Broken & Bleeding.

Broken and bleeding,

I cannot say I’m undeafeated,

But I can say I’ve fought hard,

Every time that I’ve fought,

It’s these thoughts that will shatter,

Your conscience of deep matter,

I insist on going further,

Until these matters are fact.

 

Why do we react this way?

Why are so many teachers asking?

What is the meaning of selfless love?

How do you help those who are not asking?

Teach me how to gain traction,

Tell the children the truth of many factions,

Speak to the souls of the world to unite,

Awake our feeling into harmonious action.

 

Broken and bleeding,

I cannot say I’m undefeated,

But I can say I thought hard,

Every time that I thought,

Of what it is that really matters,

Of what with our time here we can gather,

Of what the education,

Of future generations could yield,

If we cared more for cohesive factors,

If we shared love in holistic patterns,

In a society that touched on our troubles and strengths,

And built us up from this war mongering rabble.

I reject the failing of a tower of Babyl,

I stand for a people that know their power,

I stand for a call that now is the hour,

State your name,

Children of earth,

Speak with bravery,

Don’t give in to these cowards!

“It’s our future” we say,

“And in it we want creatures and trees and flowers!”

We want kindness and empathy,

Understanding brings knowledge that showers,

And seeps into this planet,

Our home,

Renewal is what these waters empower!

I stand for peace,

Though I’ll fight for these:

Hope and love,

I’ll not let my planet be devoured.

The Days I Praise.

These are the days that I praise

When I feel the fortitude,

The strength to face the charades,

Feel the momentum,

To master the maze,

I’m still seeking that page,

That stage, that way,

That I can reach you,

To be a light through the haze.

Let me be ablaze and embrace,

The strength to not shy away,

Let me paint this world a self portrait,

Let it startle and amaze,

Let us seek into that which,

We now create,

The views and perspective,

Of the kids that we raise,

What is it we’re passing down?

What do our words & actions portray?

I’m seeking the veins,

Let this not be a phase,

The appraisal of our lives seems,

A crying shame,

I wish to be alive each and every,

Three hundred and sixty five days,

And so I praise the days,

That help me seek a better way.

Searching through the Ether.

Of course you’ll feel alone,

You’re searching through the ether,

Wondrous is the exploration,

But loneliness does know the seeker,

The beakers growing, glowing child,

Soon the beacon will need a leader,

Look now, see, your skepticism,

But in your purpose be a believer!

Your strength is how you’ve stayed alive,

And of knowledge you’re still so eager,

But action is what gains traction,

And changes factions to better creatures!

So either you, are what you are,

And you live how you be,

Or you continue to grow,

And set your people free.

This is your chance now.

Act, or wait and see!

But it’s the interaction,

Of good transactions,

That frees the mind,

With wisdoms key.

No Truth Til Truth.

Fiery tendrils take my heart,

Veins like limbs that take the flame,

No truce til truth, I shall not tire,

Let my lips inspire in you the same,

Tell me your name, I call it and,
Instill in you a change,
That drives the fear from your minds forefront,
And harnesses your pain,
No chains, no more,
No slaves, no poor,
No trickle down,
I’d see it pour,
Be not afraid of the shades they’ve made,
You are alive, a warrior at war.

Battlements ready, your brain the bastion,
Your gut the coal that burns,
In your heart you feel the heat grow heavy,
It’s time now to seize your turn.

Warrior, Your Time is Come.

Dysphoria to euphoria,

Tell every warrior,

Their time has come.
Done with the humbling,

The drum now is rumbling,

Five fingered fists are raised to the sun.
It’s true, I’m telling you,

Smeared by shades of gray and blued,

By the marks that came from yellowed teeth,
A wolf a wolf, a beast a beast,

And hate is what is said in their speeches,

Preachers like lying politicians,

Politicians like warmongering preachers,

And Teachers, Our teachers,

Who forgot that they are leaders.
This is what our people are facing,

What a fearful many have fell to embracing.
Sycophants and small minds,

How do you unwind the coils of miseducation?
It’s so sad to see it, I swear,

It breaks my humanitarian heart,

But my mind knows the lengths,

Every inch and mile, 

Each distance that plays it’s part,
Run, run, walk child, heed your sun,

Sieze your nature within!

The inception of steel made will,

The perception that reaches the fringe,
Hinge now, heed the door,

Turn the knob,

Beyond lies the aim of our ends,
Warrior ready, Wo-Ho hold steady,

Courage I call on as we begin.

