The Eye
The poems in this section, "The Eye," mostly pertain to social issues, sanity, or personal opinions of mine on various subjects.
No Title
The pain from the swamps of teenage apathy,
Is a reverberating pain, nobody will be the same
Omnipresent psychopathic male teenagers...
Lament for their rude coming
Who are eager for the slow dripping night
Ineffable name of the young daughter's sins
Her slightly older boyfriend stands there and grins
Wildflower daughter anxiously awaiting self-satisfaction by means of selflessness
Exploited and veered away from the American Dream
The boyfriend looks at her and another girl during the now stimulating class
Breaking the silence, a sleeping noise
Around the blame then came...
A metaphorical crack of the ruler against the mahogany desk
No reaction; class continues
The Queen Bee
The mind of the brand new queen fades into the pitch black void...
She opens her eyes to return to a white nightmare
And as she gasps for air she momentarily drowns
Gagging and spitting; wicked laughter surrounds her
The queen is defiled and humiliated immortally
A victim of a dream that conquered the banal
She's a queen just for the much needed money
Running down her body is reproductive honey
It's not sweet
But it's what the swarm of worker bees secrete
She later returns to her throne, alone
The queen lies down, thinking, trembling
The queen's introspection,
Causes bound tears and a vacant, aimless stare
The bright ceiling light shines down on her face
She closes her eyes
Her red vision soon becomes saturated with hopelessness
The hopelessness turns her vision darker than pitch black
Subscription
An ongoing strife
With a subscription to life
Cancel it with a hesitant cut from a dark, cold knife
Slowly but surely we will all fall
While answering life's subtle clarion call
Grains of sand in humanity's unmerciful hour glass
Calibrated by immorality and social class
Waking up to a lifeless subscription is painless
But the subscription is boring, stale, and full of obsessiveness
Musical Thought Processing
Whistle the tunes of tomorrow
Listen to those of yesterday
Where one is driven by ambition and dreams
The other is influence and nostalgia
Some heard can bring a crowd
Others find the amicability too loud
A force of numbers driven by another's opinions
Which bleed and race along separate, impressionable tissues of sins
A clash with unsympathetic law
Here stops the opinions from all
Blood is soaked up by nothing this time
But, rather hosed off like insecticide coated, fresh, sour limes
Forgotten by some, the war of music and propaganda
Little One
Little one, don't worry
The world is just in a hurry
Rest your head on the synthetic down pillow
Play underneath the indifferent weeping willow
Cut the lies of the ties towards Earth
Where you play now will soon be of little worth
Little one, now is the time to panic
The people of the world have gone into a manic
Cynical Idealist
Walking past the moonlight
Into the dark, frozen trailer
There sits shivering people
Absorbing the pain and hunger around them
Passing into a new hope, which may be hopeless for few
And a struggle for all
When it stops it will either be good, exciting, and liberating, or ugly, stomach dropping, and lost
Ambition is the crutch for two broken legs
Struggle is as apparent as blood on an otherwise clean, white T- shirt
Would this be helpful to the name of freedom and liberty?
Or cause an angry giant to weaken and get down on it's fat knees
The color of green is far too far to be seen
And as moods are blue, employers are red in fury
Amicable family is there for a lift and support
Conceive of a world that won't be run by queenless ants nor a queen bee
Yet everybody be free
No gap between fat and anorexic
A birth of a new nation, a new world
I am an idealist, yes
But I am also a shallow cynic
A Mind Filled With Fate
The feces of the mind are eclipsing the cold, grey man's judgment
Past times were soaked in hatred and bitterness
Creating waste consisting of bacteria-like and non-nutritious laden memories
The mind is starting to decay
Responsibility for one's own actions
Geared up and prepared for the city's factions
Is this the price to pay?
Mass murderer, mind murdered
He cannot escape the sword fate wields
The Push
Push...
The fallen glass shatters and dust rises from the experienced wooden floor
Life passing before s too quickly to be seen
Confusion in the atmosphere centered on the remote hand
Acid drops from the similar hand
The man trips over his hands
Strobe feelings?
Red wine on the floor
The head opened the door
Remorse, none, gone, dead
The imbalanced head
Deceased...
