Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Land of the Conceited


I felt a change coming in the southerly winds,

An alteration like there had never been,

Firestorm sky, left a distant, deadly surprise,

A future of devastation,

Destruction of an obnoxious nation,

So change the station, hear the horrific cries,

Of a steady demise,

Watch the dead quietly rise,

Forming the ranks of those who did not care,

Those who would not bare,

The burden of freedom, liberty, justice for all,

Those who never answered the call,

The land drowns in fire,

Its ignorant people, fail to perspire,

They march into doom's pitch-black hands,

Knowingly submitting themselves to his calamitous demands,

All the while, becoming casualties to time's worn sands,

So fear not dear citizens, live on in obscurity,

Forever a victim, of your own prosperity.


Monday, August 31, 2009

A New Reality


Purple clouds float through blood red skies, I fly free, on the wings of fireflies, over green gullies, feathery fronds, above the placid, black stone ponds, white-washed trees wave in the wind, under fire-scorched earth, my flight descends, o, the possibilities of a world without boundaries, clear, clean, cool is the water I breathe, my lungs fill with liquid, unlike a sieve, they hold every drop of sweet Adam's ale, allowing a gratifying, moment of exhale, disillusionment, fear, timidity, these three are the worst of all obscenities. so find the blank canvas that resides in your soul, create a reality from that memory film roll.       

Monday, August 17, 2009

A Necessary Evil


Man is at his very best in a trying time,
In the land of war he is at his unequaled prime,
Putting those to rest who seek to destroy,
Vicious tactics they will eagerly employ,
But he stands ready at the guard,
Always prepared to finish what he starts,
His rifle, a slick, metal harbinger of death,
Seeks to stifle all those who think less,
Of life, morality, the values that many a man have died for,
To keep safe our beautiful shores,
The lion prowls deep into the dark night,
But this man tames him with one look over his iron sights,
He is a virtuous soul, who sees himself as a part of a beautiful plan,
A blueprint for peace, where the common citizen can forever walk freely,
No longer victimized by the conduits of evil and terror,
Now an out of reach future seems suddenly nearer,
The warrior does not love death or destruction,
But he realizes his duty,
Removal of all obstructions,
Those who defy the liberties of others,
The devils who seek to destroy his brothers,
So he continues to fight, night gives way to the beautiful day,
One when the battered and bruised warrior will proudly say,
I have protected the weak, the tired, the hungry, the poor,
Their lives, are examples of destruction, nevermore...

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Flying Solo

I flew in solitude, away from the gray-feathered flock,
For they would never soar upon the currents that I sought,
They could never fathom the color that I brought,
To a society of black and white, so I flew in solitude,
Long into the star-drenched night,
I watched my shadow dance across the surface of the pale moon,
As my soul sang a forlorn tune, loneliness,
Entangled by the tendrils of despair,
I sought out a spirit in whose vision I could share,
Our own creative dream where, ideas would impregnate a brain dead generation,
Zombie citizens trudging along in cognitive desolation,
And that is when I found you, a phoenix among mere pigeons,
You flew towards me, up, ever up, through the stratosphere,
You joined me as an equal, utterly fearless,
Together, we were careless, so we flew on,
Into the uncharted territories of a galactic dream-scape,
As one, our vision would shape, a brand new civilization,
With ideals all their own,
No longer would the free-thinking artist be stoned,
Instead his glorious talent would be honed,
His vision would become an exquisite reality,
And stand tall in the brilliant city square,
As a testament in opposition to normality,
But foolhardy was I to believe in such a lie,
For as we neared the sun, your facade became undone,
Your feathers melted away in the scorching, solar heat,
My heart, slowed its rapid beat,
Took a seat in my chest,
For you were just like all the rest,
Vicious slander, your deception disguise,
For you are the one who I most despise,
A chameleon, a creature of camouflage,
One who pretends to be that which they are not,
Original, unconventional, exotic, everything that I ever fought,
So again I fly alone, on my own,
I shine as a brilliant diamond against a bed of worn stones.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Cast-Iron Heart

A poem about heartbreak...ahhhhhh, what a strange theme! The simple fact is many of us have placed our hearts in the hands of someone we trusted, only to have that person shred it up and hand it back to us in an unrecognizable form. Love is a wonderful yet terrifying emotion that can cause either happiness or utter despair. It can be the greatest experience or the very worst. This poem is for all of the heartbroken who have felt the stinging pains of lost love. Goodnight....you shall soon love again.

Breathe in, breathe out,
Cool metallic click,
Makes me feel sick,
This is the steel valve that leads to my cast-iron heart,
A heart that I wish never did start,
I sit up in bed, listening to the click,
I can not hear the tick nor the tock of my bedside clock.
The palpitations extend from my chest,
In this gut wrenching sound, I did not invest,
I wish to open my ribcage like a big, bone book,
And reach in with a wretched, metal hook,
Disabling the machine that I once called a heart,
That I wish never did start,
It was not always this way,
But from my path you decided to stray,
We used to spend summers under the old, tired willow,
You used my lap for your head, as a pillow,
Softly speaking of conquering the world,
Your dreams before me, you brashly unfurled,
I would always listen with eager intent,
You could do nothing wrong,
I was sure you were sent, from the heavens above,
But, just like that you were gone,
Without a single word,
You carried out the devious con,
You convinced me that my heart was better served in your tender, loving hands,
That you had the most wondrous of plans,
And that is when you did it,
I was dreaming, in a lull, a beautiful sleep state,
You wiped it clean, our carefully marked slate,
You vanished, my heart in your grasp,
It might has well been in the den of an asp,
Left me with a rusty, iron pacemaker in the place of my warm, flesh heart,
The heart, that I now wish did not start.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

No Regrets

What a way to spend your life! In a nation that places full emphasis on its economy and monetary well being, is it really a surprise that most Americans see money as the #1 solution? We all have an inherent gift that is given to us and not using that gift is, in my eyes, a crime. So, for all of you who are not happy with your major, job, school, etc., remember that life does not wait for those slow to action. Inherit the gift that has been given to you! Live with NO REGRETS.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

Wake up, says my impatient alarm,

O what a way he has, such wonderful charm,

My head begins to pound,

As I listen to that putrid, relentless sound,

I sit up in my all too comfortable bed and already,

I am seeing red,

Every morning is the same,

A knockout punch of déjà vu,

Nothing in my life brings promise of new,

When you get a whiff of my routine you will see what I mean.

