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Hello to all and welcome to my home page!

First a little about me

My name is Joe I am a truck driver but what I am passionate about is writing. I am a hopeful romantic. Along with a small mission to change the world, I consider myself a poet, a philosopher and a man with a passion that cannot be easily extinguished. Certain occurrences in my life have tried to harden me but I keep bouncing back. I read a lot and write even more so I will publish my own work on here take it for what it is, a way to express myself and get through this journey that we are all sharing a ride on. I will try to keep it updated as much as possible. I am, of course, interested in many other things but this page is meant for the explaination of my belief of Imeism.

About the page

This page was made as a place to find out a little more about Imeism. Imeism was a concept I developed in high school, to try to express where I thought my place was in this creation. It became a forum for discussion in some circles, a call to action in others. Extremists found it threatening and before finding out what it was, condemned it. Some people, who were just looking for something to hold on to, rallied behind it but never took the time to research it to find out what they were rallying behind.

It started with a basic concept of why do I have to be someone I'm not to get through life. I am me! Hence the name, but that was only the jumping off point. That's where most people stop looking. Imeism became a mission to not only declare myself as to who I was but to make a trail that could be followed and to evolve my person into something extraordinary. Later I moved into changing the paradigm and trying to open the eyes of some very confused people. Where do I get off thinking I could do this? Because I was one of the confused, and I have been at times since.

Imeism is a belief in the individual, but the individual as a part of a system. This system interconnects us with everyone and everything. As a part of this interconnectedness, everything we do has an effect on everything around us. We are scared by our inadequacies, but being deceitful is the one way to push ourselves even further into our hole instead of reaching forward and uniting.

There is no end to the anguish society puts on the individual. Society sees the individual as wet plaster to be poured into a predisposed mold to be hardened into a shape that fits into there designed machine that will produce more plaster. Every now and then some plaster gets out of the mold and has its own individual aura. This piece of plaster is immediately labeled defective, rebel, trouble, reject. Well, this plaster is the plaster that holds the world together. There are to many masons out there forging this plaster into conformity. Let people be who they are. They have a station and purpose in life, as do we all.

Have you ever gotten a member of a large group alone and they tell you what they really think? You are now dealing with an individual, someone with their own ideas and desires. This one person is part of a group so large that the voice of this individual can no longer be heard. They are afraid to upset the herd so what ever they believe comes second, or not at all. It's like a bucket of crabs, as soon as one gets to the top and gets ready to get out, the others pull it back in. After a while, why struggle. The rewards for getting out are tremendous and the people you meet on he outside are the people you will have true relationships with.

Our lives are more than a series of jobs or bills. The theory of live, work, grow old die does not sit well with me. There is more to what we can accomplish than that. We tend to get caught in the "I need" syndrome. "I need" to make more money, "I need" to get a new car. The truth is that is what we want not what we need. To get a new car your going to need more money, to get more money your going to have to spend more time working, which will take away from doing the things that could make us extraordinary. When we do get the time what do we do with it, flip on the TV. Television sucks the life and energy and even thoughts right out of our heads and we go to it with a smile on our face.

This page is for myself as much as it is for anyone, so when I start to get a little lost I can find my way back again. I am on a quest to be a great person. That quest is very difficult for someone to do. Not very many people have done it in the history of the world. But how can a man become something like that? By actually getting off of his hands and making his life mean something. This page is another step in that direction.

There are so many obstacles on our path that get us turned around and we lose perspective and forget where we were going and why we were going there. The little things will always be there. Don't get fixated on them just walk over them. Easy for me to say? I've been there, I've done that. I've tried to ruin my opportunities more than most people by rationalizing what I "had to do." Believe me there is a path out of the darkness. If nothing else, my hand is there.

We ignore the beauty and splendor of nature as we hurry by trying to get ahead. Living our mundane lives, never stopping to see what's out there, to understand why we work to begin with. Spending the majority of our time working so one day we won't have to. Wasting the most quality and useful time of our lives stressed out about how we will be able to afford the things we've already bought. Day after day we miss the miracle of life, the wondrous world that lies around us. We forget that our time here is very short and that we should not be wasting it as servant to the daily grind. We have the ability to be so much more.

I was asked of my belief in a greater power. I believe in God. There are undeniable forces in the universe. The mere fact that energy cannot cease to exist shows that there must be something more...but what? I believe that the quest for this is the joy that makes life fun. Many unfortunate circumstances have happened to me, yet the growth comes from knowing that if it could be worse than its not that bad and it can always be worse. I've been beaten almost to death but I grew from it. I had my heart smashed but now I truly know what love is. I've had people very close to me die, they suffer no more, their journey is complete. We are the ones who continue the quest. Don't get stuck in your single stage, strive to be extraordinary and you will be happy.

As far as God goes I believe in a greater power. I don't know its name, origin or gender, but I'm looking, and I believe that it wants me to look. To look everywhere and develop thoughts and theories and talk to people and get them looking too. In a nutshell, that's my views on God. I think it approves.

We search for imperfections in the world as if at a magic show, looking at god as some magician whose tricks are so good we can't figure them out. Always we look for the secret, why it is an illusion. We look for the wires and the trap door never quite excepting it for what it is.

My life is my own and I impact it by my choices. These choices are similar to channel surfing. I watch what I want to when I want to. If one channel is not giving me what I need than I move to a new channel. In the same respect I choose who I am by the different paths I venture down. Each path can take me into new directions or return me to places I've already visited. There is always a choice. We sometimes make the wrong choices but that does not mean we can't change our direction, it is just a lot more difficult to cross over. Between these paths are thickets and thorn bushes. The crossing will be painful and to go back to the wrong path would be easier but than the pain would be for nothing and you’re still stuck on the wrong path. Lord knows I have my share of scars from my many path changes. Sometimes I feel the scars and calluses have hardened me, sometimes it makes me question my journey and the paths I've chosen. But for the first time I truly feel I know where I'm going and I have a map to get there. The magical world in front of me is fun and entertaining. I will except the miracle of life and enjoy the show without wondering where the wires and trap doors are. The show is free and I'm having fun.

What poetry is and has been to me

What is poetry? Poetry is a means of expression that allows a person to extract meaning from a seemingly meaningless object or occurrence. Writing poetry is for a wordsmith who needs a forum for expression that goes beyond normal conversation. A poet is someone who is tired of the miss use of words for emotions. The word love has been sold out in commercial advertising so often that the word has lost its luster. How someone could use the same word that is used to describe a dishwashing liquid, to describe their feelings for me is unconscionable. Poetry is passion!

