Tanget Lines 2

An empty canvas of thoughts comes to mind. Sooner than latter and by chance I will find; what it is I am looking for, what is it I am looking for. At some point I think I had it then lost it. Yet now that I think it about, I lost myself; between here and… damn it could be anywhere. These broken brittle bones can’t wait to turn to dust, still so much left to do and my soul has be sucked away from anything that meant something to me. Like the book of JOB left with nothing but faith, taunted by the devil in my sleep, she just can not seem to leave me be. It just might be me, as I might have incarcerated myself because of my determination. My inspiration was always inside me, anything else was nothing more than a tease. For love never said hello to me, just a little infatuation that went too far. Egos collided and pushed me away from that one thing I can not seem to remember.

Release

Sleep seems to slip away
As I wrestle with demons at night
So my halo hangs to the right
I reenact the past, to keep the devil at bay
It seems it may take more than a fight
In flood the thoughts of yesterday

The problem might lie with in
When do I begin so much left to sieve
Define exactly what it means to forgive?
Seven to commit which is my sin
The lust sets in and I find a way to live
Just watch once as I misuse again

I feel I am losing, yet far from lost
And all I gained: the loss of innocence
I was just tired of sitting on the fence
Feigned sympathy leads to much exhaust
Given passion and fortitude yet no sense
Maybe this way my tears turn to frost

A Soldier’s Dairy

….It felt like a losing battle, but sense of loss does not seem to be able to retain itself within me. This is my perspective of reality that divides my ego in three, sometimes more than I like to admit, but I should never submit because it is my responsibility to deal with. I have walked back and forth on this, and I promised I would not give in to someone or something for pretend again. I feel this might be my Alamo, no matter what I do or no matter what I say, will not have an impact until it has passed…

…So I find my self in a losing battle and woke up in different place, my head on strait, but still far away. It was hard enough not to be let in, when were we ever friends. This is not me living through strife, this me standing up for what is right. The worst of me shall never be seen, it was taken all out of me. The best of me yet to be seen: displaced in the back of my head. Sheltered thoughts of you are entertained but never remain…

…Sitting to atone for sins that will never be mentioned, I burn alone. What is left..? A tattered soldier… watching the battle he fought… far enough to be out of reach. I sit and watch out of sight, for my battle is within. I pushed hard enough to make it certain what side I fight for, but I have seen treason knock on my door. I shall not stand down I will move on with my life with out having a single enemy in sight. The time has come to pay my penitence…

Self Recognition

I often brought upon my own hard times, and mostly blamed others, then somewhere in between dividing lines of loss and gain a memory remained that paved a new path, yet I try and refrain by not imposing set compromises and ultimatums to myself. I have restricted myself in life from too many things. It is hard to define, what I have been dealt let alone how I felt. And what is left inside but a stronger individual who can put the pieces back together. Humanity reminds me of a dog that can’t stop chasing its tail. A parallel truth behind it all is nothing more that what it may seem. One step at a time, there is no hurry to die. One breath at a time, life will take its toll; enjoy as much as it as possible. And one perspective at time, learn what you experience, but don’t get comfortable and never dwell in the past because it will never change the future. The future is determined by the choices we make now.

Veritas

With stability and sobriety I have stayed the course. In prayer and meditation I’ve created a safe –Haven. Enjoying family and love I have planted my own tree. Through the eyes stranger I saw deeper within me. One deserves better, with that in mind, I take life in stride. When lost or misplaced feelings of past begin to generate, yet I am the status queue - one’s time spent is there own constant. Feels like incarceration within myself just to be reincarnated, through experience, that which stokes my ego and allows me to exist to understand that pain is truth, and the truth will set you free from one’s self. As cliché as it may seem I have schemed my life back together displacing memories and giving them away. Pretending to wait, I concentrate and dig deep only to find a shell of a man that yearns to be filled once again, save that I have not forgotten the difference between love and hate nor will I stand for the inderefence of good people.

Lost and Found

It is hard enough to love with no claim; it has been so hard to remember her name. I have yet to find myself, yet often catch myself starring off into something that never was.

I started to write out my life to displace yesterday, though it has been a while since I have seen her face. It is confusing, finding the balance in the middle of something lost.

Tempted every day to feel her touch, at last ten full has come back and I will not. But I tear deep into myself only to realize that this is going to push me to do the things I have always wanted to do.

So I continue to abuse the feelings of her forget-me-nots, and isolate my love to pin point the pain, so that I may squeeze out any feelings from my vain for someone else to bare the shame of loving me absolutely.

The tone of voice she uses with me through speech or letter pierces me ever so with a gentle anguish that could leave any man insane. It has been seven months to the day but I still have nothing to say, let alone show.

Then again what is left is nothing more that what was kept, nothing save this, that the path to greatness lays deep within.

Illiterate spirit

Sitting in complete disbelief, full of discontent,
I was told by my mother and father,
That nothing is out of the realm of possibility.
Imagine if it disincarnated into despair,
Slipping away with the air.