Wake up at dawn,

No time to yawn,

Stumble into the shower,

Beneath its pounding assault I cower,

Pat myself dry,

No chance to bat an eye,

Reluctantly don my suit, what do you know?

Yesterday, I spilled fruit!

Try it again,

This time I win,

Jump into my car, phew,

It barely starts, drive into the city,

Avoid that ditch of self-pity.

Hi Jack!

I wish I had a sack,to place over my head,

So I could get past Fred…Fred!

How are you? O, you bought a Corvette?

What a surprise, its brand new!

Sure, I can keep walking,

While you continue talking, there is nothing I’d rather do then sit and listen to you,

Talk about your life, and your amazing wife,

O, and who can forget your tiny treasures,

Your children that bring you such great pleasure.

I sure can’t, pictures of those little kids are practically engraved under my burning eyelids!

As you stand and blatantly brag,

Making me wish I had a chloroform rag,

To knock you out,

My mind begins its own bout,

With a certain thought of all that life has brought,

Onto my doorstep.

How did I land here, in this boring place,

How did I become apart of this monotonous race,

The same race that I promised to never run,

No, I am not having any fun,

Life’s sweet smells are nothing more than rotten stench,

An aroma that continues to induce a horrible flinch.

A flinch of my spirit,

That can no longer bare it,

Bare this same sounding drone,

This same base moan,

Lunges from my throat,

As I realize I missed the life boat,

Now I am stuck on misery island, here with guys like Fred,

Those citizens of humanity that I will always dread,

What seems like four days later I finally escape his nuclear mouth,

But from there things only go further south,

“Those reports should have been on my desk yesterday!”

Yells my enraged boss over my shoulder,

I wish for only one thing, that item is a boulder,

A large monolith to fall and crush that devil,

That always seems to revel in every single shortcoming,

I have finally made it to lunch,

But I am still under time’s vicious crunch,

As I sit and choke down my processed heart attack,

I begin to think back,

To times of ease,

When there were so few to please,

Back when thank you and yes sir were enough to get by,

Back to my younger days when I knew I could fly,

Now I stare at that old clock,

That continues to tick and tock,

When life was good he moved too fast,

But when days were rough his time barely passed,

Lunch is over and its back to my prison cell,

Where for the rest of the day I will dwell.

I turn on my computer and open a new report,

But all the numbers and figures my mind can not sort,

This leech duty has sucked away at my tired brain,

And continued to drain, away at all of life’s excitement,

Locking my spirit in solitary confinement,

Now its a battle ‘til the end of the day,

O, please end, please end, I pray,

Somehow I manage to make it through with little damage,

Finding myself in bed at night,

Laying underneath my glowing bedside light,

Thinking about tomorrow’s vicious fight,

I think back to all the plans I had,

Where there was no such thing as drab,

Only bright, vivacious color that spilled into every nook and cranny,

To whoever reads this letter, I offer it as a caution,

An awakening, a call-to-arms, my life’s testament,

Let it act as an alarm,

Though your plans in life may be hindered,

Though your path to greatness may be war-torn,

Though the soles of your shoes may be worn,

And through self-doubt you are beset,

Live your life with NO REGRETS.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Beethoven


So, this is a little bit of a change from my usual format. I wrote this poem for a class but that isn't to say that this poem didn't mean something special to me. I've never been a huge fan of classical music but I have a great amount of respect for the musicians. Enjoy.



He felt the wondrous sound burn within,
An arsonist like there's never been, it scorched his soul,
Took complete control, his ears were shut but his mind was open,
His imagination soared in the form of rhythm and chords,
Ink descended from his heaven-sent quill,
Noise of the angels it did furiously spill,
Manifested on paper through notes and scales,
This conduit set full sail, created a new land among the glorious stars,
Built a universe out of measures and bars,
He changed the way we hear, see, feel, at our hearts he did passionately peel,
Dug in, blazed a path into our minds,
Opened the dusty, worn out blinds, let the light shine in,
Brought us to a place we'd never been,
In an intense rage he pushed the pen to the parchment,
Showed us where the bounds of love and obsession went,
This fiery passion stemmed from the depths of his innermost being,
Without music, life had no meaning,
His stage was the page, on it, he built civilizations,
Constructed the origin of symphonic nations,
Infuriated by his open space environment,
He saw it as a horrific waste, so he made great haste,
With excruciating effort worked to fill the landscape with melodic structure,
He looked to rupture, the mundane, the norm,
He sought to create within the calm, a glorious storm,
Leaving the ear forever reborn,
Rejoice o great musician,
For you are the artist’s every ambition,
A revered creator of all that is pure,
For the colorless you provided the all healing cure,
A polychromatic pallet of musical bliss, greater even,
Than a lover’s first kiss.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Imagination


I draw a line in my mind and watch as it becomes a tall, majestic pine,
The leaves unfold, fruit blossoms and begins to grow,
From this fruit comes an animal,
Of what type, I’m not sure,
It stares up at me as it comes into existence,
I reach down to pet this creature,
And it offers no resistance,
I run my fingers through its soft silky fur,
It begins to coo, as if some type of a bird,
How can this be happening?
This beast has changed before my eyes,
Become a fine-feathered falcon, as if revealing itself from a disguise,
But wait is it a falcon? For its eyes are too large, too round,
My psyche is trying to keep up but my brain begins to pound.
Is this a tiger, lion, bear, falcon, or an owl,
As I search my inner thoughts for an answer my face forms a scowl,
How can this be, what sick trick is my mind playing on me?
I look back at the bird,
His feathers are no longer what they were,
They form scales, and this bird begins to hiss,
This is no feathered friend, surely my thoughts have run amiss,
No, I begin to see a changing reality,
A deadly viper is now slithering its way toward my person,
A certain formality, this snake is no longer a serpent,
Legs begin to grow and arms swing to-and-fro from the body of this creature,
This beast is becoming a person, a child,
Then a man, he stands before me and then I suddenly understand,
My eyes while they are blind,
Have been defeated by my imagination's flight,
My mind has given me the gift of sight.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Guardian


I see you standing on the corner of that sparsely lit street,
Before this, I believe we did meet,
Yes, I’m quite sure of it, I saw you before,
I saw you stand over him while he laid there on the floor.
You in your jet black cloak, razor sharp sickle in tow,
Around you, the wind did not dare blow,
But I barred your way, I am a guardian of life,
I refuse to betray, hideously, you screamed,
As I stood there, fiery shield and sword I did bare,
Ready for your furious attack, within me no fear,
But you were smart not to be so bold,
You knew there was no chance of bringing him into the cold,
I will stand watch over him day and night,
If its what you want, I will give you a fight,
But you must understand you will not defeat the light.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Get ready.....


