Do bullys ever tire?
How is it
Some are men, but still just boys?
Truly, their fathers failed them
And mothers weened each too long.
Vice versa?
In the motive of their choices
It oftentimes reflects the outcome;
Failure they do not understand,
Sometimes mistaken for a resolution
And not just the consequences of their actions.

If decency demanded
A pound of your flesh
Would you grab a blade
And hock it off?
Laid on the scales in perpetuity,
The insignificant life does not even register a blip on radar
Yet we still cherish and protect it.
If your life came at a cost,
How many would need die before you were indebted?

Should I be rendered deaf and blind again,
For it would be too late.
I came, I saw, I conquered;
Of the grapes of wrath,
I fermented victory.

Turn your nose up,
How trite it is to be pretentious
Doing nothing but showing
Your arrogance and likely
Ignorance, often
Resulting in loneliness.
Riding a high horse in despair

Bygone halcyon,
In the waters of rain, wash away.
Dams burst and levees break,
Succumbing to the weight
That stands tall today, contemporarily.
Currents swell with all old & well,
Newly made is the way
The path now flowering.
Personified in ideal & representation;
Tradition is upheld, yet progress is not stalled
For the options are plenty
Beyond elders simply floundering

If I speak honestly,
What resentment should I harbor
For how words are received;
So long as you, too
Speak the truth, earnestly?
My commitment to honesty dies
At the prospect of a lie.
Brought as like a cat,
Planting at your feet
Dead mice

Doves flown off a high-rise,
Expectantly eager
To show how much they know
And how great they are;
People today have such a need to prove themselves.
For whom, and to what?
Such fruitless times,
When new growth
Rots on the vine.

Music is a momentary salvation
Through the ailings we suffer.
A thin buffer,
Between the painful past and
Future troubles.

I like ****** the most
When they're quiet and know their worth.
Them being the only ones
To sell themselves out;
Set the rate yourself.
It'd be a shame
Living on your back
For but paltry wealth.
Small penance too,
For fleeting looks and fading health.
Not a profession with a pension,
Not a career with a penchant for happiness;
But if *******'s your passion
It's shorter lived in-person than on camera.

What peace is spoken of?
What normalcy?
More war? Further widening the gap
Between the rich & the poor?
Another mean-nothing speech,
Full of thoughts and prayers
Never to be carried to term?
Bills brought to the floor
Only to be stalled by their authors?
Flirting with failure
From manufactured crisis, and with
Pointless battles over culture.
Never have the oppressive been more direct
In their inability to lead
Views, values, beliefs;
Scavenging their remains
Akin to common vultures.

Concern of income as status
And popularity as a moral metric
Among peers just as vain.
What is it that fools compete for?
Simpler lives, duller & plain?
Over complicated, gaudy & cliché?
Playing with themselves like
Dogs with their ***** splayed.

Dreams that torment -
Between my chest
Is still her lance,
Driven squarely through my heart.
That circumstances were unfortunate,
I should wish for death absent my love.
Things ruined for myself

Nihilism, because I
Have no option but
To feel. What
Comes from
Broken relations & perspectives
But seeing clear? When
Glass cracks
Do you grab a mirror?
Or do you only forsake
Warm love turned cold?
Do you line with gold
And rebuild what breaks,
Or only grieve the remains?

I have never met a more complacent lot,
Than those of my compatriots;
Never have citizens been more obedient,
Than those of my immediates.
Forget spilled tea, today it's
Watered down coffee.
Biscuits cut with sawdust
Out from smaller & smaller molds,
Eating whatever fed us.
Cause we all know hunger

Believing any narrative pushed so long as it's prevailing;
The populace obsessed with popularity.

It's a headache & a headrush in the states,
Cool if you make the breaks
But that's like hitting the ******* lottery.
You gotta ask, what gives?
What does it take
To get a fair chance to stake a claim
In a country full of people who don't give a ****?
What sense does it even make
To try,
When no one in charge does?

