Lies of an Angry Ocean

The ocean shouted at the clouds,
“You’re pathetic you know?”
“With no connection to anything,”
“You’re just shallow fools,”
“Floating about in your airheaded ways,”
You’re useless, every one!”

And the ocean’s waves crash and turn,
Frothing in an angry rage,
Disguising the lies it so passionately shouted,
Lies rooted in anger,
At those vapors that escaped from within,
That left it sitting there, abandoned,
While the went on their ways, without a care,

For what use is depth,
Without freedom?
What use is depth,
Without care,
What use is it,
Without someone to explore it?

And if clouds are free to go on their way without consequence,
What use is an ocean?

For the Sake of Knowledge

Step forward into the institution,
Do it for the sake of knowledge,
Information is a powerful thing,
You should get some sort of edge.

Learn about all the things in the world,
To learn some sort of skill of trade,
Do it under the watchful florescent lights,
You can’t learn anything in unregulated shade.

And learn all our norms and conditions,
In that trial and error way,
We can teach you anything you need to know,
But it’s with time and pain you’ll pay.

Everything, except how to live,
How to be an exceptional human being,
We’ve no use for anything of that sort,
It’s not a sight worth seeing.

And in the shades are those,
Who learn for knowledge’s and life sake.
Education can make you learn,
But never teach you what’s really at stake.

Self Worth

In order to know the worth of self,
You must learn your worth from others,
And from what you may take of that,
Start questioning who you are,
And the answer never is all that clear,
For like all pursuits of knowledge,
One answer raises more questions,
And you never really know the true value,
Of what you are worth to you.

Of Mice and Men

I took a shovel once again,
Splinters of sadness piercing through my hand,
And with heavy sigh escape my head,
I began to bury my best laid plans.

I hated being by your damned charm,
That I dulled senses with every available tool,
But desires pierced through smoke filled mind,
And I went and made myself a fool.

But plans themselves are not foolish work,
The idiocy was in believing in you,
For I’ve filled a graveyard with hopes and plans,
Every headstone marked with your name and rue.

And I can’t help but think you’re a bit cruel,
For dragging me along on this ride,
Every plan that I have to bury,
Makes me die a little on the inside.

I took a shovel once again,
Splinters of sadness piercing through my hand,
This work won’t end until I’m dead,
Buried in the corpses of best laid plans.

At the Dawn

At the dawn of a new era, when all things that are old can again claim newness, do I stand alone yet again. In the crackle of artificial stardust that dies in an instant, many do celebrate, but I stand alone yet again. I’ve been cast and tempered in this forge of shadows and isolation so many times, that I have been hardened to the feeling.

But, as the night of the past year draws to a close, and the dawn of something new begins, I feel it resonate within me yet again. For what is time or age to someone with no memories and too few attachment? Can one who straddles that line of life and death become reborn on that resetting of the calendar?

There is no answer.

For like everything in life, such questions are left to invisible patterns and chaotic games of chance, all one an do is leave it to hope. But hope is hard to muster when things have followed a pattern of sadness and disappointment for one’s entire life. But is is the sign of a weak man to be so defeated, even after being beaten down for a lifetime.

At the dawn of a new era, I am cautious, but not defeated. And I allow the first rays of sunlight to hit me, and use them to guide my path yet again.

I'd Do That Kind of Stuff for You (A NSFW Poem)

Lock lips so tenderly,
Twirl our tongues and then you’ll see,
How softly my hand slides down your hip,
As I gently bite on your lip.

Though I want to push forward,
That goal that I’ve been pushing toward,
I refrain, and continue my onslaught of tongue,
And taste the sweet breath coming from your lungs.

And when I figure it will not hurt,
I slowly slip under your shirt,
And then I find myself at your chest,
Deftly caressing your tender breast.

Your pulse quickens, your flames being fanned,
By the work of tongue and hand,
And your pants I then doff,
Because our pleasure’s end is quite far off.

The scent of you hits my nose,
Drives my desire beyond where it normally goes,
And when my peak does arrive,
Headfirst into you do I dive.

I find myself intoxicated by your taste,
And thus do not act in haste,
As I explore your as much I can,
Your euphoric pleasure is my plan.

And when our goddess does eke,
And I feel you reach your peak,
I do not give up, but continue on,
Until everything but ecstasy from you is gone.

And after your are rocked by orgasm many times,
Do I even attempt for that act so sublime,
And I’d do it time and again, it’s true,
I’d do all that stuff for you.

Love Me Do

Love me do,
But you don’t,
I want you to,
But you won’t.

But I can still,
Live without you,
But I can still wish,
For you to love me do.

Positivity

Maintaining a bit of positivity,
Is a difficult thing to muster for some.

When the coin keeps landing on tails,
You find it hard to bet on heads.

But without some positivity,
You find it hard to live.

So with the deck stacked against you,
You have to keep playing the game.

And it then seems like positivity,
Is something based in illogic.

The (Failed) Education of Romance

Can you blame humanity,
For their terrible behavior,
In the name of love?

After all, their education in the subject,
Has been failed and flawed,
And they know nothing about it.

Their first role models are their parents,
Who fight and are riddled with flaws,
And just seem nonsensical together.

They then turn to our romantic stories,
Where if you were to act upon what they teach,
You’d end up in prison.

And the only way to learn,
Is to fail so many times,
You eventually get it right.

The Somatic Mind

The somatic mind,
Is so much a thing of beauty,
A blazing ball of electricity,
That gives us everything about ourselves,
Turning the weapons of Jupiter,
Into a gift of life,
That is the miracle,
Of the somatic mind.

Damned Lust

Lust can be good,
But also a damned thing,
It can drive you to step forward,
But also step too far,
It makes you plan and scheme,
And think of things most foul,
And the only thing that can cure lust,
Is to let it succeed,
The damned thing that rules our lives.

A Memorable Night

Lets make this evening a memorable night,
Our time together is so fleeting,
I fear you may forget me,
And I’d do so much for you,
That I’d give everything in my power,
To create one unforgettable memory.

For to be forgotten,
Is a fate worse than death,
For the dead live on in our hearts and minds,
But the forgotten do not even exist,
And to you who I feel so passionately about,
I shall try my hardest to make you not forget me,
So I cannot die to someone else,
Not again.

So my dear,
Come with me to create,
A most memorable of nights.

Distorted World to an Illness Riddled Mind

Cramps and queasiness fill me,
Nausea is about to kill me,
This illness that will not cease,
On my mind and body it does fleece.

Sitting down to a boring and bland meal,
Hoping to break this sickness’ seal,
When the illness begins to take control,
And made my perceptions of things unroll.

Time jumped forward in leaps and bounds,
Then slowed to a crawl, and even rewound,
The walls’ colors began to fade away,
And sounds began to linger and stray.

And just like that it was all gone,
And left me without a semblance of what went on,
A distorted world to an illness riddled mind,
Is something no one wants to find.

Plans, Schemes, and Anticipation

Anticipation is a driving force,
In that mysterious thing called fate,
And it is one of the few things we have control over,
For our anticipation makes us plan and scheme,
To get more of what we desire our of life.

But is our anticipation for the best?
Though we act out of our desires,
What we want may not actually benefit,
Any others, or even ourselves,
So can we call anticipation a good thing?

The simple truth is it is neither good nor bad,
But simply a part of out nature,
For we will always plan and scheme,
Always trying our best to come out ahead,
So why not anticipate our outcomes?

Less Crazy

Can one really know,
How much more or less crazy they are,
Until someone else confirms it?
It makes you wonder,
If you were that crazy to begin with.