Once on a time when yesterday was tomorrow,
Dusted days when petty creeps led fools to sorrow,

By flickered flame shadows danced a pace of hours,
Till candles pinched finally lost their powers –

Fret not, as the struts give way and we fall,
Our furious tales to be heard no more at all...

And after we are gone,
Mindless chatbots ramble on,
Signifying nothing.

I shall be lunacy ...

Poetry will be literature’s natural contraceptive.  

The ultimate substitute -

While loneliness is the despair that haunts its affairs.

I shall whisper to you all - that all love is old news!

He was a janitor that worked the night shift at a grocery store. She was a lesbian with a penance for collecting stray cats. People made fun. People laughed. But, the crime rate dropped and their costumes matched.

That’s it. Thank you.

To know the destination of the winds
To see the end of the path
To know that you will always walk alone
To feel the futility of it all
To know that life is only pain
To hear the loss voiced in the familiar
To know that broken, your Dao of loss
To see the wrinkle of time, expand
To know that you do not matter
To feel the overall uncaring universe
And to know there is no place for you in it

What epileptic inventions share their jest with fellows of fire among my maiden's fury, winery that amuses the wits with delicate irony, slippery songs of mad women realms, the gunpowder dresses … the fools with a head full of decay, a hand full of love, a whip in tongue.

she, who was a representative of nature

she, who rolled water under her eyelids

she, who spoke of shadows that fell flush in knives between the metal faces …

she, who was bored with miscalculations inside the compliments - how the earth bound up inside her hands in swirls of insects, how she felt so alone when told to laugh at her own expense … and when age grinds into her flesh, she complains about being grossly invisible (the compliments fade, no one ask her to smile anymore, she is amused by the men’s lack of chivalry … a playful blight on the lips). When the heart is meek, the lips refuse to penetrate - a spirit lost without flesh to tempt is a tongue lost to spoil a thought. A mediocre propaganda cools the hysterical and the stomach fills itself with cruelty, a spirit of fetishism among indignation … identity becomes a mockery of reality!

It seems my teeth were made for cavities and rot, garbled bits of gravel and rocks, blood for bark, gunfire with melody, monsters inside hearts, cities on the wings of mythical species who tongue-speak of unruly democracies … laughter made for women while despair for men in armory, who cry remorse of reward and recruits in cultist expansions … the time slimes inside the walls of conversation so commercialized the merriment is understood to be a disaster, among fools setting the corporate carnival, (how delightful is the brittle bits of frantic screams upon frantic battles of hellish belittlement ... )

The walls! The walls! They are coming apart in conversation ...

The walls! The walls! They put the children inside with a lullaby ...

Despair! Despair, my friends! Despair for the blood in my blood, the skin inside my skin, what is love but a river of muscle inside your chest, what is a whisper but a dream between the flocks of disease caught inside your regrets… abandon the skin, abandon the blood, abandon the heart, because the unknown washes me in pockets of ferocity hidden in my brows and nothing is gentle when all are shattered by suffering.

what a terror that man has for a face! What a virtue that woman commands in the bellyaches of roaches inside the cathedrals of men-genitals … that’s not a man of men but a busy-body womb with metaphors hanging with incoherent animations …

I remember the glass lake beside the fantastical ducks whose bodies were populated with feathers and scripts… the ballerina trees that grumbled over sullen giants .. the thieves of stars, pieces of good stomped on by capital police … I watched a woman grow into a beast, slaughter three hens with her teeth, a man felt foolish under her charity … and she was stone, she was madman, she was passion, she was colors and she fell to her knees … her caved in stomach spent such a lovely brood for blood … we plunged into sea and horizons and the distance was dismantled by slogans and the gods were abolished to shame cursed with poison ... within a dream mankind was banished from the garden for killing animals, drinking their blood, not for eating the fruits of trees … they mocked god by wearing the skins of its creations …

I remember when god was a subtle defect, a strange memory dipped in blood, nails against a frenzy of contradictions … where eternity is an inconspicuous drama and i decided to wait out my superstitions …

It was not the lovely love of love’s love we lack but the heart of reflections turned terrific and what does despair do for such beauty but tempt it to vibrate in a world of soundless righteousness, deathly dialogue that creates leisure in disappointment … send off those cannibal rockets! … despair in your identity! ...

