I promise you that we will make love
On a bed full of philosophy books
So that the depth of our hunger
Matches the depth of our thinking

Every press of my nail upon your flesh
Will have you question your existence
You'll feel more alive with every thought
Then you will understand Rene Descartes

Our smoldering bodies radiating pleasure
Will have you disregard the material world
This passion will posses the highest reality
Then you'll understand Plato's forms

Amidst my guidance toward your ******
You will hold values and aspirations close
And form your most perfect self with me
Then you'll understand Friedrich Nietzsche

On this bed full of marvelous thoughts
We will lay tangled exhausted overjoyed
For our love our lust and our everything
Will have the immensity of philosophy itself

sit down; Mexican standoff
side saddle head cocked
readily shot-stare asunder
to paper/pen & the
grinning wince.

employment; where are you
now? You, in current state
gaseous coagulation, you
neither “in the mix” or
ahead.

bullet point; list thoughts
& aspirations, where you
thought you ought to
wish you were here!ing
and not.

T&C; going forward agree
to meet the anticipated
expectations as if you
wore that crown to say
"you own you".

handshake; the formality
contracts its bindings,
and the paper witness
writ as statement that
we will

                 do this again sometime.

Two Blue Beams
rise in the twilight
from dark recesses
of a wounded city

astral projections
paint night clouds
in looming hues
of temporal intent

declarative beams
affirm a bold portent
of an insistent will
and timeless aspirations

one thrusting light
projects wanton determination
bequeathed from unhealed wounds
of a lacerated city

the other casts fervent hope
onto the vast celestial sea
boldly etching upon the heavens
an earnest nations highest ideals

the pillars of light
reveal the dual nature
fixing our place
in a turbulent universe

the brighter light
affirms the beneficence
of liberty's eternal grace
so divinely conferred

received by a higher self
accepted with gratitude
the gracious anointing
of freedoms rich abundance

ride this beam with angry cries
conjure ghosts from a dead past
channel a full measure of resent
its power of restoration is quelled

stirred from nagging agonies
nursed with righteous indignation
untreated wounds fester
the weak blue spire cannot heal

a bleak azure apparition
screams for selfish retribution
heed this dire admonition
a promised fury of
full demonic dimension

the rankled city
yearns to come together
united in communion
around these lights

drawn to the blue flames
like swirling moths
unconscious of what
compels shock and awe

earnest yearnings
flutter to exhaustion
struggle toward the light
aspiring to heal in the inviting glow

transcending the fissures
of our fractured nation
the waning resolve
of a national will

a restless Zeitgeist
cannot be repressed
nor will it relinquish
its will to manifest

a city's fondest hopes
entombed in collective memory
is foretold again
around these bold lights

entranced by the light
a solemn urban campfire
transfixed and sealed
we speak our hearts

holding hands
gnashing teeth
we bite into
our bent knees
tucked up
to sullen chests
heavy hearts
bear pains of loss
dreary tears wash
ash stained cloths
crumpled photos
dear bereavements
of faded memories
and expired hope

resolve is renewed
in bursts of pride
incendiary nationalism
suppress dissent
pummel thoughts
of perceived sedition
pump iron fists as
zealous sledgehammers
forged with conviction
in kilns of
righteous indignation
seething with infected
emotional hangovers
from prurient
tribal diatribes

these sweet sentiments
swing between the polls
of the vast pendulum's arc
along a narrow celestial scale

too and fro
angst and expectation
ebbs and flows
in this astral assignation

the heavenly helix
a set of blue axles
a modern vision
of Ezekiel's Wheel

the rung-less vertices
of our Jacob's Ladder
invites all citizens
to climb again

ascend this pathway
in the company of angels
arrive transfigured
renewed again

build new cities
transcendent destinations
new Edens await
pioneers to explore

fearless pilgrims
sojourn onward
moving to secure
liberty for all

conscious stewards
of the blessed good earth
celebrate rich diversity
of all the beloved

descending back
to an expired past
is a ridged stasis
anchored in Hell

witness flitting
nostalgic phantoms
pathetic pantomimes
of histrionic fictions

the downward path
of the lesser light
tethers us to the place
we cannot leave

The upward light
abhors a hells decent
resolved to vacate
acrimony and hate

the dancing helix opens
a blue portal to heaven
don saintly garb
wing upward in light

transcendence calls us
to traverse with angels
touch the luminescent hem
of God's divine robe

