Hearing Your Walls Fill Up with Water Is a Curious Thing

A pipe burst in my wall last night.
I laid in bed and listened as my walls filled up with water.

It was phenominal.  Like I had my very own aquarium surrounding me, and the sound of freely flowing water eventually lulled me to sleep.

I could hear it tumbling gently up from the wall onto my ceiling and listened as it dripped down the side wall, slowly picking up speed until it was a soft gentle water fall on either side of my bed. I was entirely encased by walls of water at one point.


Still, not a single drip.

Oh Auto Correct: How Political You Make Me Sound

I refuse to participate in the Turkey massacre

I'll help you train them.
The mortal souls that are left when our way of life is forever gone.

No one to guide them,
How will they survive this changing of the tides if they lack faith in themselves.

How helpless the rest will feel,
And give up becuse they think the fires over.
How beautiful.
Will they still love you despite your fading soul?
Be sure they will.
I'm sure they will.
I'll make sure they will.

wake up

Spider webs are in my closet,
and my heart's suspended by their strings.

Oh my God,
I'm such a mess.

Just breath slow.

I see the body of a woman encased in glass.
She visits me in my dreams.

Now she's breathing down my neck.

And my shadow's gone rogue,
cause she's leading me on,
and my other half knows better.

I'm left counting stop signs for miles.
And every step reminds me how,
It's time to spread my wings and relearn how to fly.

Its time.
I've been hibernating too long.

God have mercy on my soul,
It isn't cured.

Jada

walk with your hands on your feet
and its keeping you down
open your eyes
it's okay to dream like a child

dare to be brave
kiss the world with your smile
sift through your core
you'll find diamonds inside

laugh as the sands slid backwards in rhymes
slide through the glass
building mountains in time
Jada it's time

she's got blood on her hands
and her head in the sky
she's reaching for chance
as she pierces her mind

begging for truth,
she hears the Earth growing old
it's humming a beat
says to do as she's told

restless
her bones
they stir in her sleep
yet the Reaper denies her the peace of the deep

tattered
the strings of her heart skip a beat
skip a beat
dissolving her chains
and she sets herself free

as our stories unfold
we find the world makes us blind
cards in our hands
hide the fear in our eyes

paying our tolls
defending our lives
seeing our lights
as we learn we can fly

marching on

peace be made in the hearts of men
in the name of God
we've committed sins

may the words on this page
see that blood shed will end
as the wars we must fight
are the ones we feel within

all this talk of corruption
all this news of despair
another mother's weeping
as she says another prayer

her son
he is fighting
in a war that isn't theirs
now his eyes
they lie open
in a never ending stare

I'll be sending shooting stars

what right do we have
to tell a man that he can't feel
love for another man
a love we long to feel

we say it's wrong
it ain't right
because we don't understand
yet, the anger, rage and pain we cause
are very real to him

I'll be sending shooting stars

why must we be divided
in a world that we must share
ashamed of the way she looks
she carves her flesh when no ones there

her peers
they scorn her with their words
now
it's more than she can bare
with a knife
she takes her life
because she thought that no one cared

I'll be sending shooting stars

the time for revolution
is dancing in our futures
and the wisdom of our youth
is calling out for retribution

so with these words I will fight
for all the voices that have been stolen
and when their wishes have been spoken
may these stars heal all the hurting hearts
this world has broken

I'll be sending shooting stars

Dear Reader: Meet Bob

I have this friend.  His name is Bob. Literally.
He lives downstairs cattycorner to me.

I dont know how old he is,
At least in his 60s.
But he's interesting.

What I know about him is:

-he just moved into the complex a couple months ago,

-he lost his cell phone
(which he asked me to help find:  My first encounter with Bob)
-so, now he has an iPhone
--that neither of us know how to work.

-he sleeps on a military cot,

-his estranged wife/ex-wife, Wanda, made him get his own place,

--because he's an alcoholic,

--and Wanda "can't handle his drinking anymore"

-and he "really loves gin",
--but he's "getting pretty good at sticking only to beer"

-he loves animals,

-he loved his dog,
--which has since been adopted :(

-sometimes he gets dizzy when he stands up too fast,

-he broke his glasses somehow so he taped them together until he "gets the new ones in the mail."

-he wants to volunteer and went through some sort of training for the humane society,
(He's very proud of this)

-he can't drive for some reason

-his father was a tailor

-he was once a tailer for his father and worked in the clothing industry most of his life,

-he "plays the monopoly CD" on the compiter
--he has internet but "don't know what to do with it"

-he's "not in good health" (I did not inquire as to why)

and,

-he's one of the most interesting people I have ever met.

The atmosphere around Bob is thick and heavy somehow,

You get this overwhelming sense of heavy reality weighing down on his frail little frame.

Yet, he has such a tremendously good heart.

There's so much potential in Bob.
and I feel it every time I say hi to him.

I'm dazzled by it.

Or maybe I'm crazy,
and,

if I am,
so be it.

His biggest challenge has been finding something to do with his time.

He gets bored,
and he's lonely,
so he drinks and everything else spirals.

He's expressed multiple times how "he wishes he could do something,"
a job,
or volunteer.

But he can't get there because he can't drive.
and so he has just his apartment and we're back to bordom and monopoly and a six pack.

I get it Bob.

Everyone needs something more.

Some people chose work
some school,
some family,
some friends,
some lovers.

