Observation

Against the cold and damp night,

Ghosts of past illuminations appear.

Crashing against the quiet and desolate streets,

Men run for cover under the comfort of temporary solitude,

Humming like the song bird of sunnier days.

Mother nature goes to war with furious rage

And blackens the putrid sky.

The great white hope surrenders to moral ineptitude,

While Troy burns like the starry dynamo.

The children of a promised generation fall asleep

To the chorus of sweet lullabies, while the monster of the night

Plot their demise.

Hope has shifted its fleeting disguise to the realm of unattainable

Fortitude.

The streets are ravaged with headless horsemen

Trying desperately to have their whispers acknowledged.

Divided and already conquered,

The voice of reason has no place to stand in the market place.

Delusions of a fabled legacy haunt the very nature of our existence

And the power of the corrupt few instills the façade of security.

The purity of this long journey is no longer attainable

And the poison, which brings us temporary pleasure, is the favored

Escape.

Peace lies within the deepest depths of our blackened selves,

And solitude is the key, which unlocks this dreaded fear.

In the relative unknown the brutes tremble and cast their stone,

While the outcast takes his pain with silence.

The brightest youths throw away what they have to offer

For the cheap thrills of a poor soul.

Laughter is their only anecdote for the suffering behind each and every

Mask they wear.

I pity them, for a man with a thousand faces can only offer

The drug of a junkied generation.

Lighter shades of dark illuminate the secrets behind the misty veil,

While the suns blaze covers the blemishes of tomorrow.

Sleep is a luxury these days

And only the dead get to enjoy its warm embrace.

On Cobbled Streets

the smudge of yellow and green glisten in the fading rays of eternal light,

while fall whips upon the uneasy footsteps of the unsuspecting youth.

against the brick and stone, cast in an earthy haven,

the young bard plucks his strings making notes fit for the coming spring.

here, in this place, I am lost in Eden,

while the dead ramble on in their circus act.

behind the rusted iron gates I am king,

and the world seems much more serene.

but alas such peace is short lived,

the metropolis does not let such a place go unscathed.

maybe the sun is only suppose to shine one ray at a time,

and only last long enough for the alcoves to see.

Four Letter Word

Four letters separate you and me,

Freedom comes and goes

But life is seldom better wrapped together

In the white sheets of a misty haven.

We are all chained to the sky,

But you seem to transcend such boundaries

That even the birds falter against.

I was there and now I’m here,

Tomorrow I’ll be gone,

So take me now

Or never again.

The future has no place for me,

Nature is my enemy,

So keep an eye out for the wind,

It carries the whispers of places I’ve been.

Dancing in the pale blue night,

Men grow old, but the way home to you

Is always within sight.

Lost Soul

I call myself a lost soul, but what does that really mean?  Through the course of recent events I believe that I have a better understand of what the means.  You see, I don’t really feel like I fit in, that is to say I don’t feel like I have a crowd.  I feel a need to fit in sometimes, like most people I believe, but ultimately I feel unsatisfied.  Why is that, why can’t I just be “normal”?  The problem is that normal doesn’t exist and those that fall under such a category are living a lie.  People who conform and fall under such normality are losing themselves, losing what is uniquely theirs.  Being an individual is tough and having to deal with going against the grain of what is considered mainstream can be down right depressing.  An individual may makes decisions that seem conforming to the sold out, but in reality they are conscious decisions based on thought rather than being cool or trying to fit in.  I now realize that being lost means that I am a deep thinker and am closer to knowing myself rather than conformist.  In times like these I am grateful for my friends who uphold this ideal because an individual needs like-minded people around him or her.  Forming such a bond transcends what society wants us to believe today.  The world isn’t perfect and we, in democratic society, are not truly free, but I at least know that as well as my brothers and sisters.  So I may cause many people to be angry or upset, but I am just being me and you should just be you.   

Hello Boston

Usually I just write my fucking weak poetry but tonight I’m not going to do that.  You see I’m tired, I’m tired of the way things are.  Call me crazy, but life isn’t that great.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sad, I’m not depressed, life just isn’t all that grand.  What I mean is that the normal life we are all suppose to live and follow is complete and utter bullshit.  I wake up each morning and go to class thinking why, why am I doing this, what is it all for?  Now besides the obvious career and financial reasons, but beyond that why, nobody seems to ask that question.  I think a lot and say very little, but quite frankly the way things are going is quite puzzling for me.  You see, through this journey in life we are suppose to or at least try to be happy and be surrounded by happiness, but in this current society all I see is pain, suffering, and nothing more than misery.  When are we supposed to be happy?  When are we supposed to start doing things we love?  It always seems like the answer is in the future, but what about right now?  Who said people are suppose to suppress their dreams because of some little fucking piece of paper that means we are smart enough to do what we love?  We live in a sick world full of lies and deception and we all need to wake the fuck up.  Technology is destroying us socially and its pressures are making everyone go insane.  Look inside yourselves and see that there is much more inside of you than all this bullshit.  I once thought that grades and being a socially conforming person was the way to a happy and successful life, but for a long time now I see otherwise.  I don’t really care how people see me anymore, I don’t care if you like me, hate me, or couldn’t give a shit about me.  I don’t care who I have sex with, if I smoke, if I drink, or if I swear too much.  We keep hiding behind these social rules that have no bearing on who we are or what we are going to do, yet we blindly follow them because someone said we needed to.  Who cares what you do or think, just fucking do what makes you happy and what feels good in the moment.  I have seen too much in last year and I’m never going back to that life.  The moment is where I will be, so if you want come follow me.  

For A.G.

Howling in the night, the collective mind has gone mad.

The naked insanity crying out for a glimmer of hope,

My generation is lost and dead already.

Wired and glued to illuminations,

The pale-faced imagination has gone to the black oblivion.

 Hiding on roof tops and around dark corners

The principles of virtuous thought lay waiting.

Alone behind a flamethrower of hopelessness,

We comfort each other in the cold dark night.

Despair and its lingering scent,

Following the partially clothed rawness as it sits silently.

Expression, feeling, all numbed by innovation.

Tears fill empty bottles of poison and we are consumed,

Drowning in our own delight.

Death is all we know and it is all we have.

The sun fails to rise on darkened streets,

And the insanity, the madness, has won.   

Last Day

barreling down the path of lighted nothingness 

the natural mystic lingers in the midnight air.

hopes and dreams scatter like sticks in the wind,

hanging just within reach.

the pitch black horizon whispers of the future and the chilled breeze reminds the soul of the here and now.

the end is near, but the feeling is not mutual.

time has rendered a new beginning but the clouds of the past linger.

misty vapor fills the lungs with each nervous breathe,

time is nothing yet time is everything.

times spent and times lost are all the same and have a similar cost.

the dawn is near,

my fate is here.