distinguished

What makes this screen a screen
Always this glass between you and me
The way I view the space between
What separates my life from these

Flies

Hw do I find this?
Such a great difference.
What a grand distance.
And yet I find this home.
I cover the distance in moments.
With a sense
Unspoken
I land politely
Upon what I have smelt byway to.
You can shoo me al you want
But I will land on what I find appealing

Genetic Test

I think I am a part of you
The denied offspring my be me
This may be mine
But we deny
The truth in eyes
Will lie
I can see it
You know the truth
I am me
And
I am you

Built

Withhold the urge
The call of porcelain
The nonsense cannot be denied
I hold it in
the flow is forced
the force is coming
I fed my knees
I arch my spine
Call forth the throws of power
From my toes the blow is shown

Here And There

Every where I go I see you.
In every face.
On every person.
I can't escape you.
Your memory is haunting me.
In every thing I do.
No matter where I run to.
You are always waiting.
I can't escape you.
Nor would I want to.
You are no longer here in person.
I am left see you in the face of strangers.

future

Why must we force these tears
A flickering manifestation of worry
Fear of mortality reflected in this event
Nothing can hold back this show of sympathy
The rushing swell of terror
The concentrated focus of futures truths
We are all headed to that one great place
There is no stopping

Well Defended Position

I am unsure how long i've been here.
It remains unclear the steps that lead to this.
Yet I willingly take the steps to maintain this position.
Waning and failing in the salty glow.
I did not put myself here so willingly,
But now that it is so, I will.
Give up no ground.
The only thing that I have ever counted on.
So willingly given.
So easily lost.
With nothing left but a back to rest upon.
My claws are sharp and so my teeth are gnashing.

Good Mourning

There is a recurring dream that haunts me,
Nearly nightly as the dawn plots to assail my eyes.
In this imagined reality I am always moments away from my death.
Never is it clear what ails me.
Never is it explained what vehicle demonstrates my mortality.
But I am given one task to prolong my life.
As long as I do this simple thing I can live forever.
My charge is to dance each evening before I take my rest.
I am to joyfully express my elation,
As I dance upon the graves of all my family.

frequent

I want to ghostwrite the suicide
Of everyone that stood between
A pair of slowly spreading thighs and me

With coffee stains and scratch marks
Blood cannot deter
Once we set the mind

I take my tobacco with clover and colour
If I can't breath I may as well drown

The people around me end up wasting away
One line at a time they disappear
More frequently than I care to dissect here

fear

What wonders have we robbed ourselves of
By the requirements of social grace?
What discoveries have we systematically seared out
of multiple generations?
For fear of repercussions unknown?
For fear of offense?
How often do we silence our bodies,
And quiet our minds,
For the sake of perceived reprisal?
However slight the potential.

instant

friction has overcome momentum
as the clouds stand before the moon
veiling the potential light
for eternities of stagnation
with no visible motion
progress gives in to contentment
these actions are inactive

pine

I am pining for the time that my breath ceases
Still to weak to take the steps alone
With welcome sobs of joy I run to meet this
Ignore the incline growing steeper
I am steady for this
No shaking breaks my line of sight.

perfect

Something is smoldering below these drying eyes.
The wind picks up and sound, with leaves and death,
Is carried far beyond my outstretched hands.
I cling to this the way I've clung to you for years.
Before the veil was fully burnt I learned of simple things.
The way to your heart was a minefield.
 Despite the weight increasing I can see the emptiness within my arms.
So to are all the things I spoke to no one on that day.
So to the bags of mirth left dying in the bed.
In absence of the sun's golden red rays I am undrenched.

My Own Boss

I am staring at the business end of an entire day.
Blinking in the sudden sunlight.
Drinking in the bewilderment.
Where did the darkness go?
An early meeting perhaps?
There is no external motivation.
There is little in the way of provocation.
Can I keep this up until I die?
I must decide the fate of me and mine.
I trust my ideas and the simulations agree.
The mind is willing.
The body is slow and distractible.
I am the only one that can steer this vessel.
I am the only one that can clean up this mess.
I am the one who made it.

