We create worlds, that which we have warped to our own beauty, and set them free, en-fixing them with a key before the cage. This is what we are. Poets.

False Idols

Waking to the new born sun
shouting wishes of thanks and forgiveness
they walk on, blinded by their faith
in his word. a deadened reality. a false
hope

They wash themselves
in his blood, his body and his soul
for what are they to receive
but false hopes and dreams
asleep at his alter they fail
to wake to the coming waves
of reality

That one day
down this winding road
down the bricks of shit
and loathing pains and aches
That one day
they may finally see
at their final waking our
Asleep to dream
or to dream asleep
Never open
always closed
Their minds
will be lost
in the eternity that is
their false idol.

Never did I

Never have I
Lost my control
Of my life
of my self
of the words
that spill forth

Never have I
Taken my will
so seriously
around anyone
around anything

Never have I
Lost interest
or seen outside
the boxes
you place
before me

Never did I
Cry these words
or scream so loud
for no one to hear
but you
but you

Family is a four letter word

When you want them
to be there
by your side
to help you
to love you
where are they
where is the love
they say is undying

It’s lost
in the pain
of yesterday
the mistakes we made
the days we hated ourselves
the people we have become
but where did it go
this undying love
this word
called
Family

There once was….

It all felt real
one day back
in November
Her lips
her Smile
it was all I
could think
about
dream
about

Then slowly it came
like the tide
moving in
and moving out
taking it all with it
all that i felt
for my life
for the eyes
that starred back
at me
that loved me
but I couldnt love
I couldnt love
because my heart
was lost

There once was
a man
who knew it all
who knew it to
be true
till that one day
back in November.

a lost poem

I constantly
live in my own
perfect world…
which is
neither: pipe….
nor drink….
nor the stained ceilings
of the ass painted
murals….
the pricetag
to be a bit
higher on my head…

i live for beauty
and I pay for
beauty
my strings are
never rusty and
I just play
on and on—–
watching all these people
dealing with their
emotions and problems
like they all sit their
at a poker table

My eyes my soul.

You must hear this all the time but i feel as if i must say it “Eyes are the gateway to the soul”. I hope that is my own original version and not someones. There is a world beyond our understanding that stares at us everyday, in the eyes of those we love. Its heard in their hearts sung through their souls. What words do is unite us, bring us closer. We are those with which love can sing to us without saying a word without lifting a note. My world my desires my pleasures lie inside, deep down buried below all the pain and suffering. I want those around me to see me for who i am and not who i was. Deep down inside us all is a young child, someone innocent, full of life. I am that child. I am that soul that sings these words without speaking. I want that special someone to see beyond the scars of time. The love that is buried deep within.

My world_

Welcome to my world.
Faceless. Deathless.
A world of nothing.

Some people have no idea what life truly is. They live day to day just walking through it. But then there are some who see the true beauty. Im not talking about an artist or a photographer. I speak of the people who truly appreciate life. they see the snow as freedom, they welcome the rain on their faces. Granted most of them will be in and out of this world, but when it is their time to feel freedom sweep across their faces they will truly appreciate it.

We take all this for granted, our lives are a bore, we dwell in our own shit. Freedom to these people is getting in a car and driving to Starbucks, now that is Freedom.

Their are a few forms of beauty in this world. Most surrounds us daily but we are to ignorant.

The odd couple meeting for the first time. A teen hangout, because they are still under age. A tired man sleeping in the corner. Then there is me, the wannabe human writing down his fears and exposures in this close-knit desperation. Laptops flowing around like a rancid smell. This is not life nor is it freedom. We live to die. Again their are those few who see past all the fallacies that are this world. They are Alive.

Wounded Heart

Wounded Heart

I want to open all the doors of your wounded heart
I want to deliver you from all that plagues you
I want to believer that all this pain is just a mask

Laying my head down next to yours
I can feel your heart beat, your love move
I care not where you have been but where you are now

So do me this favor
Just one favor
Open up to me and let me in
Open you eyes to the wonder of this world

I want to open all the doors of your heart
I want to bleed out all the negative thoughts
I want to believe that all the pain is just that a mask

Placing my hand on your wounded heart
I can feel your soul scream, your body wants more
I wish this was as easy as it may seem, but this world has a bigger plan for you and me

So sing me that sweet tune
Just one song
Let your heart speak to mine, as your lips do so fine
Open your arms and let me in

Fruits of my Labor

(Apple)
As i take my first bite
deep into the core
i see the reasons
drip in front of me
Sweet and sour
Happy and sad
This world is just that
a playful green delight
I smile and move on

( Banana )
Next up on this day
Is a sweet reality
Yellow with envy
Green with sorrow
It touches my lips
Silky and smooth
But full of distaste
Scared i drop the peel
May you slip and fall, fall, fall

( Honeydew )
My outside says no way
but inward i scream yes
Rough as i appear
It takes a knife to know
the truth about me
May you come weapon drawn
to cut these walls of mine
to devour the truth.