Screaming Obscenity at Nothing

Misbehaving by assumption

Loosely told that “it’s not that simple!”

Barely breathing, Bleeding & Blistered.

A child less likely to listen ;

“take me home let me go why am I here

Why can’t I know”

you left like she was just a child to you

but your child screamed her need for you

seven times in 47 night

On the 48th day she let all her feeling escape

her screams faded and her gaze became less stable

,more anxious and filled with failure .

Now the child is caged and full grown,

47 years old ,

not understood but somehow understands.

That the hole in her throat leads to the void in her soul

and through this void she repeated her realization

of days spent ,without the person she came with;

Even nothing becomes something if

it’s all that is there.

Even nobody becomes somebody if

nobody ever cared.

(wakes up)

-Franken Stein

heavily to Heavenly influenced;

the realization of lazy consequence

as being adjacent to criminal coincidence.

(then comes the)

subjugated subjection to idealise lies that bind Martians –

miners losing their mine ,mind and their conscience/

criminals realizing their crimes

and meeting their monsters –

people praying for time

(praying for nonsense)

that was lost in abundance.

from wonder to wander .

(vise versa the thought)

“flash of thunder

take cover”.

from the “lazy” and “cautious”

to the “sane” and “obnoxious”.

 

 

Moon Glow Valley

Soul as a moon stone,
Glow-up these pastures.
Illuminate forgotten goals,
Reminder to unknow this load;
That weakens me-

four 7 days till I am six feet.
Losing myself to-
What could
Wouldn’t should be.

Soul like a moon stone .
Glow to me .
I seek you in valleys
Of deceit ,misery:
valley of fear in me .
Soul like the moons glow .

Just
Turn me to stone.

Sweet Cherry Tree

You embraced me before I would speak,

knew the broken me through the chivalry,

of shade :sweet-scented imagery.

Shade wasted on me-

laced with the shameless-

nameless strangers;

that sleep under the sweet-scented,

Blameless cherry tree.

since till eternity

As I swallow my words of praise
left breathless, by the cherry blossom,
gentleness of your face;

she with wrecking ball intention to this maze

that I’ve laid to keep a float.Lady of the Lake

 

I kclear my throat .

-unable to say –

The joy of each memory .

As your lips grace

mine .Kiss of life to me.

it’s she .since till eternity.

 

 

Divine Third I

I reason my silence to sleep

a slumber temperate to a heart beat;

eye awaken to the symphony of sadness

,that rhythmically suffocates me,

-as we lose ourselves to their standards

-we heal ourselves through their views;

caged in perceptions like there is no evil inside eye owe you.

Our I controlled by as it is seen by their third

as they watch the poor bleed from their stomachs,

hunger slaves,everyone for themselves and their own

until death ,until there is no more blood to be shed,

no mercy is all that’s felt,no shelter for those

in the solitude of suffering bred.

Our third clouded by their I .

They define what we see as divine;

the religious sacrilege of each follower to their creed

bless you my child ,in time you will see.

 

question: Define third eye.(5 marks)

things that damage me(short list)

Obsession with a worn out perception:recollecting all the things that damage me.

the procession beyond getting old

the digression of a soul outgrown.

those who take one glance at the cards they were dealt

without conspiration of attempted hesitation,they fold.

Those who became trapped in their own Underworld-

Decaying ,deteriorating people burning in the cold-

.till since than an eternity

Bleeding Me seeks to be ,

As blazed ashes in the wind,

non-existing in peace , , , ,

Wanderlust after the Gypsy

• 

Dreamt memories ,lent tendencies –

Losing me to a less than reality .

But still i dream ,recollecting the melodies –

Of songs less than sang to me

The Interlude

I recollect more than I can say:

 

I am enveloped day-to-day .By resent /unkept letters ,pushed-passed pain,

hearts left broken ,clouds that can”t precipitate,old in vain unable to reintegrate ,

minds encased by the self-proclaimed slaves,

fists raised in rage by demons untamed .

 

an Acrylic converse with the Earth-

Bending ,ascending, rather-be Pagan ageless-

Than another sheep living between:

being labeled and being nameless.

Letter to Tiony

to:a soul to grow

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;

-Khalil Gibran

drunk ,delicate ,dehumanizing :

denunciation of her seed:

In the middle of the fvcking street :

You were standing right next to me.

Your optical shining as mine did .

 

Soaked Inside Eyes:

At the time I could read your third like it was mine.

 

like I understand what is :

living between poverty

and living on the streets .

 

I swallow as I speak:

that I may tell of growth in grief

 

that pain is the locksmith of understanding

that money is only here then it goes .I know:

you wish she would drink less ,supply more

scream less and show her core

(no excuse)but we humans-

(to abuse ,brutally misuse)we flawed .

 

I pray for your spiritual channels ,and your ascension ,

and that this pain doesn’t render-

another youth as a regret-filled-glass-pipe bender

 

from: a soul less grown