I'm calm, composed, and nonchalant
In debt to my desire
I sell my soul to design passion--
To find that it fled from me

I play for my heart--
With an elderly, unkempt chess board
With fading colors and missing pieces--
Ambiguity has blended them as I sleep

Adopted by Reason, I ran from Home--
To sleep, nevermore, in my own skin
Disfigured, the hours melt away--
My rib-cage houses their wayward ghosts

I am controlled or coerced--
Anxiety crippled my heart's playwrights
Cutting off my vexing hands--
Bound in a stock, headed for Babylon...

What heart have I to show to you?--
[This feckless Autumn night]
I failed to sing a song that's new:
My heart was always trite

I don't know what I'm doing here
Or, why I dream of lust
My mind has been a Home for Fear
Its gears are plagued with rust

When once I failed to feel at all
I drank until I slept
In sullen haze, I still recall:
The way the sirens wept

Since when had I succumbed to Love--
To forge a solemn pledge?
When Push Became A Violent Shove:
They threw me off the edge

Awakened in a cage of steel
I had to then, recall:
I trained myself to never feel
I never did at all...

As Green as my envy, and Blue as the sea:
Her eyes held such sorrow, for Her and for me
A cordial indifference had led us to part
We brewed our destruction, and sold it as art

What truthful intention we seldom had weaved
Our hearts were two stories which no one believed
These songs turned to silence, and weakened our trust
For Love, to ambition; ambition, to lust

But, I can still see Her when I close my eyes
Without Her, intention had doubled in size
The fourth day of April had caused my collapse
I'm feckless, in silence; yet, bathe in the past...

How many more unarmed people need to get shot by cops with no repercussion?...

How many more times will a cop get 1-4 years for involuntary manslaughter instead of second or first degree ****** when the prerequisites for "duty" directly contradict the plausible notions of involuntary manslaughter?...

How many more times will chiefs of police feed you the story that they were unaware of internal corruption which took place on a wide scale for decades?...

How many more times will a cop's ****** case get thrown out in the name of 'self-defense' when there are a dozen or more bullet wounds in the deceased victim?...

How many videos need to be released of cops tasering or pepper spraying people who are already face-down on the ground, handcuffed, with no ramifications?...

How many more times will witnesses to police brutality and police ****** (or murders conducted by politicians) 'disappear,' or 'die in an accident' before the trail?...

How many more cops will **** women with no charges before the American public cares?...

How many "internal police investigations" or internal government investigations" need to be conducted with no result before the American public realizes that police and politicians get special treatment or exemptions from the law which they create and "uphold"?...

In antithesis, how much longer will someone get life in prison or the death penalty for killing a cop when that same cop would get ten years if the tables were turned (Given that the policeman or policewoman is even convicted)?...

I’m plundered by my lack of will
And, all my timid thought
The life I lead is time-to-****
I feel my conscience rot

My heart had planted empathy
But, thorns would grow and thrive
And now, they get the best of me
I’m hardly still alive

The flesh it felt, my heart replaced
But, you won’t see me grieve
For now, you know: I’m doubly-faced
And, all I built will leave

Instead of lust for Love or fear
I’m purposely bereft
Although I hear Her in my ear
My will to try had left...

Pathological Liars, support buyers
Worthless medals on their chests
JP Morgan's Hand-puppet speaks:

They have you screaming, yea or nay
With their hands making your heart strings dance
As you throw your soul at the Golden Calf

Your fingers are on your phone screen
While their fingers are on the trigger
Trusting in your pin-pointed amnesia

Twenty-five times that badge takes your life
While you get 25-to-life for vending plants
Have you seen this backwards plan?

The Government among us is as skewed
As the lines in
this
poem...

A stranger to my apathy--
I don't know what to do
For, deep inside, I am not free:
I yearn to be like you

I don't know what I'm doing, Love
I send my heart below
When Push Becomes A Violent Shove
There's nothing left to show

For, I'm aware of what I feel:
Still foreign to my peer
Yet, I am blind to what is real:
To Lie is my career

I sleep in ambiguity
Then live unlike the rest
For, deep inside, I am not free
And, all untruth is dressed...