Wabi-Sabi
Perfection: strive to be, already are
Flawed: a duality, a paradox
Everything is flawed, flaws are what makes things whole
Define an imperfect circle as a circle, then it's a perfect circle
Perfection is always flawed
Flaws are the substance that make perfection
Symmetry makes one jaded
It makes one not notice
One's memories soon become faded
Without sadness life would have no bliss
One vibrant-green brick in a stale wall of maroon
Off-center, low, and to the right
The face of the man in the moon
One's still able to see either even after losing their sight
Miss Office Title '72
She screams seemingly silently into the howling, powerful wind
Against a composite of prejudice, erecting a Goliath
Many blue moons have passed, she is where no one else has been
Against a bricolage defense formed from a junkyard of monstrous area
Enemies and brainwashed traitors and the duality of equality judge
A victory for her would cause male, white hysteria
The position she held, she did not clutch with full strength
Most her strength was put in storage for what others see as deprecated ambitions
She views these ambitions as pseudo-elevated, that is, normal, but seen by opponents as being great in length
The trial passed by in a hurry with much ado by the press
The verdict was in, her ethics sling was apparently too weak
Though, the people behind her heard her scream, and the revolution, they caressed
The Video Star
Taking an oath to kill the radio star
To bring a revolutionary medium for an evolving art
And to bring down the Western corporate czar
Entertainment for the future bleeding hearts
Slowly but surely the reality set in
A new soulless generation begging for instant gratification
Gradually the color green covers your greedy skin
Guilty pleasures and guilty of going on a permanent vacation
You're a parent of daughters who grow up not far from the younger tree
As soon as the young reach adolescence they conform to your current greed
Deviating from dual expression and then selling out in glee
Capitalizing on taboos and hate is the new life you chose to lead
Neologism
A word undefined may have its meaning mined
A word with meaning has its definition bleeding
Archaic eventually, but reincarnated creatively
Ambiguous words have no interpretation that is absurd
Subjective even in context, yet little modification to the word that's next
Anything can mean anything as long it brings an understanding
Creationism brings forth a vocabulary of neologisms
Words assemble into a life making a husband for an undecided wife
One who understands and takes human language by the hand
The Infamous Target
The man known by all is a target of ridicule
Hypersensitively judged and seen by many as cruel
Ravishing possessions and esoteric fame makes us jealous
Which may or may not cause our actions towards him to be zealous
Expectations beyond any of that which are human
Some don't see humanity but an object for lust and other sins
Omnipotence, some may see
A picture in a museum be he
A vow to a life without privacy
A vow to an opinionated mind with forced everlasting vacancy
Blamed once by one, forgotten
Blamed twice in public, blamed forever and deemed rotten
So Bored
A whisper from an unknown, ghostly source
A hasty look around reveals nothing
Lament for the body while the mind feels remorse
Only in the mind can it be heard or seen
Knocks coming from the dark back door
Whispers return in a haunting phase
The stimulated mind erroneously captures the demon's roars
Sending the nervous system into a craze
Tossing and turning stirs the bedroom that was just sonic-free
Sweat soaked and drained, waking up devours
Devours the dream, reaching for decaffeinated tea
A dream, a goal, to fill boring hours
Butterfly Effect
The delicate flap of a butterfly's wings
The hostile, grey wind sings
One life changed, oh so subtly
Will change the lives of everybody
Fate doesn't adapt to the change
Fate is clairvoyant, static, and prearranged
It knows even the most trivial things that each of us know
Not so trivial when the winds of death blow
Matter, energy, history, interactions
All control each and every one of our decisions
Ever-changing futures are a bloated lie
As we live under the forgiving sky
A life that's banal is banal because of a history of cowardice
Cowardly because of interactions with dominant males who have minds full of piss
Being a submissive male engulfs one's dreams because of negative energy of much worth
Energy programming grey matter and thus the matter of body and then Earth
The Niche
The niches of the networks never stop devolving
Throwing aside the Warhol voices singing
Pseudo-reality, the apple in the Garden of Eden
Appealing to apathetic drones and perfect tens
I watch, because of absence of meaning
I am a hypocrite, with my dignity screaming
Delving into the acted lives of others
Hiding my proud face underneath the deceitful covers
I digress, for I am one of many
Helping the soulless butterflies grab every penny
Caterpillars never taught to be themselves
Peer pressure placing the goal on the top shelves
There are always those who are faithful to the niche
Perceiving the slow, dripping metamorphoses of a loyalty glitch
The Man
The delirious man thinks the world revolves around him
Not superficially, not shallowly, not even egotistically
A false child of the Universal omnipotence
Put forth your philosophy into his wide open, impressionable mind
Cognitive thoughts and rituals hinder the hermit
Who dances around his home to incite sunshine in his mind
Scattered clouds, shadows, then light
Then, shadows again
It's almost like the world is a puppet controlled by his hands
Hands which are possessed by another being
It's all in his tortured, magical mind
Beyond help, whimpering, gambling with sanity as he compulsively says some words or thinks a ritualistic thought
Sometimes, Only in our Dreams
Tim and Elaine were two lovers
Dreams and goals stuffed deep under the chameleon covers
Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
Another nightmare, to Elaine, it seems
"What's the matter, honey?" She asks gracefully
"Nothing, Elaine, get some rest"
Tim walks into the bathroom and turns on the sink
Out it flows clear, clean water which he splashes on his sweaty, chiseled face
The shattering of glass!
The inserted memory of the past
Elaine lifeless on the bed
The mattress is stained crimson-red
"Who's there?" Tim asks while shaking
The sudden loud slam of the back door
He sees nothing
The haunting absence of a dial tone, his adrenaline soars
He darts over to Elaine's body quickly
Though he sees she's incapable of being saved as she lies there looking sickly
Tim, hungry for vengeance, grabs his pistol from the mahogany nightstand drawer
More inserted memories appear
Concealing the weapon, he runs to the neighbor's house
Knocking on the door, he gets the man's spouse
"Call the police!" Tim exclaims in panic
"What have you done for me, Tim?" She asks
Tim goes into a fit
Frantically running around suburbia
He sees no sign of the intruder
Until out of the corner of his eye...
A man is there pointing a pistol at Tim's head
Tim's head looks up at the sky
"Remember me?" The pistol wielding man asks angrily
The neighbor, whose wife Tim sought for help, is about to have vengeance and the last laugh
Tim repeats in his head, "No, no, no."