Edwin Robinson wrote of a man named Richard Cory. Richard was a man with seemingly everything going for him. The cover of the book looked good but the plot was weak. When I was 22 years old I was overweight, getting ready to go through a divorce, and what I thought to be my career was folding in front of my eyes. I was uneducated and had no visible future and I was alienated from my friends and family. What made me such an incredible asset to business is that I was a great actor. I looked and acted like I was on top of the world and that no matter where I was, it was the place to be. I could glad hand a customer even though my guts were laying on the floor in front me. Richard glad handed his customers also "...he fluttered pulses when he said good morning..." meanwhile his guts were laying on the floor, so much so that " calm summer night..." he went home and shot himself.

Robert Frost spoke of being Acquainted with the Night, I too have "...walked out in rain - and back in rain..." In my transition from overweight, under confidant, uneducated drone to lean, exceedingly confidant, well read, man, I walked in the rain too many times, stepping into puddles the size of oceans. Like crying over spilt milk or cursing the rain, I heard the proclamation that "...time was neither wrong nor right..." After my divorce I needed to find a way to become self-sufficient. I reverted back to doing something that I vowed I would never do again, but I rationalized it out into something I had to do to survive. I put on my coat and "...walked out in the rain..."

This was my darkest era when there was no emotion only negativity. I always thought it would be cool to have a "don't mess with him attitude." I was wrong, it created a loneliness I had never imagined.

E.E. Cummings made it as clear as day to me in l(a. I was never as alone as when I was falling. I would be alone no matter how many people were around, most of my so called friends were with me for the exposure or the drugs. But as Stephen Crane said in A Man Said to the Universe the universe owed me nothing. I had forgotten the reason I had started this whole journey. Instead of becoming self- sufficient, I had become dependant and lost the small piece of dignity that I had once possessed.

The life I had been leading was actually no life at all. One day every thing was going horrible with no change of direction in site. I was confused and felt that life had no purpose. I was headed for Richard Cory's destiny. Nobody in my family knew what was going on, my day job thought I was gods gift, and my customers thought that I had the world by the short hairs...but they were wrong.

On a early Spring morning I took a walk down my street, after one block I realized that I had never even known the next streets name, for I had never taken a walk in my own neighborhood before. I walked for over an hour discovering little things on the way. Children were playing in the street in front of a house not unlike the one I had grown up in. "These children have no idea what's in store for them when they grow up." I thought. I was wrong, it was me who had no idea was I was in store for. I had no direction, was living for the moment, millions of people had life ten times harder than I did and still were reaching for something more.

I needed an outlet and my outlet came through reading and writing. Identifying with other writers and seeing their poetic expression showed me a world that at the time was unknown to me. I went to Virginia Kendall State Park where I sat down on some cliffs that looked out over the Cuyahoga Valley. I knew that hundreds of years ago some young brave, crashing from a night of mushrooms, had contemplated his reason for existence. Which meant to me that maybe there were people in the past who shared my anguish. Maybe if I wrote down how I felt and how I eventually made it through it, someone might read it and find their own way through this labyrinth we call life. Walt Whitman said in Poets To Come " Not to-day is to justify me and answer for what I am for, / But you, a new brood...must justify me."

I started with Ralph Waldo Emerson's Nature, who showed me the difference in what he called "...integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects." Which goes beyond normal conversation, but leaves you something to contemplate. He made this much more clear when he said "... it is this that distinguishes the sticks of timber of the woodcutter from the tree of the poet." Then, of course, Emerson led me to Henry David Thoreau, who took Emerson's theory from words on a page into life in practice. Once Thoreau took it so far that he was thrown in jail for tax evasion and Emerson came to see him. When Emerson asked "Henry what are you doing in there?" Thoreau replied "Ralph what are you doing out there?" as if to say you talk a good game but I am living it.

Shortly after this awakening I realized that there was so much to the world than my little section of it. The drug trade had nothing to offer me but a slow corrosion of my soul. I was feeding off the table of knowledge and for the first time in my life the food was good, so good that I couldn't get enough. I decided to go where the intelligent people hung out and that wasn't a bar. I Enrolled in college the next day, moved out of my house and into a more collegiate neighborhood, and began a new life away from those people who I once knew.

In college I realized that it is not a gathering place of intellectuals, just a place that gives you an opportunity to better yourself and give you a choice in what you want to be. I now write nearly everyday, not just to keep in mind where I am, but to let me know where I was and what it was like. Nostalgia is a seductive liar and it would be easy to look back and say to myself "it wasn't so bad" but I have it in my own writing exactly how bad it was. Walt Whitman wrote in Here The Frailest Leaves Of Me "Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them,/ and yet they expose me..."

My philosophies are my own as are my poems and people can read them and dispute them all they want. They can tear them apart to make them into what ever they want them to be and that is alright with me. I wrote them for myself and for others who can identify with the situation I was in. The burdens of the things I have done weigh heavy on my mind, but a burden is only a burden until you get used to it. People do not see my burden so they can not remind me of it. They do not know a lot about me, they do not know the fear of someone saying "Don't I know you from some where?"

My life is finally my own and it is much to the credit of the poets and writers before me that I am the man I am today. Walt Whitman also wrote in Poets To Come "I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future, / I but advance a moment only to wheel and hurry back into the darkness." I only hope that during my moment I can add one or two words that can have the affect on someone as profoundly as many writers and poets words have had on me.

A man in a guys world

Growing up I have been bombarded with what people call the "guy's life." The male species is divided into two separate but distinct categories. The two categories are often confused but the differences are as obvious as they are pertinent. As with all walks of life, it is easier to slap a label on an entire group rather than finding the diamonds in the rough. The categories I break us down into are between men and guys. To break this cycle of prejudice I offer this reasoning to help distinguish the man from the guy. All males are driven by instinct. What separates us from mere animals is that we have the ability to control our instincts by use of our free will to overcome primary urges. Guys are more susceptible to these urges than are men. Guys refuse to think their actions through; whereas men look at the consequences of their actions. Men think, guys react.

All males have a strong yearning for acceptance; therefore they are susceptible to outside influence. Guys tend to be subject to their environment, blindly following the crowd like lemmings off a cliff. Men are independent and confident in who they are. Not having to be on the run or with another male to be who they are. Both want acceptance and have desires for companionship. Unfortunately a guys longing becomes self consuming, always afraid to be alone. A man's desire is something more controlled and becomes something he looks forward to. To put it bluntly, guys are followers men are leaders.