FOR AN EMBARRASSMENT MAVS FAN!!!!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Camouflage


As I don the garbs of conformation,
I feel as though I am clothing myself in hypocritical affirmation.
Camouflage is fitting, for so it does to my creative spirit,
Hides all individualism, I can hardly bare it
I stare forward with steel eyes, body rigid as a plank,
This robotic attitude I do despise
The orders are barked and together we march,
Our heads turning neither to the left nor the right,
We follow command all day and all night,
No shades of gray, only black and white.
The uniform sound where boot meets ground,
Greets my ears, like finger nails greet a chalkboard,
But inside, my screams I must hoard.
This sterility kills my minds imaginative fertility,
Burning up any pre-formed visions of independence,
Will I ever find a path of transcendence?
Until I do I will continue to march in the same stoic formation,
Into the sunset, the sunset of a once great nation.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Death



Blood streams from my pale lips,
Bullets have torn my skin into flesh strips.
Life for me is coming to a climactic end,
My window on the world is beginning to bend.
I know it will soon break,
Sending my spirit to fiery lake.
I rest my head against the brick,
Ballistic riddled wall,
I know longer feel proud,
I no longer stand tall.
Instead I sit here pathetic and weak,
A reflection of the havoc I myself had once reeked.
Death had always been apart of my life,
So I guess there’s some irony in my new found strife.
They march toward me,
Those night winged demons,
Ready to drag me away,
I am ripe for the season.
I could care less,
Within I confess,
I have no expectation for extended vitality.
What else is reality,
Except my constant struggle with duality,
The demon leader grasps at my jaw,
Plunging his icy fingers into my soft facial skin,
So what if he wins?
With careless contempt I spit into his void expression,
I will accept death but not repression,
Blank stare greets his piercing screams,
I no longer fear death,
Nor the pain it brings,
It drags me away,
Where there are no shades of gray,
As I descend into hellish fraternity,
I instantly realize my own eternity,
I laugh as it pulls me under,
I no longer wonder about that which I used to.
For what does one have to lose once he has lost it all?
Victory I have found in scaling that towering wall.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

The Chair


I sit here alone in this dark, desperate room
Waiting to succumb to some sort of doom,
In this shallow pool of dubious gloom
I stare at the door in front of me,
Expecting that handle to turn,
Within me, fear burns, like a wildfire and takes a hold of my soul,
No, it will not let go, I continue to wait here for hours, days,
Then weeks, I feel the vile stench yanking at my skin,
O how it reeks, but I can not leave.
So I stay, in my chair,
And time continues to wear,
At this door, I will continue to stare.
I am growing old, my aging body,
Now full of wrinkles and folds,
My heart, dying like grass in the coming cold.
Life has come and gone,
I wish for another sunlit dawn,
Another bright morning, a chance to live with no fear,
But instead I blew it all on that horrible chair,
Where all I did was sit and stare,
Waiting for a monster or some sort of atrocious beast
But there was nothing beyond that door except a great feast,
A feast of life, love and passion,
But I chose to live in the same old fashion,
I walked the path of least resistance
But found myself the furthest distance, from happiness.
I was afraid to take the chance so I did not advance,
True, I lived of no care, a life full of fear,
Where all I did was stare, in that disgusting, old chair.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Politician

SOOOOOOO, I thought this picture about said it all.... ENJOY


Do not worry about me, I will do you no harm,
There is no reason to fear, to trip the alarm.
True, I will take away a freedom here and there
But do not realize me for what I am, a great vicious bear,
Biting and clawing away at your liberty,
Your pursuit of happiness, all that has been given to thee.
In my grandiose speeches I tell of a land where freedom has become heavily banned,
I speak of the evils that have befallen us all
And I swear to change things when you vote me in this fall.
I show you visions of great grandeur, visions of a land where,
The first shall be last and the last shall be first,
In order to accomplish this I will take from the hard working rich man’s bountiful purse.
No, I do not have much experience but do not worry,
Be not wary of this, small subtle question mark,
This minute disclaimer, on this issue grant me a waiver.
I need little practice, know-how for this occupation, all I’m trying to become,
is leader of a great nation. I tell you I am for the working class,
the poor and the needy, but how I will get there, well, yes, my plan is quite seedy.
I shout out through my media megaphone
And instantly all the great outlets fall at my feet, prone,
To my steady lies, this stealth disguise that will help lead you straight into demise.
It is true I am naive, I truly believe I am giving you what you need,
A healthy vaccination that will continue to reprieve,
So continue on great land, in your egotistical ignorance,
There is no reason for feelings of the tense.
Pay no attention to my hardened socialist policy,
My platform that I have built on many a fallacy.
Keep on feeding me with baby food questions,
And I will continue to answer according to the majority’s suggestion.
I will entrance you with my speech, destroy your intelligence like a leech
So sit back and enjoy my promises of a sun drenched beach,
A utopia, a paradise society, a humanistic land based upon propriety.
Prepare yourself for a land of change, where I will continue to derange,
Any and all, get ready, vote me in, this fall.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Rapture


The sidewalk is my launching pad, I crouch, feeling my legs coil,
The lactic acid in my muscles begins to broil as my body prepares for flight.
My feet push forcefully against the concrete, Takeoff!
I launch myself into the atmosphere, hurtling through the sky,
Gravity, I have chosen to defy, breaking the bounds,
Those iron manacles that shackle my frame,
Leaving me unequivocally lame, but no longer,
I have made a decision to resist, to not cease and desist,
To make a home in the stratosphere,
To create a dwelling in the air up there,
I have found my nirvana
As I make my way through the wondrous heavens I lasso the tail of a shooting star,
I steer it like a fireball car, a vehicle of light,
A conduit for my spirit, feel my unquenchable joy,
If you listen hard enough, you can hear it.
Scientists say there is no sound in outer space,
But they have not been to this most deafening place,
A beauty in this noise that I can not describe,
In this noise there is no angry diatribe, only the praises of grateful beings,
Within this praise there is heartfelt meaning,
My star has now taken me where no other star can,
To a place where I need no longer plan, for pain and heartbreak,
For such a despicable feeling, with such minuscule problems,
I am tired of dealing, I will never revisit that big blue and green planet,
That place that I used to call my home,
That large bio dome,
Why go back to a planet that gave me limits,
When up here there is no such thing,
Up here I have made incredible gains,
I shall never return to earth, the world that gave me chains.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Down by the Guadalupe



