To see the Pale Moon while at sea.

 A golden Firefly at dusk, Illuminates the yellow sky with pale streaks of light.
It's overwhelming glow blinds the weak of heart. and forces them
to see what is not theirs.

Orange tulips wild and free
tell us things that can never be.
the pains of past are horns of plight
forever bow at hatreds might

A whiter breeze, that shallow feel.
a straining force that makes me kneel
a breath so cold it make me warm
like a gentle trample of a swarm
with bats and bees that have no wings
where on my feet I feel the stings
a poison bite, a rabid claw.
as veins erupt I stand in awe.

I feel the venom in my head.
it hurts me so. I'm still not dead
a needled itch goes down my throat.
I see a light. I'm on my boat.
and as I travel through the see
a simple wave will tarnish me.

"10 restless knights" pt. 10.: Spam's Tale.

  I have to say this as a way of defending my name and the nae of my children.
I am far from an IDIOT and a drunkard.
I mean, Just because I drink every hour of every day and I just happen to be drunk now. doesn't make me
at *HIC drunk..

THAT!
is for thelordalmightytodecide. NOT some IDIOT Priest and his IDIOT Wife.
and I'm not stupid either!
As a Matter of FACT
I am probably the MOST Intelligent person in this.
THIS stinkin' town you SEE!
I have this system you SEE
I let EVERYONE THINK I'm and IDIOT drunk.
so that they disregard me.
I sit alone.
I listen
I write what I  hear and sell it to some phony prophet.
who then sells his prophecies to the real IDIOTs
who then act on what they believe is true.
I sometimes. on dry days mostly sell the prophet lies.
most of which come to benefit me.
I have been gifted with confiscated gold from an evidence shed
that I am in charge of.

FRIENDSHIP

"10 restless knights" Pt. 9.:Blake's Tale

I see everything that goes on in this small world.
I draw everything I see. Good deeds. Bad deeds.
even indifferent deeds
I am a quick painter.
I illustrate almost instantly.
many knights know of my artwork.
they wish to see what goes on.
who cheats on who.
and who stole from whom.
and what was that which was stolen.
very rarely to they come to see what good deeds have come to pass.

Today a man of great stature and brawn asked to see an image of a man whom murdered royalty.
I showed him the image for a price. and as quick as he came he left.
he also took some pictures of a thief and a con artist.
the man enforced the law and I provided reason.

I was once asked If I could tell the future with my art.
he wished to know the outcome of the war.
I told him I could not draw the future.
the man became irate and then purchased an image of a cannibal eating his own brother.
the truth is I can tell the future with my art.
because from the past all future actions spout.
I have seen it all before.

DEITY

"10 restless knights" Pt. 8.:Artwole's tale

  Greetings and thank you.
why yes I AM better than you.
I'm faster, Stronger and I do every thing quite perfectly.
I am paid very well.
but only when there is no one else working along with me.
I am paid what 10 people's lives are worth.
just yesterday I was building the most expensive, and intricate
outdoor shelter structure in all the outskirts.
or even the front line. etc.
builts with planks of elements
 that spawn human hatred and greed.

an element so precious,
kings and men of great valor and strength
are the ones who carry it.

it was once believed that
sages and wizards combines rocks and magic to forge it.

In my recent adolescence.
I have realized that I two have a superior brain.
and using my powerful mind.
I have thought of a plan you see.
to keep the gold.
I use bright rocks.
he will never know the difference.

ECONOMICS

"10 restless knights" Pt. 7.: Moog's Tale

  Today was good.
I made a lot of money.
the war has been good for me.
I have been making good business.
In my kitchen I have been cooking non-stop.
meal after meal sold to the poor.
but mostly to the wealthy.
many poor beg for food.
but cannot afford it.
so I wait. I watch them starve.
today I found three dead at my doorstep

I made a stew.
sold it to the rich whom ate it gratefully
they say I am the greatest chef in the world
I whole heartily agree
the fruit of our laborers.
is the most delicious meal in our world.
I have tasted my meals
many times before I made a business out of it.

if not for their hard labors in the front-line
I'd be left with nothing.
less than nothing.

PROGRESS

"10 restless knights" Pt. 6: Daze's Tale

They have left me behind enemy lines. they...
They have left us. It has been..
It has been three weeks.
days after days wallowing in our own filth.
my partner before me.
the one...
the one that owwwnnned this journal.
has passed.

I found him hunched over it.
I may just have been the only one
the only one to have read his last thoughts.
-------------
I hear soldiers coming.
----------------

Let this be my last testament.
I am about to do the unthinkable.
the unthinkable.. the inconceivable

I leave my wife with.
My one most valuable possession.
My ever lasting love for her.
this is my final testament
I will not be alive after this.

