Axis (Or: In a dream after taco night)

Life.

It kept revolving,
and revolving,
and revolving,
and revolving.

And then,
it realized,
that it had been revolving for a while.
So, it started spinning.

And it did so,
until...
It spun the other way.
Just for a change of pace.

And then,
it revolved,
and threw a 360 in there,
then revolved again.

And then,
it stopped revolving,
just to prove the point,
that it could stop revolving.

And then...

And then...

And then...

It did a barrel roll.

This odd road I take to write

This is what I do
for you:

I clobber words together
with every letter
to tell you what my story's about,
then I put emotion behind them
and try to rhyme them
as I speak and shout.

I seek out really sad stories
and old former glories
and retell them as if it was a game,
or I let out my voices
that give horrible choices
and publish it all in my name.

I look on through eyes
that have seen some of life's big lies
and gaze at beauty with fixation,
then I dream them with colour
in the life of another
and let them explore all nations.

I let life flow by,
never stopping to cry,
so that great things explode onto page,
and I deal with higher things
without a tether, net or wings
as to try to surpass my own age.

So just keep on reading my journey's road
as I go on on abroad,
so that I will continue my tale,
because when I finally fail to live,
whether because of time or shiv,
the ideas will go on, without fail.

:And this is what you see
for me.

tak-tak-BANG-tak-tak

I ready the old drums of war,
but not for what they were intended for.
This time the beat I used to play
will have to fade and go away.

I'm playing a sound never tried before,
and have no clue how well it will score,
for the reason that I now bring these out
is not for the usual laughable bout.

I used to use these tools for fun,
to start a battle, and then to run
to the higher place to watch the hell
that I had just started on a random spell.

But those days are gone, and I've hidden that beat.
Those little battles that ended in defeat
still linger in the darker parts of my mind
although less than before, for now I find

those beats I played everso long ago
are coming back and letting me know
that that had worked will work so well now,
and this time, I'll be on top, and willing to bow.

So I start up the beat, nostalgia rings through,
the bad time from then will help me against you.
I will orcastrate this all the way to the end,
and you will, never, EVER, try to hurt another friend.

Those who walk the storm

I walk through the worst storm of the year,
taking my time, having no fear,
laughing when blasts of sound come in,
and watching as rain curtains grow think and thin.

The wind tries to blow me everywhich way,
and though it seems like it'll just last the day,
I let it slip on, no plans where to go,
just taking the long route, making every step slow.

I spot what looks like the sign of another
who was walking at ease, not searching for cover,
and soon, we were walking, whereever we may walk,
and smiling when sound made it impossible to talk.

We look upon a world that was covered in rain,
but had, nonetheless, looked overall the same,
and while we had meant no offense to another,
laughed as he sprinted blindly for any form of cover.

And then it hit me: we were those who lived through this before,
so that we could do it again, and again. and even more.
Because after surviving tall the struggles and strife,
how scary can it be to go through a storm called life?

Stepping away from myself

As I move from the darkness,
things become clear.
Life was never as good there
as the start of light here.

Those everdark thoughts
that still linger in my mind
were the chains that limited ambition,
that dragged me behind.

My dark clouds and shadows
that would cast themselves at will
were the daggers that cut my tracks,
and took away the thrill.

Those little voices that rose up
and brought me down to size
will have no chance this time.
They will not stop my rise.

And now my overactive mind
that would tend to overtake
will focus on the goal now,
and not possible mistakes.

These are all wild boasts,
and though they will take time,
I will become a better person through them,
and leave all of my life's grime.

Never letting go

I watch as the world I've known fades away.

Friends walk their paths, to be seen again on a much later date,
the pattern I followed being completely destroyed,
and the challenges I now face scare me.

I have no security, no knowing of what comes next.

The adult world beckons, and grins it's scary smile,
the ideas that I've held get ready to be blown away,
and the free time I had shrinks, pushing me closer to dangerous things.

But still, I can laugh.

They can make me dress up in a suit,
they can expect seriousness,
they can try to make me walk the bland line of adulthood...

But I am SO going to make faces at them when they don't look.