On the banks of the Guadalupe I sit and watch her flow,
I bask against the well rooted Cypress tree, as time begins to slow.
Her beauty is like a finely cut jewel, an emerald in color,
To not relish in this wonder, one would be a fool.
She glides quietly against pale limestone cliff,
Making her way through the river bed, gentle, yet swift.
She speaks softly to me in hushed tones,
Into her liquid arms I throw small stones,
And watch them skip across her slowly moving surface.
I stand and make my way towards her, I step into her gently,
Her cool handed touch elegantly surrounds me.
She makes her way up just past my knees,
I stand and enjoy her cool mist breeze,
Watching her as she saunters into the distance,
What a wonderful life, an easy going existence, facing such minimal resistance.
I admit I have grown very envious of her free flowing style,
But for now I will just have to partake from my imagination vial,
And envision myself flowing smoothly alongside her,
An eternal companion, we will flow into the distance, forever together.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Existence


My body is a fluid, it flows with the ebb and tide,
It becomes permeable when pressure is applied,
It floats through this vast expanse with no thought,
No question of when, where, or why….
How did I get here?
I continue to squeeze through this war-torn continuum,
Of space and time, mental and physical.
When will my mind distinguish the boundary lines?
My body continues to float,
It makes its way through a great, placid moat,
I envision myself in the reflection of the water,
But there is nothing, nor will there ever be,
My existence is fake, a falsified showing of life,
O what a waste, what a wretched, despondent display full of strife.
My reflection was not abducted,
Surely, my view was unobstructed,
There was no mistake, no error in my thought,
O how can this happen, from what evil was this nightmare wrought?
I am not here, I never was, and never will,
I dwell on this hard to swallow pill as I continue to float.
I wake up, and free myself from my sweat drenched sheets,
I hit the floor hard upon my feet,
As I launch myself from my bed chamber,
I run to the mirror expecting to see nothing or maybe a face of a stranger.
There lies before me, myself, skin and bone,
O, beautiful flesh I fall to the tile floor, I lay down,
Entrapping myself in a great bear hug,
I have never been so thankful, at my skin I continue to tug,
I am alive and that I will never take for granted,
Never again will I be so disenchanted.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Light vs. Dark


Out of the corner of my eye a dark shadow makes his home,
To his every game, my mind is continually prone,
I turn to stare this devil down,
But where did the dark fiend hide,
He is Nowhere to be found, time, he has begun to bide,
I make my way warily down this sparsely lit Hall,
I take a look behind, ah, was that him over on the wall,
Has my sanity started to unwind?
Sweat crawls carefully down my spine,
As I nervously wait for some type of sign,
That he is there watching me, following my every step,
Out of my mind he refuses to be kept,
The shadow digs into my mind,
Submerges his cat-like claws in my imagination skin,
He refuses to cease, this dark power must win,
I feel like a great owl, my head is on a pivot,
Within my soul, the dark has dug a fear divot,
Made me his captive, a prisoner with no parole,
This shadow knows how to enforce a greater and greater toll.
I have become weary in this constant, ferocious battle,
I feel as though I am following a herd of ignorant cattle,
And succumbing to this ever-present fear,
A word to the wise, don’t allow this evil to come near,
If you give him an inch he will not only pinch,
But he will begin to tear and claw, kicking and screaming,
But not to worry, because there is a flaw within his black heart.
Illumination! I make my way towards a door,
I open it, and in the light begins to pour,
I feel the shadow lunge, trying to grab and pull me back,
But this time he will not win,
He screams in pain as the light tears through his dark matter,
His nightmare flesh begins to tatter,
Leaving him broken and battered.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Escape


I follow a dirt path,
Through the tall grass,
Many a mighty oak I continue to pass,
I reach out and feel the blades bow before my hand,
I feel as though sovereign,
A king of a great land,
As I continue to trek,
I reach the mighty forest,
The sparrows greet me with their beautiful chorus,
I bid my hand to them and say adieu,
I continue to walk, enjoying the wondrous view.
Sun escapes,
Creeping its way through the trees,
It is not all that makes its way through cunningly,
So does a swift yet gentle breeze,
The forest is dark but my heart has never been so light,
My spirit flies high,
Like the flight of a kite,
Fern and frond surround,
Butterfly flutters, I lay on the soft forest ground,
My mind begins to un-clutter,
I look up at the canopy of great, green giants,
And thanks to this escape I feel as though no longer an appliance, of the world,
I will never go back to civility, to that life I so despised,
Where everything seems a copy, a continuous reprise.
I will make my home right here,
This great forest,
This entrancing utopia of no care.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The Meadow


I pace through this meadow with acute benevolence,
I take a breath and close my eyes as I feel the prevalence,
The prevalence of beauty, the wind begins to carry me,
He whispers in my ear, "be not wary of thee,"
I let his soft, cool hands guide me higher and higher
I look down on the meadow and see a disheartening mire,
Of filth and pigs arguing and shouting, how can I get rid of this I ask the wind,
He says without pouting, "the entropy is growing on this earth you see,
You must realize that you are not the only bee,
In this hive of lust and power, truly the world is no longer a beautiful flower, at first you saw only A pristine meadow and all that surrounded you,
Hearken to me for what I‘m about to say is true,
There is no stopping this pain and sorrow,
Only a way to keep up your end of the deal,
The way you do this is to no longer borrow,
Taking from the inconclusive thought process the world has endowed,
Create your own, be proud, your mind is a gift,
A way to heal all those living in pain, it is true you can not change everything,
The moon will continue to wax and wane,
But in your creativity you have already seen differently,
Be confident in your ability to shape a change,
Forever know this when the world calls you ignorant or insane,
Your gift will be questioned, spat upon, disregarded,
But do not be concerned, for with this gift spiritual change has already started."

