Mr Blunder's epic story. Volume 1

Once upon a time there lived a man called Mr. Blunder. Always bumpin into shit, crashin' cars, spillin cran juice all over his good trousers. His heart was there but his equilibrium, not so much. He lived below the Oak Tree on Maple street in Birch City. Little did he know his constant blundering would save the world. It all began at Mr. Acorns Grocers on Pine ave. Mr. Blunder was buying some seedlings for his garden and pickin up some fresh apples to make a pie for his Lovely. He owed her the pie since he accidently ripped the skin off her forehead while trying to help her wax her eyebrows. She was a kind woman. Beautiful clavicle and quick wit like no other. Her eyes could guide even the most lost of souls to shore. Even Mr. Blunder who got lost in his own kitchen was able to find her. And his kitchen was no larger than that of a dollhouse.
Well finishin up his purchase at Mr. Acorns an armed assailent entered the market. Demanding all the fresh vegetables and vegetable oil so he could fuel his eco-friendly nuclear bomb. Mr Acorn had no choice to oblige as he was staring down the barrel of a very large potato gun. Mr Blunder went into a panic. He promised he'd be home to his lovely by the 3rd hour after noon. He went and hid in the canned goods aisle hoping not to be seen so he could escape through the back exit. He fumbled an apple and in trying to catch it he knocked over the Chef Boyardee display. Cans went flying and rolling everywhere. one tripped up the assailent who then fell and bumped his head on Mr Blunders cast iron skillet. He brought it with him everywhere in case he felt the need to cook an egg. The evil man was out cold and was taken to jail by the police. Mr Blunder was a hero. Mr Acorn was so delighted he gave him a fresh baked apple pie to bring home to his lovely. He was also given a police escort to make sure he arrived home safe, unlike the last time when he thought a tree stump was a hidden door to the cookie factory. He went missing 6 weeks.
He finally arrived home with warm pie in hand for his lovely. She had heard of his heroism on the daily news and greeted him with a big hug and kiss. They enjoyed the pie together and watched the sunset in peace. He did however fall in the toilet again after thinking his reflection was a secret KGB agent mocking him. But his every so delightful lovely clean him up and got him to bed. They both fell asleep in contentment while watching Sleepless in Seattle. Mr Blunder had found his meg ryan so he could rest easy.

Twas a beautiful morn' in Birch City. Mr Blunder was excited to try on his new velcro sneakers. No more laces for him since he tripped and knocked that poor family off the Sycamore Valley mountains. He was only trying to snap a photo of the ever so allusive Perigrine Falcon but he'd aimed the camera backwards and flashed his eyes, tripped over his Reebok's laces and sent the nice family Willow, weeping over the mountain top.
But alas, a new day was upon him and he velcro'd up and was ready to help his Lovely. Her home was destroyed by a falling Redwood that was struck by lightning and hit by a drunk driver simultaneously. The driver was fine but Mr Blunder didn't know that so he went to help. He insisted upon bandaging the man but had no actual bandage so he wrapped him feverishly with aluminum foil. The man looked like a retarded moth trying to emerge from it's caccoon. Well, lighting loves aluminum and decided to strike this man several hundred times, burning his flesh and killing him. Turns out the drunk driver was wanted for several bank robberies, mattress tag rip-offs and the murder of a zoo monkey who looked too much like his abusive father. Mayor Crabtree was set to award Mr. Blunder with a medal of honor and a bottle of barbeque sauce for his cast iron skillet. The ceremonies were to be held after he helped his Lovely.
Mr Blunder spent hours moving all of his Lovely's belongings to her new home on Palm st. His Lovely was smart and bubble wrapped everything 2 times over. Including her supply of bubblewrap. After several strenuous hours the move was complete. Mr Blunder helped his Lovely set up her furniture and hang her photos. She was very pleased and ready to start her new life in her new home. They both got dressed extra fancy for the Mayor Crabtree's ceremony honoring Mr. Blunder. His Lovely had to button his shirt and tuck in his shirt as he'd hammered 3 of his fingers into the wall trying to hang pictures. He was grateful and gave his Lovely a special golden lady bug pin to wear on her dress. They walked hand in hand to the ceremony where he was honored as a hero. So excited, Mr Blunder pulled out his cast iron skillet and cooked his famous Peanutbutter Omlettes for the whole town. Was a great day indeed. A great day............