The Journey of this Earth.


What would you do if given the power of expression, the power to rule over all that one could create? This is the time of our coming, the landslide that you first hear in the rumbling, jungly nethers of your heart. Swollen with the emotion of a thousand synapses racing, receiving the transmission of a thousand antennas. There was no altering this mood, no stop to the substantial flow of gravity. All would come or all would fold into the frame of another, thing. Think now, what will it cost you? What will it take you to climb to the top?


Perceive your situation, perspiring to be placed in a ring above your stature. Stature. Hah. What is this thing that men make their minds from? What is this honeycomb that wraps them like a cobweb? Conquer or be conquered. Decide for yourself or be the victim of your own ineptitude. If you chase no freedom of thought, no freedom will your thoughts ever know. Palpable. Insatiable. It cannot be filled with sand or stone. No possession fulfills the mind whose soul is tickling. Trickling. Tantamount. Test your capacity. Have the audacity to break the mold. Boldness generated from your inner wisdom, the vision of your sanctum soul. No other man. No other woman. No position, division, revision, system or symptom, can state your inner vision. It is the one that sparks from within, is written in the curious mind, travels beyond the body, lives in your language, lives in your meaning, lives by your expression, your way. No other paves this for you. No other shows you the one path. There is no one path.


The only universal is that you must seek. Weakly made the babe comes from the womb. Wolves are here, ready to consume, how far now have you made it? What was it that you saw then, do you still know, are you still looking for the reasons we grow? So many systems spilling their synchronization, “here, come here, be made in our mold”. What is this? The marketed, targeted, “be like me” starter kit? Who is “me”, when I am you, you are they, tell me really, what is true? There is this inkling, this slow lonely decibel that reaches forth, carrying it’s need for relativity. An itch like wondrous joy, somber regret, when you fret and neglect this need. Higher inside you feel when it’s chased, when the place that you seek, comes face to face. Fearful. I know. So be it, amen. Slow dance with your time here and regret nothing since. The smooth calm, the breeze that blows, whispering it’s secrets from afar. Think now where this air has been, the places you have now inhaled. Feel the magic of 25,000 miles, the circular yearning, the journey of this Earth.


Hear the heart ache, find art before your heart breaks, find your meter, the tick, tick, the metronome of your making. If your hands are never shaking, then your missing the point. A proposition, to go with your half glass of submission, the one they poured for you at birth… Set it down son, daughter of the deepness, set it aside, this life is more than a ride. This isn’t just about surviving and you’ll need more than to be thriving, look me in the eyes, tell me, tell me you’re alive.


Life is Lucifer, knowledge, good and evil, a thousand doors, a thousand keyholes, crooked and regal, eagles and seagulls, vultures and velvet doves. Choice upon choices, “Listen here!”, “No here!”, voices and voices, everyone has your way you, you wayward child, now compose yourself to all edicts. Now let me ask you, is it the ‘All’, are they offering ‘Ever’? Are they the only ones selling? Selling?! Tell me money isn’t involved! The ways of the world are wayward, wanton, welling up, and it’s easy to join. You’ll soon see, I’ve long noticed, the frays at the edges, the seams, where there’s still so much to be sown. Blow hards and upstarts, the mania of fame, fakers, the ignorant intellects, the bias breathers, the zoloft inducing zealots, it’s best to be Helen Keller to the sop that they seep. 


Knock, knock, is your skull a prison? Does your mind still seek instinctive wisdom, has your situation arisen, the one where you act who you are? It crosses over more than once, your choice only lasts with so much closure, it’s the exposure to whats beyond, that your desire wishes to reap. Heap another burden, hear me, hear me, I know you’re hurting, but the difference is what you’ll feel, the feeling felt says, “you’re worthy”.


Worry, I know you worry, for your mind is judge and jury, with each faction currying it’s flavor on you. What is it then? How does one spend, every second, spilling minute, levying hour, lose my mind in a day? It’s okay. Thats what you say, “it’s okay”. It takes time to find the reason, the why of each thing you want to believe in, it takes time and intelligence to learn, your way, to behave. It’s okay.

The Dark Wrap.

I’m shaking, shaking,

The dark wrap has me,

The branches grasp my name,

I’ve always, been a dreamer,

But who knows the difference between vine and chain?

Darkness, darkness, awake my spirit,

Fight or flight, Shine the light of your spark,

Forgotten in nuance the versatility filling me,

The utter infinity in every quark.

