Real communication
Has been lost
In the depths
Of the cloud.

True feeling
Is seldom seen-
Now, thoughts
Are shown
Through emojis.

Does anyone feel
The wholesomeness
Of somebody else's
Voice anymore?

The smell of their
Skin, the faces
That they make, or
Simply- their presence.

Conversations are
Much more
Than the words
Typed out on a
Smartphone screen.

People are meant
To actually be
Seen.

Luxuria (Lust)

Asmodeus demon of lust
carnal manipulator
****** captor

Castitas (Chastity)

Embracing virtue
honorable wholesomeness
not through one’s weakness

Gula (Gluttony)

The egocentricity
with which the Lord of the flies
upon us relies

Temperantia (Temperance)

practicing restraint
prudence to judge with regard
remaining on guard

Avaritia (Greed)

The Mammon demon
controlling the warmonger
with vows of power.

Caritas (Charity)

Crave unselfishness
give unreserved empathy
love and sympathy

Acedia (Sloth)

Deny grace and God
so evil shall become fact  
when we fail to act

Industria (Diligence)

Fortitude is a must
persistence in conviction
zealous for passion

Ira (Wrath)

In its purest form
presents violence and hate
Satan’s fate

Patientia (Patience)

mercy to haters
receiving the grace to forgive
rewards are massive

Superbia (Pride)

Lucifer’s downfall
for excessive vanity
destroys humility

Humanitas (Kindness)

Sympathy without bias
belief without bitterness
inspire kindness

Invidia (Envy)

resentful passion
an insatiable desire
potent cause of dire

Humilitas (Humility)

think of yourself less
and not think less of yourself
don’t exalt oneself

there is nothing quite like
the first bite of a carrot
grown in your own backyard
or the second bite…
or the third…
the first bite is the ecstasy one would find
in wholesomeness
a shock, really
of sweet paradise
from winter wind upon your cheeks in solitude
from petting a wild rabbit with its permission
an unusual high
a remarkable instant
the second bite is deeper
it is more familiar and significant
like the hug you’d give your lover at the airport
like baking cookies with your little cousins on Christmas Eve
when your own spirit is crowned
king or queen
but with an equality like the trees in the forest
rather than a superiority like the ***** in the castle
the third, fourth, fifth
(depending on how big your carrot is)
are mere appreciation and wonder  
of life
of your life
cherishing salubrity, company, solace
and it seems when you’re done,
you’re not hungry anymore
and if you are,
all you want is another carrot.

And I know one day,
I'll look into her eyes and say,
"I love you"
With body language, with touch,
When the way she laughs becomes too much.

Fingertips like felt rolling over
Stitched feelings of brokenness,
Diamond eyes catch the unraveling
Of confusion into wholesomeness,

I'm mended, I'm alive, and goddamit
I'm swollen with #pride

A fearsome tune this afternoon, the heart beats,
A tiresome slumber lays, these bedding sheets,
Upon those *******, do these hands clench,
Whose passionate desire in needing quench.
Upon those eyes, do these eyes stare,
Into the wholesomeness of a burning flare.

A beclouding aura passes through the air,
A ship’s rowing rod that draws a near,
To row thy ship to the places of no return,
But pause’st the storm may be’st concern.
By hesitation of torn and eagerness yields action not,
Until the spoken offs sets towards thy inevitable plot.

Upon the smoothness of skin lays another upon,
And to’st thy cave closer and closer let’s be drawn.
But through pleasure and pain, do it’s the row,
And through love and tenderness passion a’grows.
And hold’st the truths yet be’st difficult are they to tell,
That reality is off toned and thus emotions hard to spell.

Make’s the beast with two backs, do us aflame,
Until this mere ****** label can we no longer name.

are feelings of love felt alone, feelings of love at all?
or selfish yelps for attention borne
of boredom & a sense we only hold on our own
of childish
- - - - idleness.
singularity less; more independence from a whole

the only company he keeps is furniture
together with the furniture of the house he sits,
with seven seats left empty,
the curtains tales appear to grin

without validation from another he feels
like a child standing
the school's final bells rung
the bustle of the day has droned
now dissipated

the bustle of the day irritated
when it droned, he longed for home
for the bus
as he waits for the bus the quiet surrounds hold tight
but hold cold
like a fridge door keeps, it clutches, encloses
the school yard empty
he stands; singular; out of place in the surrounds

the school bleeds terror when empty
The laughs & shouts & jeers & footsteps
keep the wholesomeness whole

empty of shouts
a graveyard now
the ghosts of the day linger
& they finger

your buttons they push
your tenderness they kneed out
they **** (with their cold digits they ****)

just like the furniture does.
just like the furniture in the house laughs
when uninhabited
it silently jeers
'Why so many seats mate?' it pokes with its linen digit; fuzzy but cold
as it continues
'you're alone
waiting for someone
to come by and pick u up
& take u back to home

Almost
found a hope that prevails
reaching for me under a starlit tent
Almost
built a boat that sails
across all oceans as they bend
Almost
filled my book with tales
an anthology of moments I didn't attend

Almost
what a terrible word
holding such a stinging truth
Almost
felt like it's all worth the hurt
while wasting years of restless youth
Almost
called out and haven't been unheard
found something I couldn't lose


Almost
thought any path would get me there
where wholesomeness is not just hearsay
Almost
kept a fire in sight that brought me to where
I would find the light of day
Almost
made them proud of me, made them care
made them listen to what I had to say

And now
from where I stand
a lyrical sadness
paper in my hand
I know this is true
                                                            ­             I can almost see you

I like calm in my eyes,
They don’t wander anymore,
Searching for something ,
Picking and nitpicking ,
The small troubles of the world.