*Click*
Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
A drama king, to Elaine, it seems
"What the fuck is your problem, Tim?" She yells
Tim does not answer
He gets off the unnatural yellow mattress and goes to the bathroom
The rusty, grungy faucet pours out nightmares of brown liquid
Tim splashes it against his unshaven face
Police sirens are audible
Liquor bottles scattered around
Tim grabs one that's halfway empty and chugs it down
He's had enough dreams for tonight
The Everlasting Epiphany
An elevated state of mind
Sublime neurons of many
The heightened ability to perceive
An everlasting epiphany
To scale Mount Olympus
Opening a third eye
Lying wide awake in bed
Staring at the infinite sky
A half-constant realization
The meaning of life
Somewhat euphoric and fully aware
The human struggle and strife
Everlasting but breaking
Swallowed and digested by sleep
In your body and mind forever
It's the Enlightenment you keep
The Game
Athletic toning is as important as spiritual
A pre-game prayer is fitting
on the ball, the mind on the Heavens
Hoping to feel the post-game sting
The game for all glory and honor
The game where losers will play many more
The game for all eternal riches and Nirvana
Where the souls of the winners will soar
To Be
Be true to your soul and let it guide you
For there are thousands of years of two-faced people who conform to be a part of the survivors
Survival of the fittest
The fittest for battle
One mind to conquer life solely
Pure, pristine
Inner being washed clean
To be part of a militarily fortified kingdom
Is not the way to reach the kingdoms of spirituality
You are who you are and are not what your mind wants
You are what your soul wants
Listen to your family calling you
For they are your clique in lieu
In lieu of the false, changing people out to convert you
Handwriting
Handwriting is an art which everybody is equally talented in doing
Infinite styles and techniques which assemble into a meaning
A meaning usually lucid and flowing
A meaning consolidated from aesthetics and literacy
Inspired with the light bulb glowing
Perceiving any way it be
A language without letters:
Communication hindered
Spoken mind halted
Ignorance littered
Ideas assaulted
Ideas never sprawl
A primitive society
A structure of expression without a wall
This language would be no medium for me
Winds of Winter
The painful winds of winter blow bitterly cold
Marking doom for the mad shunned from their own mind or ambitions
Frost bitten
Lucid dreams are just that
Just dreams
Idea
An idea, put forth to creation
Immortal, brilliant in any aspect
Better Being
Sometimes chameleons are green
Sitting on an allied leaf
Camouflaged in their surroundings they cannot be seen
Capture and humiliate
Superior intelligence does not make a better being
Master Mind
Somber moods hereon age of twenty-two
The bang of something outside
Or was it inside?
He investigates to only find a rotting mind
Taking him for another adrenaline ride
Being the center of attention
In thought
Acting amicably in words, actions, and thought
Trying to impress in words, actions, and thought
He's just a slave
A slave with no master
Checking the digital footprints
No breadcrumbs left
Compulsory
The mind is the master
Unfit for relaxation
Sisyphus's descendant
Freezing
The cold of winter freezes the summer lake
Like the darkness of winter freezes our joy
Only the warmness of fellow man can thaw the frozen emotions
The Vanity Mirror Doesn't Make You Disappear
The laughing continues to expand in Haley's head
Getting louder and more insulting
And to silence it she has a vow to disappear or be dead
Ironic, body and mind melting
Abstinence from fueling herself daily
Expelling demons from her body artificially
The true demons remain inside, haunting Haley
With her own mind being her biggest bully
Body dysmorphic and self-conscious
Bleeding and tortured hourly and beat
Willfully starved for months and years, hence,
Her body surrenders from shock on the city streets
The Children's Mind
Children in a wasteland
A wasteland of chemical pollutants
A wasteland of emotional pollutants
Contorting the child's body and mind
The trauma of criminal parents and agonizing separation
The unrelated, hodgepodge family for children's rights judging the ones who care for them little, yet the most
The acorn never falls far from the tree
Exponential and perpetual assimilation
The impassive trees are more fertile
Addiction, the pain of false joy
Creeping up on the continent
Littered adults, hence littered youth
The Acorn that Fell Close to the Tree
Allusions to previous masters in the current master's mind
The tainted youth are victims of Stockholm syndrome
The thoughts razed and morals you will not find
Pillaging through child sanctuary with in hand a bottle of rum
Supportive only in the athletic mind
Knowledge forgotten or ignored
Even sold for a nickel and dime
As the lions of ignorance roared
Buyers Beware
Ignorance binds the hearts and minds of that which are of the generation of now and tomorrow
That which will live in sorrow
Apathy for the world and dreams of humans
For these are eclipsed by the rift of known men and women
The view into the lives of others
Golden accomplishments the media smothers
The Windows to the Soul
The only way to look into both of somebody's eyes is to look past them
Then, you stare into their soul and see the real person you're looking at
Eyes are a two way port
They may let you not seem so short
Eyes aid your emotions as do your ears
You can look at a picture and almost hear what's going on
Every Day
Life revolves around each and every individual day
Life is dependent
We feel the fluctuations of each day
Each day is independent
For some, every day is like a finger print
Each day leaving its own unique mark
For others, every day is everyday
Redundant and torturous
When looking back, the memories are like music to the ears
Like the unique crunching noise of a ubiquitously written on notebook as the pages turn
Nostalgia can at times be bitter-sweet
Yet makes us feel alive
The Profane
The sacred words of yesteryear are now profane
The profane words of the future are now sacred
The profane words of now will soon be indifferent
To Be a Victim
A body emits an aura
It can be many colors
Red with anger
Blue with sorrow
Yellow with hope
A victim emits a violet aura
As long as they think which they are labeled
A label for what they think
A vulnerable catch 22
Able to be defeated by an epiphany and self-reflection
Sever the worn ties to the present and past
Cast aside the self-pity and be
No one likes somebody who wallows in their own self- worthlessness
Of own circumstance, they are brought to naught
But when they have that epiphany, they will be something again
And then emit a golden aura
Crap-shoot
Living life is a crap-shoot, a cliché I know
And too high of a bet can leave you in the gutter
No wagers at all makes you no more richer of a person
Cheat, and someone will throw you out of the casino
Chaos in the Mind
Alone in a remote location
Tranquil but frightening
Feverish mind
Absence of life bleeds from the brain
A torture to many but a necessity to some
Escape from the solitary nothingness
The void
Or escape from claustrophobic dense life to the lake in the mountains
Different strokes
Boredom for both? No, chaos
Chaos in the mind from no one hearing your voice, body, or soul
Or chaos in and from the city which harmfully affects the mind
Deer
Deer
Majestic, innocent
Eat out of my docile hand
The deer untarnished by human contact
Humans meant to bring harm are shunned away
Dynamic humans
I once was harmful
Nature embraced me
Animals changed me
I cannot feel indiscriminate fear
I cannot see what I hear
I adapt
Which can potentially and ironically cause my fall
Yet I'm stronger
Snow in a Jar
Snow in a jar
Brought inside to the warm home
Symbolic for most life
Not human
To Awake
Hail Earth!