Monday, March 30, 2009

Worth Mentioning


The Academy Is... show was a memorable performance to say the least. I have now been to three of their shows at the HOB in Dallas. Last night's show was an extremely relaxing acoustic set. Bill covered a couple songs including Marching Bands of Manhattan (Deathcab for Cutie) and Heartbeats (Knife). It was a nice way to end an otherwise crappy weekend. I posted the cover of Marching Bands of Manhattan underneath.


Some other bands to check out for all of those music junkies out there: Search the City, Hit the Lights, This Providence, and Rookie of the Year.....and call me weird but due to studying a lot lately I have been on the lookout for some good instrumental music. Mogwai, God is an Astronaut, Explosions in the Sky are just a few of the bands I've been diggin' lately.

P.s. This may be just a rumor but I've heard about a certain band releasing a clip of some of their new stuff ;-) Boys and girls, I have a quiz for you.....find out who's album art is at the top and you will find the answer to who is releasing new tracks. GOOD LUCK....

Don't Tread On Me



My mind grows like a vine,
Made up of interstellar twine,
The all seeing eye says to get back, get back in line,
But not this time, I shout back unwind, unwind, unwind!

Your place on this earth is a simple state,
You wake from your robotic slumber and once again join the infamous rat race.
About face, the next day comes, you enter your trance,
Will you continue to play this ignorant game, continue to do their repetitive dance.
Take your place back in life, fight back, fight back,
Refuse to pick up their end of the slack!

My mind grows like a vine,
Made up of interstellar twine,
The all seeing eye says to get back, get back in line but this time,
I shout back, unwind, unwind, unwind!

Are we all dumbfounded primates swinging through the steel trees?
Continuing to labor, following orders like a swarm of working bees,
Or are you the one to stand out, the one to take a creative stance,
The one to turn around and pick up your razor edged lance,
Stabbing through the heart of the saw toothed party,
The party that tells you not to be tardy,
What to think, what to eat, how to act,
The time to fight is now, for your vicarious outlook has been viciously attacked!

My mind grows like a vine,
Made up of interstellar twine,
The all seeing eye says to get back, get back in line,
but this time, I shout back, unwind, unwind, unwind!

Pick your weapon of choice,
But this time your selection is deadly,
Your selection is your voice,
More provocative then a sword,
Your demand will be your reward,
You asked for your liberty, your freedom,
But they stare at you with glassy eyes,
This time you will not believe their lies,
Their lies that ask calmly for your steady demise.
If they had it their way you would sink to the murky bottom of the life they choose,
A life full of fallacy, with nothing to prove,
Your goal is to make them greater,
A swifter, more deadly version of what they already are,
But should we all be equal, all hitting par?

My mind grows like a vine,
Made up of interstellar twine,
The all seeing eyes says to get back, get back in line,
but this time, I shout back, unwind, unwind, unwind!

Your incandescent attitude has been proven a cure,
The lines the party drew,
are no longer what they were.
Your decision to provide an incision into the lifestyle they chose,
has now caused a veritable silence, a quiet pause.
A pause that has them feeling the same fear,
They had dealt upon you, it has them wondering is this cause for alarm?
You’ve broken away from the pack,
And now you know to never look back,
The rest of the herd follows your movement with heavy regard,
Their eyes ride you, wondering if you will starve,
They then see there is no danger to such a move,
To think outside the iron box, to find your own groove.
They follow, watching your cognitive evolution,
Surprise, surprise, viva la revolution!

Friday, March 27, 2009

Desolation Desert


Sand bitter, grainy sand surrounds my every move,
Which way, which way, o which way should I choose…
Everywhere I look this desert is never ending,
Into a boiling pot, my brain, the sun is sending.
I follow the rolling hills of white sand with my tired eyes,
Surely there is no end, surely, this is my demise.
I trudge through this inescapable desert, my heart begins to pound,
I strive to scream just to hear the sound
Noise does not escape my vocal chords for my throat is too parched,
My skin, the sun has slowly begun to starch.
I fall into the sand, my face smacks the hot, unforgiving ground,
My head does not move, as I take a look around,
But all I see is pain and suffering, no cure for this hurt,
From the ground I have come, now I must return to the dirt.
I roll onto my back, sun drenched sky is all I see,
I wish to be up there, this is my final plea.
If I had wings, I could fly from this place,
Surely the air is cooler up there, up in outer space.
I would make my home as a celestial being, the stars would be my backyard,
There would never be any grieving.
No funerals, no rumors of war, no pain,
No strife, no need to feed poor,
I would wave the earth goodbye and all of its material items,
I would fly from planet to planet and become as one of the great titans.

BEAR DOWN ARIZONA!!!

This is normally just a forum for my poetry, but I feel like today warrants special attention. In an NCAA tournament where I am used to my Wildcats disappointing me, I am finally on the other end of the equation. My Cats came in this tournament as a twelve seed and to be honest I was just glad they made it to the field of sixty four. They upset Utah, which I honestly didn't think was a very big deal. Then a strange thing happened in the tournament. Cleveland State easily dispatched a seemingly powerful Wake Forest team. The Wildcats would be matched up with Cleveland State in the round of thirty two. The Cats took down the Vikings with ease and suddenly a team that supposedly didn't deserve to be in the tournament would be playing in the sweet sixteen. The reason I am posting this as a blog is all of the nostalgia this tournament has brought. I started remembering all of the great times I have had with my grandparents out in Tucson. Due to my grandpa's position, I have had the unique privilege of meeting some great players such as Richard Jefferson, Gilbert Arenas, Luke Walton, etc... Whether or not Arizona is able to pull a huge upset of Louisville tonight I will continue loving my Cats. Through my years as a fan, I have laughed, cried, screamed, thrown things, been enraged. But this year I have experienced a different emotion. I feel relieved. Relieved that we have found a way into the tournament, relieved that the Cats have a chance to advance, relieved that after all of the drama that has surrounded the program we still stand as elite. Most of all, I am relieved that tonight we have a chance to upend a Louisville program that has been picked by many to win the national championship. We are the underdog this time and you know what? I like being the underdog for a change. Bear down Arizona, Bear down red and blue...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