The Boy and the Branch

The trees just stays planted where they are,
looking down from so very afar,
knowing that he would be the one,
and shaking in laughter before he'd begun.

They know his quest will end at the top,
they even know where the calmness will stop,
for these trees have sat for many a year,
and remember all the things from back then to here.

They remember the time that the first boy climbed,
when a long lost trial that had once defined
whether the man that was inside,
had yet to show his family's pride.

They had seen the sights that many had lost,
and although they did it with a cost,
they lasted longer than others have yet,
but they have seen too much, and wish to forget.

So as they watched him come up the steep hill,
they wanted what he would do, though he meant no ill.
He was just dared to a challenge, with no room to back away,
and must show all of his might, or be abandoned this day.

The trees looked down to him, knowing how far he'd come,
and understanding how little he meant to some,
and they decided that with their dying fall,
they would give him the gift to rise above all.

So as the the boy finally stood at the goal,
the trees finally let their old life take their toll.
They fell to their deaths around the young man,
and surrounded him, as only wooden walls can.

The tree of them lay there, leaving him safe,
although his chin was marked where branches had strafe.
He bore scars as a witness, as well as a branch,
that one day soon, he would decide to blanch.

He was shunned as a sinner when he had returned to his home,
for destroying the trees that many a man loved to roam,
and for not even completing what was the greatest test they've known,
and now that their gods had fallen down, they were to be overthrown.

The boy soon fled from his village's wrath,
not knowing that in the end, his would be the to last laugh.
He was doomed to wander the forests for life,
with no friends, no family, no saviour, no wife.

But in his everlasting retreat,
he found that it was one that would not beat.
He was left to live, and was helped by the wild,
for it was the one who had hindered this child.

And so, the boy lived his life with much grace,
and even looked after his own tribal race.
He watched them with his pure white tree leg,
even though all they had done to his life was renege.

The Dark One

On that darkest night,
I could barely write.
All the stars were out and bright,
and not a sign of homemade light.

In this endless, calming dark,
there was no sound, no call, no bark,
nothing at all leaving their mark,
in this endless forest of a park.

Then, to turn my words into lies,
and, to my own surprise,
near some trees that continue to rise,
I saw glowing and mysterious eyes.

I knew not what beast it could be,
but soon, I started to see
that this creature would not leave be
until it had what it came for: Me.

It wanted a new ally in play,
and I who dwelled mostly in day,
looked like someone who was willing to stay
in the darkness, as it was my preferred way.

In it's eyes, it showed me it's fun,
pretending to be like one
who lived happily under the sun,
and manipulated till her doom was done.

It's life was much like mine,
except when crossing one particular line.
Playing the sides for fun was fine,
but not for the despair on which it would dine.

So, in the end, I said no.
But it seemed that it was something it would not let go.
It could not force me to stay, though,
and could do nothing but watch me go.

And now, I notice a new face
that I really wish that I could erase.
It joins its brothers and sisters in that place
that is stuffed with opinions that come from their own base.

Trying to Compare

Blue sky, with white lines.
Green leaf, with brown tendrils.
Yellow flower, with red necks.
Silver moon, with black canvas.

Or...

Blue water, with white corpses.
Green tavern, with brown suds.
Yellow shirt, with red stains.
Silver car, with black blood.

Nature has its beauties and wonders.
Ours has lots of hurtful blunders.
Nature is just so.. natural.
Why do we focus on our nature at all?

The answer hides at the end.

There was once a man,
but he is no longer here.
It is true with life.

We all live to die,
to disappear, and then fall,
into the unknown.

No path escapes it,
yet we don't know where it goes.
How funny is that?

We have our own thoughts,
but none of them are right on.
But still, we hope so.

We will continue
with our little guessing game,
till we join that man.

It's louder and louder every day.

As the beat goes on, I stand my ground,
for nothing really compares to the power of sound.
It is a pleasant thing, which is nice to hear,
but it does so much evil, just through the ear.

We never hear silence, so we always lose health,
and bit by bit, we lose parts of our self.
And yet, some people never put it down,
never do they take off that musical crown.