I love the silence of the void,
It hums me into its stillness,
Takes me everywhere and nowhere,
Places beyond these dimensions,
Away from the all the chatter.

I adorn the nothingness,
It puts a blissful countenance,
It fills my senses to contentment,
I want it and yet it’s nothing I want,
It sends me to the above and beyond.

I feel this harmony within,
Tugging and pulling my strings,
Arranging the notes of my being,
A harmony born out of chaos,
And synchronised into a melody.

My kindled life shining bright,
I see everything in its wholesomeness,
Untouched by the worldly elements,
I embrace now that exists in nothing,
This universe leads me to everything.

To abstain is divine
From the cow
To the swine

No ****** hands
Let them be............

Despite what you said
I still love the red
The flesh to engorge
Sweat through
The pores...............

You are free to do as you will
Nature will swallow
The bitter pill.

I believe
in attachments
like sitting in a chair
smoking and drinking
while thinking about stuff
and I believe
in sleep and laziness
and I don't particularly
like purity or wholesomeness
and I don't even
exactly practice
moderation
so I guess that makes me
an anti-zen buddhist zen buddhist
and I am a good Buddhist
even if maybe I'm not.

There is an innocence in the first beer of the night.
when the mind is still free to breathe
and the legs free to walk
and the eyes free to see
and the heart beats on its own

As the cap twisted off
and my *** got comfortable in
the chair that knows all to well
how long this hell would last
I knew that the innocence would end fast

Time seems to fly by
while you sit and
do nothing more then
observe it


And I crave that dialog
that swims from my eyes
to my mind, like this secret
symphony played only for me

But you see, everyone sees
the same things that I see or
you see

This symphony has always been
that for all of us
but some of us listlessly rummage
in the darkness that anger breeds

Like seeds tainted with the devils
come it penetrates the hardest of
shells and births the **** we see in
the shadow of societies twisted ties

I’ll never understand why it is that
I am so enamored with watching this
destruction cross my mind but I am
and in the end it will too, end me.


It’s after the second or third beer that you become
cognizant of that candle that’s burning
in the front of your face

It smells like ginger and reminds you of
your grandma’s house for some reason

But everything reminds you of your grandma
when you’re into the bottle deep and wishing
you’d spent more time listening to the words
she tried so hard to give you

You remember the times that she wrote you
letters when you lived in a house with no
cable television, no phone, no VCR, **** there
wasn’t a computer let alone the internet

So forget about Tumblr or Facebook or
emails or any other way to avoid the mutiny that
mankind has become

Walking the plank was real and
no one wanted to be told to take that walk
so everyone acted like men and women
with respectful fingernails and clean socks
that could be seen when pant leg
raised when sitting down for dinner with
your neighbor

I always wondered what she would have done
if she’d been born instead of me
with all these tools
and resources at her disposal

She was a smart cookie for
the time she grew up,
writing poetry on a ledger that
time has forgot

And here I am just waiting for the
garbage man to pick me up
because I never had time to drive over to


her house before or after happy hour
always told her I tried and that’s not
a lie

You see there is a rush hour for drunks
like me

The traffic is stand still and
bitter and you can see the pain in the way
the driver in front of you clenches the steering
wheel, hunched over and ready to drive through
as many cars as he or she has too

Just for that dollar off a drink he or she
is going to drink regardless of the time
or deal they make

And it’s about that time that my right foot
begins to shake because I remember that
I am nervous even when I am three beers into
a black out night.

I’m never safe and you aren’t either
so says the sigh as I finish number three
and order number four

And one more before I hit
the door and cross the street
to buy the party treats for the
rest of this ******* night

Eighteen beers and a pint of
Hemingway.

Eighteen beers and a pint of
Bukowski.

Eighteen beers and a pint of
Celine.

Eighteen beers and a pint of
Wallace.

So I settled my tab and I shook the old man’s
hand who had sat and told me about all the
various things that could break a man

I checked them off one by one in my
head like a baseball card checklist that
at one time was the way I killed time outside
sitting in a summers sun

But now I *** stale cigarettes
and used up ***
to pass the days
as time slowly kills me
inside

The indian with the ***** beard
has my beer and pint on the
counter waiting for me

He sleeps at ease at night
knowing that he’s slowly
killing every drunk that
walks into his seven
eleven

Looking for heaven
looking for salvation
looking for ripe virgins
to sacrifice
for the betterment of a
whiskey night

American terrorists we are
when the dark hits the
tip of our cigarettes and we’re
fine with shutting our minds off to
the plight of everyone’s fight because
we have enough liquor tonight to


ward off the demons that come out to
play when happy hour ends and your
back in the thick of rush hour
The walk from that seven
eleven to
home is lonely
possibly the loneliest
walk you’ll walk
because you are left to think
about what you’re about to
do