I have escaped the prison that I was taken to.
and hid in the farmlands.
I discovered royalty.
in the most unlikely place.
 I have murdered royalty.

WAR

"10 restless knights" Pt. 5.: Rip's Tale

I'm behind enemy lines. The Establishment co--------
I'm shaken up. As I was writing the-------
I am in no condition to write at the moment
I can barely work up the strength to w-----------!

VALOR

"10 restless knights" Pt. 4.:Zanlor's Tale

IT IS HOT!
   I have been working all day and all night.
nonstop!
I don't care anymore.
My hands are numb with pain.
Pain I can't feel.

I'll let you in on a little secret
I lie.I don't work.
I'm just there watching.
I lift a few things once in a while.
I'm just a scapegoat.
I get blamed for most of life's problems.
doesn't matter thought there is enough of me to go around
I can multiply.
My sons do all the work.
I get paid very little.
but it is they whom get the short end of the stick
for I cannot be touched
I work for both sides.

Ever present.

I give my excuse that I wish to help
really I want nothing of the sort.
I have many families
my newest wife is very powerful
she is an adulterer
it matters not.
for she loves me more than that idiotic ogre.
I have nothing to lose so I take many risks.

LABOR

"10 Restless Knights" Pt.3.: Kingles' Tall

  I big, I strong,
I enforce the rules.
I captured a thief.
He was bad.
He steal valuable things.
He steal many things.
He even took life.

"What a shame", I say.
I be worse thief than him.
I take heart
Me looks and me power take many hearts
me also take souls
Small soul, Big soul.
mostly bad souls.
I no like bad men.
I kill bad men who steal.

......steal things.

I no steal
LOVE not thing.
right?
not like I choose what to steal\
I do no wrong.
women want me. women love me
women have me.
they steal too.
I enforce rules
they like power too.
do not steal from me.
cause I kill.

ORDER

"10 restless knights" Pt. 2.: Darod' Stale

  I killed a man today. It was horrible.
I can see it clearer than day.
He was protecting his stable.
Poor fool died for a belief.
I murdered him for property.
materials are physical incarnations of ideas.
inventions.

The reality of creation.
It's one true physical manifestation.
the fool lived on thoughts.
thrived on talking and acting.

He pleaded with me.
He begged that I would not kill him.
He offered me every thing that he owned.
If his own possessions were less valuable than his life
I was to take his most valuable possession
one he wouldn't trade anything for.
and that's why I killed him.

I fight for big gains.
Great rewards and for self satisfaction
morals and honor are just petty thoughts for me.
never worth any of my time.
I had a chance and I took it.
I took it all.

ADVANTAGE

"10 restless knights" Pt. 1.: Armos' Tail

   I once owned a stable in Whitfield. It was an extraordinary sight to see.
one that causes sore eyes and a shine in the buck teeth of many lesser men.
Ones unworthy of such a sight. I painted it gold.
 I used a stand to exemplify it's beauty.
I once foresaw it's destruction.
I was vain then. I rarely leaked paranoia.
Now it erodes the calm thoughts through thick gushes of sweat.

A king was killed there. I praise the day it happened.
I worship an action, a moment, a time.
'tis not a flaw in my logic
but a kink in life's armor.
I worship a time, a day, an hour, a second.
an idea, a symbol.
but today does not.

I hail destruction and despise order.
Anarchy is not my game
but the source of my fame.
I am the first knight.

REFORM

Throwing Stones

With a muttered coincidence
Gold yet struck.
Oil yet revealed.
Bestowed with the gift of silence
Burdened with the curse of solitude.
Mistaken phrases renounced in whispered utterances.


It is like looking into a shattered mirror. 7 years bad luck.
3rd time is a charm.
Repaired yet again.
Broken courage.
Glued with warm delusions of satisfaction
The light of persistence
Reveals every crack.


One is never whom one says one is. is one?

Wet Paint

I stumbled into something new
I, unaware of what to do.
A new mistake I'm sure to make
Another mask, new hand to take.
Attempt to reach it
I dare not.


I clearly haven't learned


Upon the floor.
A painters brush.
No worries now.
It's not a crush.
A stroke of truth
The color black
A dry brushed white
To show the cracks.
I aim to high.


Stained ambitions
No more precautions.
Reckless impatience.
Paint didn't settle.
Mixed emotions.
Colors blended by accident.


Painted the wrong picture.
No longer a work of art.
But a crime of passion.