Today seemed like such a wonderful day for Mr. Blunder. He had planned a picnic atop Sycamore Mountain for he and his Lovely. First off to Mr. Acorns for fresh produce. Some Watermelon, fresh bread, sparklin water and delicious turkey and ham. Oh what a joyous picnic t'would be. He grabbed a few veggies to fry up on his skillet. On his walk back from Mr. Acorn's Grocer Mr. Blunder stumbled upon a poor injured fox. Caught in a bear trap was he. Mr Blunder reached down to loosen his leg. The fox was out but was limping like the town drunk who only months earlier walked fairly normal until he tripped over a rotary phone on his way to the john. Mr Blunder tried to help him too but ended up crushing his leg in a trash compacter as the man's odor led him to believe that the leg was just a soiled old carpet rolled up and ready for garbage. The man was actually grateful as it gave him even more of an excuse to drink. Numb the pain. He thanked Me Blunder by making him a wonderful quilt with pictures of Oxen and Yak playing Violin in Mongolia. Beautiful stitch work. Mr Blunder used it to keep him and his Lovely warm in the cold season.
Now the poor fox could barely walk so Mr. Blunder rushed him home to try and take care of the poor fellow. The fox must have been hungry as Mr Blunder carried him because he reached his head down and ate several babies on the way. No matter to Mr Blunder as the babies were loud criers anyway. Always woke him from terrific dreams of orchid fields and doves. He got the fox home finally where he made a splint out of 2 chair legs and an old wash cloth. He then gave the fox a shot of whiskey. He didnt want to miss his picnic with his Lovely so he set the fox up infront of the television with his bad leg elevated and gave him s'mores and cocoa. His Lovely was very proud of his good deed as she took his arm and walked along to what would be the greatest picnic ever. Mr Blunder had a great life. He was thankful and he made sure to tell that to his Lovely as he accidentally poured pesto sauce on her new blouse. She wasnt upset. That is true love.

Spring was vastly approaching in beautiful Birch City. Flowers in blossom, leaves on trees, fat girls in tank tops with their stomach fat dripping out of the bottom like a tube of tooth paste with a boulder on the end. Mr Blunder had awoken at his lovely's and put on his oven mitts to make their morning coffee. They were oven mitts with pictures of distorted clocks. Mr Blunder loved clocks! He swore to wear oven mitts when making coffee because he burns so easily. He once got 3rd degree burns after spilling iced coffee in his lap. He safely brewed their morning coffee and they had sat to enjoy it together. His lovely's new home was finally unpacked and furnished. Mr Blunder worked very hard to help her. Despite several visits to the emergency room and a limb reattachment things went really smoothly. Mr Blunder was so happy about spring because they could partake in outdoor adventures again. Cycling, hiking, bird watching and synchronized swimming. 
His Lovely seemed rather pensive. Mr Blunder was off to do some chores so he kissed her on the head and wished her well. He was off to Mr. Acorn's market to get some habenero peppers and bacon for his skillet. He had some extra money so he picked up some fresh flowers for his lovely and a bunch boxes of mint green tic tacs. Those were his favorites. As Mr. Blunder arrived home from his chores and his pit stop at the ER where he needed to get his skull stapled when a bear bit his head. It appeared the bear had a toothache and Mr. Blunder just wanted to help. Not only does he carry a skillet with him 24/7 but he also keeps a tarter scraper. The bear was grateful but it was in his nature to try and eat Mr. Blunder and Mr. Blunder was ok with that. 
As he arrived at his Lovely's all of his things were stuffed into his red carry-on bag with the wheels. His Lovely said that now that she had her own home she didnt need him around anymore. She wanted to start fresh with a clear head. Mr Blunder was crushed. Heartbroken. His soul was caving in amidst the crumbling walls of his life. Everything seemed so good. They were in-love. They finished each others sentences. Ate each others meals and Mr. Blunder even cleaned the toilet daily. She didn't care to negotiate. She closed the door and Mr. Blunder was left alone with just his red bag and green tic tacs. His eyes burned from his tears so he couldn't drive home. Mr Blunder walked 22 miles alongside Sycamore Mountain to his residence. Broken more than any of his bones after the hundreds of accidents he'd been in. More crushed than his femur after that time he tried to kick a building like a soccer ball. Walking alone and cold, Mr Blunder ate his green tic tacs. No thoughts, no emotions. Just walking and eating his green tic tacs.........

