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They say stay away from water
or learn to swim if you dont want to drown
I just stand on the sandy beach
as the waves caress my feet
and the ocean mocks me
'I know you want to come in'
but i am too young to die
I will not fall in love...

Piercing the soul
Come take a walk with me
I’ll take you to places that you have no desire to be
As I say, ‘beasts of hell shall walk with thee’
and we walk toward the within.
Mother Venus
Tonight Venus is mocking me
because I am blind
therefore I cannot see the shackles
that grasp me.
But I know they are there
and I have no choice
but I may chose what face to wear
long as I listen to Venus’s subduing voice.
The beloved
In some places they just slaughter men
In America they introduce them to woman!
In some places they just slaughter woman
In America they introduce them to men!
In some places they believe in love
In America they only believe in death.
In pseudo love their is individuality
In real love the beloved is devoured by the lover.
The universe me
The star thee
I am not me
............but I am we
For I am all that I see
............and the mirror
has been missing for years.
If it is eluding you
they will teach you
and you will master the art of perfection;
informally known as
the art of death and destruction.
According to common morality we are all descendants
of evil.
For our forefathers were all tyrants
but the treason manifest,
the view changed,
and now we call tyrants heros.
Obsession dominates what it is introduced to
and the sexes are slaves to their opposites
Eventually the opposition is transmuted to subtle submission.
That is when people are devoured...
In all the haste there only is waste
The people bustle
and build their ant hills
but the worms always invade.
The birds are hungry
while the hunters gun is aimed
and the cat is ready to pounce
as the dogs eyes are fixated
the whip cracks
and the sleigh is pulled.
The ice breaks
and the water swallows them all.
It takes patrons for a government to work
and a leader to govern the patrons.
The leader tells them what to do
and the patrons obey,
but if they dare say ‘no’
They are not patrons anymore.
The become an individual
and are usually ostracized to the point of extermination
But if they survive the years of ridicule
their silence becomes their worst enemy
for death comes quick
and their unspoken words are lost.
So they too are a patron once dead
What good is it to be a patron while alive
If once you die you are just like everyone else.
Under all the vanity you are just a human;
a mass of organs and bones draped in flesh
patronized by praise
and rewarded with a buck.
So in your casket
I hope that dollar is with you
for you patrons wasted your life for it.
Mikes illusionary trip
I’ve been alive seventeen years and four months
yet I will not say I’ve lived a minute.
The story of my life really doesn’t exist
as anything more than a story.
But because your prying eyes and my trusting soul
are staring each other in the face
I might as well take the opportunity
to tell you a story about nothing.

I was hatched on the third of April, in the year nineteen-hundred and eighty-two
They said I was stuck, so they yanked me out;
it nearly broke me in two.
Days later after the glue had dried
they concluded that a few nerves had died.
So I lay there, oblivious that the scar would last
haunting me till this very day, wretched past!
But that is just the beginning you see
there is much more that makes me...
At and before the age of four all I remember is gray
Ah, but once I hit five
I remember people
I thought I was alive
Months went by
and I soon learned
every ones favorite phrase
‘good bye’ they would say
as they turned their backs and never returned.
Finally I reached the age of six
It was first grade and my hopes were rather high
to my dismay
the teacher let out a sigh
and said;
‘Look boy, you can never read,
and in reading your writing no one could succeed’
So I hung my head for a while
If you must know it was bowed for five years
Then one day I was brought to a new place
Where the malice was abrupt and sublime
though the kids fleered me badly
at least I occupied their time.
Three years later
after an ocean tears
and fits of depression
They moved me yet again.
This time they said they’d make a man out of me
but their words grew stale
So they spoke again
‘An average slob you shall be’

Now at age sixteen I look back
and see that everything they ever said was wrong
that would be life’s lesson number three,
what of the first two?
They’re still eluding me.
The learning process
Its an awfully funny thing
seeing robots all stairing
mesmerized by a preachers words
and when they hear the sound
they do their ritual dances
and end up in another world
as the subject of a new preacher.
To someone
some other place and time.
I was here
upon this earth.
They knew me not
and called me never
but now you
either call me crazy
lest sanity has set in.
Natures parade
In a foreign country
in another time
the rain was beating
on a mystery sublime.
Below the earth
above the sky
my little soldiers
have refused to die.
In one blink of an eye
one hundred years
and a life went bye.
Lucky for me it was not my own
but in eighty-four years
I will be asking
‘where has my life gone?’
Sacred Simplicity
Crumbled walls surround the city
and fires rage within.
Men lay slain in the streets
for they were dubbed thieves of truth
because they would not let the unclean,
the impure penetrate the city walls.