Goals are something males also share. It is merely the distance into the future that differentiates the man from the guy. A guy's goals will usually be short term. Men have short-term goals leading them to an ultimate agenda, a way to make life extraordinary. Men have a plan, guys have a play. A goal to a man is a target; to a guy it is more of a due date. The way males deal with the opposite sex is the area of greatest differentiation. All heterosexual males have a yearning for female companionship. The guy sees this yearning as a conquest, something to achieve, conquer and then move on to the next battle. This "battle" falls under the adage that all is fair in love and war. They will lie cheat and steal to take the flag. Guys are infatuated and obsessive. They have an urge and will do what they can to fulfill it. Men, on the other hand, are passionate and romantic. A real man is not afraid of commitment or to show his real feelings. A man has convictions and follows through with them. A man is not afraid of being who is no matter what the crowd says.

A man loves, a guy lusts. A man sees sex as the ultimate form of sharing; a guy sees it as the prize at the end of a torturous quest. Guys consider women as possessions to be used as tools until something better or more convenient comes along. To a true man women are friends with whom you wish to find just one to share your entire life with, in every aspect.

Guys change with their surroundings because they are not sure who they are and are afraid they will not be accepted by the status quo. Men are comfortable with who they are and people respect them for it. Guys tend to think they will be respected if they ridicule the outsider. Men are often singled out for their individuality, they are considered different therefore browbeaten by the common guy.

A man is patient to find a monogamous relationship that will last, one that has positive potential. There are multitudes of guys in the world but finding that ever-elusive man is a noble quest, one that is endlessly rewarding.

Some of my work




The Artist

As I drive through the gloom before me I feel the darkness of depression The sky is a dreary gray The rain is cold The air Because of the sharp wind Is brisk My attitude is torpid I have begun the interrogation of myself I don't care for what I find I know what I want But patience is not one of my greatest qualities I turn on the radio But that does not seem to help My mind wanders to all my inadequacies I seem hopelessly engulfed by the whirlpool of life Destined by some fateful prophecy To lie with all the other discarded waste Suddenly I snap back from my self-depression I realize that I am driving on the highway My body knew where it was going Even without my minds constant vigilance I notice It has stopped raining The wind has died down I remember thinking that the gloomy weather wouldn’t cease At that time I was drenched and cold I knew that I had six more hours of work left Before returning to my hermitage Unexpectedly the clouds give way A window forms for the sun to peek through The rays blasts an infinite amount of pastel colors Against a canvass that reaches the limits of the horizon I pull my vehicle to the side of a construction riddled highway Being bombarded by the shrieks of horns That come from the servants of the daily grind Obviously this message is just for me Or Is it that the lemmings have their blinders on so tight That they refuse to heed this communique I leave my car and I am awestruck Never have I seen such beauty Never Each cloud was different Each direction had a new wonder and beauty Everywhere I looked was a new surprise To the north there were light pink clouds Each cloud looked as if there were brush marks The clouds were layered As if a brush was rolled rhythmically Definition seemed to be added with slight purples and hints of blue To the west Where the clouds gave the opening to the sun It looked like a curtain That someone stuck their hands through to create an opening to look through As if this master artist decided he needed a little more light The clouds to the west Look more like they were sculpted instead of drawn They are all white Different shades of white But white just the same The edges are rounded The grooves are dark As if to show depth To the southeast Are streaks of pastels Obviously the artist had studied the many styles of the great masters The clouds show slight greenish tones A little red was used It appeared as if it took decades to produce When it actually appeared in mealy seconds As hundreds of cars drive by I realize that these people are missing this I want to make them all stop To see the work produced by this wonderful artist But wait Maybe this message is just for me In the beginning of the day My world was wrong My life seemed to be getting worse by the day all month long At some point My life had turned on a dime And plummeted towards the sewer Every time things would look up I would fall into a deeper hole But just when they seemed there worst A master painter/sculptor made me see This too shall pass

The Vessel

A bend in the road or a path not taken An opportunity missed or a choice A dictation of where our future lies Or an ocean sky with only the stars to chart our direction More to life than mortality More possibility than probability Restrictions on the self some say are chains on the free spirit But they show the integrity of the vessel A vessel that has a destination Not designated by the wind But by the captain

Like As Do When

Like the taste of a crisp wine Like the feel of a satin pillow Like the sound of an alto sax Is the touch of my loves skin As the fire at the heart of a flame, ever hot As the winds of the fall monsoon, sometimes overwhelming As the tides of the Mexican ocean, warm yet ever changing Is the passion and the love of our awaited union Do the trees wilt when sown upon unfavorable ground Do the tides cease their drive when obstacles appear Do the blades of grass stop their growth when repeatedly cut Nor will my quest yield till I find my soul mate When patience meets joy When confidence meets destiny When anticipation meets truth When my life meets yours Our life begins

The Revelation

The turmoil's of life seek to extinguish the passion that burns in my soul I struggle to overcome these obstacles So that I may find a peaceful yet passionate coexistence with this life I look forward to the challenges yet proposed I dream of great things to come Yet fear unexpected twists I curse past chances not taken and pray for new ones I hope they will not be thrown aside to common spontaneous pleasures Enjoyable for the moment Yet mean nothing to the future nor drive any passion They take no true thought I grow neither spiritually or mentally My search is no longer for incoherence I seek happiness Not for the moment But forever To do so I need extreme self-motivation A new dedication that can propel me towards my new goal I want to push myself beyond pleasures of the moment To be able to help myself achieve the goals I search for To once again pull myself from the mud my life seems to get stuck in To finally enjoy a reality of beauty and wonder for life and nature

The Endless Battle

On a path of leaves I walk through the forest in the fall Wandering in the valley of the sirens I listen for a songbird Fighting an invisible dragon with blinders on Searching for some weakness in its impenetrable armor Ghasts laugh at my struggle as they plot for the next time we will meet It will be tonight as I dream weary of the conscious battle I sleep It is then that the demons of my past will rise from their caskets Buried deep within Imprisoned by myself Enshrined with crosses and chains But there is no security from them I awaken scarred from the unconscious battle Searching for some reason for their reemergence Some hidden meaning Maybe a sign to show me the new direction Or is it possibly a ball and chain attached to me by a mystic court For crimes against the moral fiber that holds the "good" people together The blood from past confrontations stains my soul And taints the perception of myself My scars are constant reminders of my past ventures It is the pain that constantly encompasses me For regret is the wound that never heals The battle rages on I beat them back into submission Back into their caskets Back into the blackness The counter offensive is eminent All I can do is prepare Fix my armor Bind my wounds I do not know when they will return I just wait