It is the disturbing idea of,
How you treat me that disappears.
Found a sound that numbs the pain
Imagine what it will do to my brain
Moses had a staff to part the Red Sea,
Well I have the past to depart my insanity
Watch how three years of disappoint become undone.
It’s, locked up in my head, right there being fed
Something I can’t bare though the tears shed

I don’t worry about fear, not to be mislead
And get caught unaware in this sleepless state,
An unconscious debate within.
Much like dirt swept under the rug,
I have become yesterday’s problem.
Innocence was lost in a tattered relationship.
It turns my stomach inside-out to see you play with dignity
Don’t mess with my integrity, for that is blasphemy
Too give in too worldly things, it makes for and illiterate spirit

Loving Regret

The only way I can communicate
Is when I dictate my life in too lines
Always questioning everything I do
Never finding an answer to anything

For the past, present, and the dead
Watch my pen bleed ravenously
The thoughts that continuously
Keep seeping out of my head

I’ve exploited myself and others
With no means again and again
And I can not find an end
So I put my heart back on the shelf

I wonder if I am the cure or
Maybe I caused the disease
The situation has long endured
Now just let it rest in peace

I know I may complain
And sometimes ask why
But without any shame
Dreams will soon run dry

Without the chalked path of others
It takes away all the constant clutter
So I choose my own path to walk
Alone, and as far, and as hard

Shamless

If I had it all over to do again I would never left my heart out there. I had a second chance and I would never want a third. At times I don't know whether it is better to be replaced or just forgotten. It seems the to replace is the quick cure for a broken heart. But that will not happen on this end. You have to learn from the past not run from it; just put it behind you, and so I did. Shameless to me all I have now is a forgotten memory and name. O lord this what I have become. With the namesake involed the pentance is being paid as I feel it through out all my viens. Nothing more than a chapter to turn, let alone burn. So let the ashes of yesterday fall where they may. Then the sins of today will be washed away. All that is left is a tired broken old soul, and I don't care about this anymore.

Still the Same

where does one begin
to suffer the thought of

or to let something go
still one must know

despite all the pain do you still love me the same
despite all the gain do you still love me the same

almost two years ago
and i am still stuck

between two roads
one of them i chose

i was left in a individual
mode.

perplexed a bit vexed
it feels like god has given
me this hex of fortitude

despite who is to blame do you still love yourself the same
despite his name did you rememeber mine the same

wether you had been in a different state
you still can't seem to relate

over and over agian the idea is played
through my head not the healthiest choice

still it is nothing more than what she makes
of him; it is ok, i supose time will tell

despite all the pain i still love you the same
despite all the gain i still love you the same

people do change i supose some for
the better some for the worst

we all hold are own cards but i have already
shown mine

my life is an open book
with nothing to hide

i talk and spit this dialect into
the sunest putting aside my pride

you should come and join me
on the outised so we can look in

together

Deceitful Ways

The dividing line between truth and trust, lays in the middle of two roads, eventually I chose, shaping my own mold, I often walk the line of one and chalk the line of the other. Damn this corrupted pen for letting my feelings get the best of me again. I have to bite the bullet once more to make amends. Becareful to all who get sucked through the lips of seduction, when in the end it was just for pretend. And this is why 35,000 kids die every night. It is easy for people to give in, some already have let the trek begin, selfish needs, find your own, be a human being and don't hinder forth you loss of 3 years on me. A new found prophet, yes my dad was at best, A dead thought was me left by everyone, so I come to contest

The Forgotten Son

In my own adversity I seem to exist.
The only constant seems to march along.
I sit with my layers as would a schist.
Love, respect, and understanding are gone.

A child at birth destined for something worse.
In those days the memories often did offend.
I chose my path in life not to be immersed.
Chasing shadows of siblings till the bitter end.

I was told once blood is thicker than water.
The connection is so deep it is killing me.
It is all for not, if parents don’t even bother.
Four too many, three seems to be the need.

A Dream Within a Dream

As cynical as this may seem, I often see poets cutting the seams between poetry and the extreme.
As humans it’s difficult to express love through words so we go back to touch and at times it’s too much.
Projecting ideas and similes that have gone unchecked, they leak deep in mind dripping down my spine.
Let the soft-spoken wisdom of last night resonate, oft then not, it seldom seems to sink in until you dream.

It may be a semantic test even though it feels like a beat pumping more than blood inside of my chest.
The concaved debris of yesterday’s mistake still remains, it is almost like a still frame picture show of pain.
The difference between them and me is the same thing that determines what is to become of humanity.
At last it was only closed eyes to this thing we call reality, and as cynical as it may seem…
It was only a dream.

Love Not Lost

Conceive this, the voices that fled sound better off inside my head.
The idea that was derived eventually let up and died.
A melting pot at best the human heart left the soul to stress.

The undeceive thoughts that pour all you individual doubts.
Leaves a strain on mental anguish that provokes a different language.
Confused and feeling lost this lusting after love leaves us exhaust.

I have been there before my friend, trying to make friends with the devil again.
At some cost it’s not love that is lost, it is what gained through memory and pain.
So open up once more and let life guide you… if not then life will deny you.