Racing, racing, still the roots do chase me,

Still do drag me down into their depth,

Steps I’ve taken, have I still not awaken?!

What Act of Being will fulfill my test?

I-am-Diver.

Erratic ecstatic schematic,

Like a lightning bolt,

The scribe who wrote,

Scripture, to cut through all the static,

Databank, databank,

Saved message is sancrosanct,

Hold my hand, hold my hand

So you’re not mesmerized by the madness,

Glad this, is reaching you,

Receive transmission for teaching you,

Communion of one to another,

A tribe of one we are reaching to.

It was emphatic,

That only together can we have it,

Peace between man,

Land and happiness,

Put it into perspective,

Holistic pursuit to grasp at this,

You are as I,

If I came from the land that your speakers do,

The stew that your preachers brew,

We each are a product of the concoction,

The magi’s choose.
This recluse ruse you not,

I jot the plot points deciphered,

I search the cypher for the currents,

The geysers,

The higher I get,

The more the constriction grows tighter,

What glass do you look through,

What lens, what visor?

I advise you give your undivided to seek the meaning of your desires!

To get to the chew of the matter,

First bite with the incisors,

I will explore every pantheon,

To its depth, i-am-diver,

I seek the pearls, the kernels,

That which makes me the wiser,

Bridges the barriers,

And destroys the dividers,

Feel each muscle of fiber,

I’ll be your transcriber,

The fire within you,

The lines of electrictry wire,

Speak for what you desire,

Make a plan with your hands,

Then make an action, be fire.

Beauty of Union.

All I seek is holy communion,

The heart of art is it’s beauty of union,

Karl Marx marked the start of our illusion,

A life lived in crisis is no state to infuse with.
So I search for the awareness of choosing,

A place in this life, a way to keep moving,

From the fear that I face and the face of confusion,

To a smile like a child, an accomplishment worth proving.
Something akin to bridging divides,

-with meaning,

Empathetically paint,

Each passion of each faction,

-believing,

Calmly show similarity tying together,

-collective,

A step closer to the union of our souls

-directive,

 

And in this,

We are boundless in our projection,

But just as we know space and not our seas,

To see inside ourselves,

Is the ocean of spiritual perception.
Woah. Emotions run deep,

Mariana trench, to the tenth, believe,

For me,

Fast food and vitamin water, no bother,

For thee,

Starvation, dehydration, feces stench,

-you see?
The challenges of our placement,

The corner doubts of our situation,

Our anxieties, our desperation,

The struggles of each our nations.
Small steps,

We all must face,

Each ten provides the zen,

To embark upon the next step stones chi,

The fee is good effort,

Vis a vis’,

Your heart and mind balance,

With your hands you’ll free,

 

Experience and well knowledge,

Purpose and depth of breadth,

Confidence to make your mark,

A life of meaning-

Before the next step.

The Winds that Awake Purpose.

​It was a long night, longer than most. The night made more so by the slow slipping of seconds that turned into minutes for miles, times meandering silence stretching through the cortex of the minds perception of it. He rolled his thumb across the tips of each his fingers like a ritual of one deciding his course.

 You see, this night was a night made darker by its dreariness, by its colluding cloud of bland reason, this night, this night was one of solitary thoughts wandering through the purpose of many things. The what of action and the why of all that could be. He ran his hand to his brow as he closed his eyes in the furrow of deep knots behind his eyelids, the pain of the mind is one that pushes upon ones sight.

 He sighed. “What does it even matter”. The first words spoken across the silence that seemingly had strangled his present discourse. “What if I don’t ever make it?” He said it with doubt that turned to disdain that he had even given these last words breath. ‘Truly though, what can one know of the variables that bend and grow?’ Ever was there the true rhyme of reason in his head. 

He rolled his shoulders, bending his neck slowly to each in a circular fashion, stretching the tension that was collecting there, like webs of vile thoughts spun by his foul concoction of dismay. Spiders spinning sorcery through his synapses. He breathed in. A deep long breath that he held for some of those slippery seconds, then let spill from him. 

He did this over the course of a minute that slowly became the imperceptible slow, the mile that makes no gesture as to how far along it is. He felt it as the last long breath left him, the weariness of worry, the dreariness of doubt, they too went with the air from his lungs. Good riddance. 

He set himself upright, rolling his neck again in a circular fashion, this time setting his posture also. He set his chin slightly higher. He pulled back his shoulders just a pinch. He inhaled until his chest visibly rose up, not just air, but he breathed in rejevunating winds, the winds that would awake his purpose.