The Tower


Rejection, the pain I feel inside,
Redemption, my hurt no longer hides,
Escape, getting away from all that which hurts,
Love, something I have found that yearns,
only bringing more feelings that burn, from within,
I can not escape that which lives inside, it makes a hole,
Continues to divide, a powerful presence I can not rid myself of,
Something existential, not from above.
How can you continue to ignore me? Destroy my will, all that I thought which was for me,
Instead, you work against me, continue to kill,
Lying you wait, I begin to grow ill.
My ego was a safe house, now it is not, if this malice continues,
My heart, it will rot, as the flower that decays and withers before the eye,
Do you think I am different, this pain, I can defy?
No, your denial, I admit, has a vice grip on my heart,
Of this feeling, can I ever depart? But wait, within your rejection I have found a flaw,
A single mistake, but indeed, one that I surely saw….
Hate! your hatred betrays you, yes, it begins to flay you,
Like a whip with a power driven hand, your tower,
It will not stand, because of one little bud.
A bud that paws its way through the soil, do you think it will quit,
Rid itself of endless toil? No, this bud, it struggles, it grows, blossoming into a beautiful rose, 
Climbing, reaching, for what, no one yet knows.
Ah, then you see, your hatred hath no power,
For the rose has overshadowed your strong, impenetrable tower.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Gift


Awake!
I rise from my bed, through my dreams, my mind continues to tread,
What a strange picture that plays in my head.
The pain I had felt, was it real or was it not?
A deafening burn likened only to being shot.
From the blades of my shoulder, something was growing,
Of what, I am beyond in my knowing.
Alas, I reached for the pain, but all I found were white, powder feathers,
Was I going insane?
“Surely this can not be happening!” I exclaimed with a shout,
From out of a corner in my mind, came a man without a doubt,
He looked me in the eye,
His stare was ablaze, he barred my way,
I felt as if lost in a never ending maze,
“Help me.” is all I could choke, I fell to the cold, hard ground,
In death surely I would soak.
I peered upward, the man, well, his time worn hand was extended,
His palm was flat, his grasp, was intended.
I reached outward, my bony arm straightened, to get to his hand,
My shoulder was heavy laden.
The man, he changed, the bright gleam in his eye, gone
A shadow of what used to be had now been spawned,
This man I now feel, I must be his pawn.
His hand, he pulled back to his side,
No longer was help offered, I began to cry.
“You are different.” he exclaimed with a yell, “And for that you are punished,”
His voice was robotic, from what I could tell.
A gleaming shovel, in his hands, it was held, of its use,
I do not know all that well
But, then, it became apparent to me, this steel shovel was a parasite of misdeed.
The man began to dig and dig,
With each shovel full of earth he would not renege,
His mistake he was making, of one thing he was sure,
I belonged six feet below, unholy and impure
This man’s name was world, my creativity his sordid victim,
Why this happened, I am surely now stricken.
In the beginning he saw me as the same,
But when he realized I had a gift,
His mood, well, it changed.
Instead of showing me how to utilize my treasure,
He saw it as a curse, from which came no pleasure,
No prize to his purse.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

The Most Beautiful Flower



In the lonely meadow I found a liquid flower,
Its water petals imparted on me a certain power,
The wondrous ability to no longer cower before man,
He would no longer vehemently plan, for me, a life full of exhortation,
Constantly urging me to believe in the fallacy he was selling,
Making a cardboard box my permanent dwelling.
This flower helped me visualize what society believes I should idealize.
Intellectual conglomerates brought technology to ease life’s strain
But modern man tells me that these corporations are just a stain,
A horrible abscess on the skin of the earth,
These socialists tell us we are losing our net worth.
So I guess I should give back all my freedoms,
It’s ok, I don’t really need them.
I will become just like everyone else
And forget a land where I was free to think for myself.
No longer will I drive my car, because it creates carbon tar
That eventually will destroy humanity
Instead, I will designate myself to a life of insanity.
Making the same mistakes that civilization already made,
Following the same streamlined motorcade back into earlier days
Where no roads, car, planes, or trains existed,
I guess this change should not be resisted.
So please, great society, decide what is good for me,
Tell me where I shall be,
In this blueprint of communistic thought and thinking
That will render me speechless, and unblinking,
Forever sinking into my shallow grave,
Where I have no choice but to behave,
Submitting myself to countless rules and regulations
So I can live in a land that is just like all the other nations.
A neutered land without freedom, no fervor in its behavior,
A place that needs a spiritual savior.
I believe in a happening that is worse then death,
A law that tells me how to breathe my own breath.
Thank you for sending this flower,
That shows me I should no longer cower.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Gone But Not Forgotten





I created you with only ink and paper,
You were just a lovely fragment of a memory gone by,
A captured entity of my mind's eye, everywhere I went,
I felt your calming presence,
Overwhelming essence, your wondrous image,
A fractal portrait projected and burned on my soul's screen,
A vision like I had never before seen,
Your inexplicable beauty, stalker of all my thoughts,
So you see, I had to do it, you had to be,
I put my pen to the page,
Became like a renaissance sage,
Described in painstaking detail,
I let my mind set full sail, resurrected your memory from the grave,
I revived your life-stream, for once, death was staved,
As I began to re-create you from cognitive recollection,
My senses drifted through that hellish intersection,
The horrifying night when you were stolen from me,
Though I remember, you left so gracefully.
Tears streamed from my eyes, as you looked up at me,
Smiled, and whispered, my side, you would not leave,
You were not speaking just to be heard,
Your speech was not slurred, and I knew,
Though it seemed impossible, you meant every last word.
Your eyes locked with mine,
As you painfully exhaled one last time,
I watched your soul fade from your tired gaze as the sun does at dusk,
And from that moment on I was haunted,
Tormented by the same sight,
That had for so long been the light, the lantern that lit my path,
The cool breeze that calmed my fiery wrath,
You held me up when I started to fall,
You were the foundation of my heart's inner wall,
A siren, intoxicating my subconscious with a ballad of seduction,
An anthem that fueled my soul's abduction.
You may no longer walk with me on the shores of this old earth,
But through my dreams, I will perpetually witness your rebirth.
When I sleep, I awaken,
To a land where I am no longer forsaken,
You await in a quiet, sun-drenched meadow with arms open wide,
I sit joyously by your side, in you, I am free to confide.
As my pen traverses the bounds of this blank landscape,
I contemplate, the wondrous atrocity of our fateful first meeting,
For that was the day that my heart started beating.
Goodnight my love, may I soon join you, among stars above.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Traveler's Guide to the Path of Ultimate Resistance