Here I Go Again

Not sure if it is boredom,
Or the beating drum of tradition.
So ingrained in my mental architecture this.
I will fulfill this act of hygienic violence.
Justification stems from cerebral maintenance.
If ever wrongness is perceived,
I surely banished it.

The cracking whip of ignorance is flaying.
My bodily defense is baying.
To this I write my lyrics.
No sooner does the ink dry on this digital distraction,
I will be deeper than my knobby knees.
And lacking traction.  

Brief Infatuation

Turning, folding into self
Great sprays of steam remain,
Unexpected.
A bounce in the step.
A twitch of the mouth.
A narrowing of the eyes is all it takes to see.

Truth cares not of dreams,
Nor wishes.
Delicious wisps whisked into the darkness.
Hold your breath all you want.
But I think death will great me first.

With This I Disagree

You cannot stand alone
There's no place quite like home
The one less traveled surely is the better road

Change comes from within
Things will never change
Change is all you can count on

Money can't buy happiness
Blood is thicker than water
You will always be there for me

Crippling Confusion

I want to know the truth.
I do.
I can promise you that at least if nothing else.
My desire is strong,
and so too the will.
So here I stand.
Starring up at this monumental collection.
A diverse array of dispersed opinionated facts.
More than three-thousand years it stretches back.
Upward these slopes contain so much that is unknown,
So much that is unknowable.
"Where to start?"
Seems such a tedious thing to entertain.
Eyes strain to see some kind and distant end,
A keen point to all the work,
A destination that validates my claim at learning.
I fear no such precipice exists,
Only to be exhausted in the reaching upward.
What kind of goal is this?

Why Am I "I"?

My sweetness slowly soured through the years.
Brought on by relentless machines.
The well is dry from all these bitter tears.
A choice to turn my back on warming dreams
Wake up!
Wake up! comes the cry.
Lofty aspirations are out of reach for you or I
They serve to keep the eyes affixed on things ahead
Inasmuch as body stays in line.

Selfish View

Your actions

In defiance me

Are reflections

Of my shortcomings

A body's response

To the nutrients it needs

But does not receive

From it's regular diet

What could only be found

On the outside

Of what is basic routine

Thus you act

Outside of me

For help the cry is made

I make all the Modifications

But nothing seems to change

Swimming upstream

But the scenery is the same

Network Worth

Celebrity feuds make national news
And the propaganda keeps churning
With only two choices, what could you choose?
Eyes, being blinded keep turning
The options to pick from, pre-chosen for you
My heart, for some hope, still is yearning
Don't make the investment, there's nothing to lose
This power's potential still learning
Bitter resentment mistaken for "Blues"
While the funeral pyre is burning
Then cut to commercial to tighten the screws
Feelings of happiness blurring

Pain's Grinning

With perfect teeth, we
Withstand the sea.
Beneath me something shudders
Violently.
No meaning to glean from this cacophony.
Only time remains, slowly draining
slowly seething away.
This fray has brought us back
Unwilling.
Still standing here in the face of every death
Grinning ear to ear
Lest we be seen for something more of tears,
And less of jest.

Stolen Moments

Gripped and held
Vigorous patience
This routine is becoming daily
Multiplying by the hour
Sweat beckons an end
Rising pulse again
The tide stops short
Of total drowning
Warmth subsides
Winter has arrived
Stillness panics at the sight
Breathing regulates
Memory fails
Smiles give way to filling sails
Carefull endangerment ensues
The top continues spinning
No one wins the lottery this time

Finish Forced

Entirely too forceful,
the way I got here.
Reluctant deeds leed nowhere.
The heart becomes stifling,
Yet still I am rifling through these memories
and imagined thoughts.
Trying to find an opening.
Trying to force the ending.

Rain Delay

There is so little in the way of time.
Or so I tell myself.
Even the elements attempt to derail me
Once I have made up my mind.
There is no way to stop me
From stopping
With pounding heart
And screaming brain
I willingly succumb to imagined pains
There is so much work to do.
The steps at first seem unsurmountable
With minor provocation I could exist
in a constant vacation.
No one else is going to accomplish what needs to be done.
No one else even cares about the change to not be making it.
This feeling of desperate necessity mixed with crippling anxiety:
There is no shaking it.