Money can sweep up blood, sweat and tears easier then a mop and broom.

Wrapped in garments of yesterday
in thoughts that have festered away

****** into another year. Another decay
There was one who proposed to save.

In his honor, we must continue
Continue to pave the way

Into a new revolution, into a new way to save
what our founding fathers tried to create

The new constitution
The next institution is up to us to pave.

Disheveled and mutated. Ugly shell of what it used to be. Our government curated by the CEO Neo-Con warheads with nuclear weapon arms and drone strikes aimed at every other countries heart. Hawks of the most grotesque nature. Warhawks with bombs of freedom and democracy. The right to social justice and free choice are properties of the US. Yet those same words "Property of the US" line those missles, the only freedom they ring is freedom from this world. Free to dive into the afterlife.

Staunch support to policies of corrpution. Reeking of ****** and money. Dressed in red and green, piles of each, blood and money line their legacies. Facades played out in media like a family soap opera. Facsist facades play out in legislature, tyranny inducing consequences. Justice not served as they rally around the mottos of "Just us". As in just us rich and powerful get to pass laws. Just us white and privileged get walk away from cops without a 12 Guage bullet in the brain. As in just us media pundits know about politics.  In jusice they have no belief. Only selfish belief of "just us".

Oligarchic and xenophobic. Slandering the people's knowledge like we don't feel the ***** hand of power encasing us in its ****** grips. Convincing out of fear we are all each other's worst enemies due to color religion or Politcal theory. Propaganda created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us in our own good will.

The ***** roots of our skyscrapers poison the soul because what they rake in at the top is dollars made from death and destruction. From the creation of war refugees and third world farmer suicides they install suede in the penthouse. The money has created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us.

Reminisced in syrupy spirits
Oak-aged in malt, turned viscous and slow
Like the neurons that are supposed to send happiness shooting through my brain.
Slow.. slow.. but oh so steady. Like watching a grandfather tick and on every tock the happiness fades away and age gathers with dust on old lineolium floors.

I'm a sucker for sleeping pills, herbal remedies (not real medicines though), malted barelys and strong hops. All things that make being a pile of concious earth easier to deal with. All things that take me one day closer to being a lump of unconcious earth, scored in a fire and reduced to ashes.

Sometimes the notion of godliness and of an everlasting holy Spirit floods over me and I'm transcended into the wind. Then reality. The one of many I'm stuck in, ***** me back in like a black hole. A black hole, void of feeling plagued with death, politics, corruption, greed, war, poverty, racism, brutality. A reality where my fingers type on a phone screen and where I actually think I say things and where I actually think I make love only to realize none of its real. I'm not godly nor transcended. I'm a useless lump of earth bound to descend into unconcious sleep forever.

Wrapped in the silk you spin with your energy
Your eyes, like beacon lights, follow me
With you, I can take on the world confidently

Like a rhythm and melody, you are in my veins
Your body celestial; same as the sun and moon  
Too bright to look in your eyes
Voice soothing, I drift and swoon

Atoms moving, you're collected from all points of time
Pearlescent  magic looms around your aura, you shine
You're flora, smell of oils. Cedar and Pine
You're fauna, ruler of kingdoms, theirs and mine

I could swim in your oceanic eyes;
But when you give me that look
You lay dynamite on my iron skin
And you open me like a wound:

Spirit of fire that burns
Like a blade of sunlight
I sacrifice myself as I die
Into you, you ancient name of fire;

And your temper between the jaws
In the abstract geometry you propose
Lays me in an impassive torture
And you load ghosts of yesterday
Into Tomorrowland,
My cry and the cries of the torturer.

Be it the first dawn,
The last dawn,
We are bigger than the night
But the dream of us fits on the bed,
The bed of rain,
The bed of storms,
The liquidity of our bodies
As the moon wakes and asks
For our spirituality,
Souls entwined, we tear the night apart;

But we aren't always in the mood
At the same time,
Vehement bodies on invisible clocks
We can't see ticking,
You speak in Winter,
I speak in Summer;
Our words vanish like
Syllables of vertigo;
We are lost between the argument.

For all the good and the bad
I would make love with you
At the precipice,
Hanging at the cliff;
To fall in love or fall to our death,
Each is a timeless matter
And through it all I
Know that I am alive between
The polar shifts.

My parents let me run around
Trashing everything around me

Now I run around my mind
Thrashing at every thought of mine