The human dream
To die is to awake
Trapped immortally in a pseudo-reality
He's the only one alive
He's the only one alive
What he sees is what he gets
What he thinks is what he gets
Brain waves monitored immorally
Eyes are like photo portals
Light traveling through his body indefinitely
To ask a question is to answer it himself
To meet someone is to have known them for years
For Earth is the human dream
But only one way to be certain
For him to awake
The Pillow
The pillow to hold one person's history
The pillow to hold the knowledge of ancestors
Fluff it often
It is the head's mother
Rejuvenate
Protect
Reflect
Heal
Hooded Man
The hooded man in black is a traitor to the human race
By his logic, he shall fall by his own hand
A rift in justice to come
The Journey Through Comprehension
The further comprehension expands
The more we fear our future
Now lusting for ignorance
A wasteful time in the expressive species
Life brought to naught by ambition
A gun to the head because of human desecration
History and actions crueler than previously known
The American 50s wore a leather S&M hood
We will never know the suffering of man
Until the new world comes around
Brought by arrogance
Brought by ourselves
The human comprehension evolution expands minute by minute
It may soon evolve to naught
With so many triumphs for which we've fought
Which will be nullified and erased from history
Immortal structures razed
An undefined history
Because of brilliance bound with arrogance and crazed
The evolution of human technology
Depends on our universal comprehension
The minds of the geniuses
To be put on either infinite or non-existent gratitude pension
A moth to a candle
And humanity to comprehension
Attracted to which can potentially destroy
Instinct, intrigue, or fun
Hungry for a white disaster
And eager for other's lament
Laughing eyes in the skull
A journey to which yourself have sent
Imperfect Looks
Beauty; sublime, subconscious
Erected by media, society, and the famous
Celebrities on TV, in newspapers
Media which provides such
Society influencing celebrities and the media
Society influenced by celebrities and the media
Circular dependencies
The young girl, forced, by the brainwashing of her parents, into the guild of battered and broken souls
Competing for trivial prizes and frivolous fame
Contorting, warping the young girl's conscience
Eight to eighteen and self-deemed imperfect
In her own mind becoming a reject
Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours will never make her into Barbie
She constantly stares and picks at her plastic mask
And as she looks into her own eyes in the mirror, she sees an untamed beast hungry for pride
But it will never get fed as she desecrates her own head
Clowns
Effortlessly, impassively, a life struck down
The phobia of clowns
In the path of spurious honor, it stands no more
Oh, how the fire below adores
Music
Merry, merry, merry-go-round
Taking your body for a round trip
While listening to that sound
Static Shock
A static shock
Walk proudly, or else your body, the forces will mock
When the Horror Comes
The vernal blooming of the new generation of hate
Converted by a quest, a goal for freedom
Ironic and for sale
And praying for when the horror will come
The watchers gaze at the mischief
Jaded soon, desensitized
A quagmire, lasting in terms of power
The minds of the millions no longer hypnotized
The Man Who Wanted to Meet His Son
A couple of friends and I were walking by the lake
The lake with no face
A pile of leaves, we came by, next to a rake
The man who lived there was elderly and reclusive
He was still mourning the loss of his son
His son was murdered and his soul was sold
The waves of the lake were trying to come over the top of the rocks which made up the shore
Spontaneously, the wind moaned like a whore
The pile of leaves no longer a pile
Each leaf went their own way, however, some tangled up with each other for awhile
A storm seemed to have improvised its way into the chilly autumn day
The rain's intensity gradually built up
We ran under an awning to be okay
We conspired about making a run for my cottage about a half mile down
And then, an ear blistering sound
Lightning had struck the old man's house and it burst into flames
He ran outside and looked at his home and sky in disbelief
Like he just wasn't seeing his house smoldering but maybe in some kind of relief
Then, without warning, another crack of thunder into our ears
The man was gone but we knew he was just there
And when we were about to run, the dark clouds went away making room for the Sun
Just like that is was over
No Title
The pain from the swamps of teenage apathy,
Is a reverberating pain, nobody will be the same
Omnipresent psychopathic male teenagers...