It had been weeks since Mr Blunder was left to wander the empty roads by his Lovely. On nothing but a steady diet of mint tic tacs he tried to forge ahead. His heart felt clamped. His soul was stagnant. He was lost. On the streets and in his thoughts. Under a blanket of darkness Mr Blunder felt warm. Vulnerable, he looked to the night and let unholy spirits occupy his vacant eyes. Walking from the light Mr Blunder had no fears. He came to an abandoned gas station. The wind was getting cold. He saw a container labeled "Anti-freeze". Thinking it would prevent hypothermia he consumed the bottle. He marched onward to nowhere. His head got light, his heart murmured. His stomach felt like it was under attack by locusts and magpies. He quickly faded in the woods beyond the Pine Cone Resevoire. 
When he finally came to there stood before him some kind of spirit. She called herself Milly. She came from the shadows of the brightest of lights. A summer dress with lilacs and a wonderful clavicle. Her job was to guide lost souls through the fog and haze to the eternal peace. So comforting was her voice and touch. Without question Mr Blunder followed her upward. She told him his pain was gone and he was finally free. She had given him his greatest gift ever. Milly the sweet angel spread her wings and flew back into the heavens. He would not soon forger Milly for saving his soul. 
The after life was nice. Mr Blunder saw many birds and giraffes and oak trees. He saw the fox he had saved that eventually met his death at the hands of a racist tornado. ( apparently foxes are the blacks of feral canines.) They shared some saltines and lemonade. The fox seemed so happy and at peace. Mr Blunder really liked this place. They even had self reliant vacuums that came by to clean up the saltine crumbs. Mr Blunder had decided he wanted to stay here. He wasn't going back to that dark place ever again. He wasn't ever going to allow his heart to be tortured again. He also liked that there was no need to urinate in the afterlife. He could drink what he pleased and as much as he'd like without having to pee every 11 seconds. Just as he found a cloud with a good view to reside upon he felt a tap. It was Milly. She came back for him. She needed to bring him back to life. It wasn't his time. She just wanted to give a glimpse into a better world so he would see that things would eventually end up ok. Her eyes were like two pristine lakes and her smile a gateway to utopia. He knew it would be tough but Milly promised she would be there in spirit always. She took him back to his home and birch city and bandaged his heart. She brought along her 3 legged dog because his fleas brought luck. With a renewed faith in humanity Mr. Blunder cooked them a fantastic meal in his skillet. Homemade tacos and beans. Milly had to return to work as an angel. Mr Blunder thanked her and watched in awe as she separated the clouds and ascended back to the afterlife. Mr Blunder had been reborn. And because he was so nice to Milly she made it so he only had to pee 4 times a day. His urine also came out in the colors of a rainbow. Mr Blunder was now ready for his next adventure.

Mr Blunder was in sort of a limbo. He just wandered along happily enjoying his life. He would stop at night and pick peppers in the wild and cook them in his skillet with deer. Now Mr Blunder loved animals and would never intentionally kill one, especially in an unfair fight. How a person can call hunting a sport is a mystery since the odds are against the animal. Mr Blunder HAD to kill the deer. apparently this deer had a major crack problem and had resorted to gang violence and armed robbery to support his habit. Held an AK-47 to Mr. Blunder's head, demanded his skillet, his hot peppers and his wallet. Mr Blunder may have been a tad clumsy and looked foolish with his one lazy eye, but he never backed down. He distracted the deer by sprinkling some crack on a tree stump. when the deer went to consume it Mr. Blunder smashed his brains in with his skillet. And since he didnt believe in wasting he cooked up the deer meat with his hot peppers and had a feast. He used the skin to make a belt, a skillet cover and a cowboy hat to impress potential new lovely's.

