You were there, but there you weren’t,
There in the mess of my mind.
My dreams look sweet, but that’s simply deceit;
Dreams are where terrors hide.
I saw you once. No, twice! No, thrice!
But you vanished into the unknown.
Play nice with my demons, but please don’t feed them.
Oh my, how we’ve grown!
We’ve grown together and grown apart;
You had my all, then lost my heart.
It’s okay! It’s all fine! Just like it was that one night.
Now my head is spinning and my stomach’s in a knot;
the truth it makes me sick, but I’ll smile through the pain.
Have a wonderful life my dear. Think of me from time to time.
Take life like a shot of tequila: with some salt and a lime!

She comes to mind frequently,
and normally runs roughshod over me
I recognized, thanks to a friend,
that these thoughts are not helpful or productive
I can go down that route a thousand times,
and I have,
but it doesn't matter how much time I spend;
it will always be a dead end

I don't yet know what to think instead,
so now when she comes to mind,
I see what's happening,
I sit in a state of moderate confusion,
knowing I don't want to go there,
but not sure what else to do
I suppose there's still plenty of healing ahead,
but here's to another step

I pick this Earthly slide into Summertime, this season to begin, propels forward in all sense of Time, history retrograde, etched in Stone for Centuries, Coded in DNA, programed Circadian bodies, impressions applied geometric thickly glazed coat, generously slathered across my Retinal Screen.

Setup complete for me, attuned to Solar frequencies, aligned to cohesive Cosmic driving motion spiraling Syncopation with all partaking rotational bodies, all timers set to synchronous, all ties to everything celebrating their teamwork well done.

Activity accelerates, as does the heavy heat, both inseparable, together climbing ****** into sunburnt sweat, steaming, sizzling Sunday barbecue to reflect the Flesh boiling together in sympathetic Celebration of our Seasoned Sun.

Longer days accommodate for memories and fun, commemorate the Force of Season, into swing, will soon be swung, centripetal to glaze a different gaze lathered across my retinal screen, reverberate through Atmosphere, redistribute composition, smooth bottlenecking, flowing out yet emptying to take fill of what flows in.

No change of Season, nor change of Heart, no redirection ever knows emptiness, no moment leaves a Void unfulfilled.

No moment when the smooth Transition stutters to a Stop. The sync is in the constant movement bringing balance in equilibrium by shifting tides, Spinning Stars locking in, programmed by Primal Cause, the Synchronicity in Everything, so Summertime comes, this Time in which we rejoice, knowing it's all been planned, beautifully executed by mechanics of Nature.

Trust in understanding a Power much Greater is in Control, we are here simply for the Experience.

...Not to much more, just in attending to the Transitions of Ourselves.

By: Cedric McClester

They’re the party of wealth
Unconcerned with the health
Of the economy
Relative to you and me
The situation’s getting frantic
Still they’re up to their old antics
Of symbolism ‘n semantics
Symbolism ‘n semantics

The problem is gigantic
In fact it’s transatlantic
His approach is sycophantic
But they are quite pedantic
Is he being too romantic
As they come with their semantics
Their symbolism ‘n semantics
Symbolism ‘n semantics

They’ve tried to pass a bill
Over there up on the hill
But despite the public will
They keep arguing it still
They’re complaining ‘bout the pork
But haven’t put down their fork
So we’ll have to wait
But the hour’s getting late

The problem is gigantic
In fact it’s transatlantic
His approach is sycophantic
But they are quite pedantic
Is he being too romantic
As they come with their semantics
Their symbolism ‘n semantics
Symbolism ‘n semantics

It seems they have a crush
On a pill popper named Rush
Who someone should tell hush
And stop talking so **** much
By hoping that he fails
While we lay on the rails
He’s blowin wind up their sails
So how did he avoid our jails

The problem is gigantic
In fact it’s transatlantic
His approach is sycophantic
But they are quite pedantic
Is he being too romantic
As they come with their semantics
Their symbolism ‘n semantics
Symbolism ‘n semantics

They voted millions down the drain
In a war that was insane
But now hear them complain
Instead of trying to ease our pain
Their politics remains the same
But we made our selection
Where were they the last election
Cos it changed the whole complexion
With a call for redirection

The problem is gigantic
In fact it’s transatlantic
His approach is sycophantic
But they are quite pedantic
Is he being too romantic
As they come with their semantics
Their symbolism ‘n semantics
Symbolism ‘n semantics