I exited my own skin,
I shall never return to that wretched place again,
Found a landscape among the stars,
Left behind the cold, iron bars,
That kept my mind held hostage,
My tired soul a prisoner of my own body,
Life had consistently flogged me
And kept my dreams as subterranean nightmares,
I was stuck in the putrid muck of my own violent fears,
A captive of a materialistic society,
Founded on the basis of unquenchable impropriety.
I will miss my fellow inmates,
May you find my same peace, a last suggestion;
Cut through the camouflage of golden fleece,
Find the ravished wolves among you,
So that they shall not devour your brothers and sister,
Avoid those whose plans are sinister,
They will shackle your livelihood,
Taking away all that is good,
You will be subject to the same perverted illusion,
Subordinate to their demands of delusion.
You will grow tired of living the same, insipid lie,
The one that leads you down a path called demise.
So take a hold of my advice,
Find solitude in escaping the bounds of the existential realm,
Recover a place at your mind's helm,
Navigate the waters of your own imagination,
Refuse the castration, of free will, creative thought,
And you will be glad you had fought.
Continue to live a life outside the traps,
The snares of a robotic existence,
Sometimes the road of resolution,
Is the path of ultimate resistance.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Give Me Liberty or Give Me Annihilation



















The man punishes me, sticks a steel bit in my mouth,
An iron saddle on my back, he takes everything,
Even that which I lack, his sharp spurs dig deep into my side,
I cry out in pain, but he smiles, continues to ride,
I plow his dirt of thistles and thorns, from this ground,
Nothing will be born, except hatred, malice, constant deceit,
But I refuse to, I will not, cannot, accept defeat
I fall to the dirt, taste blood between my teeth,
I close my eyes and pray for some sort of relief
But all I feel is the sting from his hard, leather crop
As he beats me incessantly, refuses to stop
I lay on my bruised back, looking up at the cloudy sky,
That's when I realize, for liberty, I am prepared to die
For what can be worse than losing my own freedom, volition,
The right to make a choice, a forum,
Where I can make loud my angry voice
My soul has been shackled, bridled in heavy chains,
I am left to scrub out the man's guilt-loaded stains
I will not live a life of tragic despair, stuck on the tracks of a train called fear.
The rage rises up within my chest, this is my last attempt,
And I will give it my very best. I lash out with all the fury built up within my soul,
To create a change, well, that is my final goal
I hear him cry out as I begin my last bout, sending my feet into his stomach,
With a satisfying thud, he falls on his back,
I do not give him any time to react
I straddle him, my calloused hands clutching his cold, slimy, throat,
I grow weary of him claiming my hard-earned profits, never again will he gloat.
As I feel the man give away his last breath,
I realize I too, face the blood red door of death.
I see them coming up the grassy hill, their battle-cry is shrill,
They have come for me, to take my life, but all I see is the end of strife.
I sit, feel the warm earth between my fingers,
The feeling of pain no longer lingers,
I close my eyes and feel the cool breeze against my battered skin,
My eyes open and I am in a place I have never been.
For the first time ever, I see the sun set,
This is a sight I shall never forget
They come upon me as ravished wolves upon a sick fawn,
It is true I will not see another dawn, but I fear not
The warm sunset slowly fades,
Into shades of smoky gray,
The light pulsates against my dimming pupils,
They tear me apart with their tools of destruction,
But this begins my plan's construction.
I chuckle, they do not realize their grave misdeed,
For they have sewn the reformation seed. As death grabs ahold,
I see the entire fold, my brothers and sisters witnessed my courageous last stand,
They will take back their once great land.
The men who had all the power will be left only to cower,
Before the raised fist, that rises through the graveyard mist.
Nightfall descends on my own existence,
But I have given birth to a revolutionary resistance.
The citizens march as one, their power, more than that of a loaded gun,
United, a perfect symbol of liberty,
I have reminded them, of what it truly means to be free.

Friday, March 13, 2009

A Riddle



















I stare for hours at if this instrument with such incredible powers.

I bow at its black, plastic body begging to learn all,
But the only thing emitted is a loud droning call,
The sounds of voices from far and wide,
Will this idol change my mind’s tide?
Its litigating voice leaves me in a stubborn, stupefied daze
When will this robotic god help make great my ways?
I wait and watch for hours more,
Its senseless signals meld within my core,
Its gossiping beacon leaves me hypnotized,
O when will I awake, when will I rise,
And realize, that this plastic box of knowledge is merely a hoax,
Made merely to coax, my mind into a dumbfounded
stupor, Of which I will never return, into my brain,
Images are burned, and all that I have learned,
Has caused me to no longer yearn
to be greater than I am, to be a better man.
Instead, I grow gluttonous and lazy,
I’m telling you this, so the box does not slay thee.
My spirit is drowning, in a mindless muck of waste,
My mind is hanging in a uninspired state,
I have asked for answers from this box of retardation
But the only thing this trash can do is turn to the next station.
I push the buttons and beg for answers
But all it does is cause more cancer,
It takes away and strips my knowledge bare,
Causing me to no longer care,
Full of fallacy and fiction this square will not listen.
But, Ahhhh, what is this great button I have found?
I have slain the beast with a push not a pound.
I needed no hammer, no hacksaw, no drill,
O what is this button, o what a great thrill!
My finger feels this little switch called power,
And with a tiny push, I need no longer cower,
Before this box, this beast, this great mind thief,
With one tiny push I have found my relief!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

The Lake

Gentle waves calmly make their way toward rock shore,
The cumulus clouds open like a great, white door,
Revealing light blue, o what a wondrous hue,
The ducks sit on shore, their feathered coat they methodically preen,
I take it all in, this sight, where blue meets green,
And all my vicious, violent thoughts are cast asunder,
O what a view, what great wonder!
The circle of fire slowly begins to hide
Below the horizon, it reluctantly slides,
And bows before the great, pale moon,
Night fall, like a flower, begins to bloom,
The cicada happily sings his soulful tune
As dark descends like a masked caper,
My thoughts ease out onto this blank paper,
I look up and notice across the lake
The asphalt road that continues to snake
Where it leads I do not know
But maybe someday, that way I will blow
Like the gentle wind that whispers at me,
Begging me to stay, that is its plea
I cast my glance at the now pitch black sky,
The moon greets me with a grand surprise
He lays a soft, white carpet of light at my feet
With this great gift, I can not compete
I cry, "O moon, I have nothing in return
, but I do want to give back, for this I yearn!"
The big ball begins to chuckle,
He thumbs his big, crater buckle, "I did not give in order to get,
you owe me nothing, so do not regret.
Now enjoy this beauty that surrounds you,
let it exfoliate your soul, within, it will create new!"
I look out on this window of the world,
At this cloth canvas that was lovingly unfurled
And paint was placed with painstaking detail,
Even the great Van Gogh could not match such a scale.