Lament for their rude coming
Who are eager for the slow dripping night
Ineffable name of the young daughter's sins
Her slightly older boyfriend stands there and grins
Wildflower daughter anxiously awaiting self-satisfaction by means of selflessness
Exploited and veered away from the American Dream
The boyfriend looks at her and another girl during the now stimulating class
Breaking the silence, a sleeping noise
Around the blame then came...
A metaphorical crack of the ruler against the mahogany desk
No reaction; class continues
The Queen Bee
The mind of the brand new queen fades into the pitch black void...
She opens her eyes to return to a white nightmare
And as she gasps for air she momentarily drowns
Gagging and spitting; wicked laughter surrounds her
The queen is defiled and humiliated immortally
A victim of a dream that conquered the banal
She's a queen just for the much needed money
Running down her body is reproductive honey
It's not sweet
But it's what the swarm of worker bees secrete
She later returns to her throne, alone
The queen lies down, thinking, trembling
The queen's introspection,
Causes bound tears and a vacant, aimless stare
The bright ceiling light shines down on her face
She closes her eyes
Her red vision soon becomes saturated with hopelessness
The hopelessness turns her vision darker than pitch black
Subscription
An ongoing strife
With a subscription to life
Cancel it with a hesitant cut from a dark, cold knife
Slowly but surely we will all fall
While answering life's subtle clarion call
Grains of sand in humanity's unmerciful hour glass
Calibrated by immorality and social class
Waking up to a lifeless subscription is painless
But the subscription is boring, stale, and full of obsessiveness
Musical Thought Processing
Whistle the tunes of tomorrow
Listen to those of yesterday
Where one is driven by ambition and dreams
The other is influence and nostalgia
Some heard can bring a crowd
Others find the amicability too loud
A force of numbers driven by another's opinions
Which bleed and race along separate, impressionable tissues of sins
A clash with unsympathetic law
Here stops the opinions from all
Blood is soaked up by nothing this time
But, rather hosed off like insecticide coated, fresh, sour limes
Forgotten by some, the war of music and propaganda
Little One
Little one, don't worry
The world is just in a hurry
Rest your head on the synthetic down pillow
Play underneath the indifferent weeping willow
Cut the lies of the ties towards Earth
Where you play now will soon be of little worth
Little one, now is the time to panic
The people of the world have gone into a manic
Cynical Idealist
Walking past the moonlight
Into the dark, frozen trailer
There sits shivering people
Absorbing the pain and hunger around them
Passing into a new hope, which may be hopeless for few
And a struggle for all
When it stops it will either be good, exciting, and liberating, or ugly, stomach dropping, and lost
Ambition is the crutch for two broken legs
Struggle is as apparent as blood on an otherwise clean, white T- shirt
Would this be helpful to the name of freedom and liberty?
Or cause an angry giant to weaken and get down on it's fat knees
The color of green is far too far to be seen
And as moods are blue, employers are red in fury
Amicable family is there for a lift and support
Conceive of a world that won't be run by queenless ants nor a queen bee
Yet everybody be free
No gap between fat and anorexic
A birth of a new nation, a new world
I am an idealist, yes
But I am also a shallow cynic
A Mind Filled With Fate
The feces of the mind are eclipsing the cold, grey man's judgment
Past times were soaked in hatred and bitterness
Creating waste consisting of bacteria-like and non-nutritious laden memories
The mind is starting to decay
Responsibility for one's own actions
Geared up and prepared for the city's factions
Is this the price to pay?
Mass murderer, mind murdered
He cannot escape the sword fate wields
The Push
Push...
The fallen glass shatters and dust rises from the experienced wooden floor
Life passing before s too quickly to be seen
Confusion in the atmosphere centered on the remote hand
Acid drops from the similar hand
The man trips over his hands
Strobe feelings?
Red wine on the floor
The head opened the door
Remorse, none, gone, dead
The imbalanced head
Deceased...