We all secretly want more.

and when life seems to be working against us we need "more" even more so,

and even more,
when we're told we're facing the last few years of our lives.

I know when time catches up with me,
the last thing I want to slap me in the face,
is the realization that,
I still have so much to offer the world,
but there's no way to do so.

I refuse to accept that
and I refuse to let Bob accept that.

I decided I'm adopting him.

He loves animals.

I'm going to find a way for Bob to get to his animals.

And maybe that one day
will be one less day without his beers.

Because he wasn't bored,
and he wasn't "in a state of flux."
Because he had a purpose greater than his own.
Because he helped another living being today.

I wish there were more programs that assisted people with volunteering.

More specifically those with limited transportation.

I pay enough in taxes.

How do I get a few of those dollar bills to go to Bob and others willing to make positive contributions to our communities and their own lives?

Dear reader,
Meet Bob

71 Horton

It's been over a year now,
and I finally take break,
and realize I've some how,
made it to the closing,
of a year gone by.

Why haven't I,
Realized the fog has cleared, now.

How long
How long,
have I been dreamin?

Misty moments lost in fear,
How long have I been down?

I feel like the Earth's been spinning round and round this empty shell.
An imposter in my mirror.

I'm finally here now!

How long
How long,
Tell me guarding angel,
How long have I been down?

Just a second,
Just a moment,
How long have I been gone?

Boxing

I'm a simple man.
But there's so simple plan,
on how this life should be.

Should it conquer me,
The mosnter wont let me see
How my life should have been.

I'm waiting for answers that won't be found.
Simple man's translation
Only perpetual confusion.

I hope its amusing,
Because you've never been more illusive.

And as I'm laying down
Bed posts creak,
missing your weight upon its knees

Still moving on,
And going strong.

Despite how you've been so confusing.

Is there a spark,
Waiting to ignight.
resist the urge,
Resist the fight.

I swear I won't let you win tonight.

Ink

I can't be this breaking,
paper sculpture anymore.

Pages wilting on the edge
and nothing more.

Yet, this passage claims
that everything
will soon be right.

So,
I'm kneeling down,
to pray to gods
oh so quietly
and polite.

Left begging silently,
as drugs steal serotonin
from our minds.

Prophocies becoming scapegoats
and proof the gods are on our side.

Though maybe only for today,
love temps me with forever.

And
My inards scream
with ticks of clocks,
fists knocking on my mind.

Still, I hope this midnight ballad,
finds your heart still melting,
not-yet-dried-up deep inside.

Completely breaking
out of time
with stories perpetually half written
and tales lost in sensless rhymes.

I'm sending out this letter on
the wings of owls tonight,
with fantacies that they're making passage
through your ever wandering mind.

I've spun out words

flying from

a complicated mind.


Prepare yourself

for tales and stories

both reckless and divine

This is Water

The drains of clouds in heaven,
Somehow bring this back to life,
I'll try to make this my last
Tip tap, tap, tap, tap,
This is my last goodbye.

Borrowed words and paragraphs,
made of other people's pain.
Ive gone and loved another
Such placebic love drives one, one insane.

But I believe that in a time,
not so distane of this life,
When I'm no longer human,
My beauty will pass down,
All the me in you,
Dies in these promises she'd held.

We've been falling all this time.
And god I feel so lost beside,
Mirrors in the blackness,
No reflection,
No reaction with no light.

We wake,
And its still midnight.
Its still quiet.

Give me a smile in the dark,
because I'm just as scared of you.

Still all I feel is your grasp,
We've been falling all this time,
I miss our paradise.

Words of Borrowed Vices

I'm left borrowing these words,
From all my favorite stencils
made of praise and prose.

No light around us,
As rain tiptaps on my open window.
Can we face the night together.

If you go,
Then so will I.

Alliteration Vomit

All ships and shapes and shiftings.
Dreams of demons and dimensions.

Madness marching us toward martyrdom,
In lives leaving lies upon our lips.

Patience has a price to pay
So ante up another afternoon.

Great secrets guide us to the grave,
While fires fuel our fight to stay.

A Lust to Remember

Lust trickles its way into my veins again,

polluting my emotions,

and clouding my mind.

Like a fog drifting over my whole being,

it's caressing me so temptingly.

You do this to me.

It's like your pulling me in.

My lips need your touch,

You're intoxicating.

and I'm left craving you.

Still,

the masochist inside of me,

begs for you to come nearer.

And when you're close,

It takes all the willpower I have left,

to pretend that I'm unaffected by your gravity.

I dare not look you in the eye,

so you won't see the lust in mine.

God forbid, 

should I look at your lips.

least I lose all control.

I'm aching to run my fingers through your hair,

and pull you into me,

to feel your body moving in perfect rhythem with my own.

My obsessive mind,

keeps replaying hypothetical situations

that endlessly tempt my willpower.

I want so badly to take you into my arms,

and finally steal the breath from your lips.

A long awaited kiss,

fueled by a passion so strong,

I can't much longer control.

So deep and delicious.

How I long to feel your lips.

And I long to feel your body against mine,

hear you gasp in my ear,

as I place small, slow kisses 

along the inside of your neck.

God, you smell so good,

my hands long to touch you in unspeakable places.

Make you gasp and moan,

building anticipation.

An attraction just as unexpected as it is inconvenient,

Do you know how you've affected me?