "feel"
via the 12 pound **** ozone...
        how about no?!
        no, i tend to keep to forget...
what you are?
                   ****** *** ***...
you... you?!
                i much prefer
sifting through
prostituted *****
than what could,
retain
a ****** ****-and-'cant's-
counterpart.
the wil, and the willow,
or what would havd made,
the current fest...
of a man within the
face of
an u. s. a. counterpart.

There is no bliss in this distance that we experience. There is emptiness that resides  while no one hears my cries i slowly feel like im losing my mind. This is alright. Right? At least we have time for ourselves. But the thing is its not my time that i need this time. I dont need to remind myself how bad i am at being me. All I need is you. This is me being honest and all my words are true. Yes i am in love with you. And i miss you.

I am sorry for being overly dramatic. I know in this words it is not what you seek. I am an open book with no tricks. No kicks. No fakes. No lies. Just cries. With pain. Mundane feels. Beneath cold feets. It is 1 am. I shouldve been asleep. But words flow and i cant stop thinking about things i shouldnt think yet this thought flow like unending creeks. I cannot stop. I dont want to stop. I want this thoughts to overflow till my thoughtsbbecome thoughtless. Mind become mindless till I become heartless. Not thst i dont want to feel. I just feel like anytime i will explode in this vast universe. Spreading my emotions like the mushroom of how the nuke explodes.

All this. Allofthis. All of this just because i feel. There's beauty in pain but we should not dwell. I know it's addicting. I know it's enticing. It's a beautiful nightmare. But at the end. I just want to say. I love you. I am sorry. I miss you

This is not a poem nor beautiful. Just a thought that became thoughtless

See inside of me. Like glass is
No need for glasses
Slide slight to the right.
Soul moving slower than molasses.
I need this bad.... ****
Im not like bat ****
Drastic plans to relapse becoming
Every fibre that is...
Habit...
Enough with the rhyme scale

My soul is far beyond the closet clues.
The trail ismarked with turned stones
And it shows.
Ive already outlived the forshadowing eye and all its clueless compatriats
And in turn the oracle has granted me
The bliss of blindness
For surely she knows if i know
Than i will not succeed.
As if success is a glorious place.
To be adored?
To be loved?
To be revered?
As what?
A poet? A fighter? A person?
Okay back to rhyme scale

Massive mamoths collaborate
Against a backlit blackness thst
Only stars and collapsing suns
Can inhabit.
In amidst the magic
My body fades to shadows
Becoming hungry for the data
Only cohabitating
With the madness
And yeah its tragic
Slashing every logic meant to
Hold me captive.
**** this madness. Slash with panic
Disco tech. Im roman candles
Subject prone
To soulfull battles
And woeful tantrums
Every day is night between
The parted sky
I cry with eyes becoming animal
And in the balance is
Nothing more than
Shallow ground
Like pebbles
Flowering in pedals
Between the holds built in my sandals.
Im more a man today
Including everything scandalous
If its truth you seek
Make sure that you can handle it

Heaven has a new angel.
My father,her father,and other family members will welcome her
Others will take issue on things she said
and how some were hurt and forever changed by narcissism on her part
In 91 years on this khaki coil,she saw her children and grandchildren get married.
Greeted her great grandchildren in 2018 and recently in 2020.
Her spirit soars in lavendar blooms.
The monarches will always remind us thst she never really left us
She made her mark not like others but on her own.

C@rainbowchaser2020

This old Joshua tree will pray for me when I am dead and gone
And you will pawn my rings away and go and stay with John
I looked at you in my last breath but you didn't listen to what I said
You left me by myself to die alone in my bed

I crawled inside my head that night and looked for my God
I screamed as I lost my way, got lost in the fog
I followed the sound of howling dogs they lead me somewhere new
Somewhere where I knew at last, I knew thst you weren't true

The faires caught me before I died and said to me thus
"We know a way for you to fly you just need some trust"
I had little choice and in my weakest voice said "Show me what you got"
They took me by the hand and dragged me to a parking lot

They laid me out upon the ground and took my bounds from me
They tore the teeth out from my mouth and now I cannot see
They pried the nails from my fingers and toes and i never saw them again
And now I am half a man, it's where the fun began

They told me of a town they found marching east about a day
Maybe I would meet my mind somehwere along the way
But that's by the by as here I lie as I'm sure you knew
I couldn't slip a thing past you, new dogs old tricks

and all that,
becomes, the maliase,
off and of
the comfort
of the living
room cinema
experience
equipped
with single
motherhood...
  to...
   some,
sort,
of variant,
of the,
over-populated
psysche,
via japan,
of the, subservient,
simpleton,
me...
"you"
already took
the subservient
"said"...
   no comes "me"...
how much more
do you want?
ah...
i forgot...
the last "thing"
i want from you,
is... "you"...
i almost like
the sadism of being
left un-acknowledged.

i should care,
at this point,
shouldn't it?
oh... right...
american beauty became
my anaesthetic placebo...
so...
          care...
funny word...
petting dogs...
or petting cats...
i forgot which is
is why.

when women stopped
reminding men
what they were supposed
to want...
*****, revive me...
i'll give you a day's
chance in hell
to remind me of what i want...
and you still,
will not tell me what "i"
want...

             you want to play the
game...
  i play dodo...
you play?
    if i play dodo...
you play...
what?
what game, do you play?
i'll tell you:
the last game you play is...
role play...
scary... isn't, it?

       mother is no mother
is mother is
role play is role play is role play...
oh...
you "forgot" that part?
sure...
        michael jackson...
i guess i'm only invited to
forget thst **** too!