Tangent Lines

Some one needs to dictate what I say, simply because, every time I talk people seem to look the other way. It gets old and frustrating dealing with the same new hypocritical notion from her, him, and them. Don’t they understand it was my poetic potion that I pulled from the ocean? It is the Pisces in me that tends to convert every little detail into some type of meaning.

Everyone quiet please. Let the professor speak. The tangents that come and go to help create this lyrical flow stands no chance to ring sense or bells in the trouble head of some one else. I like to sit on my rock and preach and hopefully something I teach will make this one person listen to me.

It is hard to comprehend the now and the then, when it is the same ol’ same ol’ over and over again. If it is not you then it must be me. Brad Lee how did you get off this reef? Did I mention my rock is just my thoughts? So I sit once again waiting and contemplating, hoping one day this charade that you play will wilt away like the winter roses in May.

I never give up I keep on keeping on. At same time I keep things within. It bottles up and explodes in the end. If I spoke of what was really in my head I would probably being lying in a ditch half way dead. We all have vices in life, but mine is I cant seem to get anything right. Whether it a simple letter or call back it seems to just stack up. I try as hard as I can to be that man, but the lord knows I am only one soul. Far from perfect and apparently in the wrong… it is times like this I appreciate my mom, because she tried her best to raise a good son.

Constructive Changes

It has been brought to his divided attention
Constructive changes penetrate this tension
It was insisted upon her history of indecision
Leading to certain feelings left in suspension

And love will always remain as the motif
It could fall any time like a worm on a leaf
So he put his all out on the line waiting for the thief
The hopeless romantic in him wants to sit in disbelief

But her heart belongs else where and it can’t be shared
Lost in more than translation it was often her affair
Untrusting her own intention while misplacing his care
A love triangle, yes, but his feelings are there to make a square

Para Ela

Como uma pedra
no topo da montanha

Como uma pedra
colocada no chão

Como uma pedra
fico só

Como uma pedra
sou sempre em casa

Como uma pedra
justo como mues poemas

Como uma pedra
é meu amor para ela

A Poet Sits

The poet will sit and contradict his own ability, as he tries to reconnect with his own morality. He is perched on the stone of distraught as he studies to recollect one of his thoughts. Honestly the poet admits that she was afraid to commit. So he submits into taking another hit for clarity. Building his vitality he notices the slit wrist of emotions which insist upon a kiss.

A poets sits to contemplate the past, wondering how long this pettiness will last. In trying to deny the truth we find the mind telling lies and the heart teaching the youth. And he knows we all have hidden tensions but hers is the cause of his lack of attention. She holds his heart like a child, while his comfort rest in her smile.

And the poet still sits wondering why love would make him nervous and push him to do stupid things on purpose. It was all in an instant and even though they live in the same city it always felt like long distance and every question he asked her is met with resistance as he offered his assistance. In her timeless existence he found what they had and there was nothing like it.

And so she sits with the poet...

This Declared

Understand this is rare, and it doesn’t bother me, as long as we share our feelings

To what degree do you dare to show me how much you really do care

Did you disagree to misplace it in the vast air, at least show me love is fair

The trust was already there, I was the one that got lost in your long Brazilian hair

It was inspiration that mended despair; this time around I was caught unaware

Frailty took a grasp of a plea since reality was far from given to me

I’ve been confused for several months about this love that turned abrupt

At Twenty-two, I have never felt this before, I finally found someone I adore

And the truth is I do love you, All I wanted was you.

Sedated For Repair

It is the procrastination of people in my independent state that brings on the hesitation of feelings to vacate, and it leads to a situation tha is making me break; broken down complication of relations is more than I can take.

I can't drink water that's already dried out. I've tried, it disappears and the smoke soon clears and I can finally hear a sound, musically, given to me, a prophecy, leading my democracy, the same as Socrates. You see this aristocratic hate state we live in today, yet I don't participate, it's worthless, like dreams without a purpose, which happens to be America's surplus.

Alone on my own, I keep singing on. Why did I put up with it for so long? Don'’t worry I'm gone. I was an innocent man with big plans. You were my America but now you're covered with tainted lands.

I am waiting perched above the ground, looking down at this God forsaken town. It is time to let go, you already know, just once again being told that individuality brings out the soul, and spirituality will grow old if equality stays cold, making reality remain a show.

It is true this place a dump, so what, my aunt died a drunk, I am still a punk. And like a sinking ship, my dreams soon sunk. I gues I was too slow to realize all those hypocritical lies, at her own demise. To late now the devil came and laid waist, don’t bother pursuing the chase. She got away again, time to begin to fend. She is out of sight, out of mind still trying to wrong all the rights.

But there is not enough time, so live your life and keep up the fight, unlike me, just a link in the chain. Sorry, we are not all the same. No one is to blame this constant, it'’s like the rain. And I am left with eyes wide shut rolling around in a perpetuating rut, just a fool to conclude your own interlude. It's thee American dream you did it with ease, now leave me be.