Wabi-Sabi
Perfection: strive to be, already are
Flawed: a duality, a paradox
Everything is flawed, flaws are what makes things whole
Define an imperfect circle as a circle, then it's a perfect circle
Perfection is always flawed
Flaws are the substance that make perfection
Symmetry makes one jaded
It makes one not notice
One's memories soon become faded
Without sadness life would have no bliss
One vibrant-green brick in a stale wall of maroon
Off-center, low, and to the right
The face of the man in the moon
One's still able to see either even after losing their sight
Miss Office Title '72
She screams seemingly silently into the howling, powerful wind
Against a composite of prejudice, erecting a Goliath
Many blue moons have passed, she is where no one else has been
Against a bricolage defense formed from a junkyard of monstrous area
Enemies and brainwashed traitors and the duality of equality judge
A victory for her would cause male, white hysteria
The position she held, she did not clutch with full strength
Most her strength was put in storage for what others see as deprecated ambitions
She views these ambitions as pseudo-elevated, that is, normal, but seen by opponents as being great in length
The trial passed by in a hurry with much ado by the press
The verdict was in, her ethics sling was apparently too weak
Though, the people behind her heard her scream, and the revolution, they caressed
The Video Star
Taking an oath to kill the radio star
To bring a revolutionary medium for an evolving art
And to bring down the Western corporate czar
Entertainment for the future bleeding hearts
Slowly but surely the reality set in
A new soulless generation begging for instant gratification
Gradually the color green covers your greedy skin
Guilty pleasures and guilty of going on a permanent vacation
You're a parent of daughters who grow up not far from the younger tree
As soon as the young reach adolescence they conform to your current greed
Deviating from dual expression and then selling out in glee
Capitalizing on taboos and hate is the new life you chose to lead
Neologism
A word undefined may have its meaning mined
A word with meaning has its definition bleeding
Archaic eventually, but reincarnated creatively
Ambiguous words have no interpretation that is absurd
Subjective even in context, yet little modification to the word that's next
Anything can mean anything as long it brings an understanding
Creationism brings forth a vocabulary of neologisms
Words assemble into a life making a husband for an undecided wife
One who understands and takes human language by the hand
The Infamous Target
The man known by all is a target of ridicule
Hypersensitively judged and seen by many as cruel
Ravishing possessions and esoteric fame makes us jealous
Which may or may not cause our actions towards him to be zealous
Expectations beyond any of that which are human
Some don't see humanity but an object for lust and other sins
Omnipotence, some may see
A picture in a museum be he
A vow to a life without privacy
A vow to an opinionated mind with forced everlasting vacancy
Blamed once by one, forgotten
Blamed twice in public, blamed forever and deemed rotten
So Bored
A whisper from an unknown, ghostly source
A hasty look around reveals nothing
Lament for the body while the mind feels remorse
Only in the mind can it be heard or seen
Knocks coming from the dark back door
Whispers return in a haunting phase
The stimulated mind erroneously captures the demon's roars
Sending the nervous system into a craze
Tossing and turning stirs the bedroom that was just sonic-free
Sweat soaked and drained, waking up devours
Devours the dream, reaching for decaffeinated tea
A dream, a goal, to fill boring hours
Butterfly Effect
The delicate flap of a butterfly's wings
The hostile, grey wind sings
One life changed, oh so subtly
Will change the lives of everybody
Fate doesn't adapt to the change
Fate is clairvoyant, static, and prearranged
It knows even the most trivial things that each of us know
Not so trivial when the winds of death blow
Matter, energy, history, interactions
All control each and every one of our decisions
Ever-changing futures are a bloated lie
As we live under the forgiving sky
A life that's banal is banal because of a history of cowardice
Cowardly because of interactions with dominant males who have minds full of piss
Being a submissive male engulfs one's dreams because of negative energy of much worth
Energy programming grey matter and thus the matter of body and then Earth
The Niche
The niches of the networks never stop devolving
Throwing aside the Warhol voices singing
Pseudo-reality, the apple in the Garden of Eden
Appealing to apathetic drones and perfect tens
I watch, because of absence of meaning
I am a hypocrite, with my dignity screaming
Delving into the acted lives of others
Hiding my proud face underneath the deceitful covers
I digress, for I am one of many
Helping the soulless butterflies grab every penny
Caterpillars never taught to be themselves
Peer pressure placing the goal on the top shelves
There are always those who are faithful to the niche
Perceiving the slow, dripping metamorphoses of a loyalty glitch
The Man
The delirious man thinks the world revolves around him
Not superficially, not shallowly, not even egotistically
A false child of the Universal omnipotence
Put forth your philosophy into his wide open, impressionable mind
Cognitive thoughts and rituals hinder the hermit
Who dances around his home to incite sunshine in his mind
Scattered clouds, shadows, then light
Then, shadows again
It's almost like the world is a puppet controlled by his hands
Hands which are possessed by another being
It's all in his tortured, magical mind
Beyond help, whimpering, gambling with sanity as he compulsively says some words or thinks a ritualistic thought
Sometimes, Only in our Dreams
Tim and Elaine were two lovers
Dreams and goals stuffed deep under the chameleon covers
Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
Another nightmare, to Elaine, it seems
"What's the matter, honey?" She asks gracefully
"Nothing, Elaine, get some rest"
Tim walks into the bathroom and turns on the sink
Out it flows clear, clean water which he splashes on his sweaty, chiseled face
The shattering of glass!
The inserted memory of the past
Elaine lifeless on the bed
The mattress is stained crimson-red
"Who's there?" Tim asks while shaking
The sudden loud slam of the back door
He sees nothing
The haunting absence of a dial tone, his adrenaline soars
He darts over to Elaine's body quickly
Though he sees she's incapable of being saved as she lies there looking sickly
Tim, hungry for vengeance, grabs his pistol from the mahogany nightstand drawer
More inserted memories appear
Concealing the weapon, he runs to the neighbor's house
Knocking on the door, he gets the man's spouse
"Call the police!" Tim exclaims in panic
"What have you done for me, Tim?" She asks
Tim goes into a fit
Frantically running around suburbia
He sees no sign of the intruder
Until out of the corner of his eye...
A man is there pointing a pistol at Tim's head
Tim's head looks up at the sky
"Remember me?" The pistol wielding man asks angrily
The neighbor, whose wife Tim sought for help, is about to have vengeance and the last laugh
Tim repeats in his head, "No, no, no."