They may be driven mad, or maybe they'll find
that they can deal, that they have a different mind.
Whatever truth strikes true, there's still lots of the same:
A world full of noise, of light, and of pain.

So, once more, I hunt for quiet in days,
lest I fall deeper and deeper in the vibrations of this world maze.

The Hunt

As it danced before him, he wondered.
He sat there, waiting for it to bend.
He knew it would return, and when it did...
The scenario would come to the end.

He watched as the tongues twisted
in their bright and unusual ways.
He knew, just like before,
that his waiting could take days.

He fed it some more of what he found,
when he went hunting in the woodland that day,
and took focus of how it reacted,
for this was the the last of his pay.

The tongues ate at it quickly,
not caring to thank the old man,
for it knew of his insanity,
and knew that he had a plan.

So, the tongues feinted defeat,
and gave to him what he desired.
And the man, blinded by beauty,
lunged into his own pyre.

And then I realized

It's not for the story, for most of them are lame.

It's not for the newness, for they all look the same.

It's not for the beauty, for there is better on this earth.

It's not for the fair price, for much gold is what they're worth.

It's not for the gimmickry, for such nonsense soon wears thin.

It's not for the winning, for each score feels hollow within.

It's not for collecting rarities, for for they're not real, nor will they be.

It's not for ingenuity, for everything's planned, you see.

It's not to calm down with, for every loss just makes you rage.

It's not for open worlds, for you are just sealed in a cage.

It's not for enjoying with friends, for every match starts a war,

and it's not for education, for that's just not what they're for.

With all these reasons often not striking true,

it does leave me wondering what they're suppose to do.

Other for the obvious reason of someone getting paid,

why in the world were video games invented, designed, and made?

And then, it was gone.

Little bird, as you look from above,
what do you find that you can love?
Life is a burden, for old to raise new,
and why? Well, just to continue.
You don't contemplate love, or any of that.
Your life really sucks, and you may one day be a hat.
So, it really confuses me, and I can't understand why,
when you jump to your death, you do it to fly...

Love is a jerk, or a god. Maybe both.

Oh, heart,
why are you such a jerk?

You love and break so easily,
falling for one, then more,
wanting it all, knowing all the while it will never work,
crying at the inevitable goodbye,
making my stomach a black ball of emotion,
and my mind a mess of over thought thoughts.

You are greedy,
and will hate as you see something beautiful come and go,
when life is bliss for others,
you drag me through the swamps of misery.
Just the feeling of wanting to feel,
it betrays my ways, when things were good, pure.

Oh, heart,
why are you so...

Heartless?

Laughing in the face of sadness

The voices came back,
bringing their hateful words,
their I-told-you-so's...

Some tried to be nice,
to understand that it hurt,
but harshness was loud.

They repeated words,
reminding me of before,
when they were so right.

They whisper their points,
until the rain came to me,
and then there was calm.

I look up to see,
my glasses filled of drops.
Fate laughs at me.

I stare and laugh back.
Rain is better than a sun.
Fate does not know me.

Voices shut up for once.
In the end, we never know:
who is in control?

I walk down my path,
knowing, that in the ending,
the path will be kept.

A see you later, not a goodbye.

So, this is where it led, my friends.
This path we took has different ends,
and now we go our separate ways,
and hope to meet in coming days.

And while this hope may be a lie,
I hope this time that we can deny
the truths of the past, that there is no chance
to meet again, but only to glance.

While we may not see each other is true,
that's only because there are things to do
that cannot be set aside to talk
about this great new route we walk.

So to learn about what transpires
and to know what happened to desires,
we will turn to other tools
that weren't made for a time of fools.

We will meet again, mes amis,
when we rid ourselves of debris
and meet again where our roads collide
somewhere, on another ride.

Old man's new day

Hell is coming, hating myself,
seeing my hurt, scoring my health,
wanting my soul, willing to cheat,
trying to live, to make ends meet.
I am too close, and cannot fight,
still I will stay, smooth through the night.

Me

Where did I go?
Where will I be?
Once you get past some things,
you start to see

that you are not you.
That you play a role
that plays what you are used to
before you started to stroll.