He stumbled upon a park where a bunch of people had gathered. They were all singing merrily and holding signs and complaining about something. Mr Blunder noticed a certain group quite upset. They were mad because the people in the giant buildings not knocked over by airplanes were taking all the money and not sharing. One man kept yelling at the men in suits that people were hungry and they had no food. He said that he was the voice for the hungry and was going to let everyone in the world know that people were hungry. Mr Blunder was confused as he saw the man doing all the yelling had some granola bars. dont see why he wouldnt share. Mr Blunder pulled out his trusty skillet and served deer meat to all those hungry. People were shocked that someone DID something instead of just complaining over and over and over and over again. Mr Blunder didnt care either way, he was just happy to help. 
Along came the police who must have heard the disturbance. They asked who was cooking and serving food without a permit. and like cowards the protestors pointed out Mr. Blunder. I guess they didnt wanna risk the chance of getting arrested and losing their shiny tablet devices and web cameras. The police upset by Mr Blunder having the nerve to treat people fairly peppered sprayed the shit out of him. Mr Blunder had no idea what the fuck pepper spray was. He thought the police were just being nice and feeding him his favorite vegetable as a sign of gratitude for him feeding the ingrate protestors. Mr. Blunder soaked in every last drop and smiled. He thanked the officers who seemed quite confused. Not too sure what to do next the police left to attend to actual real crimes taking place. i heard they stopped a murder! The protestors cheered Mr Blunder because he had withstood the police assault and ran them off. Mr Blunder didnt see it that way. He saw a bunch of hypocrites who wouldnt help him and made him the patsy because they didnt want the pepper spray to ruin their mp3 players. Mr Blunder was mild mannered but did not like being crossed.....He took out the AK that he grabbed from the deer he killed and shot and killed the entire crowd. Their Ipods were bloody and their ipads had skull fragments and brains all over. Blunder was the last man standing. He didnt like the city anymore. so he set out to leave.
As he was leaving a well dressed man from a giant building came out and thanked him and gave Mr. Blunder $4 Billion dollars. Mr Blunder was shocked but still called the man an asshole for stealing the money. He kept the money and brought it back to Birch City to take care of his friends. He was a true hero for DOING something. Mr Blunder felt alive and in control again :)

After several adventures to help ease his mind from the loss of his Lovely, Mr Blunder decided to return to his own home. The cold winds of winter were a reality check for all that was going on in Mr. Blunders life. This was the first time he was to open the door to his own home since he's lovely closed the door on him. Initially his heart sank into his stomach but thanks to the life preserver he swallowed as a child his heart floated back to its normal spot. He thought the preserver was a wintergreen lifesaver. His home was cold. In nature along with the temperature. Every step further in made the sound of a dying heartbeat. Creaking towards the lamp he turned it on so he may see. His home, much like his soul was completely empty. Bare cupboards and wilted flowers. even though he was home there wasn't any evidence of life inside the whole place.
his favorite chair now felt like a slice of stale bread. It was so quiet his thoughts feared materializing for they like all other life around Mr. Blunder might die. Mr. Blunder was beyond lonely. Milly was occupied with helping lost souls so he did not wish to bother her. He knew she had done all she could and there was no breathing life back into his dense spirit. He's run out of lighter fluid for his skillet so he just held it close in his stale bread chair. 
Mr Blunder was truly trapped in the corroded physical tomb that was now his body. No one and no where. He was that far off island that the sun never reached in its daily rotation. That last little ember by the abandoned camp sight. Everyone was in his past and there was nothing in his future. All his blunders left a trail of torn lives. Even with the best intentions he destroyed all that was beautiful around him. Even with an earnest heart and selfless actions, he burned more than he built. He drowned rather than shower. He didn't want to cause any more harm. He couldn't stand another loss. He couldn't face himself. He poured out his green tic tacs and ate the whole box. Slowly climbing the stale bread chair and tying his lovely's old cowboy belt around his neck. He felt Milly close by. The first bit of warmth he had felt in ages. He had reached the end of his rope and took that final step....He smiled at Milly and then was gone. As he traveled with the angel he took one last look back. a flower had grown where he last stood. Mr. Blunder had done something right! He was finally at peace.

