Crystal Love

I believe in a heaven
existing between clear thighs
or in golden brown eyes
disguised as worldly things
to be despised 
when they are the desires 
some will expire to possess.
Am I wrong? 
Others know a hell
while hiding in silence
made from darkness and emptiness
after a crispness
that that experience each morning since…
Doing ‘this’ for reasons
that others won’t allow to be present
due to their virtuous ignorance.
Are they wrong? 
There is no sanctum. 
No righteousness
but the one
we created after being magnets
for millions of atoms
to collide in a way
that we pretend makes sense.
We balance on delicate string
knowing anything
could break them.
We are going 
to the heaven and hell
we were sentenced to.
There is chance for innocence. 
Not when secular ‘gods’ rule

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A Stranger’s Love (A Shadow’s Lucid Dreams)

Watching my wrists hold an abyss
as I dress in darkness
with atoms rearranged from our chemistry
to become a new me.
Thoughts from drinking.
Yet I make do.
The one thing
always dancing in my cerebellum…
is you. 
So…
I’m not too overcome
by rum to remember good times
and then some…
Tie tied tight, embracing the night
like I might
do something right
if no one’s watching. 
Dressed to compress my insides,
like a shadow 
I’m close. 
Like a shadow
with enough light,
I’m more of a boast. 
I only exist with others.
And we’ve been dreaming awake. 
Paralyzed,
cause my eyes have seen
what we could mean
in refusing to be roused.
Though in the back drop
of us dreaming
I fell asleep again.
I want to believe 
that somehow we can be.
I grab my suit
to dress for the judging society
in which we’re living.
Then I go
to live impossible dreams. 

Settling

How will I sleep
if I keep
images of you
in my head?
I took a walk
to talk to myself
hoping you’d slip my mind
long enough to find peace.
Yet something triggers memories
till endlessly I’m thinking.
Velvet skies.
So impossible.
Vermillion plateaus.
Unreachable.
Verdant mountains.
Unconquerable.
My ears burn
while scarlet streams roar
as I remember whore
that can’t compare anymore
to your liberty.
You are
the hill of Aripo.
Refusing to be climbed. 
The untameable wild.
The unteachable golden child. 
Why must you be conquered? 
So I shall find,
by leaving behind
clumsy desires creeping through my mind,
beauties I can grasp.

Till Next year

Dare all out there. For the rest of the year I will not be putting out any poems or raps. I’m currently working on a short story that will be compiled from poems on here and other ones I have written. 

I am also in the process of trying to get publish. WISH ME LUCK!!!!

I’ll be posing entirely regularly every week beginning January 7th, 2014. I am truly sorry for not being so regular as I want to. But I am very happy for the support that has been given up until now. So thank you to everyone that reads my work. I hope to have great work soon.

Old World Order

The winds are bringing change
carrying dust of decaying structures.
Dust that could blind
those entranced in the past.
Lessons learned
face turned
to the verdant plain
where new plans will be lain.
Potential to fill a spiritual abyss
we can be an oasis
within a desert of complacency
that, as rain drops,
we are changing
to a sea of morality. 
Education, work, faith
endowed with a sense of mission
from a vision. 
We make revisions 
to the world
with each decision
leading to serve. 

Before the Walk Out

Getting dressed slowly
she stretches like a lioness
with no reservations.
My body on vacation
I admire the view
that recently
was stormy weather. 
She slips into jeans
then crawls between me and sheets
pawing like a kitten
with the smile of a raccoon
as she looked up
from the dark of covers. 
I could tell
from the way she lied
when talking to
since she nuzzled against my breast
demanding a caress that fabric
ruined. 
“Let’s go out,” 
she purred. 
My eyes shifted 
to the raining outside.
She was 
the sad ghost of a woman
wanting to swim
in the same lake she drowned.

Dichotomies of Fantasies (Conflicts of Religion)

I kept a soft spoken
joking
counter to the place
while 2nd hand drugs and drinks
are shoved into my face.
A carbon jail
in each case,
no fault in grey matters.
But who we were
and who we are
never equal after.
Relationships are sinking ships
like an albatross
is the cross
that is choking me.
That’s not my fault.
Despite what
faith justifies
“life” ain’t reality
“Truth” is testimony
with innocence and accidents
as lies we’re always seeing.
Youths on the right track
will still drown in love
if they only know being.
But imma let streetcars pass
as my desire for that below Georgia
puts me on blast
about relationships
with no chance to last
cause I judge people
with values that I never even had.
Sometimes we remember things
thinking we hear angels sing
with sounds just like
how demons scream…
We believe
we are who we say we are
which still places us
closer to the evil
that we say we aren’t.