I am no longer me.
I cannot be myself.
I just say that I am
for the sake of my health,

even though it is false.
It really hurts me more
when I play at this play
that I did not see before

and just let it by,
let my real voice die down
in that little world I created,
inside that dying town.

You are there for a reason,
but you should be out here!
But I cannot find you, for
your location is not clear...

You were put away deep,
as to not become of them.
Those little voices in here
that constantly pull at the hem

of my mind, of my thoughts,
of everything that is mine.
I hid you so deep so that
you would be fine

and not corrupt from these voices
that fill my mind with vile
and freakish ideas that
tend to defile

the innocence of youth,
that was saved in you.
So now that I'm safe,
there is one thing to do.

I must search for me now,
so that everything will return
to the nice and creative thoughts
that I have missed, and will learn.

I will never give in to
giving you away.
I will find, you I promise,
I will find you one day...

Shadow

I hide my cowardice
for now, for you,
for you are doing things
no coward could do.

You are entering life
where cowards are shot.
So I will leave you for
the moment, so you are not.

I use the word coward
in the worse of ways.
But you are no coward,
you're just shy on some days.

You know what danger is
and to leave it alone.
You were shy around people
who had a threatening tone.

You could see the darkness
that surrounded a man
or woman, and when you
saw their aura, you ran

away, because Devil
was always tempting, always near,
and Angel was having
her own issues, I fear.

But even beyond that,
Cemix scared you worse.
He was to be the
perfect you, and a curse

that will haunt you
later in this life
as he's still angry at you
and is still sharp as a knife.

But you no longer fear
him, this I know,
and I hope I'm still around
to watch that fighting and show

that you no longer have to
make a mess from the dark.
You are in this crowd now,
much harder to mark.

You will do what you wanted to,
from that time and place,
and in the end
you can run at your own pace.

Have fun in your one
last chaotic play.
You have more parts
for it every day.

We voices will fill them
and let you do what you do.
But until then, my good friend,
I bid you adieu.

Society makes me rage

Don't think about far ahead,
don't worry about love in bed,
don't bother with what is read,
just let everything inside your head!

People smile and laugh life away,
people expect a free road today,
people will live day by day,
just to know no other way!

Bodies are scarred by young mistakes,
bodies burdened by all the breaks,
bodies are molded until they are fakes,
just until the soul aches!

you know what
                                                       screw the pattern
                                                 it is never needed
                               i won't follow,
                                                                                 nor will i lead
                                           others can live their own lives
                     screw the form
                                                            it controls nothing
                             but how the end will happen
                                                            so i refuse
                                  with everything i have
                       to listen to society
                                                             im not the only one
                                   and neither are you

So to those who follow each other down your empty road,
so those who don't bother to look at their load,
so those who put money before education for a better tomorrow,
just make sure you don't drag the rest of us down with you.

EXIT

Are you really there?
Are you really you?
Just because you say you are
doesn't make it true.

Maybe from our perspective,
you are just what you say,
but I'm feeling poetic right now,
so you'll be different today.

The capital letters above you
are means to make it truth,
but they are posted everywhere,
in case the building goes poof.

And once you have exited,
are you really out?
Or was the whole trick
just to get you about?

I guess there is no way to know
if its meaning has been twirled,
so I will keep on exiting
until I leave this world.

Our lives, as it is...

*Warning! Some Mature Content!*

*...I'm Serious...*


Filled with lust, feelings and hate.
No real love, no need to wait.
Just stick it in, one hole, or another,
doing things that would shame your mother.


Just strip em down, throw em in,
he is great, she is thin.
Disposable toys are all we care about.
We want a quick in, and never want out.


The problem (and not just what is in plain site)
is that we want in with everyone, all without a fight!
We want change! We want difference! We want everyone we see!
We want instant gratification! We want the freedom to be!


Now here's a quick story. It's all about me.
It may seem like bragging, but it's honest, truly.
At one point of my life, to be blunt, I was pure.
Didn't know what sex meant, or other "enjoyment", for sure.