This Bitter Chill

i walk into this home. this bitter chill. The sentimental tone. the air is distilled. the pretentious greet, the obligation. The none too discreet, the stated observations. The obvious lingers in ignorant's echoes. The body is in it, but the soul it won't let go. The fire since kindled into a pool of ash. The ghosts they all mingle at the sight of the crash. And you want to believe that there's meaning and substance, that there's growth and abundance but the sun soon sets as the hope dies in dozens.
Life is a murder and god left the scene as we lay in millions, can't count on our dreams. He slaughtered the sheep, and now we can't sleep. blood in the sockets, the lint from my pockets and the thoughts that won't stop it. The flood's on its way. But you can't clean secrets, don't ask where i keep it. Won't find where to bleach it cuz the stain shall remain. I walk from this house, no bags on my arm. No looks over shoulder, no good luck charm. Free from the pageant, the lonely and stagnant. Free from constriction to complete my submission.My eternal inscription. There's no more prescription. No vulnerable convictions, no feigning descriptions of an ideal non fiction.
now  I walk from this road with no shadow in tow, no weeping willow. No feet swing below. i walk a free man, a being, a soul. From beatings i go. From seedlings i grow.

he walked away

follow the shadows into the abyss. Off the cliff, rocks soaked in mist as water and your body hit. 

The splash deflecting off the gull's wing tip as the horizon and skyline split. Split in two, dichotomous, the fable and the baby blue. i thought it was through. Paul bearers carried my memory of you in to the forest of ghosts where all was eschewed. My path was renewed and my conscience was clear. Now the shadows are my walls and the echoes are my ears. Beneath the fallow soil as the sun eviscerates the clouds. burning flower pedals sending life back to the ground.

Manipulate the past just to justify your future as you stipulate the facts into parables to suit ya' . I'm not what they thought, i'm a glitch in the computer. A wrench in the cog, i'm a knife that'll shoot ya' . But i took the high roads where the sky goes, To a place that only i know. You were buried in my memory and burnt by happy pyros. And as i'm resting peacefully where the shaded trees lay, i still hear you call my name since you made me walk away. i feel tremors from your blame but i've cleaned all the stains. I'm at the bottom of the top but i can't complain. Happy as a meadow giving life her terrain. he walked away from life to rise once again. 

out of chances....

my best chances have gone down the drain like tears in blood stains. Hanging my head in a cold shower looking at it all fall apart, the linoleum is giving me a concussion, my face and wall the percussion. now my skull broke a pipe and there's a leak and a massive eruption of blood and defeat. Where will i eat? where will i lay and hear the floor boards creek? where will i have a seat that's not cushioned by cardboard and concrete?  Where will the spark and engine meet? or will it be the steel and the vain that make the cycle complete. Inside my mind is a dangerous landscape. land mines and the strangest people with secret handshakes. ive got a stomach ache and a loose canon aimed at my own face. I don't know the password and they're about to amputate. Sever my mind from my body and set me free into a maelstrom of all the racing thoughts that fell off track in a hailstorm , dejected memories come crashing at my feet, i know i failed lord. Let me slip through the cracks with broken shadows and slide under the tombs of the pharaohs to a place where hopes and dream congregate. let it be my resting place. My respite from the python necklace that gripped my throat from birth all the way to this morning's breakfast. My best chances have sailed into the dead river. I hang my head beneath the branch and close my eyes forever.

