Drift.

Drifting you will find
pleasures of a different kind.
Outside of reason I'll be there
the cathode ray you beware.
Inside of you - Inside of me
Lives a truth that longs to be
as free as the wind that moves in the sky
as real as the fear that cast us aside.

Drifting you will find
what's inside of you - inside of me.
Set apart from your daily routine
your cars, and your jeans.
Lost.. enraptured in oblivion,
drunk off your monotonous treason.

Slipping, falling, fading, pining away
(from what you are) and what we truly are
Another straw in a stack of hay
a breath along the way.

Drifting you will come to find that ONE and ONE is ONE, and that we're all ONE mind.

My pride

See, it's not that I don't want you.
It's that I can't handle you, you're heavy,
you make my legs quiver, and my being shiver.

I can try to play you as if you were my guitar,
but I can never seem to find the tuning that'll make you shine.
So when I strum you you scream, when I pluck you I dream
and in between silver milky clouds I lose your key.

I can try to keep you, but what for... you're just too heavy.
So heavy you make my legs quiver, my being shiver, and my pride- my pride slither-down, down, down a cotton filled hole.

You're so heavy my legs quiver, but it keeps you interested don't it?
Up top in control, like the puppet master of my soul,
you don't have to squeeze me do ya mama?
Do ya?

You know I'll be back tomorrow, for you to make my legs quiver,
my being shiver, and my pride slither down deep - down - deep - deep and down.
Yea right there...

Maybe if I played you like a bass we'd get you there,
I can stand there - mess with your low end.
Slap you yea' slap you right there, where?
Tell me again...

I'd strap you right over my shoulder girl but you're heavy, so heavy.
Hard to handle, vividly intoxicating, you're poison and a remedy,
a beat and a melody, to your tune my legs quiver, my being shivers, and my pride
my pride keeps growing.

one more dance

These thoughts cohesively build each other to cry - not as a plea,
but because I've worn the words that make them whole on my sleeve
since the first three-fourths moon after the first one to be full in a long ago December.
This is all I seem to remember...
All we were meant to offer is that which we truly need but it, like all else in this social tundra, can do nothing more than freeze.

Silence is death, gentle and paced but as definite
as the moon that rises when the sun decides to slumber.
Are the insane the only one's to see this, I wonder.
All we need is what we are meant to offer,
and knowing how to dismember it has become so eloquently proper.

The fury of the sun burns this within the body that holds my soul.
With this knowledge I beg for my kind's just deserts.
Because all we need is the only thing that we can offer, but love followed the stock market down a hole.
Left are the hopes of a lost species, the wants of a somnambulist generation, and I.

Anti Conformists turn Conformists into Anti Conformists and take their place instead.
Those who do neither dance a bi-polar/schizophrenic waltz with their demise.
Slowly we sway from thought to thought to a song left untitled, to an unheard melody,
and we enjoy the comfort of our disdain.
Time slips through our fingertips, while you're mesmerized by your high definition box,
pathetically hypnotized by its light.
All during which I long for one more dance, hoping to finally get it right.

Late night visitor

Underneath her makeup is a story to be told.
A goddess, to be sheltered and adored.
Her body a vessel and her eyes windows to another world.
Fragile is her existence, like that of a glass doll.
Erotic and beautiful as a painting that only one's mind would know.
Her pining never clear,
because as soon as she washes off her makeup
she tends to dissapear.

With and without

Evil is never born, it is made either through action or the lack thereof...

Isis

I despise your silky hair
And the complexity that is your alluring, delightful face.
Your memory worthy smile angers me
Your fragile hands disgust me.

Your broken sense of reality
might be as necessary as breathing.
But you should know
That out of everything, I hate you most
Because you're leaving.

To whomever I am supposed to be

I am writing this to whomever I'm supposed to be...
Know that before you I lived enslaved to my own kindness.
Know that where you came from.... know that where you came from
there was nothing but devastation.

In the midst of emptiness my desolation paved the way for you to be.
This is meant for whomever I am to become, I hope that you learn to appreciate the hand that walked you to where ever it is that you now reside.
If not for me you wouldn't exist.

Though my demise will spark your birth,
Know that I don't resent you, despise, or hate you.
I've longed for this release for long, and things are the way they are....
Not because something deemed them to be,
but because thus is the natural accordance of things.

