Expressly, with love: smile, my friend! He so quick to love the chase: may the eternal lunar trance encompass you, and shall you transcend the shadows. Shine thine light forthwith, and with God and your pen sow the seeds of mercy and love, through song.
Fuckin pretentious bullshit Poetry should be raw Verdant hills, my ass Eat a knife.
O' wooded ridge there yonder,
with studded faces sloping;
vast wonderment to ponder,
again, to scale them; hoping,
but not then want to wander.
Instead I focus, coping
emotions not yet roping
me into foolish ventures.
This Shoot Poetry thing
Is a thing I enjoy -
For to arrange strange jive
Just affirming you all are alive-
A perennial bulb or a favorite toy
It gets buried from time to time
And comes back up sometime near to Spring.
It’s a wonderful thing.
Where have you gone this time?
Vanished with the glowing sunset?
Or maybe under fall leaves
Have you climbed your way like caterpillars up the tree?
Have you fallen asleep with the oaks in winter?
Or have you gone out with the ladies on Friday?
I look for you sincerely, but cannot find
What place inside, in my mind, do you reside?
A clear bottle
holds red roses
by the bottle's neck.
Two cut stems,
than the other
by the bottle's neck.
Two cut stems,
in bottled air
above the dregs
of rosé wine
at the bottle's bottom.
It's something akin to drowning,
looking out from atop this verdant hilltop.
My pulse stops and my breath catches
in my chest, burning me hollow.
Which of us learned what is best?
Answer, lest the gist get lost and
we begin to speak in tongues foreign
and sinister to the others' sensibilities -
not that there's any sense to it when
The Light Shines Down!
And it seeks out the blackest shadows truly.
Here I stand looking out, in the shade.
Cuts from labor on my hard working hands.
Open bottles of wine
To ease a broken spirit
At work, the floor like battlefields, scarred comrades serving the food rations
The 7th heaven looks down on us with Pity,
News articles circulating cities, will we make the cut for glory?
Retrograde, repetitive thought process,
Simplistic script, Here's your receipt.
I know God is a better writer than this.
Where's my helmet? Shots are being fired again
Forget the helmet, they gave me latex gloves to cover up my beautifully anointed hands.
That's the only armor they'll give me;
At least I have a badge
"Do you have a club card?"
I only seek God, that is it.
John is a GOOD manager, I hope he knows that.
Burnt out from previous occupations, seeking resurrection.
"Would you like a water cup with that?"
Fixing what I can with obstructed time, blocking isn't quite right
The rhythm of my heartbeat is learning to synchronize still
"I don't have enough ones in my till"
Cosmological clock, fixated in a principled universe,
Different cultures bred different versions of me
I hope you understand how psychedelic traveling can be.
"Oh could you sign a copy of your receipt"
I have one thousand things on my mind but that's all that comes out.
Thank you if you ever cared about my soul,
Thank you if you ever stopped to listen.
Thank you for your hugs,
Thank you for visiting me in the hospital when I was sick,
Thank you for teaching me when I was a fool.
Thank you for your rebukes when I was in the wrong.
Thank you for your help.
Thank you for showing me God.
"Hello ! How can I help you today?"
How many times
Must I open my heart to find
It locked from the other side?
How many times must I open my heart
To be met by lies?
How many times must I cry
Before I realize I'm wasting My?
No, my heart stays open for days
And it will stay this way
I'm not a slave to likes or wage
Fuck the blind stay out of my way
I have people to save, I say
My words are for those who listen
Whether I like you or not we can have a sit-in
We are all children of love, none ungifted
Fuck you if you say that by my skin, creed, or sex I deserve no longer to get lifted
Get a fucking grip kid
Whether you're 20 or old and forgotten you're spoiled rotten
Your only salvation is to be honest
Stop lying to impress those most lost
It's your sacred life that be the cost
What a price to pay for mindless talk
But fear not
For if your intent be love you cannot be lost
Wake up, if you forgot
Stay strong, if you have not
I love both sides
The wanderers and the lost
I saw her standing there
I saw her enter
The establishment I was going to
And I knew from then
This girl I was into
I enter the door, no fanfare
A girl from before, she stands there
I debate making a funny remark
I don't, it's whatever, no snark
I enter the place $7 just to walk in
This place charges people to enter
Probably for a reason
If this poem is stupid to you I understand
It's narcissistic and
If I may continue
I don't see myself a narcissist
But I know what I'm into
The girl she stood there
Dancing the night earlier
But now in plain view
I wait for a water
Screw it, it's time to
I walk over we talk
"Best bar conversation
she's ever had"
She kisses me on the cheek
I pull her back, we kiss
Was it enough for me?
But I don't insist
Why didn't I insist?
Because I know what I want
and that's just it.
Crystal castles in the sky
Is where I'll go when I die
But only if I can bring another set of eyes
Because what's use in imaginative surprise if it's only I?
We'll fly high, up into a portal
The portal is the sky
But now we're immortal
We land in a courtyard
Cherry blossoms abound
The most surreal part is that there isn't a sound
And even though we're above the sky
There are still clouds
We walk up to a mighty door
Dark-stained wood with astral shine
Framed by pink brinks of grizzled stone
A knock on the door - is this our home?
I got seduced by a buddy's girl
It was my fault, I gave it steam
I enjoyed her sacral flirtatious beams
In the end it caused misery it seems
I'm sorry Jesse.
floating in time
full of freedom
I find the sense
The flower got me coughin'
like I an outta luck fireman
and I be lightin' fires from
right up outta my hands -
They say you gotta cough to be
gettin' off and I don't really know
but I get off just fine
from a little exercise
in a frame of this mind of mine.
Of course it doesn't hurt,
puffin' and takin' a toke
but the smoke is bad news
for the crews gettin' shit done
all up inside your lungs and it ain't fun.
Bitches with they nose up high talk down to a
man with a jay in his hand, sayin'
~ v a p o r i z e ~
and to my surprise it wasn't posh fancy shit,
especially the bit about
not fuckin' with your lung crews
and you can choose to customize
or maximize this thing and this stuff
and you save flower by the hour because this device
~g i v e s y o u t h e p o w e r~
to utilize your flower twice. I shit you not.
Love love O Beauty of the Greats
It gathers all with tumultuless grace
In I place all of my faith
Love is I, no matter which face
Love is freedom, love is space
Love is the ruler without no trace
A pastor I'm plenty
Of good vibes and merry
To sense when it's nary
A pea in its pod
I am the One formerly known as God
But see through the dogma
Feel the song enter you
The free-spirit song
Of adventure and gem-jewels
A long ways away is near too
When you realize the heart is you
Let Self express any way manifest
The great, the grand,
the small, the subtle.
It is all possible when we love each other
And united we become
The singular love.
The clouds rarely try to talk to us nowadays.
But when they do,
the message is usually lost -
they're simply too beautiful for man
to subdue his awe.
but your ringtone is a siren's song
so it ends up going to voicemail
and by the time you get to checking
it's already second-hand news.
Here I am sitting.
The Holy Spirit persists.
Here God is sitting.
All of your undefinable works of majestic godliness.
ex: "The Grizzly Grandma's Boy"