My eyes are closed and I am alone I feel you My solitude is consuming at times I know you feel me The past haunts me and sometimes I can't think Your presence brings me peace My soul is a machine but it is silent You are the small piece that the machine that can start it working My future is bright but sits on the horizon You are my compass I know you’re out there Meet me half way Our life together is waiting

The cellar

Back home after a lovely evening of dining with friends Wonderful conversation And even possible plans for our forever We laugh and kiss each other expressing ourselves as only we can I stroke your hair and back till you fall gracefully to slumber I thank God for our love and our evening I fall asleep happy in bed The billowed softness of my down comforter One arm under my pillow the other around your waist I feel warm....even perfect The pleasantry of slumber is abruptly dashed I am on a cold dark dank concrete floor....alone No blanket, no comfort, no you I call for you But you do not answer I hear familiar voices on the floor above Their conversation is light and pleasant I yell till my throat hurts “You know me!” I yell “Let me out” Bang! Bang! Bang! I pound until my hands bleed Punching the walls Kicking with no affect But they don't even break their conversation What happened Why do they not help me What did I do Where did you go How did I get here When will it end A prisoner without reason Persecuted for unknown crimes As the minutes turn to hours The hours into days And the tears turn to stone I get used to my new surroundings I can see in the darkness I get an understanding for the vermin I share this hobble Given food on occasion Something to sustain But nothing to quench either hunger or thirst I can live like this No unexpected horror down here Something comfortable about being on the bottom rung If I fall again I won’t fall far Over time I will get used to this hardship Just as any other The burden is only heavy until I get used to the weight One day I hear an unexpected sound The cellar door opens I hear a warm familiar voice say “Are you coming up, dinners ready” I squint at the unaccustomed light “Unless you want to stay down there” “Coming” I say “Go clean up before dinner” Everyone one I know is there People talk to me as if it was just another day and nothing had happened But it had I take a shower The warm water seemingly fills my soul as well as my pours I never thought a shower could feel so good Some shampoo falls into my eye So accustomed to pain the sting is almost pleasurable “Maybe now I’m dreaming” I thought Before dinner I find time to get some things together in a box Books, paper, a small shovel I take them to the cellar Just in case Dinner is phenomenal Listening actual conversation is wonderful While finishing dinner the front door opens You walk in My heart falls to my stomach As those stone tears liquefy I don’t know what to say to anyone What if nothing really happened and it was all a bad hallucination I don’t want to go back to the cellar I don’t want to rock the boat I test the waters “What are our plans for this weekend” I say “I thought we would go downtown, see a show and check out the museum” you reply “Both of us?” “...of course, silly” We retire to bed I make love to you, seemingly for the first time in months Tears stream down my face You ask “what’s wrong?” “I love you” I say “...and I never want us to be apart.” “I love you too.” She said “Are you sure you’re alright?” “I can’t remember being better” It is like we never skipped a beat Everything is as it was I’m perfect again I try to stay awake But the comfort of the bed overcomes me I awake shivering I don’t open my eyes for I know where I am Another cruel trick How can they live with themselves playing with me like this “If you must keep me here I don’t want to know the other side Leave me be!!!” Now my slumbers dwell on that one short moment in time That small second helping The warmth you gave The water that is leaking out of my soul as fast as it was filled My eyes, even though familiar, take time to readjust to the darkness I go through the yelling, beating, and crying ritual once again It doesn’t take near as long to get the picture this time My waking moments are spent digging When not digging I try to write in the darkness Promising my self never again My digging takes away my anger My writing stores and feeds my passion The books show me that the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t always a train Once my tunnel finds light I run With my few minor possessions I run Run for freedom Run for life Run for a new start Away from so called friends Away from family Away from all that I knew Leading my new life in solitude On the third floor with no cellar No one knows me so no one can hurt me But now I imprison myself I am the one locking myself in the attic instead of the cellar Only feeding myself to sustain Not to nourish The thoughts of this being my life have surfaced again I have to learn to care for my wounds so they heal properly I retreat to my books and poetry shows my how My own as well as others That the ability to feel love is the gift from God Love is the gift another person gives That there is another person who could find worth in me That I am lovable And that I need to give the world a chance to do just that Or I will be my own jailer and task master and torturer


My love for you will never end It is as ageless as it is timeless There is a destiny or fate if you will That bonds our souls together My love for you is like my soul I can not physically touch it or see it or control it But it encompasses my entire being It makes me who I am You are the lost piece that I've been searching for The great things that happen to me Are not great if you are not there to share them with The great things that are going to happen to me Will only be so if you are there If not than it will be just another thing Something that could have been better The thought of smelling your hair Starring at your face as you sleep Gently stroking your soft back Brings back feelings that I never thought would return I wake up in the morning wondering if your up I go to sleep wondering what your dreaming of I dream of our future together Waiting for you is the labor When you come the world will fade

Show me the light

I wonder at the mysteries of my soul How it feels what it feels Why it recognizes certain familiarities or things that can't be seen by the naked eye Why am I so filled with joy at the prospect of talking to you That's why I know when I find you We'll be together forever When I see my future there you are It seems like there was no past that did not include you When I wake from my dreams and see you in my arms my life will begin When the time starts and my reality turns to our reality Life becomes whole and our dreams become the light we see by

Just Another Day

The night air is brisk, the skies dark, the only illumination is the multitude of stars and the seemingly bright moonlight. The sounds of the night almost rhythmic, as if each insect and animal awaited its turn in the night time symphony. In the distance, the horizon begins to glow as the stars begin to fade as if on cue. Their time is done for now. Still, some of the more stubborn stars stick around until forced to retire. The horizon begins to turn orangish-red as the dawn arrives. A glowing disc on the horizon radiates and sparkles off the dew that covers the grass. The dawn awakens a chorus of birds which begin singing as if orchestrated by God itself. With the sunrise comes an array of colors that when viewed intently, will awe struck the most hardened heart. The sunrise brings a clear blue sky with streaks of white that the most accomplished artist could not duplicate. These streaks stretch as far as the eye can see. They seem endless, colliding with the horizon as if joined at some far off point. As morning becomes mid-day, white billowing clouds appear like a slow moving herd of animals, marching across the sky on parade. When the herd moves into the sun lights path, a darkness blankets all around. The cloud is illuminated and the anticipation of the warmth swells. Finally, like a blanket being slowly lifted, the sunlight creeps back in. The sun begins its slow retreat as the skies and clouds begin to shed their bright whites and blues, for their pastel reds and purples. The longer you look, the more you can see how truly beautiful it all really is. The suns retreat is complete, night returns and the day is done.