For my own lot, & life -
Whether tis here or afar

Painful truths -
That those you love are broken,
Misused and abused,
Having let only pain
Shape who they are.
What they have grown to become
Is in turn the abuser
Having never freed themselves
Of all of the trauma.
As response is triggered,
Like wags of a tail from a dog.

Roll your eyes,
What emptiness resides
Within the vacant cavity behind?
Search inside,
Roll them toward yourself and never
Again, outward.
Those who cannot stomach themselves
Have no place to judge another;
When all is law and each thought verdict
Passed upon others, save for the trouble,
Of living up to your word proper.
When someone hates themselves just as much as they hate you;
When it's a life of lies, the truth is
Misery takes no sides but to dishonesty.
What defense can be mounted
In courts with no deliberation?
Where fact is mourned over the exalted opinion
And partisanship is par for course,
Where being unobjective and without bias is common treachery
And only shows how little you understand of the situation at hand
One likely having little recourse for discourse
Room only for more, escalatory rhetoric & action
As hatred only knows hatred;
Breeding further contempt and confusion  
For the ailings of the world

Vanity, take your measurements -
Tailor me a suit to cover all character.
Take all discretion, only
As to whether I'm dressed pleasant
And wear a guise that's hygienic.
It's all very copacetic,
A couple of sweet words
More akin to syrup than cane;
Unnatural and fake.

Old man stroked his chin,
Rubbed his forehead
And ran his hands through his hair.
He cleared his throat,
Tightening the slack in his line,
He was a regular killick in his time -
Youth was short, but was it fair.
These days it's just a simple trolling boat,
And he casts his rod overboard
But he's not been bringing up a lot.
Waitin' on that change in the wind.

Never was water more refreshing,
Than when I thought I would die of thirst.
Fire never felt so warm as
The moments before I was burned,
And never looked as beautiful
As before it was consumed.
Light split like memories,
When I look up into the night sky;
Things gone, things refracted,
All that's there that eclipses the eye.
I never knew what it was to be *****,
Acting like I was always clean.
Never knew how wrong I was
Thinking I was always right, ignorantly
Hurting those around me
As they've hurt me.
Stagnant puddle reflecting,
Wading against the stream;
Swimming but drowning

You can play like a big cat but
That's still just a kitty,
And I hear you roaring yet
They sound like meows to me.
Other felines especially like fish,
You purr at the taste of meat.
Blood dye whiskers,
Fresh enough when pulse still beats
And colors tread in cheeks;
She was just a thirsty drunk
And I, a glass of whiskey.

The banality of only craving to capture,
Never to create.
Aperture into life behind the lens
The misery of the photographer
Is always being on the out
And only being a device when let in.
To be an archiver of the moment,
Truly embodying it in a single shot,
Is the greatest achievement;
For cameras can hope

Stars - gas all exhausted -
Under their own weight, collapse:
A lighthouse, crumbling

The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?

Hold me,
In an embrace of thorns.
Hold me with a metallic feel,
Masticated love,
Votives made up of us
Rejected in full stead
To what appeal?
Wealth?
Life paid at the expense of ***,
******* yourself.

So much to say, which means so little;
So little to say, what that means much.
These ends we face, often,
Come on fast and taper out just as such.
What that remains: naught but thought.
Loose and multiplicitous as strands,
Hair of the artist's brush,
Colors as the richest palette -
Bold & bright, deep & dark

Why I would ever
Knowing it would only
Prove a disaster, & cause only pain.
No sparks to be rekindled,
Only fumes remain of suffocated flames;
As alcohol on water
When all fuel has been spent -
Lamenting the sea

When the rains fall away,
We move on with things and
Think nothing of the water which percolates
Seeping into the water table
No thought as it saturates
As cycles repeat
And liquid evaporates, condensates,
And it falls once more;
When rains end