Selah

Music Selection:
Aaron Copland: Appalachian Spring , Simple Gifts

NYC
9/11/10
jbm

(***** I'm dreaming2),..***** I'm believing,.. I'm chasing hope & faith mane..I'm chasing my dreams, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..***** I'm believing,***** I'm dreaming (Yeah2)..(***** I'm dreaming2)
Dreaming..***** I'm believing, ***** I'm dreaming.. Dreaming..I'm (having hope & faith2)..***** I'm believing.., (I'm having hope & faith2)..***** I'm dreaming, ***** I'm believing, (I'm having hope & faith2)..Yeah..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing, Im (dreaming2)..I'm chasing hope mane,..(I'm chasing my goals & aspirations2)//***** I'm dreaming, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..Aye..(I'm dreaming3)..dreaming, ***** I'm believing , I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..(***** I'm dreaming, my ***** I'm believing2)..(I'm chasing hope & faith 2)..mane,

I ain't chasing after fame, I ain't chasing none of these hos either,..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing,..I'm dreaming, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..*****, I'm believing, ***** I'm dreaming, ***** (I'm believing2)..(Im dreaming3)..dreaming..,aye..I'm chasing, (my goals & aspirations3)..
Goals & Aspirations.. Aye

That's what I'm chasing after like a hungry cheetah, I never been a cheater, ***** Imma believer, a true believer, a King Yeah..Aye, I'm chasing my goals & aspirations, &( I'm speeding2) like,**** the laws I'm going past the speed limit, **** a stop sign, no braking, I'm in drive *****, Its so hard being patient, but I'm tryna be Aye, no time waiting  , no time waisting, none of my days  being wasted..Im so wavey..Aye, Yeah I'm getting so faded, so wasted, Lord please forgive me even , tho I smoke alot of **** on a regular basis, that's (my medication2)..& I need it, it helps me from going (crazy2)..,I ain't never had **** partner, I come from nothing, I ain't had alot of money at a point of time in my life , I was so broke my *****, all I ever had was my goals , dreams, & aspirations, Yeah I was dreaming, & believing, I was chasing after hope & faith.., not after no females mane,Aye..
Nobody can't tell me nothing paparazzi better stay away from my face, aye I ain't on that Kanye West **** I ain't selling my soul for a happy meal *****, In happy all ready, God owns me, So I'm investing in my own worth homie, Yeah..I'm building my on corporation..Aye man..

(***** I'm dreaming2),..***** I'm believing,.. I'm chasing hope & faith mane..I'm chasing my dreams, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..***** I'm believing,***** I'm dreaming (Yeah2)..(***** I'm dreaming2)
Dreaming..
I ain't chasing after fame, I ain't chasing none of these hos either,..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing,..I'm dreaming, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..*****
Uhh,Yeah

/This is (only for the Real3)..if you don't know well then now you know *****/3,..
Aye, if you don't know *****, then pull a chair up & listen, Turn this **** up & listen, Blaze one up, (& listen2), pay attention..This is (Only For The Real2)..Aye
I'm teaching ****** lessons like a teacher *****, I didn't have to go to college to teach *****, but that doesn't mean I can't teach you *****, I was blessed wit this gift from God, thank you so much Heavenly Father, thank you so much Jesus Christ, Ayo we all can learn something from each other, we all sisters & brothers word, Uhh..
Let's come together, let's stand up to this curropted government system, rise up & destroy them..Uhh, Aye I usta be all alone man, so lonely stuck in my room writing hits all day, I been a big factor my *****, man I always been the man, Yeah..Uhh, I ain't conceited either my *****, I'm just saying I'm confident,.. (Yeah *****2)..
I just been (chasing my dreams & aspirations2)..I write (masterpieces2) Pablo Picasso type of ****, if you don't know well now you know this is (Only For The Real2)..Aye,..

/Im chasing my goals & aspirations2..(my goals & aspirations2)/2

(Aye, we all on3..)..now..we all on..now
(Aye, we all on3..)..now..we all on..now

/Aye it doesn't matter what anybody gotta say about ya, forget a doubter let them hate man, if you dream it see it in yo mind, & believe it, then you can achieve it/2
**** right..my *****
if you dream it see it in yo mind, & believe it, then you can achieve it..for real dawg..Ayr


You can become anything that you want my ***** for real dawg, gotta push yo self, uplift yo self if nobody else will, chase after hope & faith, chase (your goals *2), chase (your dreams2) & your aspirations, don't ever stop *****, Cuhz, (anything you put your mind too you can achieve it,2) Yeah mane, you can..Uhh

