Dreams this world has long forgotten,

are we the lost within our own delusions?

...I have no muse...which I think means that I have no real existential problems, or problems that are holding me down so hard that I don't feel a need to write and escape....this might be good? 

Academia

Oh, but the shakers of mankind,

they were like me, not you,

we all get what we deserve,

my colors will shine true!

countless endevors to win

all seem to pale in your eyes

I want to stand tall next to you

yet you can't see me as anything close

insult me blankly and stare me down,

I read you but I refuse to lose, 

for I will join the ranks of the academics

I will live my dream one day

but for now, I am only a student,

struggling to have someone take me serious

my numbers a reflection of my struggles

and my attitude a reflection of my determination.

Tell Me No More

It is Worth it, You will See

Modified Song (Pictures of You by The Last Goodnight)

This is the clock upon the wall,

This is was story of us both,

This is the silent screams of the incoming tears,

before the breakup of a young couple.

This is the war that's never won.

This is a soldier and his gun.

This is the mother waiting by the phone,

Praying for her son.

This is him not caring,

going off to war,

breaking her heart,

leaving behind all the loved ones.

This is his girl crying with his mother

at the news that he has been killed.

This is the suffering of those loved ones,

the suffering of us all.

Confess to me now, every secret moment,

Every stolen promise you made me believe.

Confess to me, all that lies between us,

All that lies between you and me.

Pictures of you, pictures of me,

Hung upon your wall for the world to see.

Pictures of you, pictures of me,

Remind us all of what we used to be.

It Bugs Me

Ingesting them daily,
worms eating us
from the inside out.

We hide it with lies,
disguised with smiles,
but we feel them eating away.

How ugly when they
succeed, when brought to light.

How painful when they are
eating away at us little by little.

These are the things that eat at us,
these are the worms that
cause our concerns and insecurities,
squeeze tears from our eyes,
tear us to pieces with lies and
we tell ourselves we are fine.

Muse

Inverse Silhouettes

obsidian cover over the white washed marble,

the outline where he once stood destroys the dark veil,

ashes placed skillfully over rock,

only he stands amongst the rubble now,

a still-life of reality disconcerted within reality.

Suppressed Screams

Fighting a Lover

(A modified version of Something Corporate song, "She Paints Me Blue")

I watched as the lights go off in your apartment tonight, and

wondering how I could get so deep,

get so attached and hurt and

you could still get to sleep.

In vain, I blame my troubles on the cold air,

only anger and resentment keep me warm tonight,

but I can't hide that I rely too much on you,

like yellow does on blue.

I'm attached to you by the thigh,

its impossible to say good-bye.

Tonight I saw you go to sleep

without saying a word to me,

my tears go unnoticed

as you slumber.

My only good feeling leaves,

I am kneeling, pleading for change.

Inside a room, he colors me blue.

Sadness and loneliness so true.

He swallows me in red,

"I love you" is all I said.

You are my reason for breathing.

Inside a room, he paints me yellow.

Refusing to take flight, and now

New York started snowing on me.

Destiny gets nervous,

but you are my reason for breathing!

C++

All I Wanted

Soldier, Honor in Reluctance

I tried to make an ice sculpture in Puerto Rico once,

My hands hurt at the end,

but I had molded that block into something beautiful!

How naive of me to think it would last in such heat!

How naive of me to cry over things that I can't change,

no matter how much I wished.

I cried. I cried, but one day, I stopped.

I am waiting for that day again.

**actually, I went to a wedding with one, and it didn't last long at all! This has that as the medium, but the message has nothing to do with ice sculptures.

Freedom

Swinging on a Branch of a Broken Family Tree

It doesn't hurt from a distance,
tune it all off,
all the terrible things
you don't want to know,
they won't burden you,
if you do.

Press the button
and the remote will respond,
the images will turn black,
only upon command will they come back.

Lucky,
those who have the choice
to be ignorant,
for they live life as it comes
and never give a second thought
to the events occurring about.

Sorry...
Sorry to those who see it first hand.
They can't turn the screen off.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................

Front Line

('Nam came to our doorstep)

The desensitization of man has started.
Started with bringing the horrors home,
the distant troubles that never bothered
became what assailed the minds of the masses daily.