Three years, that's all it took, to darken my heart,
just through friends, through the net, and other things apart.
All my mind says to do things, before all this time,
but before these introductions, I would have been fine.


Now my imagination is against me when imagining the earth.
I used to see it pure and clean, something nature gives birth.
That was then. Know what I see now? Women and men nude,
making love without love, and with careless attitude.


I now have  lust, I do have feelings, and fuck is what I hate.
This world is a dead one, and one I do berate.
You've already screwed me over, people who think it's swell.
You, just as much as I, are all going to hell.


If this poem offends you, well, that's all well and good.
If you have some pure, kind part in you, it should!
I would love to see a natural world, one without great force.
But first we need to change our reasons for intercourse!

Savour the moment

In this embrace,
there is happiness.

Our hands curl around each other,
tight enough to hold, but not discomfort.

Hair rubbing against my cheek,
pinned there by another's warm skin.

Calm breaths felt by my hands,
as they are pushed, and then brought back.

Eyes meet the other's,
with happiness shining through.

I smile, and it is reflected,
and we just let time pass

In each other's embrace.

Words I speak in rage

Why don't you....

SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

You are in the state that is safe!

You know not my misery!

And yet, like the fool you are,

you say things with nothing to back the words,

and as such, would normally blow away,

tossed in the wind, but nay,

for you have power, you have authority,

you have a head of steel, with nothing within,

but damn, you can bash your way through

the arguments I produce!

You just stare at me, knowing full well,

that in the end, you are right, or I am poor,

for you have such threats that you can toss

into the ring of our feud, without a thought,

and I, who would have no defense but to leave,

would have to surrender, for you would

haunt me with such threats over the coming days,

and would even let them stare through the window as I sleep,

only to know that it could come at any time, and that

I should be ready to find new ways in life.

But I shall not take such roads of cowardice!

I shall stay by my words, for they have more a

back then you shall ever have! You sweat in your

false fears, knowing not that I have suffered as much,

nay, more than you will ever! You have created such

a horrible land for a lad to grow into his life,

and for that, one day you shall suffer!

Till such a sweet day come, I shall plot behind you,

I shall make every move that cannot be seen, while

pretending to follow such hollow words.

You shall never see the knife in your back,

nor will you ever suffer what I have, in less than two decades!

But I laugh at you, for I will be sturdier than you ever will,

for you tried to break me! Take comfort in that you shall

cause your own fall, and that I will have the last laugh,

as I stare down at your corpse.

Devil

Hey, Buddy! You remember me.

I'm in your head, and clear for you to see!

Remember when I told you not to join that girl cuz she'll suck?

Well, you have time to change, but don't press your luck.

You really should have just dumped that chick.

In the end, you'll get the short end of the stick.

You'll get bad habits stuck in your head,

and in the end, you'll wish you were dead.

Face it buddy, you'll be stuck on a chain!

Even the days that your girl makes rain.

And every time you have a wandering eye,

that little prick will yell at you to the sky!

You should have stayed the loner, and traveller by trade,

but now, you are stuck in this little parade.

You could have been a one-night stander, someone that could do as he felt!

But now, you'll be whipped, and whipped hard till you welt.

Oh, and just pointing the obvious, because obviously you can't see,

What you do to yourself is what you do to me!

I don't want to hug, I don't want to touch!

(Unless it's in bed, thank you very much)

So back away now, while you still stand.

You can see in others that you are on demand!

And yet I know that you will ignore me, because of a slip.

So what if those last people betrayed your friendship?

Sure, they were a bad crowd, but then again, so were you.

And while you were not the worst animal in the zoo,

you fit in with them, just sliding along,

singing your heart out for such a bad song.

You choked a kid, you spread confusion,

and all the while giving off the illusion,

that you were a nice kid, that it was not your fault,

when you fought a battle after enduring assault.

You caused your troubles, you started that fight,

after going and destroying all their work at night!

Sure, the idea was mine, but the actions were you,

with stealing, breaking, even tripping with the lace of a shoe!

So, sure hang with the girl, see what shes got,

see if she is the one that you sought.

But don't be surprised, when you look a different way,

your own heart will cry because of her dismay.

