half a cup of
a two toned muse
yeilds a quarter of
a sultry pair of cat eyes
& a tragic obsession
with princess serenity
stirred in with a dash of inconsistencies
and every teenage boys dream
under the heat of a mistress gaze
correcting grammar and errors
mixed in with your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
of féline decor
with shoes to complement
toss in a diamond ring
throughly wrapped around
your annulus finger &
indulge it with
strange behavior then
top it off with a silky whip
to accommodate
the quenching fluid of
a ******* *****

The eyes that could change the world.
If only they could speak.
For they would speak of the woes and trageties
of what lies behind them.
They emit light to show content.
But the light is produced by fire.
It burns, damages, scorns.
Yet yeilds light to see the color.
The beautiful color of his stained-glass eyes.
-n.s.

A thousand dreams woven
beneath the feet of hard working
                                         reflections.
But nothing ventured forth,
       like a corpse of bricked virtues
the land didn't give birth to life.

Only bricks of contemplation were
        built, and they were vacant
of any substance. For what is built
     had nothing to fill it only ideals.

For earth that shelter one,
       will endeavour to show no yield.
And only vacant ideals stand where
                   crops have faulted on brick..

Sunrise.
Sunset.
Oh how I forget,
another passing day,
and how it brings me one more step closer to my inevitable grave.
What morbid thought is this?
That my life is made of memories.
And memories are things I forget.
Do I forget myself?
Ahhhh Somebody please help.
I forgot my life was still there.
I need to be more self-aware.
I cannot blink only stare.
For then I could spot it running up on me.
Yes if I could only see.
Oh Death please forget me.

What meaning is in this life.
If the tasks of history are only going to drift away in our minds.
Oh **** you the passing time.
Sand drops drip one by one,
into the hourglass of the setting sun.
It goes by so fast when you look, yet faster when you don’t.
What torture is this? What a burden to add to the list.
Well the meaning of life is this:


A Painter paints a fence.
Yet with each passing day the Painter memories of the fence fade away.
Yet the paint remains. His actions stay the same!


A Farmer farms a field what a ferocious crop he yeilds.
Yet the crop he remembers no more.  
What a sorrowful tale of yore.
But wait theirs more...
The grass grows...
The corn crows!
The plants dance!!!
All because of the Farmers ***.
The crop grows up to the elbows!
All because of the actions of this average joe. 


So in the end remember please.
What your life means to the rest of we. 

A life is a seed.
A legacy.
When your gone its a song that can still grow. 

So fill your seed with love...
..sit back....
....and in death watch the show.

half a cup of
perfectly sculpted hair
yeilds a quarter
of a suburban style
& a tragic obsession
with the american flag
stirred in with a dash of
unquestionably good shoes-
a hint of stripes
adorned with a
a scruffy flannel armor-
blended of color palettes
mixed in with
your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
ankle boots with
banded legwarmers to match.
toss in a pair of leggings
a couple of two cent beanies
and plaid button downs
thoroughly wrapped around
your nether bottom &
a fanciful coffee
in hand prettified
with a binding bracelet
telling me
to creatively and
elusively
*******

here sit i
a skalded-babe
at a prison-box of
metal and wood and plaster.

chained for the span
of the elf's glory passing,
i shuffle leaves of wood
from in to out.
i move the hamsterwheel forward inch by inch,
or i runabout in a
runic-neon-field,
with my cheesy,
tailess-rodent, biting
and chewing away,
for the need of budget burning yeilds.

if lucky some snail mail
may come to relieve
the electronic humdrum.
if not,... i suppose,
i can knock on the world wide, spiders-door, enter
the ether-frame...
and see the cat, playing
piano, badly in fortissimo.
or be a mouse-jockey
in the web-led rodeo

then when the elf's are done

home to hearth,
i will run,in the rover of the land.
to sit by whale road on
golden sand.

and go make fodder for
the artisan-sawdust-man and the child.
for us to eat with carrot-comb and steak-stabber
before sitting down
replete,
for a night in with the
zombie-creator.