See society has tied us up in
it’s restraints, painted us a picture
of wholesomeness that
ends up burning down the white picket
fences and ****** the daughters
while the son’s fail out of school
and end up in a trade
shuffling feet on desert land
dying at the hands of
the real monster
the monster with a real face
and no trace of giving a **** if
the enemy is man or woman
sinner or saint
just another enemy at the gate
trying to take
what ain’t
his

At the door now
you can feel your arm pulse
your ears twitch
your soul scream
you’re about to pour the first drink
fire the first shot
pretend that tonight
one of them won’t be blanks

I’ve retained this habit of keeping the caps of
my bottles next to my drinking area
or inside my pockets

I’m not sure when I began this
habit but it’s ruined a few washers
a few dryers
and at least one ****

At the end of the night there’s a little
graveyard of caps
a drunks Arlington
where you can morn the passing
of one bottle
after another
senseless, this war
you laugh as you keep pulling the
necks of these brown *******
drinking their life’s spirit away
with little remorse for them
or yourself

And that, in the end, will be your
undoing

The scene was casual for its inhabitants but an unholy terror for his eyes
A carnival of violence and debauchery, ages 18 and up if you please!

Walk on in ladies and gentleman
You’re just in time to watch the show!
This circus is rated F for *******
And now its time for the new act.
Watch as the young thing we call
Serotonin Sam battles her demons
Armed only with her blustery attitude
And a .44 mm Magnum

Terrified, he stared on as she lifted the gun and pressed it to her temple
Her face was placid, serenely calm through one exhale and an explosion

When the smoke cleared the carnival disappeared
Replacing his fantasy of wild music and colors
With the faded pastel reality shrouded in darkness
She wasn’t gone quickly, she just became less
With each self-destructive move
She lost another piece of herself
And now instead of a vibrant girl
He listened as a ghost began to speak

“Can’t you feel me,” she whispered?
I came here to breathe words of derision in your ear
Take stock of where we are and react
Just like the sweet little boy you are

Give me your innocence, not much but it’ll do
I need it to lighten my heart and empty my brain
I’ve never had the will to do so much penance
I’m doing my best impression of oppression
And fertilizing the weeds that strangle you
I’ll need to drain you dry of wholesomeness
Come on babe, escape with me

“This isn’t you!” He screamed while the carnival colors and sounds return
Everywhere he looked he saw a different fun-house mirror version of himself

He turned and ran as fast as he could
Tripping on bags of peanuts, discarded prizes,
and popping a lost bag containing a lonely goldfish
He keeps running until a curtain smacks him in the face
And the scene is the same.
But he’s the one out there now.
How long can he regale the crowd?

MAN
Staying indoors
Me wanting you on all fours on your floor
Miss the intensity that comes with waiting
Your heat is emanating from a safe distance
This is what it's like waiting to be set free
Craving what is unavailable

WOMAN
I like the wholesomeness of you
It make me think maybe there's some hope in the world
I haven't tried on your gentleness yet
Something about you
Says some humans are alright
Craving what might be available

I want to spread myself
like marmalade,
cover her
with my wholesomeness,
from her crown
down to
her pretty little toes.

Lord knows
how sweet she is,
I'll spread peanut butter love
all over the place,
look at her scrumptious-face
& eat her whole.

People assume things. They tend to do so every day, no matter the situation. Why? Who knows. What? All kinds of things. For example, they assume that the happiness I show them is real, when it is only a faqade. My happiness is the mask I use to hide my bitterness, my hate, my depression, my anxiety, my lonliness, my helplessness, and the broken pieces that I truly am. I mask many more things than this. My sanity is the mask I use to cover the fact that I truly am not in the right mind. I might not be insane, but I am certainly mentally unstable. My wholesomeness is the mask I use to hide the fact that I am beyond repair. I am broken in heart, mind, and spirit. My body may be intact, but the soul it masks is broken. It is broken in a million pieces and these pieces are slowly turning to dust - beyond repair. My smile is the mask that hides my tears. The tears that fall when no one is looking. My laugh is the mask that hides the screams of pain that constantly **** me from sleep. The screams echo in my ears and they never vanish until sleep takes over again. The make-up on my face is the mask that covers the tear tracks. My empty, emotionless eyes are the mask that keep my inner despair hidden. The hat, or hood of my hoodie are the masks that hide my scarred scalp. The scars there are from countless hairs being pulled out by my bare hands when I have a breakdown. My pants are the mask that cover my scarred thighs. The scars are from countless nights of countlessly and raggedly drawing razorblades across my sensitive skin. I am completely and utterly masked, hiding everything true about myself like a coward. I even take it so far as to hide my cowardice with a mask called strength. It is better to be masked than left out in the open with nothing to shield yourself, wouldn't you think?

I can tell where this is going.
Me, denying that I am in love with you,
You, flirting with those other girls,
Me, believing how I felt was new,
You, looking like an angel
Me, falling for your smile,
You, telling me it'll be okay,
Me, stuck in denial,
You, and your laugh,
Me and my hopelessness,
You, bringing me closer
Me, loving your wholesomeness,
And how you are generally good for me,
I feel like the dead sea.