i like certs

there is not enough blood to spill.
not enough air to breath.
not enough time to kill.
not enough thought to conceive.
vagary be my will
and set the fire to reprieve.
Warm the blade
storm the heart
burn the soul
death do I part.
blaze the saddles
on dead horses ride
the ghost in the meadow
the white's in my eyes
There's nothing to wake up to.
There's no one to say bye.

he turned the light off.

we all want to be wanted. an empty cardboard box an unpeeled orange.
The remnants left upon the ignorant's carnage. I haven't slept since the smoke cleared
 and waters parted. Last on the shelf at the back burner sale. silenced like the "E" at the end of the Dan's Quayle, i gave him a potato but he punched me in the stomach and bailed. My family doesn't value me. i used say it's cuz i was priceless but the truth behind the broken bulbs is that i can no longer fight this. and there was never a cavalry. Not a ghost, a whisper, a faint wind or a cloud. my vocal chord's out of tune and there's no light's allowed. The only reverb come's from the anxious nerves as the acidic bile is spilled outside this ghost town suburb. a colony of autonomy, the shadow of a dichotomy. there's a light on the hybrid but it dare not bother me. I'm going to the place where the needles are soft. Looking up from the bottom of the ocean the reasons stop. 100 more miles that i'm left to run, 93 million between what can't be undone. and i'm left with a nagging cough. tired of sitting alone collecting moths, so that light that i left has finally been turned off.

darkness doesn't stray.

in the absence of peace swarms of chaos hover. There is no eye to this storm. Blind destruction as clouds smother. The sky is falling, the souls ascend, time is stalling as fiction ends. A broken bottle, a barbed wire halo. Bleeding to death on the tail of a tornado. Sworn to secrets and burned by regrets the wreckage is massive, i'm cold with the sweats. Broke and in debt. Consumed by the moon an exhumed silhouette. When all hope is gone and it's too dark for dawn, i go with the ghosts away from the fire and waves on the coast standing upon what's left of the badly drawn map headed straight down the oceans throat. This fucking life is nothing but a goddamn severed limb rotting under a dying tree eating away at the dead skin. An out of tune mandolin strummed to the sound of a man chewin' ambien. This is the eternal sleep, the perpetual calm after the storm where the floods run deep.where the shoulders you cry on are colder than headstones where your loved one's weep. If death is my gift i got a short christmas list. a bottle of whiskey and 100 pills in my fist.

dead, rivers

my posture has sunk. They set fire to my sail. I'm capsizing in the dead sea. The only thing living is me. I'm surrounded by ghosts, demons and smoke. The night fell before day ever broke. And my pain isn't just pretty words to sadistic eyes.  my smile isn't happiness, i just became the disguise. My hope cannot float in a sea in which i wrote, For I've known all along that hope is a hoax. A bent card in the spokes. humming an anecdote about a boy jumping rope. No one on either end. That's how its always been. i finally see the truth as the fog ascends.......And through the years of pain i escaped, by writing words. From the worst i was deterred. i escaped my darkest days. But i see what lie's a head and I've no more words to say.....

I've died so many times in my mind. My thoughts have turned on me. My impulse at its whim. making blood spin in my skin a cyclone of anger and sadness and sin. Begging the knife to jump the fuck in! It wants to see light, oh glorious light. A quandary. An everlasting plight.  They've carved their list of demands in my arms. An orca, a pumpkin and the angel's alarmed. The chaos and ruin , she's forced to look over. A spider web, some dead roses and a burning cobra.
I need her, and she knows. The darker Celtic sun and a phoenix mid pose. I'm stuck in my prose. I can't juxtapose. I just take the pills till my eyes are forced closed. Asleep in my clothes thoughts meander in space. I dream of completion in infinity's grace. A den amount to life's sentence. A dim light on a porch and a tree for remembrance.   There's a gun to my heart and the suffering's back. There's a city in ruins and a blood thirsty cat. Clawing away through the days. Stalling inside the mind's maze. There's uppers and downers and ideas afloat. There's a calm in the air, song bird on my throat. I've been choking on my blood since the last of my heart broke. I see the paint on the wall and it needs a new coat.