The choices we make dictate the life we lead

Damned by sleep hallucinations Sleep hallucinations that drive you to edges Edges of cliffs that fall into previous realities Realities that were created by some stranger A stranger who lurks inside me somewhere Somewhere I believe I had abolished Abolished by my own desire for it to be gone Gone but to a place deep within myself Myself being the person I had created Created with the choices I made Made because of my own misunderstandings Misunderstandings that allowed me to believe in what I was doing Doing things unconscionable Unconscionable because good people wouldn't make those choices Those choices dictated the life I lead Leading me to my sleep hallucinations

Pick-up Lines

Something new Something strange Something rare A few words originated for the purpose Some good Some bad A master for words could use this tool But what master would he be What gift used for such a purpose What life is led With that as your purpose Life is bigger The true art lies in confidence Making yourself seem more than you are By unconsciously showing ourselves fallaciously We must re-pour the foundation already hardened It is the pursuit of the moment But misses the point Passion is the food of the soul But passion without love is merely a snack Love without passion is starvation Where is the achievement of the writer Maybe like the professor What you can not do You teach

Compass Free

Floating on a tranquil sea The hot sun beaming down Pondering how it came to pass That through such a wicked storm You still master your vessel You recall the days of your youth Venturing onto the sea for the first time Paying no head to the traditional routes The water had challenged you You answered You charted your own course Never heeding much to one charted for you Pitching your sails you created your own destiny Surviving everything the oceans could throw at you Finding joy and beauty Experiencing fear and hate Anger for what the sea has taken from you Appreciation for what it has given Always driving into the waves Never to be dictated as to where you could go You stand stretch and look out towards the horizon Looking back to see where you have been Wondering how you have gotten as far as you did You feel the breeze on your neck and you smile Covering more of the sea than most Venturing into unknown and at times unsafe waters Your family and friends await you on land As the port comes into view Your heart swells for you now realize what you have accomplished

A Crippled View

A crippled view of a handicapped world Fate and consequence is the ironic price we pay For desires and hopes for happiness Desires and hopes are distorted visions and hallucinations But dedication to such a hallucination Brings about a bliss immeasurable No one will understand it because they are blinded by their own miserability Dedication to such distorted visions is an addiction The drug is love and its yearning will follow you through life Once truly felt the desire for it never leaves To give into and follow your addiction Will alienate you from everyone you know For it is completely consuming and the consumption is completely self gratifying You’re in your own world of happiness and joy Until you’re forced back to reality Forced into a detox program that takes you out of your bliss And into the status miserability For like a bucket of crabs The people at the bottom only survive By pulling those at the top back down to the bottom Allowing no one to succeed for long


Better person, Better man Cyclical bleakness dulls the razors edge Golden horizons, clear blue sky Missed opportunities prevent greatness Dark dreams, tattered conscious Pain hurts but keeps us awake To the ideas of what we refuse to be To doze off momentarily will cause Months of work to be for nothing

The Voyage

Viewing the voyage of my life I fear my trips might be in vain Watching the changes in the tides Improving from whence I came Watching people watch me sail They're wondering of my ends I'm looking to make great things happen Sailing on the wind my spirit lends One port fading out of sight A new one coming into view The horizon is getting closer now My destination I wish I knew I have navigated many seas Paying consequences not much concern Watching my brethren pay the price For lessons they would not learn Bad decisions plague my mind My thoughts were so unclear The fog has lifted from my soul The voice of destiny I hear I see my future as my own In the past this was not so The horizon hands itself to me For I know now where I go


Passions dwell in small puddles in remote oasis' The droplets congregate to fill, In there own individual essence, Enough liquid to quench a soul forever Drenching the dehydrated skin that has wandered through a vast desert of longing Some stumble on the oasis by accident Some search forever never finding it Some do not believe it exists at all And some have drank And awakened to find it only a mirage The mirage is real enough to the beholder Real enough to dedicate their life to wandering in a lonesome desert Burning by day Freezing by night Vultures constantly circling awaiting the eventual fall Forsaken by society Or forsaking it for the dream The thought that it might just be out there Thought to be mad Will drink not but from the puddle Even if they die searching They know they would always be miserable Just thinking that it might have been over the next dune. DO NOT QUIT FIND YOUR OASIS DRINK AGAIN BE THIRSTY NO MORE

A woman of Substance

A woman of substance is someone who can intrigue me She makes me think as well as question For intelligence is very alluring A woman of substance can carry on a conversation without dominating it She wishes to receive information as well as express it For knowledge is a gift only if taken A woman of substance keeps fit mentally as well as physically She sees her body and mind as extensions of herself For these lead to a positive attitude A woman of substance is nonjudgmental She worries more about her own outlook than that of others For change starts with ones self A woman of substance is honest She builds life through truth For there is no foundation in dishonesty A woman of substance is independent She relies on no one for her persona For life is lost if not known A woman of substance is open minded She remains confidant without being arrogant for confidence allows room for compromise A woman of substance is as passionate as she is hard to find


Clouds engulf a clear blue sky Its anger is seen as a sense of fear of what nature could produce As you look in awe at the sheer power of the storm You see a break in the fury the size of a pinhole Through that pinhole in the ferocity of the storm you see a peaceful sky I see that life is merely perception When we are looking forward to the excitement of the unknown Even if it gives us its worst It is all just a commercial during a prime-time blue sky The limits of the horizon are always calm and beautiful Things can never be that bad for that long So when life seems to be giving you its worst Just look for that pinhole

Shadow Chasing

I will never walk alone A light shining from behind tells me your there I complain that you keep a piece of me and I miss it But the piece I hold of you I could never live without To wait or to grow Believe or know Wait and see or chase the shadow to your feet Once at your feet I will enter your soul And without taking what is rightfully mine Or relinquishing what I believe to be mine Our joy will once again be complete and my smile will return