Schizoid ( M I Q A D)

Question my motifs?
No arbitrary motives involved in this subtle transition
Rockefeller wasn't a rook
Nor Einstein a pawn
The bloated king dines on
Cesar's buttered snack.
The first president's invention
The last precedent in place.


Mary of the oval bar.
Curly bronzed transgression
Needled and sowed tears in time (wasted) and space (unused)
A glimmered twilight yawned
rash yet sophisticated.
The envy of a bitter brute.


"Flee" flaunted the peacock
Mistaken for twin serpents
Confused for each other.
Lovely venom
Painful seduction.
Stainless consumption.
Months within their bellies
Years without eating.


The moon's shine is a luff
red plastic trees
Tumble
Tumble
Tumbled

Click* Undeveloped Footage Pt. 2

CLICK*
A dog with fur as black as his luck.
Eyes shine red with a glare of a blinding flash
he stands like a deer in the headlights.
an allusion to his fate.
if you can't be a good example
you will be a fair warning.

CLICK*
A brown knitted sweater
brown pants and a black tie.
A child whom looks to be going somewhere.
Pen in hand. Smile on face.
Time slows down
He's not on the moon yet.


CLICK*
A man in a room
Selling his soul along with his legacy
gets everything in exchange
Love,Peace, Prosperity, Money.
a pitch black absence in his eyes.
a lucid moment of satisfaction
when the greatest burden life has to offer
 is taken off his back.

CLICK*
Man and wife.
in a new town.
older than they are.
young and in love.
out of options.
the north country bears well wishers.
and a fist full of dollars.

AU ("golden")

Slithering. they come hither.
subtle approaches.
a waning pace.
unmistakably brittle steps toward the infinite stair case.
one heavy foot at a time.
one ton steps toward the door.
the lights dimming as the night grows around her.

a reptilian smile.
soft glowing love
burdened by the ether of a majestic existence.
sharpened claws
painted excellence.
pearls atop her head.
and a milestone at her bed side.

tomorrow a new distance traveled
rolling stops on every cut corner.
great experiences on a granite cerebrum
life's empty nuances easily forgotten

bent finger tips
warm hands
tightly griping Charon's coins


 

Excuse me.

One takes the path of least resistance.
A steady pace in a flowing stream
a slotted entryway beneath a city on fire.
the valleys of courage dry and withered.
no rain to come for months.
One prays a storm is coming.


Excuse me
Teach me the ways of your reality.
Culture me in your views on society
lecture me on the skin and bones of sobriety
where can I bury my empty shell?


You are unaware of my concerns
I am not impressed 
no work of yours will earn your keep
no chance in hell you wasted creep.


*cough 
Bless you

Castle under Siege

The only beautiful things in this world are those things that endure and grow beyond impossible odds
The green of leafs burnt in my memory
the auspicious harbors of a vindictive sea.
the grey catacombs of the rhythmic tapping of underground currents
Time is the great equalizer.
courage is ever fleeting in that reality


The tree of knowledge is now spent.
all fruits picked and it's seeds spread thin
on mounds of concrete.
roads of cement and docks of self pity
the round table of equality broken in three parts
the knights now fight 'til mourning
while Guinevere and Lancelot
run amok in the kingdom


Mother nature's shade unbalanced by winter's bleeding edge
a nose dive by great magicians into the frozen lake of commiseration
blood on thin ice.

Tumultuous Heap

I want to convey how disgusting junk is.
I want to express the filth and clutter in a light so
atrocious that the thought of even the slightest pile is
so vehemently repulsive it would force any whom observe it to cringe in terror.


Junk is a cancer.
Materialism is the catalyst and
we as consumers self-perpetuate the disease.
I want to express how miserable reliance to objects is.
I want to express it in an impossible fashion.
One that is beyond reliance on pen and papers.
Ink and feathers.


Junk yards and grave yards contain
our afterbirth rotting underground.
laying beneath my feet is
the putrid bowel movements of our forefathers.
The malevolent stench of our own misdeeds.
Our own oblivious endeavors for a false sense of satisfaction.
I want to say.


It is all a waste and it will forever continue to be a waste

Click* Undeveloped Footage pt. 1

CLICK*
Darkness-
Unfocused image.
Blurred, Sporadic, A momentous occasion.
rushed and uncoordinated. Ruined.
the ocean behind the scenes. no sound in a shell.
no "cowabunga". no splash page.
sand shaded by a shaking anxiety.
A fleeted memory burred in the moment.

Click*
Growth. a large tree. three happy people underneath
it tells a story of a trip. a voyage unfamiliar.
but related. Friends lost at sea. lost abroad.
stuffed, wet, furred and brown.
Teddy missed the mark. forever beneath the shade.
on the grass.