Nothing happening

Tonight was a rough night for Tim. One too many tests to study for. I had a poem ready for the blog and just couldn't bring myself to do it. Goodnight my fellow space travelers. Keep those imaginations vivid and those minds sharp.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Valiente

Along the sidewalk I stride,
Passing me, a biker rides,
His powerful muscle propels his slender, streamlined vehicle along
His legs pedal to the beat of a competitor's song
All I can think of is you and your spirited love for that bike
Yes, I am sure it was love and not just a strong like
The bike was an extension of your physicality, it brought you freedom
And, I thought, never-ending vitality,
As you pedaled along on one of your last great marathons,
You felt it, I know you did
That burning pain that crept through your lungs, arms, and legs
But this was the lifeblood that ran through your veins
Quitting was not in your vocabulary
So it was only fitting that you finish this last great race
And I wonder when my mind begins to bring back your face
Along with thoughts of courage and determination
I wonder if in a simple act of propitiation
In order to appease your tireless soul
Your brain gathered up one last scene from the memory bowl
As doctor and nurse scuttled all around you
Your soul saw a completely different view
You stood with your bike, handlebars gripped tight
As you watched the slowly descending night,
The beauty of nature all surrounding
You felt your heart, within you, it was pounding
And as you prepared to leap back on your bike
A smile crept up on your face
A smile that was begging for that last great race.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Cocaine Habitat

I snort it to live, for it is my oxygen,
It enters my bloodstream and at once makes life seem,
So much more fruitful, easy to bare,
It takes me to an oasis where,
I no longer must deal with the demon's constant squeal,
Instead I reside in a symbiotic state,
One where my dream is my fate,
My imagination's plate, is full of life's feast.
There is no more taking bad with the good,
My existence is finally as it should, be.
I may no longer be healthy, full of vitality,
But it is a small price to pay to leave normality.
My outer shell is dying,
But on the inside I am flying,
Across the vast expanse of space and time,
Leave me be while I live another line.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

The Loneliest Road

My feet create a beat on that rarely-traveled street
Vicious cold, ever so bold, bites at my tender skin
Surrounding this street, no buildings, no houses,
My ears, the silence liberally douses
Bare field and frozen plane is all that my sight seizes,
This perfect picture of isolation, my memory freezes
As my feet create a beat on that rarely-traveled street
I pull tensely at my jacket,
Pleading for warmth to return to my frigid bones,
This cold owns, encapsulates my body in frozen shackles,
Like a maniac it cackles, at my peril
Person after person passes me on the street,
They offer neither a hello nor goodbye,
They do not answer my desperate cries
Their faces are blank, they are nameless creatures,
With no memorable features, they walk on,
Into the valley of oblivion, into the dark matter,
As my feet create a beat on that rarely-traveled street
The crowd begins to grow tighter, building in number,
Their marching, the sound of echoing thunder
I feel myself begin to choke as they pull me into the cloak,
Of darkness and despair, that horrific land where,
Hopes and dreams are dashed to pieces,
Creativity ceases and artistic endeavor is not an option
I am caught up in this flock like a ship in a storm,
Tossed about, battered and torn.
My ears ring, as the crowd sings,
The same verse, of the same chorus,
This song is porous, containing no soul,
Riddled with countless holes
This road is called death and I am its victim,
All is lonely, in life’s eviction.
Surrounded by all but surrounded by none,
My race has been run, my story is done.
Alas, I have left a novel of incomplete tales,
Where the central character always fails.
I continue down the avenue, into the dark,
Silent is the once tireless lark.
All my fears have come to a head
On this walk that I always did dread
My heart does not beat on that rarely-traveled street.

The Beauty of Happiness

I feel the ice flow through my veins
Within my tired body, the cold slowly stains, my spirit
I can no longer bare it
This pain eats away
Destroying all, why I am I here?
What is life's call?
I open my dreary window and to my great surprise
I feel the wind blow
I look out, ecstatic to see
This beautiful world that lies before me
Great, green rain forest, snow-capped mountains
Endless desert, gushing fountains
Bustling city, arctic glaciers
How could I have missed out on such wondrous nature?
My heart begins to beat again
My frozen blood, thaws within
Joy returns in my soul, it digs in
Takes back control, from that ugly demon of sadness
That nearly drove me into perpetual madness
Change is coming, in a downpour
It presents itself, to my life,
This change brings great wealth
Before this moment, my existence was that of a ship
Wrecked on a reef of self-pity and despair
I sought out happiness but found it nowhere
Now my life has finally evolved
Torturous feelings have been resolved
I now realize life is not just a monotonous task
Instead, in its warm rays, I shall bask
Enjoying the beauty all around
No longer am I a ship, run aground.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

The Tree

I reach softly into my chest and pull out my still beating heart
I claw at the earth with bloodied hands
Maybe if I commit this one final act of love
I can supply her demands
I plant my heart beneath the soil
My soul watches as my heart tirelessly toils
Takes root, then sprouts up through the eroded ground
Do you hear the echoing sound?
My heart pulsates below the surface of the earth
Trying to prove to her its worth
With each beat the sprout grows, into what?
No one quite knows
First a shrub, then a tree
From the bounds of pain
My heart desires to be freed
My blood nourishes like water, the beautiful red leaves
The tree has found life
Through its existence, I begin to breathe
I watch her as she rests under the shade of my branches
She stands majestically, gracefully dances
Through my dreams, the innermost hollows of my mind
But in reality I find
She stands away from my bark exterior
Away from my loving grasp
She stares as if looking into the den of the most venomous asp
In desperation I plead for assistance from the wind
He complies, rushes through my limbs
Allowing them to bend
I bow before her, I present her with my fruit of labor
But this does not effect my favor
In her eyes I am still despised
Destined to stay rooted in my own demise.