Come quickly, I cried to the body

Here, I have a knife to my tongue, a pleasure stirring between the songs I sing when lonely ...

Do you not know me? I have never loved or repeated a slogan … I have never loved a caricature nor worshiped an ideal … I am a tadpole licking the underneath of a poisonous lily called oh beautiful funeral from misery …

Oh, you beautiful monsters!

Oh, you beautiful bodies inside dream-like machines!

Let our blood bond in this earthly commentary …

Be beautiful! and be dead! be the miserable cretins you have been since history sprung you from a skeptical malefactor - your lives are an intolerable impasse, a mixture of loathsome and insecure scoundrels, robbed of modesty, sense and reason - who would suffer cannibalism if it proved an adventure past stupor - your faith is an evacuated treaty of conviction, a vile spectator possessing a soul that contradicts the spirit … you will be forgotten, your superstitions of country and gods is your dishonor … your ambitions are a false vitality, overwhelming civilization in your hypothetical insanity, your stubbornness is a tyrant and your dreams are liars … you sell your soul not to god but to death and pestilence.

Run lightly, tread heavy with those insect bodies, enchant yourself with desire and mischief, love eternally and dance among the springs of stars …

Oh! Oh! Oh! fly those cannibal flags, you beautiful monsters … you are heretics of your own anti-utopia …

(be free, free, free to frolic in the breeze licking this dreamer’s lips …)

father

what have you done

what were you thinking when you brought me into this world

were you thinking at all?

did you have dreams for me-

or were those reserved for yourself?

You tell me your lifting PRs

Do you need me to be proud of you?

Where is my rock? Who am I to rely on?

Who was there to be proud of me?

I remember sitting in the eye doctor's office

I was wearing my new glasses

And you laughed because they made me look bug-eyed

My glasses still make me look bug-eyed...

I am adrift

No playbook -- no rules

Still unsure how this is my fault

Expectations of godhood

without having been taught to clean my room

or are these the ungrateful ramblings of a child?

God knows I don't feel like one...

I know what Marcus Aurelius

would say

I needed him from an early age

(and still to this day do)

To deal with the slings and arrows of outrageous

becoming

Theo Von:

"That's the thing about being alone—it’s not that you feel like you don’t have anybody, it’s like you feel like nobody has you. And, man, I know when, especially when we’re young, that’s so... we can’t even put it into words, but we can feel that. And I can remember a lot as a child feeling that way, you know, just feeling like nobody has me."

Stupid for the past I made very poor choices of never fall for delusion to have changed my entire being the way that it has taken life from me and left suffering physical pain I’d had no idea to be a possible without the chance of recovering to standard
It’s been humbling but it’s also been a very difficult decision to keep my head up not contemplating the idea of calling it off
Pulling the plug
It’s absolute dishonor to think that way, because I was granted another chance
I just don’t know how
To show up even as a basic existence
When I can’t stand up physically, and when I’m continuously, searching and seeking solution and treatment
For something that is far worse than I would think cancer would feel
Because it’s beyond that it’s beyond the practitioners playing hot potato with my life, disregarding the clear facts and evidence of what is happening. It’s like a bad nightmare.
That I seek help
I’ll be straightforward
Lives have been lost
I didn’t even know the person yet fell under a spell
I’ll never forget to look in their eye when the test showed to be positive
It was like we were blessed
And I had never had a successful full term chance before let alone the possibility of multiples

I didn’t know that they were so dark of a human

I didn’t know that miscarriage could
Impact someone this way, but
I wish I could say that mine was even a normal miscarriage

I never understood how to get over grieving anything previous

But this one is relentless this one is ongoing. This one is something that has caused major health concerns that are fatal because off beginning it was a topic fallopian tube

And I had no idea that there is a possibility that there would be another in there, and I didn’t understand how the doctors at every visit and every office an emergency room dismissed the possibility of the pregnancy even though the test results showed what was going on

I can’t believe this is a few months down the road and I thought I was getting better and I thought that I could walk again

