Attn

Urgent news!

Attention!

Attention!

May I have your undivided attention!

There are riots breaking out in the streets of the mind,

Looting progresses at an uninterrupted speed.

Shattering and crashing cascading glass showers upon the pavement of the cemented soul.

The eidolons of thoughts continue,

Stealing,

Striking,

Stabbing,

 Away against all altruistic endeavors.

All attempts by the constraining superegos goons have been in vain.

Marshal law has been declared, the mans souls is now soulless.

Remain inside your individual heads.

Do not venture out into the street of shared consciousness.

I repeat:

Do not venture out into the street of shared consciousness.

For fear of angry atrocities,

Rape, murder, pillaging and paganism.

Stay, don’t stray out.

If you do, prepare to lay down your arms,

Your legs, give in to disembodied consciousness,

 if you enter here.

The dark corner of cannibalistic consciousness.

Mice, Lark

If I was a cat,
Would I be lithe and fit,
Or overwhelmingly fat?

Would I live in an alley,
Instead if a furnished apartment,
Or would I wander Napa valley?

Could I see in the dark,
Catching mice and flies,
Or maybe a flying lark?

If I was a cat,
Id meow all day.
Great would be that.

Love = dedication. Dedication = loyalty. Loyalty = love.

Swear, to the oaks in the forest, that we walked in our courting.
Swear, to the tides of the sea, that lapped on our bare feet.
Swear, to the sky, that enveloped us in our flight.
Swear, to the earth, that bore us from its breast.

Swear, to the heart, that beats inside our chest.
Swear, to the eyes, that saw your best.
Swear, to the lips, that pressed upon your head.
Swear, to the hands, that held you tight.

Tight, yet still light, enough for you to get away,
Tearing and trying to instill love away,
Here we are, and there we’ll be,
Till that we sweared on ceases to be.

Nice people

Nice people

Nice people,
Have family style homes, a ranch, a loft, a mediocre mansion,
Nice people,
Live in the suburbs, with white picket fences, and lush green yards,
Nice people,
Play golf, not cause they want to but because they have to,

For work,

Nice people,
Have 2.5 kids, the mothers stay home and fathers wear neckties to work,
Nice people,
Give money to charities, instead of their time,
Nice people,
Don’t curse, cause they don’t fuckin need to,
Nice people,
Take family vacations down to the shore,
Nice people,
Celebrate holi-days with their families,

New years- DAY, Easter Sun-DAY, thanksgiving- DAY, Independence -DAY, Halloween -NIGHT, Fathers -DAY, Mothers- DAY, flag -DAY, Christmas- DAY,

And if their Canadian,

Boxing- DAY,

Nice people,
Have the answers, to questions no ones asked,
Nice people,
Don’t kill other people; they just pay other people to kill other people,
Nice people,
Aren’t racists, but there REALLY ,REALLY glad their neighbors look like them,
Nice people,
Are accepting, as long as they don’t have to directly accept it,
Nice people,
Smile, even when they take a jab at you,
Nice people,
Don’t fight, mostly cause they don’t need to, they have the police to protect them,
Nice people,
Shop, Cause shopping is an American past time.

Nice people,
Are just that, freaking nice,
Their just so peachy freakin keen,
But even peaches are rotten on the inside.

So just for reference,
I’m not a nice person.

Hun

Im beggin you,

Take a hold of my hand,

This place scares me,

I don’t know where I am.

Im beggin you,

Look me in my eyes,

Enjoy the view,

See past my lies.

Im beggin you,

Press your lips against my lips,

Flesh upon flesh,

Drink me down in sips.

Listen,

To the sound of my voice,

Gently spoken against your ear.

Do you even hear?

The desires I have begged you for,

Only moments, only seconds,

 before.

“Where are you?”

In the dire deepest depth,

The cell of this forest is closed upon this sight,

A sight,

A sound,

A drowning of stimuli,

Where is the night?

Where has it gone?

You have left in its embrace.

The sound of the morning rise,

Reminds me of your loves demise,

For days ago I held your heart in my hands,

Now the grasp is open, revealing nothing but the sands,

Of the passage of time,

 The erosion of our loving monument,

Breaking, cracking,

 Into shoddy compliments,

Hollow, so echoes the call,

“Where are you?”

Where are you this fall?

Fox

Weep,

Weep and wipe the raindrops tears from your eyes,

Salt, the sea has come from inside,

The earthly heart, the sinew and bone,

Inside it’s hallow is our home,

The den, dug down, keeps us cool,

From the blazing sons of the fleshy ghouls,

Outside, with their fire in bottles,

The cure’s is theirs and their fathers.

War, fighting, disease and strife,

Here, in the den we have none in our life,

The den keeps us cool and safe, free from strife ,

So we watch the end, of the flesh of men.

Staying safe in our deep den,

weeping.