Shattering into a million glimmering shards,
the vase seemingly imploded just left of her head.
Yet, preceding the vase, the front window
performed a remarkably similar routine.
And yet before both of these events,
a crisp crack’s echo bounced around the streets.
Of course, all the above described events
occurred in such a quick procession,
they appeared nearly to be simultaneous.
It was the combination of the three that
produced such a shocking scare in the heart
of an elderly lady, snoozing in the recliner.
Suddenly, overwhelmed with surging adrenaline,
her heart violently seized up and struggled
vehemently to maintain its well practiced music.
Out in the yard, jaw hanging askew, eyes wide,
a young boy drops his small aluminum bat.
Knowing he was in the near absolute deepest
trouble fathomable, his heart was also flooded.
It being young and strong, this heart handled
the onslaught of adrenaline quite well.
Then, the boy notices through the open door,
the absence of his grandmother’s favorite vase.
At the exact same moment both hearts stop.
Unfortunately, for everyone held dearly within it,
only the boy’s again begins to pound out its beat.
I speak my mind.
Don't like it?
Too bad.
I bear you my soul.
Don't like it?
Too bad.
I believe that all beings and
life forms are all the same,
and different,
at the same time,
and that we are slowly losing
our connection to this concept
as a species, and it is destroying us.
Don't like it?
Too bad.
I believe there is a sanctity
that lies within each individual,
every animal,
every life form.
Don't like it?
Too bad.
Don't like my
style of self-expression?
My authenticity?
My 'attitude'?
My disgust with closed-minded people?
My honesty?
My truth?
It's just plain too bad.
I love yours, and I hope
one day we can meet halfway.
4:20 PM 6/28/2013
©
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zIW8qDPhos
.........
All I hear is hammers, nails
Strings from such an interface
Construction of the doorway
As I tear apart my transport.
And all I feel is anger
Directed to my core
At my rampant lacking
And at my loss of sight.
A wall of shining, cleansing white
That gathers dust to my left
Sans reflection, but it watches
While I steal a frequency.
And to this screen I speak,
Of all these senseless woes
While I'm losing money
Going sort of numb.
The pains of being pure of mind
Have faded since I've turned so sour
All good is gone, I devour
The dark that tends to cloud.
Fortune's glitter, passion's stain
The evening windows of a passing train
The feel of travel, the love of life
Things that I can't understand.
But now there is anger,
And lust for the fight
Not much else,
Not much to say.
So I try to purge,
In such ways I used to
And it isn't working,
And I'm not surprised.