I'm wasted by my apathy
I'm barely even here
My will knows Ambiguity:
A grievance for my peer

I rarely Love my fellow man
Or, practice what I preach
Deception is my biggest fan
My Dreams are out of reach

I live as Epimetheus:
And, run from each mistake
I hide my Lies, like most of us
And, give much less than take

I lust to see my Ego fed
To hope this Lie is true
But, deep inside, I feel I'm dead--
Pretending, just like you...

What heart have I to show to you?--
[This feckless Autumn night]
I failed to sing a song that's new:
My heart was always trite

I don't know what I'm doing here
Or, why I dream of lust
My mind has been a Home for Fear
Its gears are plagued with rust

When once I failed to feel at all
I drank until I slept
In sullen haze, I still recall:
The way the sirens wept

Since when had I succumbed to Love--
To forge a solemn pledge?
When Push Became A Violent Shove:
They threw me off the edge

Awakened in a cage of steel
I had to then, recall:
I trained myself to never feel
I never did at all...

Ingrained is my reality?
I lose it all the time
There's someone here who's not quite me
My heart ain't worth a dime

My fear is not of consequence
It never really stayed
This vivid heart is on the fence
So many times, betrayed

Am I content with all I lose--
When I just play it cool?
I live a Life I should not choose
For that, I am a fool

I do so much imagining
Yet, where do I return?
Just what does this intention bring...
...When I cannot discern?

So quickly, I had sold my heart
My patience practiced me
Is what I'm writing truly art
Or, all which I can't see?

My Sleeping Beauty never wakes
And soon, I will recall:
I know this much, we both are fakes
We never feel at all...

You crawl beneath my timid heart
Deploying those feeble desires
I speak with vivacious eloquence
But, I have not changed my reasoning--

Or, lack there of

I dive, head-strongly, into the same folly
Dreaming dreams I've halfheartedly dreamed before
With vehemence as my blind witness:
I stab at the sands, to search for sentiment

Or, lack there of

[The sentiment I had unnervingly hurled into the sea]
There is nothing to gain from this redundant Intention
Crestfallen, it follows me, with all of my lost chances
And, I have Run...out of places to peddle my Love

Or, lack there of...

It took three years to bury myself
Amidst the reckless notions of preservation
But, I wrapped up my distress, deeply within my skin
Writing the answers on my hand, and forgetting that they were there

I bathed in spite, three times-a-day
And, ran from sober thoughts:
To build a persona, an alter ego
Then, to remember what I had forgotten

I live in my imagining--
The present is much too distraught
So, I fall off of the cliff, with Epimetheus
Until my heart is plundered by a fleet of Visigoths

There are skeletons, pumping through my veins
Though, I pretend they're gone--
I hear my conscience screaming at me
So, I put the cork back in the bottle...

"Let's drink to forgetting while losing our heads
Let's die on the highway, and live in our beds"

We gambled with Reason, and lost every bet
There's much to remember, and more to forget

In time, Love allured me through all of my doubt
But when my mouth opens, will daggers come out?

I fell for a dreamer, and She fell for me
But, we're just pretending that we will be free

Bright green, like my envy: Her eyes pierced my heart
We wrote Masquerading, and sold it as art

Of all of my demons, I miss Her the most
Let's drink to pretending there's something to toast...

Her heart is unobtainable
She haunts me in my sleep
My will is not sustainable
There's nothing left to keep

I've seen Her in my better dreams
But, they're too far away
At night, Her livid heart still screams:
'Why can't you let me stay?!'

I feel Her still, aside my brain
She's trying to get in
I'll lose my mind if she'll remain
So, don't let Love begin

I crumble, deep inside this text
My heart's a bitter crutch
When all I know is quickly vexed
I treat my dreams as such...

I left my heart in the sand
On a beach, named Weirs
With a plight of distaste
And, a demon for every freckle on Her face...