The wind blows ice cold The flakes of snow As big as quarters fill the air Branches atop one of the trees rock Back and forth with the fury of the wind Clusters of leaves hold on with great intensity The last reminisce of summer holding on with desperation The snow blankets everything Giving a beauty only achievable by nature People scurry into action Inspired by some instinct Children build snowmen Teenagers have snowball fights Adults are out shoveling the driveway wondering what affect this will have on traffic I suppose these instinctions give us a peek at our personalities Children are carefree Building their snowmen and waxing the rails of their sleds All they see is the possibilities for fun Looking at life as a game Teen-agers see themselves as invincible Running around with coats unbuttoned Seeing the weather conditions as a challenge One that must be met head on Adults Already stuck in their daily routine Anguish over how this will affect their schedule Meanwhile I sit and stare Trying to soak up its magnificence Trying to burn this vision in my brain So that I may access this memory at a later date I wonder if there is a combination of all these types of people An aggregate of the ideas Some way of getting the realistic thoughts of the adult The toned down version of invincibility from the teenager And the fresh outlook of seeing the festivity of life from the children I suppose there are some people who do I wish I could find this non-extremist Individualistic passionate tribe People who see the beauty of life Someone whose passion burns as bright as mine An inextinguishable flame Acting as a lighthouse Sending a signal out into the ocean of people Hoping a similar person or group will pick up on my beacon To join me in my struggle to unify us

We move from difficult situation to difficult situation

We move from difficult situation to difficult situation Changing our perspective to fit them We can not keep switching who we are We liked who we were Not who we have become We were confidant, secure But lonely Now we are self-conscious, downhearted And still lonely We have some great memories Of some incredible moments Shared in a very short time Our loneliness leaves for the first time in years We love that And it makes us love them for taking it away When it comes back We have to readjust We fight it as hard as we can The fight will only hold us back Make it harder The hole deeper The bar higher Till no one can get over the walls we create

I dream of a new reality

I dream of a new reality Where my life began And where it shall end Dreaming of what existed Living what is real For some reason I see what is real But what I see is not others reality What is real to me others do not see I dream of a new day A day of a more common reality When a bigger picture is on the wall When the little things are swept under the rug For each it comes in different ways We have different visions So we need the assistance of focal lenses Once our vision is clear We do not understand how we got by so long Missing out on so many of the beauties of life I call it the finale But yet the play continues


Silence is the song of the day I scream it Inside emptiness, I scream it Ghosts shriek warnings The walls tell stories of joy unsurpassed When I look back I see the joy The pain has dissolved Withered by upcoming prospects I recall the last days The taste of her lingers on my tongue The scent of her body fills the air My soul feels her I feel resistance Possibly some transparent barrier Is it to keep you from being hurt ...or To keep you from feeling Is it keeping me out or you in Something so precious that it needs protected but not isolated Allow yourself to feel the joys that life has to offer The pain subsides when you let the current drift it away The longer you cling to your pain the farther from shore you get


The love of something with every ounce of your being An unending quest for more of what you enjoy most A feeling the effects your very soul It drives you to destinations you never imagined you could go It never ceases to amaze you It's the intensity that makes life enjoyable It's what dreams are made of It ties your stomach in knots and warms your heart It's what you look forward to and fondly remember It's something you hold sacred and never take advantage of It's something no one can take from you unless you willingly give it It is something that once you have truly felt it you believe in God Dreams can not compare to its reality It is passion It is what we live our lives for It is the basis for all emotion


A light in the darkness An intermittent glimpse as to the destination A vision of warning A beacon of life A view of hope I am not alone On a landless sea On a lifeless leviathan On a black filled night that the moon itself will not pierce On an seemingly endless voyage I see a light in the distance Anxious yet weary A light entrapped me on this ship I have grown used to the solitude But a companion would be nice Anybody alone is a genius But I want to be challenged I will never find what I seek If I refuse to look I am just a passenger on this ghost ship Being lead to where I want to be

I Have...

I have looked Exploring for pieces of my destiny We explore the limits of our vision We are always watching I have watched Searching is not an easy way We search for many reasons We have seen many things I have seen Finding anything is an uncertainty We find much that fills a need But wonder at the needs left unfilled I have wondered Contemplating the void that is not filled We contemplate silently But listen intently I have listened Piecing together small bits is how we create We piece together a melody One that must be heard I have heard Longing for finality We long to find the end of the song A song of exploration

The Crustation

The Crustation is soft and vulnerable On the inside But holds it's shell As protection When it grows beyond it's limitations It finds a larger compound with more room to seclude itself When it is outside its shell It is fully vulnerable But what a world of feeling it must experience When it is vulnerable What a desolate life it leads In between when it is hiding from that great moment That it sees while moving to its next desolation point Pain and suffering is a risk we take While finding our compound Is death so scary That we need to hide with only moments of freedom to see Maybe waiting for death in our shell Is the true death of our soul


A man wanders into a park trying to find some solution To his ever accumulating problems His self loathing was leading him down an unpleasant path Wandering through the park he finds himself on a trail And on that trail he finds a tree The tree had rooted itself over a rock Gripping it much like a boy would a baseball Though it looked like it was ready to fall over The tree was strong and sturdy Finding itself sown to a rocky terrain It found a way to be fruitful Though circumstances were not optimum Though things were not the best way they could be Even though other trees may have been given fertile soil The tree grew strong and healthy And probably has a stronger foundation then one sown to soft soil But most importantly this tree showed a confused man That his problems could actually be his strengths And that these strengths had uses And more over if life in any form can show perseverance Over such seemingly huge obstacles Than surely his problems comparatively were very insignificant

Quiet Lust

On a cold, quiet, star speckled night It seems like I can see forever into the sky It smells like winter It smells crisp A night when breathing is an effort A deep breath causes a pleasurable pain The air is some how fresher, cleaner, empowering Pulling in the air I need for life But my inhale is deliberate and hard The brisk air pierces my lungs And for a moment I don't breath Then I exhale


I wander and walk I wonder and I run I wander and I look I wonder and I see I wander and I listen I wonder and I hear When I walk I am open but aimless When I run I am reaching for something When I look I am observing When I see I have found something When I listen I hope When I hear I grow Wandering is observing Wondering is a way to find Wandering is based on filling emptiness Wondering is based on searching Wandering has no end Wondering has no end

The Assassin

Wondering if it was a gift or a curse An opportunity Or a penance I am still here and mobile and free But what now The street was black The rain is much lighter now At least I believe it to be For their are pools of water in the ruts of the street It is still early Around 3:30 a.m. The view is somehow distorted Something does not seem real But I watch as something begins to unfold I don't know if it was a flash of light Some sort of reflection that brought the person to my eye But there was a figure It was semi-concealed and for some reason did not notice me Which was particularly odd Being that I was in the middle of the street At the far end of the street A pair of headlights appear It activates the hidden figure I watch as the car awkwardly rambles down the street The car pulls in front of a small house Parks on the street Striking the curb sharply while doing so A man stumbles awkwardly out of his vehicle Fumbling with his keys Out of the darkness Three flashes permeate the area where the hidden figure hid The man from the car crumples to the ground Falling limp as though any piece of life was turned off Like a switch of light The door to his car still open The only noise I hear Is the sound of the door ajar alarm Paralyzed in fear I gauche in horror I recognize the victim I watched But now it seems the dark figure has noticed me Nothing else stirred The night is quiet once again The dark figure moves close I recognize him Its me As is the victim