*Click*
Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
A drama king, to Elaine, it seems
"What the fuck is your problem, Tim?" She yells
Tim does not answer
He gets off the unnatural yellow mattress and goes to the bathroom
The rusty, grungy faucet pours out nightmares of brown liquid
Tim splashes it against his unshaven face
Police sirens are audible
Liquor bottles scattered around
Tim grabs one that's halfway empty and chugs it down
He's had enough dreams for tonight
The Everlasting Epiphany
An elevated state of mind
Sublime neurons of many
The heightened ability to perceive
An everlasting epiphany
To scale Mount Olympus
Opening a third eye
Lying wide awake in bed
Staring at the infinite sky
A half-constant realization
The meaning of life
Somewhat euphoric and fully aware
The human struggle and strife
Everlasting but breaking
Swallowed and digested by sleep
In your body and mind forever
It's the Enlightenment you keep
The Game
Athletic toning is as important as spiritual
A pre-game prayer is fitting
on the ball, the mind on the Heavens
Hoping to feel the post-game sting
The game for all glory and honor
The game where losers will play many more
The game for all eternal riches and Nirvana
Where the souls of the winners will soar
To Be
Be true to your soul and let it guide you
For there are thousands of years of two-faced people who conform to be a part of the survivors
Survival of the fittest
The fittest for battle
One mind to conquer life solely
Pure, pristine
Inner being washed clean
To be part of a militarily fortified kingdom
Is not the way to reach the kingdoms of spirituality
You are who you are and are not what your mind wants
You are what your soul wants
Listen to your family calling you
For they are your clique in lieu
In lieu of the false, changing people out to convert you
Handwriting
Handwriting is an art which everybody is equally talented in doing
Infinite styles and techniques which assemble into a meaning
A meaning usually lucid and flowing
A meaning consolidated from aesthetics and literacy
Inspired with the light bulb glowing
Perceiving any way it be
A language without letters:
Communication hindered
Spoken mind halted
Ignorance littered
Ideas assaulted
Ideas never sprawl
A primitive society
A structure of expression without a wall
This language would be no medium for me
Winds of Winter
The painful winds of winter blow bitterly cold
Marking doom for the mad shunned from their own mind or ambitions
Frost bitten
Lucid dreams are just that
Just dreams
Idea
An idea, put forth to creation
Immortal, brilliant in any aspect
Better Being
Sometimes chameleons are green
Sitting on an allied leaf
Camouflaged in their surroundings they cannot be seen
Capture and humiliate
Superior intelligence does not make a better being
Master Mind
Somber moods hereon age of twenty-two
The bang of something outside
Or was it inside?
He investigates to only find a rotting mind
Taking him for another adrenaline ride
Being the center of attention
In thought
Acting amicably in words, actions, and thought
Trying to impress in words, actions, and thought
He's just a slave
A slave with no master
Checking the digital footprints
No breadcrumbs left
Compulsory
The mind is the master
Unfit for relaxation
Sisyphus's descendant
Freezing
The cold of winter freezes the summer lake
Like the darkness of winter freezes our joy
Only the warmness of fellow man can thaw the frozen emotions
The Vanity Mirror Doesn't Make You Disappear
The laughing continues to expand in Haley's head
Getting louder and more insulting
And to silence it she has a vow to disappear or be dead
Ironic, body and mind melting
Abstinence from fueling herself daily
Expelling demons from her body artificially
The true demons remain inside, haunting Haley
With her own mind being her biggest bully
Body dysmorphic and self-conscious
Bleeding and tortured hourly and beat
Willfully starved for months and years, hence,
Her body surrenders from shock on the city streets
The Children's Mind
Children in a wasteland
A wasteland of chemical pollutants
A wasteland of emotional pollutants
Contorting the child's body and mind
The trauma of criminal parents and agonizing separation
The unrelated, hodgepodge family for children's rights judging the ones who care for them little, yet the most
The acorn never falls far from the tree
Exponential and perpetual assimilation
The impassive trees are more fertile
Addiction, the pain of false joy
Creeping up on the continent
Littered adults, hence littered youth
The Acorn that Fell Close to the Tree
Allusions to previous masters in the current master's mind
The tainted youth are victims of Stockholm syndrome
The thoughts razed and morals you will not find
Pillaging through child sanctuary with in hand a bottle of rum
Supportive only in the athletic mind
Knowledge forgotten or ignored
Even sold for a nickel and dime
As the lions of ignorance roared
Buyers Beware
Ignorance binds the hearts and minds of that which are of the generation of now and tomorrow
That which will live in sorrow
Apathy for the world and dreams of humans
For these are eclipsed by the rift of known men and women
The view into the lives of others
Golden accomplishments the media smothers
The Windows to the Soul
The only way to look into both of somebody's eyes is to look past them
Then, you stare into their soul and see the real person you're looking at
Eyes are a two way port
They may let you not seem so short
Eyes aid your emotions as do your ears
You can look at a picture and almost hear what's going on
Every Day
Life revolves around each and every individual day
Life is dependent
We feel the fluctuations of each day
Each day is independent
For some, every day is like a finger print
Each day leaving its own unique mark
For others, every day is everyday
Redundant and torturous
When looking back, the memories are like music to the ears
Like the unique crunching noise of a ubiquitously written on notebook as the pages turn
Nostalgia can at times be bitter-sweet
Yet makes us feel alive
The Profane
The sacred words of yesteryear are now profane
The profane words of the future are now sacred
The profane words of now will soon be indifferent
To Be a Victim
A body emits an aura
It can be many colors
Red with anger
Blue with sorrow
Yellow with hope
A victim emits a violet aura
As long as they think which they are labeled
A label for what they think
A vulnerable catch 22
Able to be defeated by an epiphany and self-reflection
Sever the worn ties to the present and past
Cast aside the self-pity and be
No one likes somebody who wallows in their own self- worthlessness
Of own circumstance, they are brought to naught
But when they have that epiphany, they will be something again
And then emit a golden aura
Crap-shoot
Living life is a crap-shoot, a cliché I know
And too high of a bet can leave you in the gutter
No wagers at all makes you no more richer of a person
Cheat, and someone will throw you out of the casino
Chaos in the Mind
Alone in a remote location
Tranquil but frightening
Feverish mind
Absence of life bleeds from the brain
A torture to many but a necessity to some
Escape from the solitary nothingness
The void
Or escape from claustrophobic dense life to the lake in the mountains
Different strokes
Boredom for both? No, chaos
Chaos in the mind from no one hearing your voice, body, or soul
Or chaos in and from the city which harmfully affects the mind
Deer
Deer
Majestic, innocent
Eat out of my docile hand
The deer untarnished by human contact
Humans meant to bring harm are shunned away
Dynamic humans
I once was harmful
Nature embraced me
Animals changed me
I cannot feel indiscriminate fear
I cannot see what I hear
I adapt
Which can potentially and ironically cause my fall
Yet I'm stronger
Snow in a Jar
Snow in a jar
Brought inside to the warm home
Symbolic for most life
Not human
To Awake
Hail Earth!