/***** I'm dreaming, I'm chasing hope & faith, I'm chasing my goals & aspirations/3
(Goals & aspirations*3)..aye

i was born into a generation immune to tragedy,
conditioned, we have been made, to calamity.
hearts hardened by television images,
minds numb at the sight of pained visages.
i was born into a generation wrought with fear,
for the end of the world is coming near.
whether by anthropogenic atmospheric grumblings,
or symbols of american freedom crumbling,
the earth is no longer our home.
a place where mind, body, and spirit
are subject to torment,
and every child's aspirations must lie dormant.
the world, as i know it, is an unwelcoming place,
no matter what your sexuality, age, gender, or race.
our forefathers have pillaged our once overflowing pockets
to fulfill empty goals on lofty campaign dockets.
what is left is ours to fix, though not by choice,
and nobody knows if "they" hear our voice.
i was born into a generation less than "Great",
yet it is only we who can determine our fate.

The role of the artist,            of course,
     has always been that of image-maker;
Different times require different images;
Today when aspirations have been reduced
to a desperate attempt to escape from evil,
& times are out of joint,       our
obsessive, subterranean    & pictographic
images are the expression of the neurosis
which is our reality;   to my mind certain
                                   so-called abstraction is not abstraction at all;
                                   On the contrary, it is the realism of our time

1. To us art is an adventure
      into an unknown world,
       which can be explored
     only by those willing to
                 take the risks;
2. This world of imagination is fancy-free
     & violently opposed to common sense;
3.    It is our function as artists to
make the spectator see the world
our way, not his way;
4. We favor the simple expression
of the complex thought. We are for
the large shape because it has the
impact of the unequivocal. We wish
to reassert the picture plane. We are
  for flat forms because they destroy
illusion and reveal truth;    |
                                     5. It is a widely accepted notion among painters
                                     that it doesn't matter what one paints as long as
                                     it is well painted. Rothko said this is the essence
                                     of academicism;
6. There is no such thing as a
good painting about nothing.
7. We assert that the subject is crucial
& only that subject matter is valid
which is tragic and timeless.   That is
why we profess spiritual kinship with
primitive & archaic art

He would have been an artist
but that being was now lost
hidden beneath the folds of fleshy strata
hanging like a neurosis, soft as adipose
lost under his belly.

He may have been a father
but that too was lost under
the pendulous judgement of
his blunted dreaming state.

He could have been a sculptor
an artist as they would have said,
instead he now whittles archaic
spoons with which to sup from
his sad bucolic dreams.

In between aspirations, as a hobby,
he runs his fat fingers through women's
hair, a round eyed
would be Taoist, wending prayers
through lost valleys.

And for a living he pins tails
on donkeys calls himself an eastern
practitioner. A Zen mystic .
An acupuncturist.

Quintessence of beauty, you rule every heart,
Queen of my dream you are, my loving partner,
Your quixotic gestures create stunning energy,
When clouds are thundering to strike our love.

Redolent air surrounds you ecstatically,
That inebriate the soft heart of many lovers,
they go crazy, when your ravishing beauty,
Hurt their aspirations when dreaming.

Sweetheart, your sanctified love I always wish,
You are the sassiest, sexiest spice in my life,
You are sempiternal desire of the universe,
And have always been a shining sun of my life.

Tantalize me no more, for your tender touch,
I find your company, a talisman for my love,
Destiny sleeps in the shades of your curly hair,
When the night halts in the lap of nature.

Unique relationship and unique understanding,
Bring two souls close together for love making,
And to bring sensation in the every heart,
When flora enjoys rain dance in the valley.

Vibrant smile on your face, always very cute,
Dimples on your cheeks, sign of deep love,
Your emotions are so virtuous and vestal,
That stars are twinkling wishing the good luck.

Wondrous woman, crazy heart worships you,
Because you are so pretty, cute and sweet,
And your devotee wanders in search of you,
Chasing your shadow in the scorching son.


X-mas tree in my garden, so are you in my heart,
With decorations on Christmas, smiles as you,
My patience is curious to make love with you,
When cool breeze is blowing in winter nights.

The Yummiest person, you are in my life,
Yearning for your lascivious and lewd acts,
Aspire my ***** desires, to learn art of ******,
When Cupid, god of love, enjoys in the spring.

Zephyr is blowing, in search of his lost love,
My darling, my perpetual efforts shall never end,
And endless journey to hug you, shall continue,
Until the sun and the moon stop shining.