Click*
Brick and Mortar.
Hoofed creatures scurrying about
a gated community.
Fed from a troth filled with fish.
hay stacked like pyramids.
calves tied to a post.
birthed by caged mothers.

Click*
Attacked by toy soldiers.
an army falling from above.
green and plastic
paranormal.
the glass shattered.
shrapnel now lays on the carpet.
a tragic revolution.

W/O an afterthought

Subjugated by current events.
A postural rhythm played backwards
unconstrained in the lost apertures of a rotten digression.
the copper coins in the dried out fountain now green with oxidation.

A rotten course of history.
Belated and unsatisfactory.
Course actions with little attire.

I have wavered thinly with ambition.
Remarked on high with no optimism.
My wonderment with nature.
cruel and unusual.

laws of nature predate my existence.
laws of man unrelated.

I wish for something bigger.
I know of nothing truer.

Broken but not replaced.
this sultry existence.
past tense. no longer recurring
this dream, that is.

Misstep on coincidence
Shake off the fractions of a half dollar
rewrite the poem
open a new account

Spells unchecked
black magic on stage
last pick on the floor
strawberry flavored cuts on my wrist

a tale that was never told
never sold
not a dime was made that day.

Au Revoir

nouveau fantôme, au revoir 
Je souhaite que vous pourriez me voir
Je souhaite que vous ayez été près
Je peux seulement imaginer votre beauté maintenant
Une beauté I a éprouvé avec mes yeux mêmes


Peau blanche pâle.
cheveux noirs foncés.
beauté labiée rouge


vous êtes la pleine lune.
vous vivez dans l'obscurité,
mais vous êtes ma lumière


vous partez maintenant. 
vous partez aussi rapidement que vous êtes venu
allé aussi rapidement que le jour se casse 


J'aurais été une perte de temps. 
Je sais cela maintenant. 
merci d'épargner mes sentiments


J'ai voulu être une ancre à un navire de navigation.
mais vous n'êtes pas un bateau laissant à la mer. 
aucun mon amour, vous êtes la mais colombe volant au loin à de nouveaux mondes.


Je vous manquerai, je regarderai vers le haut le ciel et l'espoir à un jour vous revoient. 
au revoir mon ange. 
au revoir ma colombe

Eons Apart

 Cry the night death played her hand.

Silence from those whom would understand.

A greater God too wise to tell me.

the night dark like the pupil dilated.

eyes wide open to an endless picture.

a clip show.

snap shots of mothers and fathers alike

dead under wheels tracked through the sky

Broken English hollered goodbyes.

weathered eyelids.

no more clouds passing by.

another year.

it's never the same.

Never again

(Hourly) Wages a war

Please.

the road is long ahead of me.

Please.

the sharp rocks jagged

Never wore shoes.

the journey long.

no sole to protect me.

I leave a bloody path behind.

I leave a jug of wine in the battered beaches of a lengthy spring.

a wave

goodbye my lovely home

swimming sounds like nothing in my native tongue.

the future sounds aloof

a pressing matter.

morphing like a caterpillar into something far more

endangered.

untouchable, hard work

stuffing your face.

 become a god over night.

Burning. the skin.

the sun.

born of the cosmos.

destined to die.

life peels away from my dead face.

my dead arms.

my lifeless skin.

becoming dust.

lost with my hair.

beneath the broken windows

on a third floor balcony.

fall is here.

jump it's time.

spring back in fear.

the bloom of my loving roses.

the dropping of beloved knowledge.

a golden stanza sings again

"oh please, return my precious time.oh please my lovely. please this time."

I catch up with the fall.

and splat it's cold and dark.

white powder

 melting away with time.

it's a time of bliss. a time of joy.

to celebrate a little boy. new birth forsaken.

mistakes are made.

by summer all this snow will fade.

into the sky to make new tears.

and cry again.

for the next few years.

Nocturnal Illusions Pt. 2

Slept well with a story 

A tale gone array 

Slept soundly till morning. 

for my end was yet nigh.

in the tale was a vision

of past presents grown cold

or a future insidiously whispered

about the hand fate would hold.

restrained by a jacket 

and shrunken by quacks. 

eyes wide open and vigilant of these doctors

these hacks

these grim reapers with masks

fear creeps from my body. 

the shivers grow old

sin in a mask

is but a man with a soul. 

Death looks sympathetic 

but her eyes glare of hate.

she's had it out for me. 

my apologies to late.

A surgeon whose brow silver aged

an old man. 

prepared for life's very next stage

he gives a keen look of compassion at my weary young eyes

I feel the straps on my arms tightening.

