Uncertainty in Normality

I walk through leaves
To stolen storms
Where green is not an option
I want to see the powder stream down
And paste the sidewalk frozen
The towers above me I do not fear
I have come here many a year
To places so familiar
I am home
Lights of brightness and of snow
I spread my wings and land on a cement rainbow
Grey for streets that never end
Yellow lines instructing you to keep to the path you choose
A palate of colors
That are always knowing
If I walked by you
Yes you that billboard there
Would you remember when I was here 3 years ago with my father?
Seeing my first staged production?
Or do you remember the summer after
When I went running forever through the streets
Looking for the cast of a television show
That no longer gives me laughter
I change with the seasons
I become different yet the same when it snows
When I enter the steel garden
I remember what has been
And I am never quite sure if I should be happy that it has been
Or sad that it can no longer happen the way it once did?

Wednesday 19th December

The smell of my own filth
Fills my nostrils
I sit here
And wallow
Thinking trying to think
Of a way to make it all feel better

Sometimes it works
Sometimes it makes me despair
That I
Feeling no happier
Will never be content

Brings me down.
Ties me to mundane
And delivers me to boredom
Makes my head burn and my pride shrivel
Thinking takes all day
All night
And 8 hour shifts
When nothing happens
I sit
And dream
Of someplace else

Author's Notes/Comments: 

please ignore the lack of punctuation, feel free to comment

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My question

What is life?
Is it your memories of old,
Is it the actions of present,
Or is it the fear of the foretold?

What is age?
Is it the scars on your body,
Is it the winkles of skin,
Or is it the year on your ID?

What is time?
Is it the hands on the clock,
Is it the 4-digit year,
Or is it the thing that doesn't stop?

What is death?
Is it your result of living,
Is it the end,
Or is it your beginning?

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Cruel desert

Life is a mid-west desert
Scorching whenever it gets the chance.
Hardly any beings can truly bare the conditions,
No relief in sight.
Extensive days and very cool nights wait.
But my mind is an oasis.
In these unforgiving realities,
Thoughts shade the harsh rays.
Keeping me trapped in a retreat.
I forget to notice the desert sand,
And the world seems less cruel.

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A Walk in the Forest




Auburn were the leaves upon the ground
rich shades of yellow, red and brown
'ere as the sun rays warmly shone
upon a grassy, leaf-lit hill.


And quiet fell upon the lake,
save for the whisper of the wind,
the cricket's call and hum of bees -
and then the strange loon's cry.


And there lingered in the air, a scent -
a passing thought that thrilled my soul
as sun rays filtered through siloutted trees,

and warmed my skin.


I was content to lose my worries...

to this solitude.

Me, the silent philosopher...
and so I stood and pondered.


There stood an aged sycamore,
towering among other trees
with arms reaching out, heavenward.


In quiet protest to the world's wounded ways

and yet content to praise God for beauty -
knowing that, which others simply did not know.



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Like a shiny demigod, you stand here before me with unconcerned eyes beaming down into the depths of all I am, but you’re blind and I can’t seem to find the will to help you-- I don’t care to. I’ll let you struggle and always think you know when even I can’t know. There’s a dynamic flow in everything and it’s everywhere, but still from somewhere a selfish, stagnant force fights for dictation, and gets stuck at ideation. We get stuck at identification and separate you from me. We’re isolating and decimating, contemplating and waiting for some external action to save us.
Failing to see the unity, schisms fracture Love and disrupt Peace. Quakes of arrogant desire believe their imagined lies to confine their own lives strict within the cage of fearful ignorance, securing us in sensation and fenced in selective cohesion. Reason is a thing oft in neglect, associated with only the intellect, a mere man, amassing “facts.” Think about your knowledge and realize it’s aged, already stale (naturally technique and recipe remain). We can’t know NOW, and therefore can’t measure it. With no labels, now is new, infinitely unknown… This is now. This is all there is and all I am, but not me. There is no will, therefore no actor. There is no I… There is this moment….and here, accordance with the harmony of reality occurs. “I” don’t love. Here, there is Love, Peace, and Freedom, the lack of all self. Nothing is here, but here is everything.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment

Complicity Life

Cuz I be thinking & I've been thinkin // life is too short & more complex then we be thinkin // life is like a bitch that every niqqa be feelin // we hurt her feelins & that's wen she starts to tearing // I get my tear in & I start blinking // seeing life in many colors I be linking // it was like if u opened ur eyes while u was sinking // a new world in front of ur eyes u try drinking // thinking you full but yet u really shrinking // the weight of the water be leaving u all stressed // it be feeling like dat HD blue ray stinging u in the chest // the poison slowly feeds buts it's slow to ingest // that's why every part of me is fast to address // cuz every second of life is time to impress // to progress into something at best // to express & confess leaving things at arms rest // being true to myself fighting wearing my belt // being good at my feet // finding & dinning da treats // this a concrete jungle // I'm jus killing to eat // thriving, striving, surviving, & driving to see // arriving at this world dats still unclear to me.


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Charred thoughts

Knowledge. Flammable.
It burns for eternity,
lighting up the sky.

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Can’t stop

Can’t stop thinking

Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you


Always wondering

I always wonder

I always wonder if you think


If you think

If you think about me

If you think about us


How can I

How can I feel

How can I feel so much


So much

So much for you

So much for you it hurts



Written on

September 15, 2005

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This one was written to Paul.

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