I the poppy
Grow in the field
I **** of profit
By law
A good harvest yeilds
So much for so many
I will take you to the wall
Ride the dragon
Once is for kicks
Can't do any harm
Buy me,sell you,live it up
Oh, now you stick needles in your arm
Reasons, needles
In a life that burns
Conscience  will not fit
Play hound my friend
When backs are turned
and feed the need with it
The evil without
Is now the evil within
This has always been the plan
I will never let go
Though you rage
And you shout
You never were much of a man.                  Hy

Sitting in a large hotel room
Thinking of the competition coming soon
One person in my left has a binder out
The kids across the hall are trying not to shout
Fixing up the gadgets at the last minute
While some play board games in the mindset to win it
It's 11:30 at night, I'm eating cold Chinese
Win or lose, fail or fly, I do as I please
We all cheer when the fourth comes back with ice
This moment is my paradise

Sitting on a mountain the temperature of snow
I eye the massive valley below
The farms and forests make a patchwork quilt
The streets and towns are embroidery of silk
The sun rises, setting the treetops on fire
My campmates wake up slow with some ire
Out here, I'm awed by mother earth's ways
As my friends and I decide how to navigate our days
I don hiking clothes under the day's new light
This moment is my paradise

Summer in full swing, the crickets cry
As twilight yeilds stars in the sky
We wander the camp, the ocean roars in the distance
Masters of our fate, we don't need assistance
Whether at the beachfront, ziplining, or boardwalks
We run like a fox pack, not caring who gawks
As we think of the adventures of the world ahead
There's nowhere I'd like to be instead
As our flip flops crack on the ground the camp comprised
This right here is my paradise

We're running around another big city
So much to see, and I have my group with me
We just got out of our musical clinic
Now it's time to explore the town, see the magic in it
We'll meet up at five, for a dinner at seven
We'll go on a boat and get back at eleven
Right here, right now, we can make our own way
Free from routine, we get to have a say
We're a bit confused, a little underdressed
We still need chaperones, and we're way underslept
Even with all of that, this will more than suffice
This right here is my paradise

Waves.
Swirling pools of salted tomorrow
Lapping away moonlit sand.
Scorched wood burned new acquaintances
As carmelled smoke rose to the heavens.
Fabric embraces heated with warmth of
Liquid confidence, the night shone with rings .

Dunes.
Massive excitement tumbled across layers of
Memories now particles against the sun.
Laughter abundant outstretched to heights
With stomachs knotted flown like birds.

October yeilds rays of joy
New love cascading thoughts
Surprises await dawn for the future.

You conduct, around a God, not too know if real!

So what in life, is too his appeal taking all your desires and reels.

Not me I live, with only one thang creating betterment of all.

So fade, from his shades and resume with fake sins.

Creators of God, begone from my reality I will decode your reasons.

So as too the seasons "rain storm, and "hail" making preposition of a once blue sky now pale.

I walk among other life and feel at one.

Autmum, colors and crisp green grass under a sky gray.

Yeilds of grand crops for a rich soil is prized at a hoes first touch.

Too a God, of matter he formed are they really creation, for a magical being where's the wand.

A cave left with out his placement "where did he go" as head's begin to scratches.

A holy, wind blew blowing dust in all directions who seek's me of none death.

The Cave, was dry now as they begin speak of whom the is of.

I creation of toy's will sport you in results.

Successful, my deduction is you all move, with flaws and commit pointless moves.

All the matter of spaces are mine.

So think of any format, or conduction even a program, for the consideration of all is all.

Speeds of time surround
          Me modestly
In times of wonder
     Speaking to my soul
In second person
          Stroking my passions
Seductively with an
     Admirable quality
Hanging on my every move
           With lying eyes
Leading me blindly into places
          The ears can't hear
But the eyes can touch
      Following a red brick road
Passing by forests of great
           Magic amongst wise tree's
Telling tales of a tin man having
       No heart and a scarecrow
            Having no brain
Such great wonders the imagination
        Yeilds within the believers
            Step into my world, the ride
Of your life shall begin

Your a condense, versions of all thang's of being.

Life never yeilds a halt for life is a magnificent processes.

Each moment brings all conponets to be expected.

When you turn on your TV, you expect the pixels to become seen.