I've since grown quite wise.

quite old in no time at all.

A needle in the hands of my executioner. 

she's knows my fate. she holds it in her hands.

I see a glass and behind it 

loved ones perhaps. 

friends and foes smiling and crying.

laughing and poking fun. 

wonderment.

estrangement  

a mother and a family. 

not my own I do not recognize one of them

 I feel truly loved by them

a cable between us.

a life line of fact.

a memory tarnished 

by betrayals and tact.

I see my three children

uncaring, unjustly.

no watery vision. 

 unfazed and unknowing

AN INJUSTICE

I too could not fathom.

it seemed like a dream 

 no tears came from my eyes.

 though I wanted to cry.

It became quite apparent now

that I was going to die.

 I felt it that,

 that prick! 

he pricked me. 

more then a prick.

 an injection 

no pain just frustration.

sweat from my face

 and blood from my arm slipping down.

 the feeling of death is a horrible one.

 I felt the poison through my veins. 

all around going to my head. 

the most peculiar feeling is that of death.

 it is like when you are expecting something.

 that rush.

 that tinggling you get when you hear something shocking. 

those goosbumps that grow on your skin like a virus . 

death is a rush .

 so passionate the feeling yet so depressing.

 the rush caught up to my head and I awoke. 

was this my death of the death of my past. 

was I a criminal , 

or a victim. 

did I deserve it? 

and for what reasons.? 

did my end justify my means. .

Disdain Adolescence

The crippling pain of depression 
                          seems to envelope small minds as 
                                      we curve through the long woven
                                                                     path of humanity
                              To sleep in our beds and stream through
                 like a snake in the rotten soiled tubing 
         of our cryptic lives.
               Each day we wake and wish to die.
                                                 but fail to ever live 
                                                        it usually takes the fate of others 
                                                                        to worry one damp soul 
                                                                           we are hung in a pit 
                                                      where only lies and terrible sins 
                                    could save us from impurity.
                    one whines for sight but fails to see
        that his sight is not sought 

                     A ghost in love like the bones of our sky.

                           impenetrable lies falter hasty goodbyes 
                                 uniformed youths circle in guilt,
                                  spinning in song through sully
                                          brown haze of an 
                                             angelic tune. 
 
ensnared, 
beaten , 
crushed 
and 
drowned
in the rivers of our disdained adolescents

Nocturnal Illusions Pt. 1

within my arm.
a fruit will spring  
a scab to peel. an obsession for such a weak man as I.
the dark blur tempting my action.
the over whelming urge to remove it.
its red. its vines. penetrate forth from my skin. and I bleed.
the first of a few falls out. 
a tomato. 
the second I try to remove.
I squeeze. it hurts.
its vine. is all I can reach. 
I rip and tear. my skin is no more.
my arms are shred 
no muscle. just the lumpy remains of my scarlet bones. 
I tremble at the sight of my weakness.

The Prick

As the sewer sewed. the needle wrote a song.
flicking lights. and golden nails at each others necks.
the shame of their gloating
red to our sight.
a string held for dear life.
a clinging sign of need.
the needle falls
and to its catcher, it gives a poke.
a needle who falls needs not to be caught.
unless you are prepared and willing to feel its prick

Grandiose

an extravagance of a familiar kind.
willing. needing. and wanting.
waiting, filing and looking.

Find it in the hard floors of the wilderness.
surely they will bow to you.
the crown will wave in your hands lusting for the appreciation you so sorely need.

the fools will doubt the truth of antimatters.
and coinsurances 

the issue of love is grandiose. 
as most would reverse the idea..

I wished to purchase such a quary.

blundering in my own consequences. 
fluttering in my own air. 
I would swear control as mine. 
and it would belong to no other.

river, such overuse of expression flow unto thee.
mild heartache crushes stones to powder as would a mountain in it's eruption

false respect paid to the murderers. 

break glass unwittingly 

Giddy

It's a rush.
You know that feeling when your in space and all the molecules in your body want to fly in a separate direction but are forced to be stuck within your body so a wrenching pain of energy is blasting from every pore in your body.
a pulse of energy erecting from every molecule and you just want to explode.
The lack of oxygen turnging your skin purple and ever nanosecond is agony.
but it's all for the best.
that hollow feeling deep within the very pit of your soul that knows every thing will be back to normal in a few minutes.
the perplexing virtigo you get seconds before your collapse and wake up from that horrible nightmare.
and your suddely feel the urge to do it once more.

you want to feel the shortness of breathe the slowly recurring noises, (subtle at first) then a gradual impulse of sounds buyrsting through every nerve in your head. you want it to stop but the bang just persists.
you wanna die for just one seond before your back in space.
your eyes want to split in two and your heart is now moving so fast that it feels like is not moving at all.
the paradox within your heart empty but extremely heavy.

reoccuring sounds mumbles of ideas scrambling to releave all the pressure in your lungs. all sences shot. darkness  followed by light and every thing you know is back as you left it.

that wonderful nightmare is over.

but the urge to relive it is still there.
the pain is unbearable. but the urge is much more.

silence.

