View Larger My half empty glass is now fully empty. So where’s the after math to the chaos of divinity. (Taken with instagram)
“titled daydream”
embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstasies into a single self transcendence; by the deep roots of vanity. a quest of intermediate judgment, hearts of advanced meaning, tear away the beauty of simple connections. or was that transparent enough for you to relate?
a toast to the devils advocate. soft skin against the citrus sky, a choir of birds and ultraviolet light connect us like a perennial ally. some of the water splashes little sprinkled mist over the surface and decorates our wishes with purpose and bonus graphics. on top of this dam, built up by the paradoxical hands, some fish for kingdoms of instant serotonin while others prefer to kiss under the endless clouds of heaven and walk the land of posture and prisons. we giggled like kids do back when they would stay up later then two. our connection was free and leisure in less then an hour. we talked of ancient civilizations, ecology behaviors, and spiritual revelations. you strengthened all the tricks to make me my ideal human. sorrow strung tight; unwounded the ropes and became fiction. boiled frustration and stressful decisions weren’t worth it to mention. it all had diminished and i actually looked alive. i just want to feel something real, she said. theres already plenty of far-fetched characters and pupils behind loaded rifles. theres intangible anchors and surreal pictures, aimless wanders and dirty water. reality is here. i just want to feel something really real. not lust. not one eyed trust. no methods of mischief or warm colored orchids. we’ve got enough reality. im not looking for tragedies or something heavy. but who can give me a fantasy? the devils advocate most definitely.
your brain is an animal
breathing and thinking
position is eternal
inhaling and masking
this view is subliminal
culture fumbles for rituals
early dawn and school principles
receipt for a gamble
it’s a gilded persuade
a stoutly placed cascade
bad business okay
hazardous roadways
a judgment by ones peace
a simple challenge is complete
a judgment inspite of blurry
faded tabooed boundaries
will keep you at your peak
will answer ego mysteries
your pain is an inferno
turning and burning
accidents are normal
lessons are carving
points that feel fatal
pressing and pulsing
the editor is bashful
rough draft. i’m speaking
it’s a gilded persuade
a stoutly placed cascade
bad business okay
hazardous roadways
a judgment i live to speak
a pendulum built poorly by pity
a judgment sold by scenery
scenes of fornicated machines
will spread like secret squeaks
patch up all the leaks
patch up all the leaks
4-9-12
the lobby pushed the pendulum and powered the oscillations; a cashier, cliental, and gossip thickening the air.
blood hounds express their salvation while tracking down a myth;
commons drape their beliefs in order to appeal to joe smith.
a town built on philosophy still doesn’t know what they could be
when men criticize men and think their in charge of everything.
it steals those genuine moments we’ve been protecting.
the cast of fate opens and i except the modern taverns.
set in the spring sun and wait for the auburn pattern.
i’m watching the world and know history has been adjourn.
a traffic jam of desire and a ripple of fire:
make sure you are loved and have a good touch
because you will need everybody’s regards
while you are wanting to change who you are.
theres a cycle wrapping me to this sunken ship phrase
where every sentence i attain folds me like a homework page.
each crease causing me to be closer to the edge of the paper,
like fear, these positions challenge me to escape my study bunkers.
plan for a vacation where feelings render my poise and joy.
i need another perception to employ.
such spot lights should be a perfect decoy
when i no longer remind you of a bumpy turquoise
except my uncertainties like a garden spawning.
i just want to be admired like you admire a painting.
come keep me warm. center your stomache and cook your foods. reality is born. im just a boy with dirty shoes. come talk to me. i can be quite interesting if you’d cultivate the venture. theres frizzy hair, tight jeans and coats of leather. the exterior seems unique; i guess you could say symbolic. what ever’s the meaning, it is mainly my dresser draw and empty hangers that nurture it. i set the show case and water my inflexible back-bones. every decision becomes an extension of justified clones. humble eyes and genuine tones are fountain statues that let erosion grow. theres a loneliness i’ve let sneak through my cracks. i thought i’d always feel fulfilled with where i was at. im just a kid and have quit taking my naps. no afternoon snakes or criss cross apple jakes. been growing up like those green fish bowled turtles, moving slow, i know someday i’ll be free from these hungry gargoyles. yes. they’re inspiring but it just makes ambition boil. step in the eastern sun and hope a good focus has begun. im ready to talk, i think. im ready to learn your warmth and find spring; yellow and pink and there’s more colors it brings. come to me, seasons. come to me, women. just follow your heart. i want you to make art and render me like a survivor. harmonize me like a guitar. trust me. im no star but i can shine for a life time if you can tell me how you are. we will play the question game and spark those prolific bookmarks. are there any spirits out there tonight? light or dark, are there any thoughts spreading tonight? 
an american boy learns from the
touch
skin on ivory, wrong notes and
freewill
movement becomes his faithful
crutch
and expression plants serotonin
fields
he soon embraced how limitless he
feels
freedom written on black and white
keys
feed the bright eyes at a royal
windowsill
it is smooth and easy like ancient
serenity
acoustic LOVE soon turned to electric FUZZ
psychedelic SWIRLS schemed beneath our WORLD
every SOUND became more and more COMPOUND
status COSMOS and reality talk SHOWS
are evening pass times of this TOWN
stabbed in RELATIONSHIPS are up-to-date PINPOINTS, by nervous leery GRIP,
turned into dueled designs of pink and blue alloy VARNISH
inside the GIFT was a soulful singer’s HIT
the city’s bedlam BABBLE became DISMAL and SUBTLE
he could HEAR a SINCERE anthem CLEAR as GOODWILL
no matter the location, passionate eyes placed
him
where chords sang from the kids hand-me-down
piano
he turned whitewashed functions into timeless
gems
like a risky voyage of pilgrims through barren
meadows
good art always leaves a perennial
fearless and beautiful.
nature at it’s finest!