As life, you live you expect, all to be changable each instance, better than earlier "sections for time" is a cover a lid to all outcomes.

So does death happen to a body of soul.

No your expextions of death are farbractions.

"You experience life, as you would want Dream ******" recite this as true.

☆ Light of dust floating into place of our retinas as seen

During a saunter in the abnormaly warm fall air

And amidst the trees that faintly glow from the residual summer's heat

She and I talk and laugh without a care

And listen to the crackling of the leaves beneath our feet

The setting sun sets her hair alight in autumn fire

And I bask within the warmth of its auburn flames

Its heat lifts our souls ever higher

As we each leave behind our names

I could dance forever amongst these swirling embers

Becoming one with a mid autumn’s breeze

My eyes widen as she leans in and whispers the words of a song that only she remembers...

Moonlight fills the room around me like a flurry of white ash

Burning my eyes with each flicker of the undulating curtain

Waves of frigid air wash over me and the empty bed beside me

A discordant silence fills my ears

Which yeilds only to the light thud of sweat on my sheets and my heavy breath

I step onto the frozen floor and make my way to the open window

I shut it, momentarily shunning the oppressive cold

Another breeze touches my back

Carrying with it wordless whispers of the past

I pass the threshold into the endless void

The floor creaks loudly with each step towards the second window

As I am about to reach it, I see a light in the corner of my eye

A pale blue spark glints off of the unsightly scar on the mantle

I grab the urn and cradle it in my arms and fall to the ground

A cry of anguish fills the empty house

It fills me too

For hours I lie on the dark wooden floor

Watching the sky melt in the approaching dawn

Finally, it catches fire and the world bursts to life

I rise and step out onto the balcony

Then turn around to look at my house one last time

And we fall backwards into the embrace of the morning air

Together...

Time slows down as I descend

She cradles me as I softly drift towards the ground

I cannot help but remember the days we would spend

Swept away by every melodious autumn sound

My vision fades like a dying ember

Yet all the while, I gaze into her amber eyes agleam

Singing the words of a song that we both remember

As we sink into a pleasant summer’s dream

The clock-compass offering of King David to Sholmó myrrh-timely is golden as a frankly incense.

I'll open my mouth one last time
In deep sayings
of the "hidden manna",

I'll speak in
Incantations (sacred sayings)
as one Oriented
In Oath & spells
from roots & truth,
I'll reveal it all in sequence.

Sons of the soil;
the ****** shall give birth to a child,
mother nature is our ******.

These are the 3 form of Gods will:
The good, permissive & perfect.
(the tree of good  principles
& the only evil in it is disobedience,
The tree of perfect & true standard balance).

For the image of God is his "Character behaviour = True Morality"
&
the likeness of the Lord is his "perfect calculation = Literacy "
So understand when I say
I & the Father are one,

For when the Father said
"two shall become one" (Absolutely absorbed)
this is what he truly mean

You must be in a deep sleep
having your ribs punctured out
by observing thoroughly in your mind
a woman's Morality & Literacy
If she's truly matured.

For when God formed a woman
all he made is a literate who is morally matured free from distortion & contamination,
so anything less than this is
"woe unto man".

Remember it was never said he who marries finds a good thing,
But he who "discovers true marraige materials"  (a morally matured literate woman) finds a helper & obtain favour from principles & laws.

Therefore the flesh of a man's flesh
is a woman of the same soul attraction (so carefully check if your features truly Jibe).

  The bones of a man's bones
is a woman of the same conscious interest (so carefully cross-check if same things excite you both).

& To be taken out of man
is to share the same intention (observe carefully if you both share same view & Ideas of things).

Also recognise to be a "Man"
is to be fully matured;
Attaining your daily growth
of literacy & morality
until you achieve the balance
of your true standard of living (Eden),
Flowing in your perfect atmosphere
of stability,
growing in your true
level of quality development
for this is the promised land.

Marriage is the absorption in one anothers personality,
It is absolutely sacred
& not to be abnormally used
even for once.

So forget about pleasure
Seek for balance!
Let your beauty
comes from inward attributes
then you'll find comfort in everything you do,
For this is the true joy of living
& Man's complete duty.