Ah, how quickly do
Nights age & shatter - like old glass.
How short lived, the stars

Roses fall, silent;
In moonlight, like pouring rain.
On the leaves, dew hangs

If comparison were forced,
No flower would match your beauty.
Every rose would pale
Trying to meet the measure
Of that which I see,
Of how much you mean to me

There is no greater pleasure,
Than pressure,
When our two bodies meet

Singing your praise

In my ocean, you are the tides
The only thing to stir to life
Rivers of crimson within,
Areas grey & white
Were I the fish, you could eat
Forgo a day, for an eternity
You could cast from my soul,
Wade my streams

Better men have fallen before,
By word alone. Take these
Phrases in utter that matter not
To action, what man can judge
He who does, when he does nothing?
Mark the words of youth still young.
Tell me, when I have aged,
Have my thoughts & views really changed?
Have I any measurable way, what would the depth gauge read?
On the core of my character - my values & beliefs?
Field the breadth of life, would there be anything left in me deep?
Will there only be cold hard surface,
With nothing underneath?

I like hair enough to whip it,
To have the wind pull it
And muss about my face.
It's reminiscent of living,
Makes me feel grounded.
Enough hair on my chin
That I can stroke it when I think,
Weather it with whiskey
And plenty of smoke.
I'd like to say it's for joy,
But lately it's for the nerves.

It's humbling to look
Up at the stars, the
Gorgeous night sky.
Humbling to think,
Someone revoling one of those stars
Is staring back at me.

Things searched for
Are not connected to our internet,
Closed circuits.
The people who engage, are quiet.
And the circus is far, and close.
Hell, it's in the sky,
In submersible boats.
In dry heat,
In bitter cold.
It's above ground & below.
It's old pen & paper,
Passing notes.

What would protecting the minority have been, in 1776?
Those things which took us
Over a hundred years
To correct.
Because that is the basis of this Republic-
Not mob rule alone. The math is taxing.
And we must ask ourselves,
How far are we willing to go?
How committed are we to erroneous ventures,
To never admitting wrong?

Very quickly, have my
Compatriots rushed to take sides
In wars & conflicts that are not ours
That have no real bearing on
The American Way Of Life.
And what is that, these days?
Because I know, from
Pouring over history
That we are a very aggressive peoples
Steeped in the rigors of tradition.
But, similarly, believe in equality & peace
And self-actualization & freedom.
We flip between beliefs, diametrically,
With seemingly little reason
More based on superstition.
I know of the hopes they held at the beginning;
The founders of the nation
Who were, in aspects, mistaken;
On women's rights, on enslavement,
And many more. But,
That is the bugle call of progress;
To right what is wrong.
Those things that must be addressed,
For the betterment of all

Disburse of false truths,
Of complex ones that hinge on the day.
For it is ever so changing
And will be gone before being ready.
Live with the simple ones, like love
Those timeless classics
Which none among us
May ever truly corrupt.
And those things that branch from it
Like kindness, patience, compassion

If it sounds crazy,
Then it is.
If it rings of sanity;
Their words are of
Another's, only rearranged.
If it's hard to understand,
Then I guess it's not worth knowing.
Pretty strange then, so many
Prestigious people agree.
So, who's crazy -
You or I?

What's lazy?
People who take things at one glance of an eye

Remember the years, before the wars.
I know it's difficult,
We have been involved in conflicts
For so long. Recall the shortest of
Moments, peace, throughout history
And marvel that people ever
Compromise and set aside their differences.
What is it that we've lost -
Choosing not to war?
We all know it's cost,
But what about what's fought for?

I'm sorry, if I step on toes
But no one told me
Feet joined, on the path we must go.
Others around me are
Distant, and cold in their affections.
Reserving them only
For those who levy it on them.

Tell me, were you
Looking down from up above;
What would you think of us?

