thought

Thoughtless Freedom

It is a wide belief that knowledge is power,

Knowledge is freedom,

Only an idiot ignorant to thought might think himself free,

Looking above we deem it a cage,

A waste of human worth and price it so,

Therefore,

He without education or passion,

Unworthy of our riches in society is he,

Even still we see this fool take a claim in society,

Does this system we created mean flaw?

Who is the keeper of worth.

It is he


He is me

Cosmopolite

 

 

 

 

                                          The corridoor was noisy,like any other day. I had company ,and I was mad and we, were walking hand in hand.Someone was passing.

I felt me lips arching into a smile.

                   "do you really have to smile at strangers?" ,my friend asking me the first question for that day.

                     "what?!WE ARE ALL SHARING THE SAME BREATH "

The time stood still for a second,our eyes hooked in each other's ,my eyes enjoying her eyes tasting a new light,and her's falling in love with the ones she was looking into.  

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tags:

a poet need

I thought of

what skills

I need

to be a good poet?

Is it truth, or words?

Which one shall I breed?

All that matters

is that I’m trying,

to make

your blind eyes read.

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Pen A Tin Cherry

Have you slipped a cog? 

Do your gears grind? 
Are you not right?
Are you not firing on all cylinders?
Has your Goat been Gotten?
  Was the Sacrificial Lamb of Imagination
on sale for 50 cents a pound that day?
  Was Clarity of Mind picked clean
by the time you reached the rummage
sale of Purpose?
  Has your Train of Thought de-railed
and went over the edge 
hitting every branch of Broken Reason 
on the way down,
only to sink to the Ocean Floor of
un-productivity?
  Did you then make every attempt 
to rebuild that train
with the rusty tools of Mediocrity, 
only to realize what you re-assembled was
the equivalent of stanzas of Mechanical Gibberish?
  Have you stubbed brain-toe
on the wooden leg of the chair of Profound Vision, 
only to visualize foot-in-mouth does not taste 
anywhere as bad as it sounds?
  Have you ever been diagnosed with 
Incontinence of the Mind, which is only any fun
if you've already been diagnosed with 
Diarrhea  of the Mouth? 
Have you been caught forging Checks
of Inspiration and found guilty 
in the Court of Flaw, and sentenced to 
serve time in the Penitentiary  of 
Useless Contemplation? 
Locked away
Bars barricading a 
bleak ramshackle brain.
Prisoner of mind.
Starving.Delerious.Naked.
  and then you hear the sound of a shofar 
A grand vision.
The city limits,
on the cellular level; 
an anthill.
Abandoning the colony 
for a crumb.
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Crawling

You're still lost within the time
The ultimate crime
That you couldn't really hurt
but now you're gone and just inert

You try to find meaning in the days
That it wasn't just a phase
That you could just lay in the sun
and never say you jumped the gun

and you lie wide awake at night
Hard at thought, ready to write
You wrote on a piece of paper "I think this time, I'll be okay"
But you don't really know, your thoughts never stay






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The Waves

The waves... so calm...
 
The rocks below, black and jagged. I readjust myself out of discomfort, the last few years finally taking their toll on my untenable shoulders.
 
The ominous clouds above crack their whips in uncontrolled multitudes. They rain down their fury in sheets, steadily drowning the world around me. 
 
The clang and banter of rain against the grounded ships surrounding me quickly became deafening, my thought overrun by their insistent knocking at my minds door.
 
The ropes above me swayed violently in the wind, their movements random and inconsistent, like those of a ship lacking a sail, a man lacking sense.
 
Everything in chaos. Everything overwhelming. Everything out of my control. But in the midst of it all, I looked out into the bay, I looked out at the waves...
 
so calm...
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the evolution of thought

 

 

¤¤¤¤

 

information comes in,
information goes out,
bits and pieces of thoughts 
caressing queries and doubts,
minding my business,
and wasting my time,
life is my muse about

how where and whys,
halfway to the bottom,
but close to the top,
if i figure this out,

may as well close up shop!!

 

¤¤¤¤¤

 

~

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What is Okay?

Tell me, is it ever really "Okay?"

At times I wish I could disappear, away from the day.

 

Tell me, was it really all a mystery?

Or was I really something plagued by history?

Judge me, try to reason my scars,

Yet, were you there for  my unreasonable wars?

 

Did you ever set foot in my shoes?

Taken account of what brings the blues?

 

Tell me, does it really matter?

If I was any more the sadder?

Perhaps it's just my business, only my trouble.

Not another place to intrude into my bubble.

I'll solve my self alone, and myself alone only

Not for you to break my silence, maybe tonight, I'd just like to be lonely.

 

Blame my shortcomings for my scars if you dare.

For me, it just occurred, the past isn't something I ever chose to wear.

It's true and you know it

 

If it hurts hold it firmly

If soothes strike it harder

because you prefer polar opposites.

And that which is truly good,

you consider consequently bad.

 

Sappy songs of retreat.

Wavey tunes of calvary choirs

is the state of your mental perception, 

and your voice.

Deception is inverterately its mark.

 

Paused to ask for questions,

the ones you thought you'd answered.

 

Delibrately in the condition of pity.

It was wickedness in youth,

a worse offender.

Who founded and caused,

degeneracey in its inception,

degradation was its conclusion.

Now you seek theJudgment you despised!

 

Should purple be a moulds colour?

It might have been dinner for you.

Or perhaps your blue berry muffin sub.

Unwittingly or not, eating the end.

When malady sets in, 

capitulation closely following.

And in impotence of unending sleep, 

you and your folly stay unremebered

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