No longer was the soldier in the trenches
the only one to see the battlefront.
The war has been brought home.

The abhorrent scenes became commonplace,
as the family gathers to watch turmoil
like a Hollywood thriller.

**These first two came to me when we were discussing O'Brien's work and the WWI poem. **

Instructions

It was a machine
the product of another,
instrument of precision,
crafted by his hands,
years in the making.
It was his life's project.

It came to him
broken in pieces.
His job, he thought,
was to build it
from scrap.

Almost, if not all,
robotic.
By the manual,
things fell into place
and the programmer,
satisfied with his creation
releases it.

Level 1,
got there.
Level 2,
little more work.
Level 3,
There are more levels to reach.
Level 4,
final stage...
Now what?
His programmer never made an ending.

He saw others like himself,
when they reached the final level,
the control would drop,
the screen would go black,
and that was the end.

As he laid down,
about to shut off the power,
he thought to himself,
"There must be more than this..."
and the screen went black.

Shift

A wave sweeps the city away,
not a moments notice
before being submerged.

The great plates have shifted,
bulged under too much stress
and this quake has taken its toll,
for what once stood now lays in ruins.

Some passed away in the turn of events,
others survived, merely out of luck.
Some will rejoice, All will mourn.
All will see the fragility of life.

Under stress, the plates gave off.
The result was catastrophic,
but it was also a lesson.
Those who remain must pick up again
and start anew, the right way.

Where there is great danger,
there is great hope.
Where there is great suffering,
there are great acts of humanity.
Much like war and all other crimes done to man,
there will always be light,
because there is shadow.

Disengage

In a desert, the mirage is there
and wishful thinking makes it real
makes it seem attainable.
we want it so bad,
we deceive ourselves into seeing things,
yet, we can never keep that veil
we place in front of ourselves forever.

sad, he doesn't know
it is a false hope,
and he continues to run
towards his one goal.
One-track minded,
he never falters.

His greatest inner turmoil
was coming to terms with that mirage;
for when he arrived at his goal,
he had achieved what he set out for,
found it wasn't what he envisioned.
In his determination,
he made it to his destination,
but he thought not of where he would head next.
He now wonders the desert aimlessly.

He sits down,
beaten down by the sun's harsh rays,
the wind's constant scraping on his face,
the sand's nonsupporting grip;
never to get up again.
Learned helplessness,
We are born to win
but conditioned to lose.

Missed the Moment

Tears rolled down as
realization of mistakes
that robbed the meaning
of living surfaced.

Going 100 mph
the billboards became blurs,
the scenery disappeared
became a splatters of green and blue.

Missed the smell of the flowers,
the beautiful displays of art on the billboards,
missed the exit and missed the destination
as well as all the attractions...
Missed the Moment,
Missed the Moment,
Never again,
Never again!

God scratches his head,
Dandruff!
dropping fluffy white stuff,
silence and brush, both dead.

A true ninja in it's coming,
towering and glistening,
it is the sight we see from behind the window
within the comfort of indoors
and long for.

Before joining
we are taught to prepare for what lies
beyond the protection of the hearth and shelter
but the young must learn by hitting their heads against walls.

Undergo the elements,
the chill breath against the bare skin,
a blade to that exposed,
innocence lost as we grasped the railing,
last chance to step down passed.

With aid, they sped down the white mound,
penguins on their bellies,
sitting on the vehicle,
gazing at the long, bumpy road to be treaded,
yelps of ecstasy and horror filled the air.

Hardest thing is to start,
then it is all downhill.
Pulling on the railing,
we took control...
or so we thought,
the world was waiting for us to live.

We won't step down,
we couldn't,
it was all downhill
and so, we kept fighting onward.

The hollow whisper of the wind in our ears,
screams into the darkness heard to few,
like penguins we sped down the bumpy road.

Adrenaline spills and fear becomes the motivation,
surreal sensation, our time is now,
and we struggle to keep from falling
as we descend, clutching the railing harder.

It is when the bottom is reached
that the ride seems too short,
but as they grab the sled and head back up the hill,
grinning and laughing at their last run.