Pressure in my Holy Temple; A headache.

Before I begin with my rhyme
 I must exclame it's been some time.
in days of old I used to write
in flashy letters both black and white.

"I walk along a lonely road "
That green day quote is pretty old
It reflects life and it shows
our petty goals and worthless woes
I see these flame way up high
as I walk I pass them by

the flames , I see on top of sticks
around me, buildings made of bricks.
I do not know where I am bound
then I stop to look around.
I see things that a man should never see
Beggers, Drunkards, Rats,and Addicts surrounding me
They yell at me, I say "this is swell"
I think I might just be in hell.

Indeed it's true I see a gate.
this man in red says "its too late"
I look at him in gross dismay
he asks me once to come and stay
He says to me "heavens not that great"
cause up there you can't masterbate"
And then he growls and laughs out loud
and with that, approachs a croud

they chant in key
as they approach me
and say the most peculiar things.
One says "you can't fly with buffalo wings"
and others join in to the chant.
"you can't yell feathers while I rant"
"I can't I can't I can't I can't "
"feathers" "Whether I can not say"
"Please you can't surely be so gay"
"Please Oh please don't get in my way"
I hear them speak and I say "HEY!"
"whats with all this crazy talk?"

then silence comes
not a word is spoke
until one says "ey whats wrong with you bloke?"
"why don't you join me for a smoke?"
As I replied "go home you joke"
I suddenly just awoke

I hide a gun beneath my bed.
some times I put it near my head.
in the night it would go off
My voice is gone, I have to cough.

the gun you see is not a gun
the gun reflects society.
in my sleep its under me
my bliss is sleep with no anxiety

You see the world is going straight to hell.
don't understand why? I'll explain. I shall.
you see, there is this guy. his name is . Tim
he is married to his woman, Kim.
every sunday Tim goes down on Jim

While at home alone is Kim
All night she worries for Husband Tim,
whether he will be back in time from the Gym
She  thinks that Tim is in the Gym
Oh poor delutional Kim
It is in fact Jim who is in Tim.

who Can say that this is right?
And still we all sit around and fight.
on the side of who is right.
that is in fact the question.
Who is right?

to proof ones own correct fault
one must not assalt the one who seems to be right.
For he can put up a better fight.
ones own ideas can be strong
And as we live we go along
with what we are told and think we know
and justify them till we go
to heaven or hell we never know.

Sodomy, Rape, Incest , and lust.
Issues that just bring disgust.
sexual acts can be robust.
Stealing, Killing, And Lying bring guilt
on those Crimes are laws are built.
but we do not reflect on ourselfs.
as if we are innocent elfs
with nothing more then gifts and bells
but cute things like that in market sells.

the money that those markets make
are spared for rich men to take.
with shares and money at ones expence make.
and then he falls with a chance to break
He's broke it'g one no time for him
cause here comes money in a case for Jim.

A lawsuit is made with Kim to Tim.
A divorse is planned between her and him.
She caught Jim In Tim
and in a whim Jim leaves with Tim.
Some money lost for poor old Kim.
She was not ever married with him.

She is lost and sad no money to use.
she found a chance, Nothing to loose.
To sleep with men and drink some booze.
she has two kids. whom she can abuse.
One slap or two can light a fuse.
these kids are old enough to use.
that gun she had in case of theft.
Bang bang Boom boom No one is left.

No please excuse my lack of rhyme but this had to be said from time to time.

"you are what your surrounded by" 

Cosmic Surgery

oh, come to my store,
I’ll fix you up.
I’ll grab a tooth pick and a cup, and
sow your mouth and stomach shut.

then while your sitting on the chair
I’ll give you some burdens to bear
as well as cut your silly hair.

perhaps I’ll charm you will a spell
and ask you to live safe and well
as I live alone in hell.

then while I’m at it how ’bout a perm.
a face lift? botox? and bath?
and as your tied  up you try to squirm
while I wipe off every germ.

an acid bath will do you good,
a moral boost it would, it would.

how horrid it must sound to you.
a creature so uptight and rude.
a ghoul a ghost with attitude.
but heck it’s fine I’m in the mood.