We all wear skin.
We all wear clothes (or at least I hope all of us do).
We all wear expressions.
We all wear similar tastes.
We all wear differing preferences.
And we all wear masks.

One thing we all without
a doubt wear, are masks.

You wear one.
I wear one.

Mine has smiles plastered
on it all the time; it has joy;
laughter; contentment; humor;
happiness; wholesomeness;
confidence; courage; and
life on it.

It looks so pretty.

It covers the frowns;
tears; sorrow; longing;
self-consciousness; fear;
discontent; angst; anxiety;
self-loathing; and the death
that haunts my soul.

What does yours wear?

Because you love me, you hold those a’dear far,
Since those a’far, you hold dearly without mar.

Because you love me, you wield a grand mighty fist,
Which across my face does it seemingly, passionately kiss.

Because you love me, you speak not a single word,
As through the door have I rushingly stirred.

Because you love me, do you not chase me out the door,
For I have chase thou, only a single week before.

Because you love me, do you give not a single look,
For through an hour of the winter’s warmth have I shook.

Because you love me, you surround yourself with hungry crows,
That feeds your life unknowingly and reaps what you sow.

Because you love me, do you give the mind to those pesky crows,
And to me do you instantaneously produce your quickly no’s.

Because you love me, you cherish your crows greater than I,
For am I nothing but a tool, a naming figure, a passive shadow to thy?

Because you love me, my gifts sleep near a flame,
Whose warmth reaps the ashes of the heart, it claimed.
Because you love me, a pendant bestowed to you, split a’two,
For means nothing have you month not yielded the two a’glue.

Because you love me, thee crow’s charms sleep upon your bed,
For a tool-like shape do you and it gracefully wed.
Because you love me, upon my head do my heart you toss,
Whereas the pear-like plush upon your bedding does it doss.

Because you love me, you are unaware of those around,
Until they have advantageously brought you to your mound.

Because you love me, you say you love me with wholesome lies.
But it is only me that your mind wants, but subconscious denies.

Because you love me, you are grateful with the loss of I,
For at a deathly grave, a flower blooms ever so greatly high.
For what differences hold between either the crow and I?
I know not, for upon the earth I stand, whereas crows fly.

And that a heart holds only a finite volume of heavenly light.
Until it inevitably bursts by the wrath of the greater hellish might.
And with your grand fist may you then grandly smite,
My wholesomeness into shattering pieces, both left and right.
Until then will you finally arise to your greater heights,
For may you and crow make the happily greetings tonight.

belie the notion that one is complete
uncompromised, unmodified,
in thought and in motion.
as we reenact and memoralialize
ourselves with our past and
our wholesomeness of ego
we walk towards a chasm
of chaotic disruption
put there by our inner consciousness
as we progress we are
filled with trepidation,
avoidance and reticence
our thoughts
sidling around the task at hand
procrastination taking its cold grasp
upon our reasoning
our forward compelling movements
appear unnatural and stilted
as we slowly progress
our inner bearing pretentious
all thought and motion merged into
a lifetime of physical mental torture
a prison of our own making
so who in this blinding darkness
dares to step forward into
the unknown future that we have
woven for ourselves with the strips
of blue and crimson flesh we have flayed from
our own portals entwined
into the tapestry that depicts the epic battle
that we have fought and won over time immeasurable
who will take the double edged sword from
the lady in the lake and strike it once again
into the backbone of our mother
where we will lay cradled against her bosum
till she weans us from her suptle breast
and sends us once again to do her bidding
without our capacity for love
our understanding and compassion are
tools we still have yet to master

The thought swirled in sand
a tornado among calm desert
Claws pressing the temples
a dull ache through process

The ends that will never meet
like the golden thread of destiny
The fates holding their knives
screeching in undeterred agony

The circles of glorified eternity
and the endless stretch of wealth
Gears always turning soundlessly
in the presence of cruel time

Awaiting the decay of life
the destruction of wholesomeness
To welcome the absolute certainty
of a broken chain of repetition

AaAH !!!In this ecstatic fusion of
sighs,whispers and breaths
raising to wild decibels
in the aura surrounding US...

lover...
do you fail to just
see how my eyes well up
the instant
your gaze morphs
into that one touch


so what...
if your eyes fail to
see the invisible tear
in my heart as
...I trace those lines
in my silences where your
kiss lingered just a moment ago


How I wish
it was your soul
which lingered there instead...


