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Tearing through the paper thin walls of a sickness,
To combat an existance,
System so wreakless,
So check this,
An interesting predicament,
Climb in and get sick in it,
Then try to live with it,
There come a point when there's no forgiving it,
Or forgetting it,
How many?,
Pinching pennies,
When there are so many with too many,
You sleep wrapped in satin sheets,
While some search for a comfortable spot in the streets,
Digging in the trash to find something to eat,
When a dollar in change feels like your ships come in,
The outlook is grim,
You can't help but notice the mess we're in. 

While the madness consumes,
I conspire to illuminate the darkened
regions,
They are only as deep as the
lesions,
I am many for I am legion,
I am demons,
It's never hard for me to connect,
I've got this surge protector
implanted in my neck,
Designed to protect me,
Not to correct me,
Now don't you see,
Covered but nude,
I am angry and rude,
Tomorrow belongs to the mindless,
Single celled and spineless,
One grows sick,
From dealing with conflict,
Life is so enjoyable,
When you're nothing but an addict,
Forget it all,
Throw your cares to the air,
We were real and we were there,
Parasites,
Unable to sleep at night,
Holding our head high,
Till we remember how it was we
were supposed to die,
In the end we will all be forgotten,
Decay sets in,
We all end up rotten.

Unavoidable
I face reality and the stinch that exudes
From even the smallest crevaces
Undertones of raw emotions
And open opinions humble me
Keeping even the proudest of mind
In its place
In hopes I will always acknowledge
That which I do not know

This world is our throne
and when you find me in slumber
remember our love
mirror reflecting roses entwined with serpents
forever ours...
and when the stars scream murder hear my voice

Drink of me til I'm ill
perch  sounds
nectar
creatures in vain
the scab of something sweet
peel back its dead
devouring the sea as it swallows me whole

Working for someone else’s dream, a loss of self esteem.

So much life lost, systematically forced into someone else’s cast.

The true abilities of our being may never be explored at this rate.

We may all be subjected to the same fate.

But, with motivation at such a high mortality rate , it’s hard for the majority to escape.

With chaos proving the need for leadership, someone or something, to regulate for the incapable.

This chosen leader, no matter what their position among the hierarchy, should put themselves last.

That is proper utilization of power, without abuse or misuse.

Just existing, ones entitled to mistakes.  It’s the learning process which leads to success in self efficiency, without transparency.

	No one has refilled the cup which continues to spill.

	Equality is ready and willing for the one who is ready to stop the global chilling.

	Laziness will never prevail, it will only be a tactic which will fail.

	Capitalism leaves so many innocents to rot in a physical and mental jail.

	No one can continue to belligerently adjudicate the frail, without degenerating end trails.  

	For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

	Due to repetitive traction and corrosive reaction, there’s only so much time before oppression and depression reach their threshold and release retaliation.

	Rising against mental malnutrition a totally different institution brought by insurrection, in a positive direction; without passive gravitating towards aggressive.

This teacher shouldn’t be neglective, but subjective to the cause, the people the very tip of the needle.

	Small in itself, yet the most piercingly impactual.

	This is representational of a revolutionary tactile.

	When going against the grain you inevitably file down the acute edges, leaving minute traces of a previously jagged existence.

	It takes persistence to let the people go.

	Action cannot be subtle to build out of the rubble and if we decide to do nothing the world’s going to be in a lot of trouble.

	Everything’s out of focus, so it’s time to reanalyze and not scrutinize any ideas prematurely.

	This will certainly be a more lucrative direction than our current disgusting complexion.

	This is my interjection upon this situation, that we are all living through.

	A contemporary abomination; many people need an enlightened revelation, or this whole world will be subjected to a brutal cremation. 

writers block has become my excuse
while the trials of truth erupt [with
this depression].
I am congested with too much negative emotion
while the sky I sit under has a different setting

I found a new wrinkle today
it’s long and linear
I don’t see it as warm and familiar.
I am sad; but excited…
Not sure what it means?
It sure is strange. To see something appear
something that wasn’t there before.

I found a new wrinkle today

Or rather, it found me.
came to my home,
didn’t even bother to knock on my door
   I guess I am glad it’s doesn’t hurt
this wrinkle isn’t sore
   I’m not sure what it means
I’m more mature?
   I overstand more?
Or maybe it doesn’t mean anything.
……………………… anyways, I got a new wrinkle today,
I made me feel a certain way and
I would just like to feel the comfort of being o.k.

Vacuum sealed music
In conjunction with heartbeats
Following the path of the aftermath
Soaring above songs
Known presence quiet being, frequency
Blind foresight of muted might
Strung in unison

What grasp you, silent planet?
I thought there was silence here?
Ricocheting off of telephone polls
Ringing back and forth
To pick this right up where there was nothing
Or perhaps an empty expectation?
What you thought you may have seen
Or what you are, or are starting to notice
Back when there was music here,
Before the static took over
Looking sleepily into a distant dream
I myself begin to notice
How hazy this world has become
How more and more can hardly grasp
What this is that we are doing
Hardly a shape that we can’t make
With these lines coming into focus
Back one way and into another

Whatever happened to ONE tribe?
What in this world are we pursuing?
With all these buffers between us
And what we are experiencing
Have we forsaken the touch that has brought us here in the first place?
The intimacy in the truly sensual experience
What, am I too blind to see?

The movement of particles that sends spine tingles.  
The elasticity of energy. 
 Where we put ourselves, and where we decide to be. 
 Feeling this intense vibration and how it relates you to me. 
 A passing of hands to the swiftest of beats. 
 Knowledge of what it is we truly seek,
 to become fruitful in Life’s garden or move and fade like shadows in space.          Learning to speak once more, to accept what they teach.  
 How they allow us to manipulate, with the bills and laws we are left to debate.  How well off are we, left here to insolate? 
Which direction should we go now?  
What meaning should we give this?
Who do we look for sense of guidance? 
Why do we look?
And how will we ever know for sure???

I am sure we will get a feeling
I am sure there will be a tone
A sense of peace and understanding
A sense of never being left alone

This echo, reverberating
Back to us from our truest home
Melodic mayhem mingling mind with body
And gently sprinkling over the essence of spirit
Entrancing all with the breath of escape
The movement of our energies embraced
To expand into the emotion that we create
BEING. 

Instantly opened,
interrupted once again.
All thoughts wished
to keep the lego pieces together.

Listen to the noise,
hammering the nail deep within.
“Enough!”, screams the brain,
but it’s cries unheard.
The arm and hand work together.

Still trying to pick the puzzle pieces
that will fit and continue,
what was there moments ago.

Crash!, projected through the 
particles at speeds unheard,
now we will see 
if it’s structure will hold.

Shattered, left with pieces 
and nothing to hold this sand.
Now, will it decide to rise
or sift through the sand.
The question echoes as if it’s trying
to find the answer hidden along
it’s path.

A couple turns might 
help to calm the brain.
But, that nail is still 
stuck within and as if someone was 
gently flicking the top;
a slight piercing pain continues
the chain.

Link by link lost again.
Maybe one day
the links will unite.
Still yearning for today.
Most dread the sound 
that turns the page.

Everything is collected, but 
not in order.
That is another feat of it’s own.

Successfully the piercing sound
played its role.
Yet the brain still had 
to pay a toll .  The toll
might be reimbursed, but 
it will never be what it was at first.

All that’s left,
scattered empty holes.
All due to the noise 
that begins.