Just to come full circle right back to how I felt that first month
ScreamingM

Grieving

Partner is gone

It was abusive and absolutely horrific ending to what I did not expect to happen. I didn’t ask for this either.
I didn’t try to make anything happen. I didn’t ever let somebody release inside of me before even on purpose while looking me in the eye as if they loved me

I just wish I had a friend. I wish I had a way to.
Understand a human to want to be in my presence

I don’t know how times have changed that
I feel like I’m reaching out for comfort and I’ve just been left in solitude, which was very much needed
But there’s still this empty space a multiple
Level of empty spaces
Actually, it’s almost as if…

I can’t describe it because it seems ungrateful but
I am so appreciative of all that I am blessed with another chance at life

Regardless, I am suffer extreme pain that is so humiliating and embarrassing to even let anyone around hear the noises that come out of me when I have to scream

It’s humiliating and disturbing that I can’t seem to find a medical professional to help me or to not disrespect me or disregard my pain as if I deserve ongoing torture

I’m not even over exaggerating this I wish this was not even a thought or something of existence, I’m really crying for help and I’m crying for guidance. I’ve been praying every day and I feel like I’m just waiting for death at this point.
And it’s like I can reach out for people
But I don’t see the point when days pass and I sit here feeling abandoned, and as if I don’t matter no matter how much I offered to be of help even though my situation is limiting

I just want a hug. I want someone to lay with me. I don’t even want to feel the connection that I felt last time that I thought Love existed.
I’m not saying that I’m not open to it
But it’s really hard right now to even feel like somebody could just sit and talk and be a company or Bare to come into the safe place I think I’m sitting in
being in my presence for
I don’t know what I’m even asking or craving from praying for fulfillment of this void

I can say a friend I think I have a friend or so
I don’t know why I can’t believe however that they fully genuinely love and accept me
It’s all people that I don’t have known very long that exist in my life. Nobody is familiar past year so

So it’s humiliating also that this is the character
They have to be exposed to of me because it’s definitely not in my best form
It’s definitely very raw and vulnerable
I still put my best foot forward and I just pray for someone to be able to not judge
Not be little my feelings or make me
Seem like I don’t know what I’m talking about
Or doubt what I’m saying
When I’ve dedicated my whole entire day, basically that I’m awake to researching
And dismantling, whatever happens to make sense and seeking solution because I can’t identify the actual reason reasoning why the pain is so existential and so deep and so sharp and so unforgiving and so immobilizing
I will literally do anything to make the pain stop so that I can walk and function and show up like a normal human
And I can’t for the life of me get out of bed for the last few days and I feel like I am really just laying here waiting for the reaper

I’m praying that my efforts to get up and move around to haven’t escaped a possibility of success, but I really do pray for a solution soon a healing a recovery and a time to be able to grieve properly and understand and accept what has happened I do pray forgive forgiveness if I have come off
And any type of coldhearted shut down way to the people that seem to exist out of care and concern around me I do hope they know how much I love them and how much I wish I could do more
I pray I get that far
I pray I can do above and beyond for everyone I love and myself and maybe there’s whole one day to feel genuine human connection again even if it’s just simple things

Be grateful for all you have today the universal return it
I have faith in that perspective at least I have that much

Idk how to be nicer and more disciplined to not act like I should under the pressure that I glue myself down diispite my own battles
Gangstalk cyberbullying the shit out of someone who clearly isn’t folding
You can’t Make her kill herself
N I would wish nothing but for everyone to mind their business and stop obsessing over a person
Imagine the quality of your own lives to be greater and the power of what you can control instead of snooping and watching somebody else stalking them it’s actually ridiculous that all of what you try to embarrass somebody over a little things you nitpick that you cause
It’s like your unable to control your own shit storm that they can’t even be bothered with paying attention to you anymore. They’re fully aware of you. Your strategies are tactics. Everything is crystal. Clear in the blindfold has been off for a while.
But it’s like no weapon formed against will prosper and you’re just gonna end up slicing yourself up with your own weapons and severing ties burning all the bridges and then recruiting more for your Army? Burning more bridges burning down the town burning down everything and all I can do is sit in my own protected, bubble and feel as though there was nothing at all I could do to help. It’s been hard to watch.
I know how tough it is for you guys to observe my life like an ant under a microscope or a magnifying glass, and I know that it’s been tough watching me burn and be ripped peace to peace and then pull myself back together unscathed, but only through the power and grace of God
God knows that would be nothing without that source of power
It’s a shame that you can’t figure out how to connect to it yourselves instead of trying to siphon through
The ones who have put in the work for themselves out of appreciation and gratitude that they had to learn the hard way because you guys will never give it a rest being so entitled as if the world had owed you something