I speak as the Son of Man
& Son of God

And people often say
" with God all things are possible",
but with God stupid things are not possible (imbalance & err),
For God himself is balanced by his literacy
& morality is his standard
he is not an author of confusion.

Truly everyone choosed their choice course
ahead of existence,
God never lay a curse (burden) on anyone
even the stars bears Him withness
that he has measured clear balance &
clean standard daily for everyone.

For when ever men are gathered in the gates of Christ (wisdom)
Him is presence and they are caught up in the air.

When ever men tarry in their inner room to be endue with literacy & morality they get caught up on high
to Him's presence at attain peace.

For the Creator so Love everything he has made that he finalize his government by judging the illitracy that causes every error & the Immorality that leads to every imbalance against the universe,

This is the ritual he made
sending his only begotten who fully acknowledged the perfect balance that Literacy brings & the true standard that morality yeilds.

He did this ritual not to measure sins punishment or condemn the universe
but to justify his Principles & Laws as smooth & flawless
& to exposes completely the foolishness & wickedness of sin
"that he himself has not added a grain of burden to the sons of men but they as sheep has often gone astray alone in search for many things".

Therefore know this
for the streets do not love you
But the universe do,
Ignore the outward noises
& Listen to what nature is always telling you.

Then you'll avoid being the poor fool
Who tries to gain the whole world
But never carters for his soul true needs.

Come now I'll show you how Inspiration formed Ideas;

The Conscious keeps his "Universe" (space) safe,
The Spiritual do not need approval of
"Chance"  (connection),
The Mystic explores beyond "Age" (experience),
The Supernatural is not bound by "Season" (luck),
The Sacred one is not hindered by "Distance" (location),
Glory rules over "Time" (appointment),
Grace rule over  "days" (growth),
Holiness is the highest "Class" (qualifications).

To be Sacred is to be always clear in reasoning & clean in Judgement,
To be Holy Obatàlà is to be righteous in thoughts & upright in conscience,
To be full of Grace is to become flawless
& smooth in outward & inward expression,
To be full of Glory is have perfect emotion
& Truthful spirit.

To possess Wisdom is to become a mystic who attain sacredness for the sake of balance,
To get understanding is to attain spirituality & all it's glory at all cost for the sake of true comfort,
To attain peace is to become first & foremost holy then you'll attract true supernatural beauty,
To love, one must be conscious & full of grace then he'll possess the eternal joy.

For the shrine is made for cleansing only & nothing more,
Do not seek for anything else in the temple aside your daily bread,
Be faithful with the garden it's herbs, vegetables, fruit & even flowers & trees will keep you in perfect health even the shade is beautiful at sunrise & comforting at dusk,
The only festival accepted in heaven is one which ceremony promotes literacy & morality for every other is futile.

Do not be mislead:
The one who can forgive can also punish think of how in the beginning he covered the world in thick darkness and made it formless again,

The one who bless also curse remember who formed the world from waters upon waters & restricted the waters this is how far you can go,

The one who approves also rebukes remember who gathered the wind in his palm & authored spiritual realm,

The one who heals also kills think of how he wrapped up the universe as a cloud in his cloak.
Remember "oh" remember.


Consider this before you become foolish & say there is no Lord, God, Father & King
& sin against our forefather Creator
who rule over us all.
For the son of man & son of God is only a product of their perfect Literacy & true morality & nothing else added..

I speak as the gift of Sheba and the perfume oil of Mary at my feet
Iyesus.

Alleviate my heavy heart
Release the demons
that I wish would soon depart

Turn the air pure in thought
What I've found was not that what I sought

What I gathered were the weeds and thorns
and the lightning from thunderstorms

Now my bones ache of sin
These guilty feelings run deep within

Once I reached the mountain's top
I realized there was no place to go but to drop

The devouring grave with headstone made
has me questioning if I am saved

So I raise my fist in a defiant stance
Such foolish arrogance
yeilds an ungodly glance

I am a rich man in beggars clothes
To be stripped naked so my sins will be exposed

Fot what little I have gained . . . will be taken and given to the righteous to claim