lets fight and struggle in a match.
or fire brimstone with a catch.
the winner will be baked in a batch of
 tasteful delectable snacks.

a sunshine moral code of ethics keep all dreams of murder,
blood and gore,as nothing more then just a simple
 boring thought.
it’s all been seen you say.
there’s nothing that scares me. no way!.

then what about a streak of sadness, tainted with a birch of madness.
broken by an knife of steel deep within your back.

oh that sounds lovely for the hour and you’ll go deaf from screams as I grow sour toward your utterly pathetic thoughts of rage filled angst.

oh my wonderful flower. how was the trip with doctor bat.
who said he’d do you good and makes all troubles go away.

oh yes he’s good I’ll recommend him as you should to every wacko in da hood.
and we’ll be jolly filled with beans of caramel and suet

my pregnant rat is still alive with child in arms endangerment.
as all harm comes along at once we worry so a chance to put away the harms of filth and smut that plague our soft trite souls. 

What's the matter of fact?

Occam's razor
"All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best."

It's a well known fact that complexities in life are variable to the people whom are being plagued with ambivalent feelings toward several equal factors in living.

what can honestly be done if such factors bring options that are equally as meaningful?  The problems that arises there from are thus meaningless because of their contradictory nature.

this odd paradoxical nature dwells within life's long road and is at every twist and turn.
Science has Religion.
Love has Hate.
and
The Good have The Bad.

after birth a fork in the road is establish. through out every year another fork is added.
but there has never been established which road is "correct"
or whether it's the correct road in which we are to follow.
but one thing is for sure.
a life of simplicity is usually the correct one

but what is yet to be established is:
what constitutes simplicity?

The Id manages simplicity.
but the Ego re-enforces it. 

Cancer

we are omnipotent it seems
we can realize our dreams
we'll transport ourselves through beams
to new territory
we can sow all that we can
which we'll reap,
take our business somewhere else.
and begin our grand tirade
more reaping less sowing.
more watching less showing

more for less.
less no more.

take take take
items galore.

Waste supplies to learn a trade.
Waste our time to get it made.
Waste our chances for a fade.

no less attention can be paid.
to imbeciles with belts and shades.

but now the mountain is to steep
the outliers way to high

it's a 90 degree slope
so now give up all hope

we'll sit and burn with in this blaze
bake until we're done.
and when the timer no longer will run

leave the haze of soft slumbers
into a more real world of unequal opportunities
and inequalities in our learning.

still the slope seems to high.
and our ropes now wear thin.

so retreat to the bin from which night mares are made.

An Address to Duress

I'd sooner raise my voice then raise a fist.
what honest impulse to bring harm with lack of proper intellect.
yell out you fools, lest you shall not be heard.

how eerie violence be,  how shameful can it be?

what pacifist would pass a fist to "fix" society?

be brutal as can be to make the pussies see he who holds to biggest stick
can rule his own country.

a leader of a gang. a fighter in a ring. who's brain tossed left and right
is like a bird with out it's wings. How lonely are the bright whom live without a fight. with which his livelihood is trite and unrewarding.

I have yet to see how courage is the key to winning over patrons of the art.
when can we earn a spot without having to have fought a scoundrel without any more to gain.


when will the madness end?
how can we ever win?
without showing off and intimidating.

our human minds still small.
our impulses to strong.

we now know how to kill
so it shan't not be to long.

It's so obvious you're a gas

it's obvious you're a gas,
yet so very dense you are.
a fleeing hope to waste away
and breeze through out your ass
an interior motive you applied to my illusions 
and unintentional leap into conclusions
and yet I find it quite amusing 
that I could play along. 

but still I'm at a pause, 
I've stumbled on your clause 
in a contract you proposed
though I would agree
I cannot speak for me 
and so poems will then work for free
and robotic as it would seem 
my words come all from dreams
though they don't have heart or soul to pass

it's so obvious they're a gas 

Great Scott

keep your mouth shut don't utter a word
if you do and it's wise you'll be hated.
Great Scott that's absurd.

if you keep biting your tongue you'll cut it right off.
you will chew it for hours till your sore throat is raw.
no speaking for hatred is at every whim
and a word from your mouth can be bitter or grim
no opinions can ever matter that much.

but be free to speak out lest your eye balls torn out
for what can you say if your vision is gone?
what can be said when you can't tell things apart.

do we think to be grand
do we say things to soon?
why utter meek virtues
and appear the buffoon

core explorations to rash
and not evenly scored
Great Scott the torturing is what I've always abhorred.

but I wont say a thing when your souls on the line
it's yours after all
yes yours
not mine...