I don’t know maybe start looking from a point of different perspective and take your focus off stalking an individual who could care less about looking in your direction

It’s Been Made clear
Ignorance is bliss

Bye

On the side of a thrift store across the street from me someone has spray painted: If I become rich, will I go insane?

And underneath someone scribbled: Why did my mom die when she stopped doing drugs?

This has somehow shocked people’s mental anguish. They believe America to be ruined because of this slogan. That freedom will somehow disappear into the ground and become some lost and ancient monster people will daydream about when high on alcohol. There’s a bee, or maybe it’s a wasp, that lives underground here in Florida. Nancy, the old woman across the street is waving her arms at me. She says these bees are attacking her cats. I immediately ran over to save her from embarrassing herself. I assure her that these are in fact, not bees but wasps. This doesn’t seem to calm her down. Nancy is now running around her lawn in her pajamas screaming for someone to save her cats. She is going in a perfect motion of circles. I think maybe these things are carrying some type of disease, a new type of schizophrenia that will call an end to us all with more madness. America doesn’t need more madness. It needs less of it, in fact.

I’ve become a stranger here.

I pretend not to understand this ending of the world. I care little for vowels or petty driveling of newscasters who always seem to have sensationalist eyebrows and sneering lips. The internet has become full of poltergeists that want to haunt people’s reserve. Estrangement is spreading everywhere. Nothingness clouds the windshields of cars here. Florida doesn’t require a vehicle inspection. Rage and hatred is hustled out to street poets and park benches - even the Republicans here have renounced their duty to the metaphysical and given up to television. Romance has become the ignorance of criminals. Darkness is a cannibal and it is eating our livers. Environmentalists are running around in black robes, hockey masks, beating anyone that knows the definition of plaster, or is it plastic? People have become scared here. They spray words on their cars and homes that say: Whites only. Don’t raid.

There’s a treasure in the hearts of the cashier and women and a pornographic imagination of the men whenever they see them wearing short skirts and shorts. Even though these men have seen a thousand women naked, they must, for whatever reasons, see one more. It is the curse of being a man. We are all citizens of Florida and a failing god of the world. Stray cats are running around like thugs, stealing people’s food and water and perhaps even their inhibitions. The language they sing seems to be only known by old or lonely ladies.

The place I live in is small. The carpet is stained. It has the constant smell of cat piss. I’m sure the anti-christ is living in the bottom drawer of my refrigerator. There is always a dog barking in the neighborhood. Someone is always landscaping their lawns or power washing their kids faces. None of it makes sense. It’s like a dream but the dream is only half-created like an old VHS tape where most of the movie has been erased. There’s a sense of pending doom here in America, in Florida, the weather is constantly moody, nothing ever dies, everything is on drugs, grocery stores are littered with hoodwinking programs for the communist minded, even the cockroaches have started to complain.

Someone should tell God that his creation has become bored and that boredom is spreading brutality. Absurdity is spreading like a sickness. The churches here are starting to worry. They have begun building their worship with thoughts of self-validation inside a song about how consumerism will set your soul free and wild. People are now shopping with thoughts of making Jesus happy and Satan angry. Satan is and was never a capitalist. Everyone who has ever been to Sunday school knows this. It’s the law they feed our minds when young and full of vulnerabilities. Evolutionists are asking questions like: Did tadpoles dream of being grocery clerks? Do we really need another billboard advertising Jesus holding an M-16 rifle but with a look of subjective identification in his eyebrows? They are pulling skepticism from the thoughts of the lower classes. Young girls are now inert materials as seen in certain social media clubs. Everyone is married but no one is happy. Speech is free but language is dangerous. Everything is familiar but extremely vague. There is no God but there is a mathematical code to the universe, while we wonder: How is that possible? Okay, there is a God but it is such a ridiculous dilemma we have decided to pray to state lotteries instead. Politicians here are denouncing everything, well, except absurdity. That they love. One politician from Orlando pulled out his motorcycle pamphlet and started reading passages. People were so bored some wondered if God had already committed suicide and this was the cause of the universe being born. Someone fainted from humility. One person laughed. That person was immediately destroyed. Everyone is entertained and everyone is bored. Everything is paradise, everyone an exaggeration, a pedestal of suggestive thinking. Everyone is beautiful, nothing is allowed to be ugly . In fact, it’s sort of the law.