But you know deep down, that you really don't care.

You've manipulated worse scenarios with what's under your hair.

You thrive in the chaos, you love the side play,

although you deny it all everyday.

Beat around the word

There is a word-that will be said.
Or perhaps-in this age, read.
It drives me crazy-inside my head.
It's the thing that-makes me feel led.

I don't think-it's a thing to hate,
but it is-a dangerous bait.
When it's right-it could be great,
but if it's wrong-if it's too late...

If it's done-with too much zeal,
or made to be-too big a deal,
then the problem-becomes too real
and then I will need-time to heal.

This is a lot-to think about to begin
but as always, I struggle-somewhere within.
I know that both of us-seem to be akin
and in the end-we will somehow win.

So until then-I will watch what's said.
I will be wary-for what is read.
It will live for a while-in my head,
but for now I will hold on-and just be led.

Calm, for once...

Nothing.

There is quiet.

There is happiness.

There is emptiness.

Not a word spoken.

Not a sound outside.

Not a thing running.

Just... peace.

It will break.

People will return.

Children will scream.

Things will break.

I will keep this moment.

I will remember it.

I will protect it.

It will help me.

When days are bleak,

when storms rage,

when the darkness overcomes,

I will remember...

Mind War

One side says love.
Another says hate.
A third wants to be alone.
The fourth, says wait.

"Just hug her!" a new one says,
"Just give it a shot!"
And the guy just rages
and starts to get hot.

I want them to stop,
to just shut up!
The mind's water is brimming,
starting to fall from the cup.

This would make a good poem,
a part in me laughs.
The burning one threatens
to break her in half.

They all argue, all debate,
they beat at each other.
From here it resembles
fighting sisters, and brother.

So here I sit, in my mind,
trying to decide who is right.
Until then, I will sit,
and think deep into the night...

Logic dosn't work out of class...

Understanding, just by using one's knowledge
for another question, has opened a wide
and lustrous hole to make judgment with.

I see one thing, hear other, and use
it to know what is right, what has merit,
and what has lies with no truth behind.

But that is only used on others.

What happens when I use it on myself?

A mess of a person,, fearing all, and
yet, still sees another, still wants to
embrace, to hold, without fear.

What have I become? One who wants,
but will push it away if I received it,
for fear of what? Burning? Betrayal?

Then why would I ever want one close?

Where is the logic in it all?

I don't know, I simply... don't know....

The black mirror

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
you don't reflect any of me at all!
You show me what I really desire,
say things about things that transpire,
make me cry, make me laugh
about kids in a bubble bath,
show destroyed lives for fun,
even talk about what you've really done.
You show people showing off
at sports, games, or in linen cloth.
You show me hell on earth each day,
and yet I cannot look away.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
do you reflect me after all?

What I am

I am a green porcupine, a leaf blowing in the wind,
causing chaos without meaning,
I am a crooked song, melting ice cream,
that bike on the street that irritates everyone,
a crescent moon, being awkward and shy.
I am the opposite and the same of what I fear,
and yet fear for the fear itself.

Manifesto 2011

A passion, an interest,
whatever is on your mind.
Soothing, or disturbing.
Things that come from the past mind.

Emotions, positions,
love and despair.
Feelings, ambitions, and
running a hand through one's hair.

What you see, what you hear,
and most importantly you.
It may sound Dr. Seuss-ish,
but without you, it ain't true.

Write whatever you wish to say,
no matter what others thinks.
People will learn to deal with it.
After all, it's your ink.

Write your life, bit by bit,
the insanity and all.
It's all an excuse, really,
to keep you away from the fall.

TV of Today

Reality TV has become a great form of ad.
Cakes and stores have risen to new ground.
I personally think that those shows are a really long fad.
But still watch them when they come 'round.

Cake Boss has shown many new tools
that I would like to try next I bake.
Ace of Cakes (I think) is a true waste, though,
because such cakes tend to flake.

They are both in the limited list
that I rarely watch to see,
for I would rather pound my fist
against walls than watch most TV.

What can I say?
I was raised a different way,
so I will waste time on the computer instead today.