Chaos and His Friends

My blood boils at your insecurity-
My mind is blown at your urgency
I laugh at the lack of your sincerity,
But I am confused in your rivalry
I'm out of emotions- you tire me.
I hate the way your mold to society,
You're not your own, you're theirs entirely
You stumble so constantly-
Because you walk so blindingly
Mis-communication , or your just don't want to talk to me?
Spoiled, because you live so possessively.
Controlling, you try to be so collectively.
Chaos- it's your necessity
Ignorant-- at least you've got to be
You're desires are overpowering
You're grip- please un-clench from me
I've got to get out- it's an emergency.

Sweet Yellow Daffodils

Sometimes I lay awake at night and wonder. It seems to me, normality is defined strictly through the eyes that observe. What really is normal? I like to think that maybe I am the normal one, and this world is confused. I am a set of free wings, flying in a dense, outlandish atmosphere. Some people believe that our society is created by the media, by the ones with the power-but power is only obtained by those who have listeners. If no ears are turned to hear the numb words, than what harm can be done?

I often think that I think too much. I see this way of living to be normal.  I believe that people are too moral. They let their morals override their intentions. By having an overly-moral life style- you lead yourself into a pool of close-mindedness. To be close-minded is to be stupid. He who sees all views from all angles is the most esteemed. To be open-minded is to be enlightened. To look- and to actually see. Seeing is not always believing- but at least you are not blind. Henry David Thoreau once said, "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."

I am convinced that not only do I see more deeply- but I see beyond what there is to look at. I do not consider myself great- but I consider myself ready. I am ready to open my eyes- I am ready to understand.

I tread water- not to avoid sinking- but to make my legs stronger. This way- my muscles can carry me to swim in other oceans- larger depths.

I long to learn. I long to be anything other than what I see all around me. I walk down these roads and stare int empty faces. Empty words always being spoken- juvenile situations always brought up. I walk along and smell a rose-to me, each individual petal is more beautiful than the last. They walk along and smell a rose- to them, it is no different than any other rose- any other day.

They have shut down their minds. When they don't hear what they want to hear- they are turned off.  Their minds are dictated by the demanding morals forced upon them. They listen but they don't hear- touch but they don't feel.

They take beautiful things and devalue them. They limit themselves because they don't grasp opportunities. Morality can be too bad.

How divine it is- to be anything. How honoring it can be to be a part of something bigger than myself. I walk over the footsteps of my fathers. What has been shown to me that I know not already? Believe me you, I have no limitations. I have  no road blocks or obstacles because I do not travel by the road. That same, old, beaten down path. I will not conform to these people. Forever I will walk in my own direction. I don't believe I am normal- but, what really is normal?

Cold Feet

Sit tight-just stay.
I'm coming right back.
Sit by the window-
But don't wait for me.
Every car that passes by
Is every time I think of you.
Put some socks on,
your feet might get cold.
Hug me now,
Because one day you'll shake my hand.
Get to bed-
Don't over sleep.
I don't want you to wake up when it's too late.
I'm coming right back-
But make sure you don't wait for me.
Make sure she's a nice girl
Make sure you raise them right
Remember what I tell you.
Sit tight- just stay.

Clumsy Me

Cold stone.
I keep stumping my toe
I've always been clumsy,
But this stone is so cold.
I retrogress
Into a time lapse I fall
I step forward with my heavy eyes
I am deemed in the darkness
I am claimed to be,
But fail to rise.
Don't look at me-
I am shameful.
I keep hitting this cold stone,
I keep stumping my toe.
But maybe,
It's not my clumsiness at all,
Maybe I just can't see.

Those Eyes

Stop looking at me with those eyes
Those beautiful, deep eyes
I get lost
You know better than to look at me
I find myself venturing deep
Making it harder to find my way out
Your eyes.
They say everything about you,
Just enough to draw me in
Just enough to make me stay
Stop looking at me with those eyes
Those beautiful, deep eyes
I never want to leave.

What Will Your Verse Be?

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are we we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless...of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here- that life exists, and identity; that he powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"


[Dead Poets Society]

Right at Home

Even when I try to forget you,
I can't.
Your looks are insisting.
But your thoughts are quiet.
My chest is torn open,
You invited yourself in.
I'd tell you to wipe your feet,
But I know you'll leave prints anyway.
Out of your lips a whisper falls,
It is caught by my eager ears.
You're quick to say
But slow to act
Soon I will exile my emotions
I'll send them off
Where they cannot be harmed.
Against you, I have to keep them armed.

Hear Me

I float.
I wonder and dream,
Meander and think
I think that thinking too much
Is worse than not thinking at all.
Could it be,
That through all of this, I was wrong?
Did my morals trump my stance?
Did my efforts override my purpose?
Did I try so hard, just to fail?
I don't know if you saw,
But I tried
I tried to tell you,
But your ears were taped shut in obstinacy
Listen for a moment, please
Or if I don't speak,
Maybe then you'll hear me.

Butter

I hate to impose,
But I feel we've met before.
I'm not sure why,
But I'm sure I know you
Your words are like butter,
Spreading a perfect coat over my heart
A warm glaze;
A familiar taste
Your face is a solid character
One that I wish to know better
I'm not one for late nights,
But with  you I will.
I thought I knew how to read,
But I can't turn your pages.
Just come on back
And I'll try again tomorrow

I Am The Beholder

Just leave me here, it's alright.
My warm tears will thaw out my cold cheeks. 
I'm not crying because I'm sad,
Or because I miss you.
I'm just crying over what I've turned into.
Just leave me here, i'll be fine.
I just need some time to think, to gather.
I'm just regretful, confused and misunderstood
But I wouldn't go back, even if I could.
This whole thing was so divinely placed
The looks, the words, the stares
I said things I didn't mean, 
And strangely, I'm the only one who cares.
They've moved on,
They've left me to rot in my self pity
I guess they were right,
Words cut deep,
But the burden lies only on me.