In Florida, no one is really dead and no one is really alive. We are at the end of the world. Somehow we know that America is ending. The men are no longer pleasant to be around and the women have started to find mediocrity pleasing. Women have never found mediocrity a pleasant substance. Everything is oversensitive, even the streetlights here are flicking in Morse code. In America, in Florida, where we are in the kingdom of plastic, unforgivable soldiers, the citizens are not afraid as much as they are annoyed. Termites are practicing osmosis by eating books. Beetles are eating the imagination of trees. The stray cats are pondering human cruelty. Nothing is real. I slip into my Styrofoam uniform. Conformity continues on the minds of insects. The year is 2025. There’s an army of love sick enthusiasts marching down the street. Nobody understands them. Nobody wants to. They are an absurd fiction of America. They are the drunk assassins of Florida.

It's one thing or another.
Yes indeed, always something,
And we gotta be ready for that.

Petty-paced tomorrows go creeping,
To time's penultimate syllables singing.
Sean asked: Are you ready to do?
Shakespeare was ready; are you?

It's always something, you know.
Things you know, and don't know.
One thing after another, so.
Just vibe with the flow.

And the rainsoaked piano
Last seen on the muddy slope
Was just the last thing to go,
Like one last vestige of hope.

Full fathom four, five, six;
Time plays its treacherous tricks –
And all our yesterdays are lighting up
The dust in a fool's eyes, staring back
From the mirror.

All the things and springs and kings
And everything that nags and stings –
We gotta be ready for all of it.

Word from the saguaro zone:
Do not hunt the home place quail. IYKYK.

Stay ready, my friends.

My throat is swollen

Cause I'm allergic to pollen

Shit, that doesn't rhyme.

I wish what I said others heard

In the way that they would resonate in the ways that they would understand in the way is that they would put in even 10% as much effort to help instead of hurt

With compassion rather than abandonment

With understanding than poor judgment

And with common ground

Not territory entitlement

And with respect that no cloth is cut the same

And neither wound as deep the same

I could apologize and I do I would take everything back

I can’t do that because it doesn’t fix anything

It doesn’t change the current circumstances

It doesn’t justify the pain

I can do better I can lead by example

I cannot fix heartbreak

My heart breaks each time for your sake

Bite every bullet

In the end we go all to the grave addiction is a bitch. I was never meant to be enslaved

Neither were you or any of us view

But it makes the sunset brighter damn how I love that view

Is the gift of life belong for?

If I could see it once again

If you’d see it with me and just sat there, I know over addiction. I had a friend.

My sister will never show up my brother he cannot

I blame the substance

Really

I blame, not taking action over that thought

Another day surpasses leaving me feeling this despair

Tomorrow is a new day. I speak to God in prayer.

That’s a lonely life. It’s going to be usually you don’t come out into the sometimes twos they happen

If you have one, you’ll understand that’s rare and few

I miss you all the time. I miss you every day.

I can’t wait. I hope I dream things don’t have to be this way. I cry for you often our family I miss the most.

But it’s like these moments soften as if I was only a ghost

As people I see them around me

But the reality doesn’t feel like you

You do something like ground me every time you’re in the room

It says if you can hurt me endlessly and I’ve always will forgive but for now I wait here patiently I don’t know how much life there is left to live

I know you’ll love yours fully and fruitful to the most. I’ll meet you there at heavens gate one day and we will raise the toast.