*in all its vulnerable wholesomeness

When Im feeling like a Neglected Soul
The Presence Of The Most High Becomes Increasingly Mighty and Bold.
The Holy Spirit becomes So Strong that  My Flesh is overthrown and it knocks me Out cold.
I'm no longer in Control. The Messiah Overtakes and has a hold.
Upon entering into a Stillness
And Engaging at the Beauty of such realness
I can hear and feel this.....
Pure Silence, Peace and quiet.
Encountering this blissful moment in private.
In this place of dwelling
Here,  His grace and mercy is never failing
Here, His Unconditional Love abides
A place where Only God Resides.
A spiritual Realm
where in your loving arms is the Only place I can be found
Where I can leave behind the world and worries and enter into The Great escape.
In your spiritual agape, You My potter, mold me into shape.
This is a place that is hidden
Beyond Earth in another dimision
Even with my eyes Closed He still gives me vision.
A place where I'm drifting thru time and gracefully floating space.
This is our secret Place.
The place where I am safe and secure.
Now realizing All the Things I had to endure was for my personal growth so I could Mature.
Dimishing my mind and heart of the stress
Casting all my cares upon you in Exchange for my Rest.
You took away my brokeness
in exchange for soulfulness and wholesomeness.
Surely I am Blessed.
Happily, I give you Gratitude and Thankfulness!
Yahweh Is The Best.

belie the notion that one is complete
uncompromised, unmodified,
in thought and in motion.
as we reenact and memoralialize
ourselves with our past and
our wholesomeness of ego
we walk towards a chasm
of chaotic disruption
put there by our inner consciousness
as we progress we are
filled with trepidation,
avoidance and reticence
our thoughts
sidling around the task at hand
procrastination taking its cold grasp
upon our reasoning
our forward compelling movements
appear unnatural and stilted
as we slowly progress
our inner bearing pretentious
all thought and motion merged into
a lifetime of physical mental torture
a prison of our own making
so who in this blinding darkness
dares to step forward into
the unknown future that we have
woven for ourselves with the strips
of blue and crimson flesh we have flayed from
our own portals entwined
into the tapestry that depicts the epic battle
that we have fought and won over time immeasurable
who will take the double edged sword from
the lady in the lake and strike it once again
into the backbone of our mother
where we will lay cradled against her bosum
till she weans us from her suptle breast
and sends us once again to do her bidding
without our capacity for love
our understanding and compassion are
tools we still have yet to master

I shut my eyes
to a world of fire
I drink and I roll the dice
I say make me forget that I feel dire

Come and be close
push against my spine
let my willingness arose
let my vines intwine
your wholesomeness, my overdose
let's become the fine line

Between ecstasy
and that
which is not meant to be
I fed
on you like on a juicy dragon fruit
Reach into what the wild one brings
our senses sharp and acute
I spread my wings

Turn each other into creatures of the flame
my hands how they claw at your skin
don't hesitate, there's nothing to tame
and nothing this true could ever be a sin

Behold San Gabriel!
the far mountain is
stunningly ascendent
the city's smog
dissipates into a
a welcomed hiatus
white glaciated peaks
bespeak nature’s regency
a City of Angels’ crowned
in a mystic halo once again

Thunderous roads are silent
highway death tolls nose dive
life expectancy for the driven grows
Mother’s cry a million less tears
Tollkeepers palms are left wanting

For the uberites
the celestial scales
of supply and demand
have tipped gas prices in our favor
A litre of petrol costs but a few pesos

cars roaring down side streets
coating curbs with
noxious exhaust has stopped
Street running stick ballers eye
2nd base manhole covers
as safe to steal again

Some have been granted
A reprieve from a harried life
vexations of frenetic ways dwindle
The welcomed respite of downtime
Salves a bruised and battered soul

We’re invited  to dip our toes
Into small pools of leisure time
Escape to a hobby’s fascination
luxuriate in childlike frivolity

Time has opened for families
An evening’s repast
is holy communion
The wholesomeness
of a home cooked meal
Manna from heaven our daily bread
We share a sip from a cup of salvation

Climb up slide down
some shoots and ladders
Gingerly remove a funny bone
Without the red nose buzzing
Spend time in Abuela’s old kitchen
Learn her secrets of family recipes
Passed down from ancient
Borinquen forebears

Challenge creative sensibilities
Let the muse whisper a song
Into your willowy ear
Draw a portrait of a loved one
wash a buena vista watercolor
Compose a poem of perfect simplicity
record the glorious fictions of family history
Place yourself at the center of its epic struggle
Go noodle a tune on the old upright
Dust off that old guitar and flash some new hot licks
Take out the bongos and bang away
The blues are routed for another day

Sing a family circle song
where Daddy sings bass
Take an afternoon nap,
let the cat purr you to sleep
Enjoy the escape
of an afternoon delight
Than walk the dog afterward
in warm eventide twilite

The skies are resoundingly silent
Gushing engines contrail plumes gone
Jets blessedly overthrown by
silhouettes of crows on the wing
Listen to a new meditative lullaby, the
splendid symphony of avian adagios

Plug in to your body electric
Learn to breathe as deeply as you love
Listen to the rhythms of your heartbeat
And fine tune the condition of your soul

Eschew usurpations of politics
And tyrants that cajole to oppress
Seek solidarity in common citizenship
Take refuge in the courage of integrity
And dwell in the unity of the holy spirit

May a pandemic of love consume you
May your crisis open a portal of grace
May the closeness of friends and family
Restore you to a much better place

San Gabriel Mountains beckon
His halo crowns us all
stirred by the trilling trumpet
Wholly affirmed and filled
We answer his call

Bob Dylan: Thunder on the Mountain

Puyallup WA
4/21/20
jbm

-   At the liquor store
dense with nocturne.