When I was nine
My mother asked, “What do you want to do when you’re older”
And I told her
Honestly
With my nine-year-old smile
As wide as an ocean
My nine-year-old heart
As deep as infinity
I told her, “mama, I wanna touch the stars, I wanna find pirate treasure, I wanna climb mountains and live in the treetops”
My mother,
She looked at my nine-year-old smile
She held my nine-year-old heart in her hands
and she whispered,
“Baby, how are you gonna do all that?”
I didn’t have an answer
You see,
At age nine,
I didn’t think about practicality
Or actuality
Or logicality
Or any big word with an -ality stuck to it
At age nine I had aspirations that I rode like angel wings
Dreams that would carry me to the stars I longed to hold
I was nine years old with a mind full of colors
And a mouth made to love
My heartbeat was the drum I marched to
The melody to my song
I told my mother once again “mama I wanna touch the stars”
Flashforward
I am a freshman in high school now
I stand before you,
Age 15
A year and a half away from driving
3 years from applying
4 years from finding what I’m gonna do with my life
Since then
My nine-year-old smile has dwindled
My nine-year-old heart has shriveled
These dreamers shoulders have hunched
Under the weight of textbooks and GPA's
The fingers that spewed color like a 64 pack of Crayola crayons
Aimlessly type out the final paragraph of an essay
The cavern in my chest, that was filled with infinite possibilities and wonders and questions that I longed to answer
Now sits
Empty
Instead of looking for mountains to climb
My aged nine-year-old mind
Searches for the college that will accept me
Not even the real me
Not the seeker of possibility
Not the tree climber
Not the wannabe fingerprint artist
They will take prim and proper not-nine-year-old me
the one who tells her mom she’s gonna major in finance but she hates math
The one who’ll have a steady 9-5 that’ll numb her skull and make her contemplate if death can come from boredom
A coffee tainted room of pencil skirts and high heels
Instead of her favorite blue jeans and Chuck Taylors
A nice job that’ll pay well but only for the price of her nine-year-old originality
But she only tells her mom that because it sounds like a real job
A not nine-year-old treehouse living
Cave exploring fantasy
I mean, I have to move on from that dream.
It's time to be practical
Actual
Logical
Now instead of making up new words
I learn definitions of the ones that already exist
Instead of painting with my own colors
I use the ones handed to me
Because its practical
Actual
Logical
Its how it should be.
I am no longer nine years old
Far from it at that
And yet,
I still long to touch the stars,
just a little less
I still want to search for treasure
But just as an afterthought
My eyes are still glowing with wonder
Just a little bit duller
Nine-year-old me isn’t dead
She just
grew up

The problem is I do like him.
I certainly hate him
But I also like him.
I like the way he capitalizes the beginnings of his sentences over text,  I like the cute little crinkles that appear in his forehead when he smiles
The coy way he responds to flirtation with something like "Oh really now?"
I like how he calls things "sweet", the way he says "aww" I even f!cking like his annoying as hell overuse of the phrase "haha" when he texts which ****** me off,
I like how he is the only teenaged boy I know who says something is "quite" fun and how he uses the word "lovely" to describe things because no one uses that word anymore and more people should.
I like how he has an immense love for Spiderman,
How he has all these aspirations of travelling all over in the future
I like how he wants to live in England one day, I like that he is into cooking and drinks coffee and hot chocolate and how his favorite book is "Looking for Alaska" and how he's read everyone of John Green's books and how he wants to be a writer one day.
I just remember the dumbest little things that I still like about him
For instance how he likes Neil Gaiman and loud screamy music even though I hate that stuff, how he is the only one in his fractured family who doesn't speak French but his older sister and mother do. He has a dog named Charlie and when he was a kid he always spelled "subtle" wrong. I just don't know *** is wrong with me I should have known better. I should hate him for half this stuff and all the rest of the reasons I have to loathe him but it's hard to forget those little details about him. I just hate feeling like a broken lock. A lock of dark secrets and completely irrepairable. Though it's not the fact that Im irrepairable that bothers me as much as feeling so... replaceable. Idk. Maybe I need to go out with someone to get him out of my head.

school is no longer a place of knowledge
it's a place of remembrance.
what're we supposed to learn when our goals are twisted into aspirations of what there once was.
we no longer go to school to learn because it's no longer what school is for.
it's a place where we'd just rather not fail and we're tested on what we remember from last class.
that is not an education, it's a good memory.