The Marathon

I hate the marathon I am out of breath and tired But I still need to run To complete the race I continue to run never finding a finish line Rationalization tells me I am staying in shape My endurance grows My muscles strengthen But why am I running Is it for my well being Or am I being chased Fear is chasing So I chase myself My subconscious keeps me running Sometimes in circles like a crazed dog chasing his tail Never getting anywhere Just getting dizzy My words like a python constrict As long as I run The snake can not catch me I am a tree without roots The longer I stay uprooted The less chance I have for a future The running must stop I must halt the dog Pet him gently I must face the snake Show no fear I must allow my roots their chance to find soil The Marathon is over And I find that I am the only contestant Whenever I would have stopped I would have won

The Mouse

I am the mouse Running the maze Looking for the cheese That is my goal That is what I was taught to do I run my course Finding many dead ends Much confusion But still finding my way Learning as I go I find my way Through the labyrinth Through the tedium Feeling accomplishment Finality I hate cheese And when I get there It’s pulled from my grasp I get put back in my cage Till the next maze calls


I hear people talk of love I see people drink till they believe in love I know people who love their car People who love the ocean People who love the weekends And people who think they can make love But people just don't get IT You can win the lottery but you can't win IT You can be a great actor but you can't act IT You can be the richest person in the world but you can't buy IT You can be the greatest hunter and still might never see IT IT is the most precious gift and the darkest curse If you pass IT by you may never see IT again Better to have lived without knowledge of IT if you can call that living than to have lost it forever If you have the fortune to be a part of IT Cherish IT Nurture IT But most of all hold onto IT and never let IT go Millions walk by IT too blinded to see IT cursed to mediocrity forever A man once said "better to have loved and lost..." He never knew it and should suffer having known IT and lost it for eternity


I sit quiet Hearing the sounds of nature around me Waiting for a glimpse of the sun The sun that has hidden from me for too long Leaving my world in darkness Today shall return The moments I wait for it seem like hours The anticipation is almost maddening It’s been years but I feel your touch smell your scent I have had visions our union for so long Dreamed of how it would happen Anticipated the moment An anticipation that would be shared with someone For whom I adore and cherish It becomes a source of incredible energy Our eyes meet and start the caressing long before a single touch has been felt For our eyes capture the very essence of the moment as well as the anticipation of what is to come Though it appears our eyes see only the physical without notice They focus upon the entire being and peer into each others soul I choose now for my passion and hunger to taste the fruits you so kindly offer My eyes have seen into yours and sense your desire for to be touched Your desire and yearning to be fondled by my eyes My lips My softness My hunger My desire My passion As your eyes beg for my tenderness Your lips tremble for my affection You see my eyes focus steadily upon your lips I move quietly to within a breath of you and your tenderness A scent so strong and powerful I need beckon for my strength and endurance Our eyes can no longer gaze into each others We come together Welcoming each others breath as our own Noses are barely touching as we close our eyes and inhale the intoxication that has infiltrated our souls I feel your breath and my lips swell with anticipation That breath has given us our direction as we ever so slightly graze our lips together Almost unexpectedly The graze of your lip startles me I feel vulnerable in your strong and beguiling presence In small delicate grazes Our lips have found each other Pouty and swollen with hunger Our tongues are introduced Squeamish at first but the slight moan of pleasure that escapes eases the curious tension Shy but ready to pounce The hunger grows Our lips lingering about exploring every corner Delicate and succulent Our lips move and tickle First slow and very purposeful They learn their boundaries Taking turns we massage one another’s lips with sucks and pulls Then with ease and grace they harden as our energy begins its release I have noticed my lips are no longer dry with nervous excitement But wet with the moisture you have shared My hands framing your face as if to center your suppleness for my own consumption My palms and fingertips are gentle as though holding a fragile flower As if the flower was being nourished by our passion and tenderness You begin to bloom Parting your mouth awaiting my exploration My hands interlace the hair on the back of your head firm yet sensual squeezes give way to moans of pleasure It was with your tongue delving into my willing mouth that I too began seeking out your passion and all you had to offer We both hunger for the sensations of feeling The inflexibility of our warmth within The smoothness of our teeth and the rigidity yet softness felt simultaneously in our tongues Breathing heavy and gasping for our next breath is of little concern Our energy has just exploded during our lustful exchange My mind is being flooded with sensations The tenderness and raw passion felt together is overwhelming Yet I still want more Much more in fact Because although my lips are bruised and burning It is not just my lips that are ablaze and craving more This is you This is what you do to me These are my dreams and desires This is what I have thought about in the darkness all these years waiting on the sun This is why the moments seem like hours Now I see you The warmth that flows over my body Is like air into my soul And purpose into my like You’re more beautiful than I ever could have remembered

The Moon

I see the moon So far Yet so wonderful I see the stars and the beauty they portray I admire them from a far I can't live without their marvel and wonder Maybe their wonder is their attraction Maybe because I can't see them as they are Only see them so far away Is the attraction Their fire burning so hot They can be seen worlds away Their reflection of light A mirror of an intensity So miraculous that it inspires life So I sit and watch the wonders of the universe I sit and write of their beauty A wonderment that all get to see That I may never possess But I could look at forever And will Forever

On this day

On this day I drive But it is no ordinary day For on this day I have seen the most beautiful site I have breathed the freshest air And have tasted the sweetest nectar On this day I felt a presence I have not felt before On this day I found you On this day I smile But it is unlike any smile I have created before For on this day it won’t go away I have been touch in my soul And it has released me from an unknown cell On this day I have been freed On this day you found me On this day I swoon But I have never been so taken For on this day I guard not myself but you I have taken a precious fragile flower And planted it in the garden of my soul On this day I tend to your heart On this day we are one