My hair smells of domestic expense. I can feel the geography of my face burn when the man behind me tells his friend how far he'd stick his tongue up my ***. I leave without buying anything. Outside the air is thickening: the atmosphere hardens itself into a dome. Not even the thunderheads can hide my embarrassment. Under the dark sky my truck looks like a rusted pupa, ready to burst from its oxide swaddling. I pass more liquor stores but I am distracted. The moon is absent. My wholesomeness is bothered by voyeurism but my vileness gets off on it. Once home I notice the neighbors have cut their lawns and it is imposing. I admit my faults. I become needy too often - and weak the moment I see another insect cacooned in my driveway. There is shame in standing silently against torment so I kneel and confess my vileness. I beg my visitor to take me harder than he thinks I can bear.

Taste it, crunching sweet between your teeth and then onto your tongue.  
So **** and juicy with flavor, perfect ripeness, perfectly in season.
Now dip, dip it into the smooth and crunchy mixture of nutty, hearty wholesomeness.
The perfect combination of savory and sweet; salty and sticky.
The hunger pangs in my belly are satiated, satisfied, complete.
I lick the gooey goodness and sticky sweetness off my fingers.
The juice is still running down my hand.
My finger dips into the bowl, lapping up the last of the smooth, silky delight and **** juicy wonder.
I wonder, I wonder, what delicious treat is waiting for me next?

Writing happy poetry is tedious
But I want to try
I find putting happiness into words a galaxy-sized challenge
My bones have grown weary of the fire and brimstone thundering through them
My heart has grown desert dry of the melancholy that has consumed it
I have lived a life believing tragedy taste sweeter than wholesomeness
Force-feed beliefs that all around wealth comes only after a life absent of love and a full heart  
And I have years upon years of bitterness and rage as a result of believing in societal ideals
I want a heart full of wholesomeness
But happiness is more than sunshine, birds singing, and flowers blooming.
Happiness is smiling and, for once, meaning it
When laughter comes effortlessly
My body no longer being pushed down by bricks upon bricks upon bricks
It's waking up and wanting to get out of bed and wanting to start a new day
Happiness is the mindfulness of not being irritated by delays or mistakes
And not being brought low by the aspect of having to try again
Learning to forgive yourself
Happiness is being at peace with the silence between moments
Time doesn’t exist where happiness lives because there is no rush to get life done
Happiness is living
It’s time I start living

I HATE the world, but I LOVE it
I scream in horror, but I lust for it
I feel pain and aches, but I find aid and ease in it
I fall to sickness, but I ascend and enjoy wholesomeness from it
I observe syndromes and disorders, but saw good health and methods because of it
I throw up the world, but I digest it
I raze the world, but I still live on it
I throw away the world, but I recycle it
I find myself furled, but it's my life cycle
And then I remember one thing, this world is a gift from the king.
A gift so unique, an antique, very mystique
I remember it all and have a smile on my face
But I scratch my head and wonder how it became a corrupt place
Like a hammer striking a nail
Or an unexpected card in the mail
I didn't realize I could fail
To point out my very own mistake, I became pale.
I felt like a fool
I felt so cruel
With his blood on my hands
I helped create these badlands
I helped dethrone the king
I married the devil and put on the wedding ring
I sat in my shame
I'm the one to blame...
So I sat down for dinner
Went to bed as a loser, (and not a winner)
Closed my eyes and heard a voice
"God hates sin, but loves the sinner".

TRIBUTE TO STEPHEN KESHI (A DIRGE).
Our son has gone to reunite with his wife,
she left us not long ago,
She left in haste without saying goodbye.
She was young and unaged lovely to behold.
She was unwell stricken by the rough rod of
life.
She journeyed in sorrow to the white Lords,
The ones who have communed with all
knowledge,
To know the answer to all pains.
She left to meet.
He saw her leaving and bade farewell,
Awaiting her return in wholesomeness of
being having healed.
The day came, strange with Eerie note, it
was a day of despair and desolation,
A day of misery and the depth of sorrow,
A day of dirge and elegy.
Our wife has come home,
The love of our son has returned.
She came a different being motionless,
Borne on the shoulders of men in black.
The wife of our son has come a heroine,
She has come on a different tone.
She was his girlfriend, the girl of his youth.
The mother of his children.
The only true joy he has ever known.
We saw son our son's life leaving him,
Our son who was our source of joy,
A leader in the game of men in nations,
A legend whose kick and lead has brought
us victories by him we won trophies.
Our own son has left us in sorrow to reunite
with his wife.
The lady of his youth, the Love of his life.
Our son has chosen the hand of his love
from the world beyond,
Leaving behind careless his innocent
children, the very fruit of his Union.
Our son has left us in pain and sorrow,
He left us a legend, a hero,
Our son has gone the way of his wife.
Our son has gone home!
THE BIG BOSS HAS GONE HOME!