The dirty ones laugh as the barricades of love crumble
and think, ‘at long last the secret is ours’
Scavenging and desecrating the holy city
they stumble upon no visible secret
and cry blaspheme while they beat their heads
upon the base of the shattered empire
for they spilled their blood for nothing
and they leave the devastated ruin
taking nothing with them but their shattered hopes
and the shame of returning just as poor as they left.

The simplest things are the most sacred
so covert men die in order to protect the obvious
but to the ones who value life
they will find that its a tragedy to live wearing a question
and those men already dead
who guard the abyss
they know better than to ask the lion if its hungry
while they have any mans blood on them
for it will keep life out of you every time.
Luna's Secret
Under luna‘s magic radiance
and within her latent matrix
there sits a tyro
who is normally blinded by humanities arrogance
but tonight luna has blessed the world with sight
in the shadows things dance emulating the raging flame of infinity,
for tonight the wick is aflame and
her secrets are revealed in the subtlest of forms
but when thy eyes try to see blindness subdues thee
so all have to take the nights word
that they did see what they only heard
In a drop of ink
there exists a world so vast and complex
the only way man can comprehend
the infinite universes is by calling it a dot,
a mere drop of ink
that holds the mystery of the universes
Of the Damned
Within an ink blot
in a tiny matrix
of a sphere called earth
I'm held inside this building
just like I hold my pen

I sit and scribe
making my pen toil
like a slave of the sun
as he rides across the azure
on his golden chariot

what a splendid waste to be sitting here
when I should be merging
into the flame of infinity
and falling into the gape of the earth

but I am here
in violation to my will
and the sphinx's will not befriend silence
until their god figure yells out
and then the abysses noise will reign
and once again my mind is to be clear
free to think
of that timeless riddle
echoes in my ears

Now-a-days I think my pen is talking
answering these subtle questions
in abstruse hieroglyphs
that I must interpret or else...

Or else what
will I end up like the rest
lost in histories rhymes
or like you thinking that I know
what this means
Maybe I should just shut my eyes
and pray it goes away
Its not happening
I'd bet...
I'd bet my life it is happening

But I don't have that choice in this world
I am incarnated into a youth
so I have no rights,
and my words are futile
All that matters is me and my pen

Both working against ourselves
It is the intermingling
of a mind within flesh,
ink within a pen
and authority with a whip that casts nothing.
Sister Moon
The clouds are stained with the city lights
hiding sister luna
and replacing her rays with water droplets
bombarding the land below

I did not want to ever leave
but I realized it was cold and dreary
and my thoughts evolved
from mist to rain

I do not want to be bothered by thinking
so I will wait to the clouds melt away
until I return to my sublime thoughts
and luna is seen upon her mighty throne again.
People talk about poetry so much
but me
I never could understand the wretched thing.
Questions always seek me,
why do I read this nonsense,
its nothing to me!
But I always seem to get lost
in my own rhetoric
and the acroama quells me
by then I wonder
am I asking about poetry anymore
or am I questioning life?
Kakistocratic Soldiers
Seen in contrast to the sable
hard and opaque
vivaciously evolving
transgressing freke

Green thumb politicians
patronized by a penny
vadelect magicians
slayers of hćccity
It is not uncanny
when lost in ectopia
to donate a smirk
maybe a jovial snarl toward xenophobia
Happiness in travestia
lovers of the surreal
ready to chase after another eutopia
fromth of a reel

Megalomaniacal dimension
with those formative scenes
figments of delusion
and you think you know what this means!
Last updated on 10/21/98