The scene

I look back on our day As if perched on a balcony over looking a scene of a play I have my notes and I know how the story goes But I look at the players with amazement I know the script but the way they portray their roles is so new I know where the next scene is but I can’t wait to get there I know he gets the girl and saves the day But I want to feel them get it I want this scene to last forever I want to be able to rewind it and feel it again And again And again But I don’t want to miss the next scene for he sees her again He has been counting the hours Passing the moments of the mundane parts of his life that he used to think was so exciting All the while dreaming of their next encounter Suddenly he is on his way to meet with her again I know what’s going to happen so why am I so excited JUST GET THERE DAMN IT Easy big guy The anticipation is part of the fun What will happen this time I hope he goes back tomorrow We will have to wait till the next scene

What I refuse to be

Better person Better Man Cyclical bleakness dulls the razors edge Golden horizons Clear blue sky Missed opportunities postpone greatness Dark dreams Tattered conscious Pain hurts But it keeps me awake to the ideas of what I refuse to be

Sleeping dogs

Seeing thoughts of yesterday Looking for something worth dying for Dying for something worth living for I hunted for love I have searched for passion I have longed for a dream I have seen things so beautiful That it makes my poetry seem bland But it is a fogging memory I taste something slightly similar It brings back flashes of a past reality Some things sleep but never leave Some things will not sleep forever Sleep is temporary Some sleeping dogs need to be awaken

The Leaf

There was a poem by E. E. Cummings that tells a story of a leaf. A leaf that falls from its perches Falls alone Falls silent Falls seemingly forever Awaiting its bottom Awaiting its destiny Awaiting its end Yet at times the wind catches it May at times hold it Hold it stagnate Hold it twisting Hold it without knowing its final destination The leaf knows where it is supposed to be Supposed to go Supposed end This leaf seems lost All it wants is to be a leaf All it wants is to fulfill its destiny All it wants is to know its end All it wants is to know it was a Leaf

A Man

There are many things that establish a man Integrity Reason Principle We need to see ourselves We are who we are We are a populace White Black red brown or yellow We are people We are Men We are Women We are People Those who say we or they are less Will and are dying off We need to be better For now For the Future

The wonder of you

I have enjoyed the beauty of the ocean at sunset I have seen wondrous things in the sky that no one else could see I have enjoyed the Rainbow formed from the mist of great waterfalls I have heard the wind whistle through the trees to a tune that was unforgettable I have enjoyed the smile of child’s unconditional love I have felt the power of a storm by merely smelling the air But I have never been magnetically drawn to a person the way that I am drawn to you I wonder at the stars I search the outer reaches of the mind I trek for understanding I seek passions that exist only in fairy tales I yearn for a perfect life All these things are intangible But the one thing I have found is intrigue in a woman I have collapsed into you Like a marathon runner at the finish line I feel disoriented Drunk on endorphins I thump my chest to show all what I have accomplished Yet this is only the beginning The beginning of something so extraordinary Mere words are as worthless as a thought never expressed I am excited about what has begun But this is a thing that will create its own mass A ripple that could very well Develop into a tidal wave A wave that will encompass the two of us One that will wipe clean all areas of doubt depression and despair Thank you For you have come to me as I was alone on an island The rescue craft I believed did not exist I have lived on the bare minimums Cursing the times and opportunities wasted But as you come closer The emotions well up in my body As I remember what hope feels like once more A life alone is and can be a life But not the life I am looking for I have tried it And it is not for me I see your face and my world changes My paradigm shifts And my life is better The smile that forms on my face I can’t remove Even if I would want it to Your beauty shocks me like cold water in the morning I am a man who wandered the desert But now I am camped in an oasis There is no world except for the water and the palm trees that surround me For there is no joy greater than when I see you I can stare at you speechless for hours I know of all the peacocks in the fields flashing their tails What exactly drew your eye to mine is a mystery But whatever my tail was doing I need to make sure it keeps doing it For the cocks are in the pen and they want the prize hen I might not be the biggest or boldest but I have a the gift of passion I feel something unlike I have felt in the past The thoughts of you pour so quickly from mind to paper Much like drinking from a fire hose You get what you can but come back to fully gather You say hello to me I just melt away You smile at me And my soul smiles back You look at me And I lose myself in your eyes You touch me And my body becomes warm You speak to me And the rest of the world is silent You kiss me And my soul weeps with joy Staring into your eyes Stroking your thigh Seeing you smile This was truly awe-inspiring The smile I could not peel from my face The image of you burned into my mind The memory of feeling your touch Brings chills to my spine and bumps to my neck How wonderful our time together is I cannot explain We sit and talk Laugh and share Every story is a new doorway A doorway letting you know who I am A doorway letting me know who you are Doorways leading to a beautiful room A room immense in proportion A room where we will find who we are I cannot wait to see you again


I ran fast once Without reason or cause I fought against a demon I didn’t even know existed Just to please people who didn’t matter Now when I run with cause I am slow Now when I fight The people are the demons I loved once With a passion that was unexplainable I wrote once Just to explain my existence Now I question the love at its core For what is here is passionless I write now Just for therapy for my quest Passion is not sex But sex can be passionate Love is not lost But seemingly forgotten I am tired But so awake I thirst But am flooded I am the catch But yet the fisherman I am the hunter But obviously the prey

Today I was Angry

Today I was angry The first time since I was scared I was angry The day I wanted to die I was scared Today I was angry Today I was angry The first time in years I was angry The day I questioned my faith I was scared Today I was angry Today I was angry In days gone by I was thus I was angry In days since I have been in control Today I was angry Today I was angry I am better than this…but I was angry I can’t swallow it…because Today I was angry Today I was angry Deny or deal with the fact that I was angry Even though this is new to me again Today I am angry Today I am angry I have denied this feeling even though I was angry I used to hurt people…so Today I am angry Today I am angry But I love who I have become…but I was angry I will be an extraordinary person…even though Today I was angry

The Delivery

A knock at the door A past that I have denied is on the other side To drop off a package They leave it But I am afraid to take it The package is a soul A gift But not one I can accept All too beautiful But a moment and its gone Given in a point in time With desire and trust A gift with no strings Nothing to tie me But a noose to execute my beliefs What about my needs Or desires Can I sacrifice the passion For the Desire Can I accept the lust over the love I see so many who settle Who get what they can But never get what they want Always a story of what they meant to do Never a story of what they did We seek to be what we thought we needed to be But look past what we wanted to be And become what we feel we must But forget what we defined ourselves by To become the one who regrets missing it Love What happened to it Passion Where did it go We spend too much effort to be ordinary And to feel a part of anything

The Past

No more clearer a painting as the past But none more distorted A diary written with a hint of ambition A letter of fiction which I hold as truth Whore to my own memories Re Keying what should be important Never the clear picture For my protection Or my torture

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