The human dream
To die is to awake
Trapped immortally in a pseudo-reality
He's the only one alive
He's the only one alive
What he sees is what he gets
What he thinks is what he gets
Brain waves monitored immorally
Eyes are like photo portals
Light traveling through his body indefinitely
To ask a question is to answer it himself
To meet someone is to have known them for years
For Earth is the human dream
But only one way to be certain
For him to awake
The Pillow
The pillow to hold one person's history
The pillow to hold the knowledge of ancestors
Fluff it often
It is the head's mother
Rejuvenate
Protect
Reflect
Heal
Hooded Man
The hooded man in black is a traitor to the human race
By his logic, he shall fall by his own hand
A rift in justice to come
The Journey Through Comprehension
The further comprehension expands
The more we fear our future
Now lusting for ignorance
A wasteful time in the expressive species
Life brought to naught by ambition
A gun to the head because of human desecration
History and actions crueler than previously known
The American 50s wore a leather S&M hood
We will never know the suffering of man
Until the new world comes around
Brought by arrogance
Brought by ourselves
The human comprehension evolution expands minute by minute
It may soon evolve to naught
With so many triumphs for which we've fought
Which will be nullified and erased from history
Immortal structures razed
An undefined history
Because of brilliance bound with arrogance and crazed
The evolution of human technology
Depends on our universal comprehension
The minds of the geniuses
To be put on either infinite or non-existent gratitude pension
A moth to a candle
And humanity to comprehension
Attracted to which can potentially destroy
Instinct, intrigue, or fun
Hungry for a white disaster
And eager for other's lament
Laughing eyes in the skull
A journey to which yourself have sent
Imperfect Looks
Beauty; sublime, subconscious
Erected by media, society, and the famous
Celebrities on TV, in newspapers
Media which provides such
Society influencing celebrities and the media
Society influenced by celebrities and the media
Circular dependencies
The young girl, forced, by the brainwashing of her parents, into the guild of battered and broken souls
Competing for trivial prizes and frivolous fame
Contorting, warping the young girl's conscience
Eight to eighteen and self-deemed imperfect
In her own mind becoming a reject
Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours will never make her into Barbie
She constantly stares and picks at her plastic mask
And as she looks into her own eyes in the mirror, she sees an untamed beast hungry for pride
But it will never get fed as she desecrates her own head
Clowns
Effortlessly, impassively, a life struck down
The phobia of clowns
In the path of spurious honor, it stands no more
Oh, how the fire below adores
Music
Merry, merry, merry-go-round
Taking your body for a round trip
While listening to that sound
Static Shock
A static shock
Walk proudly, or else your body, the forces will mock
When the Horror Comes
The vernal blooming of the new generation of hate
Converted by a quest, a goal for freedom
Ironic and for sale
And praying for when the horror will come
The watchers gaze at the mischief
Jaded soon, desensitized
A quagmire, lasting in terms of power
The minds of the millions no longer hypnotized
The Man Who Wanted to Meet His Son
A couple of friends and I were walking by the lake
The lake with no face
A pile of leaves, we came by, next to a rake
The man who lived there was elderly and reclusive
He was still mourning the loss of his son
His son was murdered and his soul was sold
The waves of the lake were trying to come over the top of the rocks which made up the shore
Spontaneously, the wind moaned like a whore
The pile of leaves no longer a pile
Each leaf went their own way, however, some tangled up with each other for awhile
A storm seemed to have improvised its way into the chilly autumn day
The rain's intensity gradually built up
We ran under an awning to be okay
We conspired about making a run for my cottage about a half mile down
And then, an ear blistering sound
Lightning had struck the old man's house and it burst into flames
He ran outside and looked at his home and sky in disbelief
Like he just wasn't seeing his house smoldering but maybe in some kind of relief
Then, without warning, another crack of thunder into our ears
The man was gone but we knew he was just there
And when we were about to run, the dark clouds went away making room for the Sun
Just like that is was over
posted by Rye Sky at
12:46 AM