I am content
with thy firmament
In silence I hold my lament
My fear is my strength
it unfolds to earths length
Beyond what my eyes may see
I lay my trusty words upon thee
Home is far from blinded sight
A life hidden in a darkened night
There we fell into closeness
An abundance of things to confess
In simple wholesomeness we linger
Til I can reach thy lips with my finger

I am content
with thy firmament
the same one it will be
when we look up we'll see

Aaran: Let sleeping lilies lie, come what may
Each season has its time
In a field of gold blossoming, promises of spring
Of quality delights, yet but one is mine
Selected at their prime
Time is of such essence, render my heart s-t-i-l-l
Enamoured by this quest
O’er craggy hills, set on high
A myriad of mountains, piercing the sky
Through valleys of low, sifting through the land
A humble search within, of untold promises
Of whom is it I seek?
With the choicest picks of many
A fresh vineyard of plenty
Of room for such bold gallantry

Pearl: If nature tells a tale, is it such truth that I will seek
Of incomparable promises, adoration from above
A sacred lavished love, freely unconditional
Let righteousness prevail
A redirected ship sets sail
To steer towards his ways
Lest I avert love’s true course
A freewill field of freedom
With the choicest picks of many
A fresh vineyard of plenty
Yet a tarnished trail, leads to solemn ruin

Aaran: With renewed clarity, I’ll endeavour to please
Yet only one can appease, unwholesome ways
Bless my earnest days
In seeking you
Of desiring truth
Draw me back to you
Present wonders and clues
Yet of whom could fathom
Of my own understanding
Dare I leaneth not
To acknowledge truly the king of kings
Yet will my offering be pleasing to thee?
With a patchwork of progress
Yet to digress!
Misguided in the mix
Would thou now fix
To so fill a void
Of actions mistimed
Such an opportune time
Yet in this vineyard of plenty
I have selected not

Pearl: With vivid retrospection, beyond a quick glance
To recapture redirection
Choices not to my betterment
Such steps lead to a
F
A
L
L
A calling forth to consciousness
A gentle quiet voice
To hasten towards unfolding arms
Re-establish the connection
My Sovereign protection
My keeper, my guide
Of unharnessed energy
Be rechannelled set me free
No longer captive, twas lost – now found
Now replanted on solid ground
Such land is lush, fertile for growth
The gift of grace, bestowed on me
Yet interlaced with love for me
Search my heart
Explore the depths of my soul
Of a contrite spirit, a new heart in me
A catalyst for change, rearrange my compartments
Renovate from within
With purposeful living
Let it be so declared
Replanted in the vineyard
Encircled in care

Aaran: Where is my equal, of mirrored completeness?
Rare unwinding roads, let me venture to find
With cascades of choice
Yet a still small voice
Calls me back to thee
To search so diligently
Of the selection
Beyond our protection
A compromised yield – from a field of choice
Of qualities unqualified
A diminished light
Yet captured in your sight
I could run ahead, but a thousand miles
With aims to hide
Strayed from the path
Yet you would find me!
Like whispering leaves – you follow me!
I am your child
“Draw back to me”
Such energy spent
A tent of retreat

Pearl: If I am yours and you are mine
Here engrafted into the vine
With offers of replenishment
Drawn towards a living well
In essence to thirst, for a fragrant spring
From the wilderness, lest I return
With all that I yearn
I give to you!
There are no secrets hidden from view
You know my thoughts
You know my ways
You have carried me through all of my days
Sunlit rays of hope shines through
A maker of all things new
Apart from you – bereft of truth
Of magnitude
In wondrous awe of all you do
I surrender all to you



Aaran: Let their be none of me, but all of you
Without your workmanship – I build in vain
No substance of change
Effort exhaustion
To bear no truth
Outside of your will, no perfection of peace
Fruitful production will cease
Of majestic wonders, your sovereignty reigns
Your craftsmanship unparalleled
Emboldened tower of excellence
Such is your wisdom, of invested time
Creations of the divine
On the heights of love
Exceedingly above
All created things
Exhibited signs of majesty
Concerning me, you tend to my case
Casting all of my cares
Of honourable justice
Cocooned in compassion
Love unending
Continually the same
You reign on high
There is power in the name

Pearl: Soulfully renewed, with a sound mind
Confine the spirit of fear
Wash me with blessedness assured
Cloth me with sacred strength
Direct thy paths
Of intrinsic value placed in me
Keep me hidden and close to thee
Blossomed fruits of maturity
As a living vessel
Radiate your royalty
Of such a season as this
Rested beneath your wings
Guard my heart
A time of preparation
Be formed and refined
Yielded to the master’s plan
I shall seek your face
Of sovereign splendour
A veil of grace
In the midst of your shadow
For your appointed to find
Of your perfect timing
Of your perfect will
A laid foundation
A covering of silk
A precious pearl
A virtuous call
Of standards to surpass
With favour from high

Aaran: Instil in me, due diligence
To plough the field in solitude
Exuding excellence
In the accomplishment of a purposed will
Restorative rest
From tests and trials
Of requisite skills and character
Create room for special providence
A shadow of insight
Of your wondrous works
Let the vine be preserved
In season, to make the acquaintance of
A significant love
Of help to protect thee
Righteously reserved
To enlighten thee
A time of revealing
At a distance awaits
Preservation of patience
In your image created
Promises belated outside of your will
Of futile attempts to evade your plan
For I am not my own
There is help in you alone
Presented cares at your throne
In your presence may I stay