My scars are my bible.

My hate dies with you! I can be free. i can be destined for something more than mediocrity. Left in a fucking gutter for the world to slaughter me. Dead on arrival , no mother or god , just an instinct for survival. My scars are my bible.
Ive built a wall out of every broken promise, a lock without a key and a Happy Face on it. You chose the bottle first,then every man under your skirt, we washed the kitchen floors with comet cuz you made us feel like dirt.  Just accessories that were given bare necessities. All these demons in my head you offered no remedy. Sent to fucking bed with out a meal, just bad memories. You turned your cheek as i became my worst rival. You inherited me and I, from the meek. no words to speak, my scars are my bible.
As the wind whispers a fate's solemn message, i see a crumbling shadow and an unlearned lesson.
But i'm highly educated and under medicated. I am born of my thoughts and the nightmares they created as i was torn from the spot where the sun once radiated. I've spent a life on trial, you hung me with the jury. Got high till i was blurry and dropped me from the 3rd story of your self serving allegory. For not his laughter there'd be no more chapters. You paid everything but attention so now you don't matter. My burning bridge won't warm the cold shoulder. These scars are my bible, my motor. my drive. You're as dead as the sea that the waves skipped over.

view of the room.

When the sun invades my eyes and my vision's paralyzed there's no hindsight.
In the mortal shell i bathe on a wave of conception to the grave below's my mind's flight.
Carry on, in between where my thoughts are never seen. Carry on, tear the seam. fabricate the American dream. it's divine plight.

Through the cracks, through the walls. through the perpetual falls, as the soul begins to fade we erode beneath the clay and the rise of a new dawn nothing change's when we're gone.
 Through the lines of permanent, not welcomed by firmament in my twilight.
what was wrong cannot be right as i surrender to night. It's a highlight.
Through the cell, i escaped. the apparition hovers in wake and i shine bright.

Where the rain begins to fall and the water doesn't land, as the shadows cast a pall on the sins of every man.
There's no guide no helping hand, there's no preexisting plan. Just a wind  that saunters bye and a solemn, honest goodbye.
As i rise above the sun, i'm at peace and whole as one. I am all right. No more mortal shell restraints.
No more voices in my brain, i am finite. Carry on, i can see a transparent vacancy but i'm free. from the venom of the words, the sheep slaughtered in herds as the cauldron of life stirs. no more hate, no retribution. no disease no more pollution. eternal peace,  nature's solution i thank  GOD for evolution....it's a sign right?

broken dreams

dreams hit the sidewalk, and sputter toward the drain. you hit the ground running and then hit a wall. Shadow's remain as the imagery falls. tears in the ocean and darkening skies a pageant of failures and lone passers by. and i shudder to think of what's next. I'm stuck on a page with no text and i don't feel alive. I feel they don't hear me sincerely beneath quips and queries i've neglected you dearly. No, i don't feel alive............
see the dream break the dream break the dream break with the sun, into the sun. Burning, escape and the clouds can't negate burning sun, watch the blood run. scattered into condensed thoughts, and stomach knots.  But i matter not...
so come on and scribe this reality with a couple of lines and a dead battery. We can write all the wrongs and play cavalry. You can be my savior. And i won't let you down. Like my dreams let me down. ...
see the dream break the dream break the dream break with the sun, into the sun. Burning, escape and the clouds can't negate burning sun, watch the blood run. scattered into condensed thoughts, and stomach knots.  but you're the last real thing that i've got. so i'm gonna hold on. Like a pause , like a cause and blanket of flaws i'll hold on...to your dream.