Garden Snail

a shelter in a shell
a shell's a living hell
when a home becomes a prison
your hell is now a cell

when I know I have a back bone I'm more inclined to slouch
ever moving slowly
creeping slow into a crawl
the slime still far behind you.

to leave and still be a slug
in a garden infested with bugs.
I wish I could move
at a rate to improve
my life around leaches and grubs

apples that fall from above
never grow up and be free.
and seldom grow up to be trees
for when they are consumed
they're digested (entombed)
into excremental brown doves 

No, Time has passed

walk with me for once
talk with me once again.

never mind
seek that which is yours.
I don't share.
hell, I don't care.

depart from my sight
can't stand that look.
one I can only imagine.
one I believe you're capable of making.
how it haunts me.
doesn't it?

can't say for sure.
won't say I'm sure.
can't cause it's still a blur

was that you?
on the bus?
was that you
whom I used to trust

can't say that I've helped.
can't say that I could've
won't say that I tried.
can't say that I would've.

where did they all go?
why did I stay here?

I should be gone..
I could be gone.
but I'm not.

could it be hope?
I wish it were hope
and It very well can be hope.

but it's not.

it's not.

It's all times that seem to be all gone and over with. 

Chameleon Proclivity

Like what floats on a river
like want can't sink fast enough
a movement referred by inclination
so long as you've flow far away.
away from your problems
can't ever know you to well
directing your problems like that free flowing tide
mistook you for someone too brave to hide.

since you've gone
gone to far
since you've lost
lost so much
lost your touch.
lost it all

and I can't bear to let it slide
it's now torn though my rough hide
and it's a thorn on my side

you've changed friend
you've not you anymore
you've change fiend
you're not who I knew
you're not like before

Or just don't
change now, some more. I beg . become nothing instead. you have changed to adapt. it's ok but it's sad. cause your not what you could be. you've become what you want to be seen as. it's a drag I can say. that one changes each day to be saved from a slash by one with a gash in a heart.

I told you quite clear with assertion and fear to never get near for your joining wont last. and you would be a cast for a once broken heart.

but you do what you can to survive. it's quite noble you see
and for that I coincide your a chameleon indeed

Self of little or no value

Look, again
step aside
rest your head

by the rules you'll abide

set in stone are the causes we think then we are
broken bonds yet decided are sure to be wrong.

bomb the capital you ask
rotten filth lines the street
yet we eat where we feel like and
sleep where we need.

return our foreshadowed hope in exchange for free will
and yes we are unsound and valid indeed

unused to the purger
what health can we have
when you're soaked in their power
there can't be much fun
uncertain I am of the risk that you take

by you I mean me
and by me
my mistake

you're right and you're not cause what's left is you're done
the world is a value
and we are each of none 

For what it's worth

My sanction's sanctum bewildered by doubt
will my courage rejoice me?
or am I not eager to begrudge my objectives.
can I not go home unscathed
or is my worry the bases for reworking my security
I see the poor arise as the rain dances in colors
what world supports a battery of lies and negates the souls of man?

can a middle ground be the abyss of moderation?
well I'd hope more regrets encourage less action for
why would the soul less wonders of the human condition be in effect in our sorrows

why involve reason in death?
for my plea is no longer to the devil
but to the demons afoot

Intrepid Re: A dying breed

Sell out boundaries
lay a course for our insistence
we exist to be frail
so we search for destruction
it's obvious now.

we hide from our troubles and exemplify our causes
effects of the heart I'm sure.

but yet fear drives us.

like a drunk driver on the road
death will come soon enough

either for me or a victim

only time could tell

and the wreck that follows is there for the world to see
and slow down at a pace only a snail could hope to compete with

ofcourse no one there mourns for the dead
they only pass in hopes they don't share the same fate.

and sad to say everyone does

so fear drives us over the edge.
yet certainty wont allow progress
if held in the threshold that is our censes
when we pass though
all fear and restraint is held out like.
bounced into oblivion and our naked
selfless bones now lie and wait for it's next witness
to the horrific

can one be helped with out lashing?

can one be taught without pain?

or is the pain the lesson of living?

and death indeed the reward.

I say not.

but tell that to the mislead

To control and discredit

Seizure begins with the consuption of our own goods

such qualities at the behest of others are far to frequent and we aspire to begin our own source of contempt toward another. such occurrences must be unrewarded and result in a shameful banishing. 

heh, to neglect a scourge such as that we must be savages 

for what more courageous heroes  bite your leg and take you to safety.

a slow man can fear fires

but a fast man bullets

what many more dreams end in nightmares

what single beds feel large when under the spell of slumber

the world turns on it..s axis every day

and god is not at fault.