I am a traveling salesman
and in my travels I have
sold many a thing
in middle class America,
I sold debt, love, lies,
wasted youth, and forgotten dreams
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.

My travels brought me to
the south of the Rio Grande.
Disease and poverty were
on the first of my list of things
to sell.  Soon, heartbreak, hate,
tyranny, and fleeing for a future
followed,
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.

I traveled to the east, the
exact opposite of where humanity
once tread.  I sold many things there
to people none the wiser.
Racism, genocide, and intolerance
I removed from my bag, and they
received tyranny and fanaticism
for free,
and none were the wiser
of what I sold.

I fled to the north to sell my goods.
The land of former kings provided
a great market for distrust, poverty,
and eventual declines from the great
history the land once knew.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.

So I went to the last place of my sales
the not-quite-Far East.  And there I found
the best market for civil wars, censorship,
arms sales, rebellions, and most of all,
potential.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.

And so I fled this world to sell to another
and in my travels, I sold the world
to things leading to destruction.
And none were the wiser
of what I sold.

Do not tell me to be quiet, do not silence my storm, do not tie me up in riddles, or covers to try and keep me warm. Do not try to be the drum to which my heart beats to, i am not a key in your lock, i am not the labyrinth within, you.

Do not tell me to shut up and sit down, do not misunderstand me, assume, appertain to, mislead or declare me reborn. Do not be within which i do not wish to seek; i am not yours, your reproach, your tears, or your regrets when you're weak.

Do not put your fingers upon my lips, do not silence me with a look, do not think you are more than you think you are, because you are more than i ever thought to be enough. Do not try, do not even for a second walk away, do not leave me alone, do not even, let me ever scream for you to stay.


Do not ask me to stop talking, thinking i won't be long, this is not a 4/4 or 3 into 2 kind of song. There is no birth, without a death, there is no grief without feeling bereft.

Do not ever expect me to be, someone who you think i want to be.
Just take my hand,
say 'hush now, be still and come, be still with me'

today i became aware
of the reason why
i have to try with much effort
not to glance his way constantly.
Oh how i love his mouth and the way it moves,
not just his lips,
but the utterly adorable way
that the corners of his mouth
slide ever so slightly upward
while he sings into my soul

-kk

sometimes
i look out at the velvet sky at night and i wish i were the moon,
when she is out no one can compare to her luminous beauty,
she is the fairest one,
and yet,
she always manages to stay modest in her delicate black veil,
perfectly draped,
around her silhouette.

sometimes
i stand out in the exposed bright of day and i wish i were the sun,
without her the world would be a cold and lifeless place,
she is the reason for countless beaming smiles,
and yet,
she can burn their gentle skin with a single impassioned glare,
blazing with power,
and perfect precision.

but sometimes,
on occasion, i look into the mirror,
and i can see the shimmering specks in my eyes,
and the light streaming from my hair and eyelashes,
and i realize,
that wishing for the sun and moon is pointless,
when i can be the stars.

-kk

There is something there, in the essence of this, something that i tasted, salt and sweat, dripping from your fingertips. There is footsteps in the stairway around my heart, i hear them creaking in the moonlight, as you find your way in the dark.
Where is my vision?
I don't tend to look at your eyes, i cannot, i do not have to be that strong. I found a million pardons, when i was asking if there was something i did wrong. I feel the scoop of your hand on that familiar place on my back, and i headily breathe you, as i hear your knuckles crack, from the weight of my familiarity.
Where do i come from?
What is that whisper in the ****** air. The dreams that i have are so absent and so bare. I lost and i lose and try to walk again, on broken ankles, with broken toes, my legs have the strength of ten men. And i am lost, i am lost, and i will say it again. But i am lost in being lost, so is this my religion, my prayer and my a-men?
Where is my heart?
Free me, throw me into the air, shoot me, ****** me, act  like you don't care. There is no obligation in an ounce of your tone. Your music is denotation, your heartbeat becomes a microphone. And you sing, you sing, a love song to me 'Dorothy you are home'
Where is my place?
Dreaming of second comings, and i desperately seek your face. I want to kiss you, to kiss you, with my lips, i will erase. You are nothing more to me, than a seeker in this battle of sun-down to sun-up. Find me, come hide me, come fill me with your cup.

You fail to realize that my misty eyes come from pity
That I reflect on your life and see why
You act out
Shout, scream
Lash out at me
See me as an intellectual
Leaves you feeling vulnerable
I see right through the way
You say my name
And get so frustrated
But you made me cry today
This game you play is shaded
You are so afraid of hurt
That you just let words burst
Like bullets they pierce in
And are lost inside the tissue
Of my heart
You
Make
Me
Cry.
But today was different and it marked
The beginning
Of change.

I don't even know who
to pray to anymore

It almost seems like an
insult to ask You,

when you're watching us
burn our world to
bits.

So.
Universe, I guess you are
holding the cards now...

There are so many volcanoes,
all burning Rome.

I suspect even without my feeble
wish,

You have burdens enough.