Whomever I will be...
I want you to know that you're no less or greater than I.
I am and forever will be irreplaceable, but your existence and essence are as innevitable as the ink marking words on this blank sheet of paper.

If you ever read this.... know that I am proud of you not for whom you are.
but because you were able to get through it all.

The sound of despair

It is loud, but comes in a decibel audible only to those that have felt it.
Below, mountains dressed in a bleached white blanket of snow keep you company.
It walks you by the hand like a loving mother. Down a road determined to teach you something, but the sound is loud. It's motif owns all of your senses.
You'll find a fragile stepping stone willing to take you further down the teaching road, but bound to break and release you back into the depths of its taunting melody.

Its cold moves you forward, and by its hand once more you go.
It is dissonant, but in that dissonance you hear the key that'll open that familiar door.
Uncertainty drives you, it defies you, and so you listen. Then you listen harder until eventually you hear nothing. Nothing but your heart beating, and your eyes moving... searching, looking for a sign.

Uncertainty guides you, the teaching road defies you, and then there's absolute silence.
The silence is deafening, it becomes an abhorrence to every inch of your skin, and defies you to move forward. A stepping stone, rigid and familiar to your feet screams under your weight....
Frightened, you freeze, it is loud.
You can't move, fears hands caress your face. "GO" it whispers, "GO"
You close your eyes and you go forward, passively you listen, then you listen harder.
You're not sure of what you're looking for, but you can hear it calling.

It's loud, but you move closer.
Dissonant, so you listen harder.
It's there... somewhere out there, spewing reason into your ears.
You listen closely and realize, that you've heard this before.
It defies you no longer, you're strong and you have learned.
In this moment the sound of despair pines away into oblivion, and you....
You proceed to move along longing to hear it again.

The lament of innocence

I awoke today.
I opened my eyes
For the very first time.

I saw a veil
Behind it I dared not look
For embellishing with truth,
is not as summoning
as the warmth of ones desires.

Oh, to know...
That such beauty
as the one imprinted in my brain
is only a delusion.
In which colder forms of reality
Hide inside eye-grabbing colored boxes.
It's awakening like the cries of a starving child,
and as loud as the lament of innocence.

Luscinia

Sing for a moment longer
Fill this void with your sweet melody,
Dare to wonder about going out of key.
You've walked long enough and you've lost your motif.
Somewhere out there....
In the cold distant darkness you lost what you were after.
But you sing.....
Because it's all you know.

que sientes?

Que sientes, cuando no sientes mas?
El abandono que te quedo corto riendose sobre ti.
No escuchas mas que el suspiro de tus pensamientos
añorando aquella vida que dejaste.

Perdido...
Entras y Sales por nubes inciertas
Buscando paz en un terreno bañado en sangre y lujuria.

Y lo que buscas....
Lo que buscas, ahi esta
Tan cerca que no lo puedes ver
Y en esa busqueda te pierdes
Asi como el que se pierde buscando su reflejo en una pared.

Te aturbia ese error
Darias todo por volver
Y aclarar las nieblas que cegaron tu razon
Pero ciego has quedado.

Que sientes cuando no sientes mas; me pregunto.
Temor, un temor que se acuesta y despierta a tu lado
Y por mas que quieras abandonarlo el abandono te queda corto.

Que sientes cuando no sientes mas?
Lo sientes todo...

I.....

I don't own things
Any kind of things.
But I do have love
comprehension
and an open mind
to new worlds.

Did I mention that I have
Honesty
Hands to only caress you
Arms to keep you warm
A mind, an open mind...

A vice
within a vice
that longs for release into flaming lungs
that breath par with my childish innocence.

A letter to you....

At a loss for words
My pen screams your name
Empty pages ache with a lust for sense
And the yearning to convey what could've been.

At a loss for words
I open my eyes to see nothing
Answers are left out in the open
Only to those that can see through closed eyes.

At a loss for words, I starve
Not for food or knowledge
But for peace.

I starve, at a loss for words
Blindly looking death in the eye
Boldly seeking life.

At a loss for words
An uncertain future dressed in black
Kindly welcomes me into oblivion.
Where vibrant vivid colors ask to take me places
That my heart longs to go, but the essence of my being...
cannot conceive.

I stare....
Into the beauty of what could be,
With just a little bit of you and a little bit of me
And I fall, at a loss for words.