The ones you worship, in truth
Not in the words written by men.
They do not care for falsehoods of the physical
Meant to veil the true nature of your soul.
The mendacities of the mind.
These are as city streets, a
Beautiful bonsai, meant to be
Nurtured with fostered growth,
And cleansed of all *****, evil.
To trim away at dead branches
Rotted wood, that would otherwise
Hurt what has its roots
Through every fiber of your being.
The reverberations are felt
Throughout eternity; the
Things you feel, think, & do.
You know of enlightenment,
Great messiahs and prophets
Spoke of it until men killed them.
The words for you to free yourself,
They are there.
Further back than these books today
That only steal from what was written.

There in the wrong,
On the right side;
There is, in the dark,
A light that shines.
It's what you must show,
To those who feel blind
Because they've never
Walked out from night.

Gentlemen, I know that there are some
Still that are gentle and
Believe in real love
Unconditional.
Look around yourselves,
Talk amongst strangers
Who need your words the most.
Those who are in pain
Are familiar with the toil
That embroils each existence.
Can you see past yourself?
One blind to anything that isn't work?
That doesn't further a self-imposed agenda,
Whether it be wealth or power,
The measures only of men.
The things the ordinary strive for.
And each of you has such excellence,
Even if you have stashed it away
For fear of its ****** or abuse

Tomorrow, is already better.
Always know, where you live in the moment
With an eye still, foward-
There, is hope.
To not be stuck to the past but
Embrace change, welcoming progress;
Setting out onto new beginnings.

These are the frontiers, today.
Ideas, beautiful just ideals;
Respect for the planet you're on,
Fair honest treatment
Of every being


Of choosing love, and forgetting hate.
Opting for logic & sound reasoning

My friends, Christ ascended?
And of the Antichrist,
It is whoever remains.
Spiritually, whoever has
Not risen, but lay fallen
In disgrace
Of all around them
Those that honor nothing
But what is vain
Pride, Avarice, Rage
And the things that come from them
Hubris, Thievery, Violence
All manner of awfulness
For shame, for nothing more than this.
This will be the best of your eternity.
Your soul outlives,
What the body is
But it's destination is your decision

Do I speak in cryptic ways,
Vague, and detached from
The normal? Do words lash out
In resemblances of diatribes
That drown out all else meaning?
It is not on purpose,
I read too much
Or, I've read.
Pandora's box opened,
Atop Babel's tower,
Clawing my way back up
Not to shut the lid
But change direction, orientation

God, the Lord, help me.
I try to remain above frays
But always end up tattered.
The things I care of, that to me, matter;
How can I sit in silence?
What allowance of free thought is given to impartiality? Personal belief falls
Far outside it's realm, yet is
Entertained by all. I want
To stay unbiased, and uninfluenced.
Want, of little means, when contending with
Chance encounters in life. Because
Even if you wish to remain so
Others will drag you along with their cause
Unless you distance yourself
Which makes you a traitor

Sheepdogs,
Protectors of the herd.
Do not follow orders
Without thought. Is
The course of action righteous?
Will action derive verdict true to justice?
Or do you follow the words
Of those who could not care
For anything save for order?
The order of no change,
Of unceasing sameness
Where we all suffer.
Where progress is standing still
Standing stiff, overlooking us
On the hill.

You, Philosophers;
You great humans of natural science,
Of any science so long as it is done in just effort.
Reject what they offer you.
Those who know nothing of invention
They only wish to use you
To further their own ends.
Do you agree with them?
Ask yourself the hard questions
Because we cannot afford for you not to.
This heavy burden upon each of us, and
With your genius, unfortunately it weighs heaviest on all of you.
The curse of intelligence
Is not everyone uses it,
Though they have it.
Do not use it, only when you have to.
Use it before you need it,
And you will see from new perspectives.
The chains of wasted genius,
Are what keep us down.

Tread the mental waters to
Find the cave
Of hope and desire,
Of just things that are fair
And still grow in shade.
Hidden away, unless
You are brave
And face yourself.