(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

I see you put a ring on her finger, so you made her your wife
So she's the one you want with the rest of your life.
And that's alright baby.
You chose the better woman for you
But does better make it right baby?
I can't tell you about her heart because I've never been in it.
But I can tell you about the beat of your heart when you hit it.
And when our eyes unite
The fires of desire enlight the flames to ignite
Damsel in distress
You used to be my shining knight
Despite the shadows lingering over the battlefield indicating this might be too dull for you to fight.
So now we just avoid eye contact outright.
But baby you can't tell me that her ***** is this tight.
She's got a maze of expiration dates between her thighs, and I wasn't lying when I told you that I'd never let you out of sight, and I won't.
But don't look me in the eyes and say you love me if you don't.
It's okay baby.
If you need to get away I got a place for you to stay baby.
Foreplay in the doorway,
I got a couple roles for you to portray
While she's upstairs sleeping
Say,
Remember those days baby?
You'll always have a special place in my heart because you've always had a special place in that dark pink treasure chest.
I gave you the keys so you could come and go as you please but it seems we left a few things unaddressed.
Reassess:
It's mine too.
Sharing under the protection of my bed sheets,
The complexion of your *******;
The collection of our affection,
There has been redirection to our connection.
There is no love in making love if we're using *** to untie knots.
Tell me what's the point of holding on to something that is not.
But I'll hold on to your memory.

I brim with compassion.

My strength comes from encountering fear
And gazing into the eyes
Of whatever form it takes.

It lies in my acceptance
Of vulnerability as great as the trees
Whose aged, gentle leaves
Shade my fragile skin
And restore me as I slumber.

This confidence is a new development,
And I do not always bear it with grace;
But I trust in my abilities
And love for living,
(A rare thing! A new thing! A grand thing!),
Which I defend fiercely
And with great care.

Shame upon whomever seeks to shatter
The tranquility of another!
May the yellow eye of terror
Fixate on them
And inspire redirection.

I'm spinning and I may be bleeding

Disconnected from my nerves

My arteries line up for a cleaning

A redirection of their purpose served



It's winter in my heart

And though we're cold states far apart

I'll be your port in the storm

If after I save you; you carry me home



My neck is twisting with the walls

That must be closing in

They must be closing in cause I cannot grow tall

And I cannot divide from you



It's winter in my heart

And though we're cold states far apart

I'll be your storm in the port

If after I hurt you; you carry me home.



The windows stark above my head

They reach down with their silver threads

And twist round my neck sickly bright

A beacon in the darkest night



It's winter in my port

And though we're cold states far apart

You'll be my storm in  heart

If after you hurt me we're finally home

The wrong eyes
Ignited
Butterflies.

A stolen caress
Disguised,
Denied.

Self- destroying words
Thought; scrawling,
Doubling, dying.

A love poem
Pens itself,
Redirection in desperation.

Because--

The wrong eyes
Ignited
Butterflies
Last night.

In the dark, yet the glare burns my eyes.
Silence, yet the screaming won't quiet.
My body is still, yet writhing in anguish.

Darkness, silence, stillness... This is the battle.
The old familiar lullaby of numb.
A beckoning finger, seducing me to depths of pitch black on a starless night.
I could sleep if the air wasn't stale.

I've been abandoned,  yet I refuse to be the abandoner.
I cannot give that pain away. It is mine to own.
I am surrounded by love, yet alone every direction I reach.

Abandoned,  pain... refuse, love, alone... Fight.
I cannot be selfish. Redirection is the only option.
I will not let go. Hold the pain close, never kiss the love with its sting.

Fight. With what weaponry? Armed with pain. Reaching, grasping for hope.
Protect the love. Do not let it fall to my fate.
Rebuild. Pain is my weapon. I could cause such harm,  shove them all away.
If only I could reach, yet if I did, I'd take the pain from them, protect them,
And sacrifice myself to no end, but an endless cycle.

Fight, protect, rebuild... armed with who I am.
Gather the pieces.  Put them together. Never in original form.
New stones, fresh mortar muddied with tears.  Reach, to find each stone.
Drag it into place, carefully stacked,  meticulous placement, calculated.
Construct not to protect me, not to hide, but to keep the love out of harms way.
Without love I am nothing.
Deny, refuse nothing.
Arms open, eyes wide.
Fight, for everything.

Artificial stimulation zapping all imagination
Any creation or sensation lost in a noise of falsification
Cry to the nation so the population will rejoice with elation
That it is time to remove the isolation caused by the simulation
Simulation of free vocal amplification
Illusion and contagion of the authority’s rules and regulation
Solidification of these false ideals and therefore separation
From should be and what is- it’s horrification
The consumer’s attention faces new redirection
Guided meticulously by the producer’s invention
So our ‘choices’ aren’t choices but some chaos prevention
An anarchy intervention
An eluded operation executed by the organizations
A silent one sided war already won by associations, corporations and cooperations'
Verifications of strict policies and legislation
Followed of course by a strong litigation
What a celebration!
For select thoughts and their determination
Then the glorification
Of these upper class suits with some reputation
The voice of the people silenced with their unification
Stifling imagination
Essentially middle and lower robbed of vocalization
De-individualization, crumble fortication
Fine, its come down to this expectation
Of this twisted experimentation of freedom and selection
We’ll Bind together to form a protection of creativity, originality and our own perfection
So let us make this correction:
The one sided war is short lived and our individual minds will prevail, there is no question
For the minority majority will make a distinction
Between the choices given to us and our choices made with intention