Simple still

Optimism, clearly breaths

Auto-exclusivity.

Reach for winter's heavy sheath

Post the crunchy autumn leaves.

Endless summer, please evoke

Mornings late and evenings old.

Bring to me the past that was

All things home and nothing but.

I take refuge in the thought

We are nothing but a spot

Floating in a space so vast

Makes this populace seem drab

This, for me, is how I feel

And, personally,

Like simple lines

seem simple still

Concealed

I know that I am meant for something bigger

A minuteness magnified 

Via constant rigor

A grandiose part in a film shot at night

With long working hours leading Dawn into light

A complex system fabricated from thoughts

Constructed from ruins 

Kept in a box

Disguised as cathedrals or places of worship

Enveloped by darkness.

Concealed.

Blackened

The wonders of this place, like nothing we could ever breed

Philosophies replaced, by human minds hopped up on greed

The common truth between, all life and knowledge blooming here

Will sit in displaced awe, until you're secrets are revealed

And that's the thing you miss, a cold corrosive sabotage

And that's the ring you kiss, to prolong your pathetic song

No chords or melodies, to decorate your blackened lung

For all the words you speak, are guided by that blackened tongue

Bigger

I want a bigger life but I'm afraid it'd be a bigger lie.

Thinkers

The times I had are lost

In past events of ruins old

Used up and worst of all

They're worn from countless stories told

I live in moments gone

The ones that occupy my mind

Like spells they're cast upon

This empty circle that is time

So carefully I choose

Which vessels I will redefine

As art or country blues

I paint in hues the subtle line

Between the outer world

And what exist within the seams

Is where we're all unfurled

The stitches of the galaxy

A microscopic form

As seen from distances beyond

To fathom thoughts like these

Would take much longer than a night

But not so much it seems

For those who contemplate the day

For thinkings in their streams

Or so the thinkers like to say

Desire's a chore

The stain life leaves is but feversome yet.
I've only just begun and already I hate.
Used is the powerful word I cannot restate.
For it is harsh on the ears and much more on the faith
Of living passed all that is hard.
A memory in progress
Is presently fogless
It's current and fresh
But this isn't a plus
It falls under a plight
A darkened room with foreign doors and keys that seem as foreign or more.
A possible way of escape does exist
While a vague implication is made and insists
It's sealed in pain
In lust
In love
A false lore of such
Can't result in much
But dust on the mind
And dirt on the floor.
It's left me with nothing desired.
Desire's a chore.

A lawn so green

Everybody's having kids
Everyone is taking shits
Nothing seems to ever be
Seemingly so obvious
Saying things that need be said
This class is fucked
My heart is dead
A violent phrase
Poetic enough
To violate space
Perimeter snubbed
Cut into halves
And into fifths
Diminished sound
Turned into shit
A harmony
Not quite in tune
So dissonant
Just like the truth
Abstract essentials
Creep into this
Mind of mine
A waste of time
And space it seems
Disregards me
This poetry
This life crazy
At times I think
How nice it'd be
To never think
Or ever be
It calms my nerves
It helps me breath
New life into
Mentality
But that's not me
Ands that's not truth
Truth is I'm
nothing like you
I'm not through
With life and it's
Sense of humor-piece-of-shit-
Way to make things somehow fit
Reasonably meant for something more
Owner of green lawns galore
Just over the fence of self-doubt and dismay
Runs the stream of consciousness ill never embrace
Or so it seems.
And so I breath
So I'll believe
One day I might
Own a lawn so green.

#9

Revel in your majestic ties, the knots that binds us tight into the fabric of time, spilling blood like love pouring out of a sieve. Nothing feels so right, like the abundance of flight giving birth to second sight. Wetting our hands in, whats seems to be life, an illusion of the blessed night. The story-less vagrant upon his horse, and enchantment might be something of importance to a mindless, horrid, vicarious life.

Exception #1

Philosophy. Something people have forgotten to instill into their personalities.

A constant reminder of what its like to live a dream-like reality

no emotion, just business and entertainment.

Of course this is only one of infinite opinions led by a generalization of thoughts

but without the daily grind, the hustle and bustle of work and life,

a person reverts to thought. The most convenient, accessible, most portable and smartest device you'll ever own. No dependance on whats in your palm but whats on your mind. Thats what we need as a whole and as human kind.

#8?

You sing songs like a bird builds nests

structurally sound with the comfort to match

But having such skills can lead to such stress

thus jeopardizing you quarters of thatch

It'll blow right off with the slightest breeze

gently abrupt without warning or sign

But shelter will be the last thing o'er your sleeve

as you drink up your limited barrel of wine

#7

So cumbersome too

is the weight i carry for you

along with the songs I've sung

and the rhymes I've spun

like turn tables I scratch

the tiny surface of one.

The gobbledeegook of ones soul is to me

like the faintest discovery, revolutionarily agreed

Cuz I too can fake a lie

and no matter what you think, no matter how hard you try

your mind inside this universe is but a hair on a fly

wing it like a co-friend

the one who stands right near

cuz you'll never be able to wield this weapon you call a spear

#6 II

A tribesman,

all withered and strange

wanders the forest for food 'for the rain

he challenges even the most fierce equations

and seems to get nowhere for his weight isn't gaining

He hears his tendons stretch as he placidly combs the plane

While his heart sinks deeper through soul, his mind stays balanced, whole, and tame

#6

No words to describe how speechless i am.

The vernacular escapes me.

However, with someone the likes of you,

your world will never yield safety.

#4

I yawned the other night and i did not know

when your mind lacks a thing your body will let it show.

I have not yet experienced what the Hours call fate

For i have not yet traveled the accompanied state.

A place that is null and void of all things created or destroyed.

Some place that ignores your call but ignites your voice.

And as it travels through the space between,

your legs quiver slightly though your hands are serene.

And those words that you spoke they mean nothing right now.

You have spoken the language of the coming force

Not a film, nor a boat, but a rivalry sport.

#3

What to think of the day so far

I've been stranded and deceased for for quite some time

Yet the people ignore my song.

They avoid the wrong

and they are not blamed.

'Cuz he who yields not is a victim of his pride

He doesn't have a life or the time he wishes he had

to reflect upon himself and the life that he wishes he had.

And the things he values mean nothing to him

because they are but fish

In an endless swim.

#2

So what if i don't stylize my personality

its the seeping creative beast that sleeps inside my apathy

and to think that you just might be

a person to influence my appetite for clarity

a human disfigurement of a personification developed over time

through rhyme and verse

for more than the second time

i haven't learned the lesson

and so it begs the question

am i something more what i 'ought to be?

Can my dormant soul come out appropriately?

#1

A severely impenetrable wall blocks my view of the supposed setting sun.

While i struggle to regain my line of sight my mind gives in to a notion of

stinging, jetting, crushed blue felt on the table draped over the shelf

giving in to what seems like help

a welcoming invitation to a somewhat intriguing dissertation

on becoming a creative who seeks out liberation

something that makes sense but that isn't understood

is like drawing a chair made of wooden metal glue

it would be something new

it would be something true

but i cant help but think of the people that just don't care.