I’m walking down a dark path,
Found comfort in my dark past.
My thoughts are easily disturbed.
Soul so corrupted, if I wanted to sell it to the devil, it would be immediately returned.
It may better to be born ugly than pretty.
How many beautiful people easily acquire humility?
My poetry is redudant.
Heartbreak, pain, love, sex, politics,
Life, spirituality, elevated consciousness,
I’m provided all of the above in abundance.
I barely get respect.
Or maybe I expect
Respect from those who pose minimal importance, so why should I even get upset?
It obviously has an effect.
I can’t tell if I’m lost or experiencing freedom.
We are hardly speaking,
And I’m thinking,
Every attempt I make to reconnect for a meeting,
Is once again a reminder that I am obviously sleeping,
Because I’m dreaming.
My perfection is nonexistent similar to the others I share this oxygen with.
But what do you do when being chastised is the only option you get,
They say you’re moving too fast,
You have to stop and to sit,
Or risk being left behind, and labeled as wasting time
then you are cautioned to quit.
Obviously I haven’t learned one lesson when it comes to emotions.
Which is why operation Fuck Love is fully in motion.
I’m not bitter, just broken and fed up with being chosen,
By a particular archer who can’t cease to release his tantrum of explosions.
I now realize that situations mold faster than organic herbs.
You can cycle from combining ambitions to using savage words.
Expectations become parallel and inconsistent.
Astounding how sobered actions can alter thoughts and intentions.
Memories before cherished became tenants to ashtrays,
Possessions that were once sacred lost their value.
Connections that have been active have found alternative pathways,
Conversations that were normally heard no longer have volume….
It all worked out in the end.
We don’t know each other and you may not have a particular interest in acquiring new acquaintances.
I recognize a bio-chemical compatibility, so why not submerge each other in our own amazingness.
Our lips are desiring the extensive, prolonged security of an intimate relationship,
We can ignite flames that scent the fragrance of pleasure,
I appear in your mind after you closed your eyes to make a wish.
I’m feeling you,
You’re feeling me,
Is colliding like destroyed atoms crashing into each other, replicating cosmic energy.
Let’s take the hint.
I’m sure you’ve had your share of unoriginal interactions, so I’ll be sure not to make the list.
Our tongues are celebrating and performing ancient rituals, slow dancing with anticipation as they await the kiss.
We can create memories that linger in the synaptic gap of reoccurring flashbacks, striking still images that appear in our minds no matter what day it is.
Mankind’s ego is what causes you to sacrifice eternity for pleasures of the moment.
Stripping your thoughts
It uncovers layers that protect you from being open.
The mind bathes in free thinking.
But we’re cleanse resistant,
So therefore habitual patterns make us consistent victims.
We have yet to accept the fate of our flaws;
Plaguing truth with the overconfidence in ourselves that recycle happiness to rare memory occurrences
Allowing us to continue to prevent purification from happening;
Staggering progression, like an old car when it stalls.
I never wanna get to the point to where you think that I’m manipulating or using you.
You notice patterns in behavior, and conclude with proof.
Shouldn’t be surprised by the usual.
No longer impressed by the same tactics or what I used to do.
So you move on,
And decide to discontinue the pain, and you choose the truth.
Good for you.
I don’t know if I’ve told you I missed you,
But you probably wouldn’t believe me if I did.
I could be more stand offish than a magnum revolver on a Cowboys hip when a new sheriff’s in town,
Truth is, you’ve always intrigued me instead.
Amid all of these mixed feelings you stuck around and hung on to the possibility of chemistry that was meant to react.
Life happened, we separated. Never were able again to reattach.
Unless it involved the beautiful process of creating musical syllables, grinding synchronized thoughts when they matched.
Which exploded brainwaves that vibrate cosmic space and kept us coming back.
My mouth waters at the thought of tasting you,
I miss connecting to your soul from the tip of my tongue.
We use our bodies as crash dummies and collide to prevent recalls months afterward,
Designing concept vehicles and test driving the product once it’s officially done.
I remember when some chicks told me I never stood a chance,
It eventually settled in.
And now they are seeing some of the confidential architecture of my future plans,
They suddenly want to move in.
I started off as less attractice to some, but i was tall, athletic, and had a way with words.
At conception, specifications were deferred for a specific period of time and once I reached a certain threshold in my mind, it emerged.
My D’N’A has become a sychronized comoditiy.
Women subconsciously use subtle methods to get it out of me,
Mentally try to create a bond with me,
With hopes that it becomes permanent because they recognize the anomaly.
“The Psychology of Poetry”
You must not know who I am.
I’ll spare your attention with pointless introductions.
I’m the brain signals that make you smile whenever you hear my name going into discussions.
The Rosa Parks of your thoughts that refuses to go to the back seat.
You would literally have to snatch me,
Then drag me
through the back street,
And lock me in a cage with a latched key;
To delay the process of headaches, that become migraines, that eventually start
turning into concussions.
Just call me an unforgettable surprise.
A normal individual in disguise.
Someone you screenshot memories of within your eyes.
And as you live out the remaining days of your lives,
My image arrives,
Spontaneously throughout your mind as
Inhibitions are now destroyed and reconstructed,
I avoided repercussions
too much awesome.
Normally, I’m subtle with my approach,
as you can tell I don’t do this often,
But by now you should have a clearer image of who’s this talking.
I am the vibration of the lips, a dialect, and a description of the soul.
I am the universe in God’s hand when Adam was just 6 years old.
I am the feeling that’s created when your body begins to shake and you clinch your toes.
Your anatomy overload’s and your ribs expose,
And then explode,
And you get this feeling like you clenched ten goals
drenched in gold.
I am the immense exaggeration that deviates dramatically from normality.
Depleted my mediocrity to enter the realm of abnormality,
So to call me one of a kind would be blasphemy.
I exist on this infinite scale of insanity
that is exclusively designed to function only within my capacity.
And since I have this undefined mentality,
It gives me characteristics that are substantially,
Incomparable to any other particles that exist in this universe organically.
Money is power, words are a force,
So what’s a body builder to gravity?
I possess the same leadership strategies as the other members of society who been identified as losing their sanity.
I can be used in versatile ways whether it’s to help or hurt humanity.
Engulf my spirit, it would grant you access to aspects of my personality.
Self-destruction is in conjunction with the pleasures of creating a masterpiece,
I am poetry…
I design your world’s reality.