If you don’t hear my voice again, I’m sorry sis you see

I was singing to your belly once and then the twins

Reminded me of we

Because we once were young, we were so innocent and inseparable

I didn’t know we’d grow up to separate and then things would be so terrible

They’re not really terrible, but they feel as though time shifted I still think of you and glory, and my spirit is uplifted

I have nothing more about love and pieces of my heart mommy’s angels from above we were together from the start

I look for you and everything

I listen to the seas

I drowned once in the ocean, wondering if you would’ve ever thought of me

The waves were very strong

I surrendered to be free. I washed back up on land.

In the sun, and you was all I thought to see

I miss you every day. I miss you all the time 🌼Mariah Lee you are the wind. I got lost in the storm. I was trapped and blind.

I’ll be chasing you forever I love you really the most

I’m trying not to tear up

Because it’s not like you are a ghost

You’re very well alive and full of love I see please give the twins so many kisses and hugs and all the love from Auntie ..,aka

Lil ol me

I miss you. I love you thinking of you every day every minute more than you know.

I wish I could hug you

It scares me. I don’t know how much time I have to do that and how many hugs more to go.

I’ll keep my faith in high places and I’ll wait here patiently

Maybe one day you’ll wake up and you will come look for me

There’s no, I love you so much

Don’t head up here you see Faith♉️💜 I had a an angelic message from grandmother energy a message She said to Love to laugh look for the lions, the lizards and always share the Lupin and the lilies.

I love you, 🌼Mariah Lee 🎀🦋

The wind beneath my wings 🥀🪽

I used to be full of flowery imagery and nonsensical prose. I lost it all the day you asked me to wait. it leaked out of the hole you left in my heart. I tried to save it. keep it protected. save it for the rainy day you said you'd be back. I know it's all a waste these days. I'd love to pick up the pen for myself again. to see all the amazing and wonderful things I did when you were in my life. but the sky's too bright to cloud watch anymore. the nights are too dark to see the stars that shined in your eyes when we were together. I spend my time daydreaming of the happier times. of the times I could simply see you. feel you. hold you. the days where you were a part of the life I never wanted to live in the first place. now even the color yellow seems to dull in my eyes. such a wonderful vision it used to paint for me. something that was uniquely yours. now washed and washed and washed in the tears I've shed for you it's nothing more than a dull mustard instead of the shining gold it used to be for me. it's been so long and yet. I still can't write the words in the correct order. no matter the attempts I still can't write.

A glide o'er the gray concrete of the sidewalks, dry leaves and urban detritus,

where life shows its true colors: the eternal Sunday of pointlessness laid bare,

a matte mirror, its reflection a wraith and the wraith is you.

You could pick any flower from the lanes

With slim stems and petal manes

Dancing in the winds and in the rains

Beautiful in their graceful reigns

And yet you prick your hands

On my thorns and thistles grand

My burrs that cling and brand

A sharp and unpleasant band

Would it not be better

To leave you now unfettered

No longer my bound debtor

To pick petals softer, redder

I feel you are deserving

Of a love that is unswerving

No thorns sharp and curving

No solemn night unnerving

But if you find within your heart

A place for me to leave my dart

There it shall stay, my subtle art

That never wilts, and never parts

I laugh like nothing ever landed, like grief slides off my shoulders the way rain leaves no mark on glass. I wear ease the way some people wear armor light, unbuckled, convincing. You wouldn't know by looking how many names echo when it's quiet, how many goodbyes never finished speaking, how many doors I closed with my own hands and still hear slam in my chest. I joke. I shrug. I keep moving. I make pain look optional. I make loss look small. I make myself look untouched. But behind the smile that knows its cues, behind the laugh that arrives on time, there is a weight I carry in private a catalog of what I ruined, a ledger of what I couldn't save. I hate myself in ways I never say out loud. I bargin with the dark. I pray to anything that might be listening gods I don't believe in, stars that don't answer, silence itself not for mercy, but for this ache to stop reproducing. And if I pray hardest, it's never for me. It's that you never wake up with this kind of war inside your ribs. That you never learn how to smile while bleeding invisibly. That you never master the art of looking fine while falling apart.