when i can't sleep i imagine

my smile is a gateway drug. it's a mask I've grown to wear. There's electricity but no plugs, and the air in the darkness gets you higher than a scare. I can't love because you think i'm a monster. I can't feel because you're too close. They shriek at the thought of compassion, and weep as the soul gets morose. It's more than  a misunderstanding. Its a demonstrative back handing and my smile has been broken. Welcome to the real me. A capsized vessel in a dead sea. It gets stressful in this mental medley. a thousand thoughts per heart beat and you're the center of every. The nucleus . a palpitation's envy. I wanna coast through the essence of your words, and land in your thoughts where i'm safe from the trampling herds. The masses. the visions of panic, chaos and disasters. I wanna escape this global  misery. and scrape through the gravel till i'm resting in your lee.

a poem i wrote but too lazy to title

and i've got wounds for the wounds that never heal. and i've got words, so many words i cannot deal. You are gone but you won't go away. The sun is shining but the sky still gray. I'm hanging on..to forever and a day. Where have you gone? My sweetest of meadows. Where do you sleep when i lie awake? From the heavens, to a crumbling ghetto, i will wait. i will wait, i will wait.
beneath the hope of a dead god, i levitate beyond the fog,  the wind recites the epilogue , the girl and her 3 legged dog. They all lead me to every flaw that smashed the mirror when i saw. It's over now the harvest sown.  The echoes hushed, the seeds all grown. No turning back, no blood from stones. From the heavens to  demon's home. I will wait. but not alone. Between the words, beneath the wounds. The elephant has left the room. bye.

an untitled poem about i dunno.

its amazing what a grazing from a one inch razor can do to stop aging. One minute you're star gazing and praising the distance between yourself and the infinite equation, from conception of thought to painful memories that keep playing. The next you're on a table under lights meeting the fable. Long beyond stable and they're unable to bring you back with jumper cables. They dimmed the lights on the hazel as the eyes rolled back like a discount store label. But you can't put a price on life, a small slice and you're reaching heights beyond an angel's sight. Beyond a souls flight. So far away from that blade of grass that smelled so nice. So far from the smile you lost on the 15th night. Now you're a cadaver, a pile of matter who doesn't matter on stormy eves as lightning strikes and stars scatter. The vultures chatter as they gather and circle above the fallen ladder. A grazing, abrasion, hanging out in the basement. You put a price on life and he collected the payment.

gold

as i flirt with the shadows. as i tempt the darkness. I walk a thin line between compassion and heartless. my heart's on my sleeve and bloods on her carcass.
Her name was Gold and she was priceless. I met her in a crisis. A chaotic vacuum of mud and ice picks.
We were each others salvation. She was my cleansing, i was her inebriation. A one year vacation from rabbit ears on her head transmitting static stations. And when all was sorted i was escorted back to the house where the windows were boarded.
For 13 months I sat between these walls alone in waiting. waiting for never ending winter. night fall. but i never bothered  to see if it snowed. i watch the floors grow mold as the paint on the ceiling erodes. I'm still here. And so are you. I thought this watch was magic but my soul's still black and blue. Not a moment passes, not a breath escapes. that you don't wander through my mind like we were holding hands just yesterday.
And i can let go, but to another I can't hang on. Ive heard a thousand melodies but you're still my favorite song.
i. will. never. stop. loving. you.

the devil's advocate. a poem by me

i could think of a million reasons but i only need one. take a look in the mirror, turn around and run. i am your devil's advocate. it happened before you imagined it. i'm just here to steer you away from a tragedy. follow me through the alphabet where you'll be greeted happily by my words of praise and a slate that's immaculate. Deep down i know you wanna be free. deep down i know you wanna meet me. deep down you're miserable. Attached to a broken record that's playing a song out of key . slowly lift the needle and let go of he. You seem so dead, drop the weight, you're figure's already perfect it just needs a smile on its face.
You're trapped in a room without a view, closing in walls and heart that's blue. No need to settle, take the first step . i'll guide you back to the light where the rest of the beauty's kept. grow sweet flower, let your pedals flutter. Don't be a rusty nail in a wooden floor where broken hearts never recover. Let me show you life again. i know its what you crave. Don't fall into the system, let us gather here today. to save you from a path that leads you to an unfulfilled grave. I know you fear the unknown, but your going through the motions an emotionless inhabitant. step out from your comfort and join the devil's advocate. :)