Pearl: One cannot underestimate motives established
In opposition to
For outsiders of the recognition
Of my true valuation
Let them locate me not
With casted lots they can but ill afford
You know my worth
You have me preserved
In safe keeping
Until an appointed time
True justice is thine
Let your kingdom advance
Counterfeit collectors
Of no business in here
Adorn me with your covering
Glory be to you
With humility and honour
To seek your truth
There is none like you
Blessed be the temple
I have been redeemed
For he is my keeper
Let me return to thee
A prized and treasured purchase
Such gems are rare
As a living sacrifice
Be pleasing to thee
Honour you in worship
With mindfulness take heed

Aaran: There is a ruler in the land
Of covenants and commands
A mighty love
With jealousy, of mercies that endure
He reigns forever more
Of the future and before
Of granted seasons
In spirit to discern
Of faithful steps where I am tested
To stretch established trust
“Will you walk with me, to a place that you know not”
With former ways forgot
A courageous look ahead
In spirit and in truth
Let me follow you
Every facet of my being
Awesome depths of knowledge, wisdom and understanding
Of paths to pursue
On ahead we shall go

Pearl: Do they possess your righteousness?
Were they sent in your name?
They have not your likeness
Conflicting with your plan
They bring no completeness
Disharmony abounds
With such fruitless planting
Upon rocky ground
Yokes of inequality to establish not
Presenting common gifts to exclusivity
Of access unauthorised
Of acts to displease
Claims of validation
Such will be disproved
Of a different team they are
Of their travels from afar
Of which of these can be after your own heart?
To see beyond the shell
Where favour cannot reside
Cast away their pride
Return from whence you came
Patience is a virtue
Let my life exemplify
With your gardening of reason
Of true love amplified

Aaran: To trust in your timing
Let your ways become my ways
Recharge my focus
The potter moulds the clay
A rebirth of integrity
A calling forth to lead
Of due responsibility
Opportunities embraced
So I shall arise
Evolving ever wise
Symbolising service
Blessed to be a blessing
Gracefully equipped
Faithfully serving
With reverence so aligned
Of seasons placed on time
Of suitable design
A man of the divine
A vessel of virtue
A good thing I will find

Pearl: An objective of order
Contemplating eyes
For whatsoever you find, that is unlike you
Be extracted, be removed
Reestablishment be loosed
One appointed master
Of obedience to you
Old ways be overturned
Of varied lessons learnt
Refurbish and restore
Bring your authority
Be the head about the door
Brought beyond brokenness
Restorer of joyfulness
Complement contentedness
Companion incomparable
Character in confidence
That of transformation
Faith in the intangible
Supernaturally sure
Intentional living
All of which I strive
No desire to arrive
Countering complacency
His bold divinity, will enhance my days
Divine provider of wealth
Of spiritual health
He stands in the gap
A bringer of true balance
His care is unabridged

Aaran: At such an appointed time
A climate of change
I will recognise my dearest
With opened eyes
Like the dawn of sunrise
I will be drawn to thee
Of natural beauty
He will spiritually advise
To have found the one
In accordance with your blueprint
Of events orchestrated
Of joyfulness elated
How precious is thee!
Seemingly hidden from view
With devotion to development
That our paths would cross
To begin our journey
In one accord
Of such blessings to afford
To one day so stand before
Our maker
Declarations of love and commitment to thee
Of such a blessed vision
One day realised
For until such a time
Let me wait upon the Lord
To seek first his righteousness
Before our holy covenant
I shall wait on thee

Pearl: As events unfold
Let all that you touch upon turn into gold
With wonders of mystery
Bold miraculous signs
Nature’s seasons ever changing
Truly divine
With no division of time
Of cares undivided
Due attention to you
Reveal to me your truths
As I soulfully meditate upon your daily word
Lest I depart from righteous ways
Lead me all of my days
May I cling to you
Love’s loyal devotion
Blissfully lost in your word
You guide me as light
By day and by night
Enlightened watchtower of constancy
Exalt you in your sanctuary
For you have created a work in me
For your word shall not return to you void
In you I shall prosper
Accomplish I will
Of promises spoken
Shall come to pass
Let your divine order take precedence
Let my cup runneth over
Bring wholesomeness
Your blessed investment concerning me
Left not alone
You called me as your own
Selectively sought and set apart
To kneel before you with humility
Your goodness washing over me
How much greater can this be?

Aaran: A creator above all
You catch me when I fall
Of whom could match the wondrous treasure I have found in you
The sacred gift of your beloved son
For my salvation
With victory already won
In fellowship with you
So to feast upon the bread of heaven
My daily fill
You are my strength and you are my shield
A fortified fortress that stands on high
There is none like you
No tower could be built, that could surpass you
Of whom could reach you with earthly hands
Or overrule your divine plans
To fathom the works of your mighty hands
Truly appointed before my formation
You laid the foundations
Of which to create
Blessedly ordained
For your holy purpose
Qualified
I will embrace
Thou art is divine......

To read the remainder of the poem please purchase on Amazon

Serenity fascinates
openness
wholesomeness
steadiness
brightness
glory.
Ev­erything we should be.
Everything we are.