Christ and Satan walks the earth
Between three and six am
when drunken minds wonder their worth
And the powers that be possess them.
When its come to me and them
I am more in between
Than the seem down your jeans
That splits your *** in two.
The black **** in between your tiles
That you can not clean.
I do drugs
But I am far from a fiend
I am drugs
The one the people crave
And will always love

I am the rising son
Brighter than
The morning sun
From a place where
the heroes run
And the ******* children
Are always shunned
And made fun
I am the rising son.
The Nephilim

Keep your eye
to the rising son
For my light within
Is far from
The darkest dim.
I am Nephilim.

Far from the normal
Yet close to the insane.
Enlightened thoughts
swim through my brain
As big as Jonah's whale
Covered in flames from hell
and from above.
Those that are blind
Would say that I've gone mad.
In reality I'm just sad
And depressed.
Because in this mad world
The brightest minds are oppressed.
I am obsessed with the thought
If I am blessed by Jehovah
Or have I turned over possessed
By Satan and his aura.
When it comes down to this
Wicked **** that I've spit
Upon this page
You don't know ****.

I am the rising son
Brighter than
The morning sun
From a place where
the heroes run
And the ******* children
Are always shunned
And made fun
I am the rising son.
The Nephilim

Keep your eye
to the rising son
For the light within
Is far from
The darkest dim.
I am Nephilim.

Four *******
And a third eye.
This is the answer why.
We need more before the end
Draws nigh.

ebbing tides
muted shadows sketched in sand
a sculpted archive of footprints and wind
crashing ocean’s hypnotic slow motion
rolling onto the beach
rushing white froth washing forth and back
renewing the smoothness with salty scrubbing bubbles
the setting full moon shines bright
projecting her power’s peak
reflecting horizontal streaks of crackling blue electricity
rippling and running
riding atop the cresting waves
pounding surf as conduit
completing the circuit on shore
empowering the Ancients' resurrection
in the rising midnight mists
mirage-like vaporous images charge
clearly visible beneath her sweeping silvery veil
buckskin **** cloths, eagle claws and feathers
indigenous people stepping rhythmically in a circle
feint sounds of chanting and a drum-like heart beat
a dance for the ages
seeking favor and protection
rituals and ceremonies
keeping the wolves at bay
celebrating the crows’ return
or a bountiful harvest
as they have for millennia
when the moon falls over earth’s edge
the dancers dissipate
retreating like sand *****
awaiting the next full moon.

I want to write poetry
But
What am I to write about?

I could tell you about
The horse I had at 3
That my parents sold at 4,

Or the Taco Bell up the street
That was closed
For selling drugs out the back window,

Or even the time
That my dad crushed an ant
Into our old cement patio
And tears sprang to my eyes because
I was sure that the ant had a family somewhere
Who would expect him home any minute.

But those aren’t very pleasant things
And I’m not able to make rhymes,

So I am forced to face the truth
That maybe
I am not a very pleasant person.

I'm not sure if I am empty or endless
endless sounds nice
it sounds like I capture the sea and the mountains
and you
if you walked far enough
your veins being your only road map

it sounds like I am every color and every song
and I can touch stars if I want to
breathing in the dust of planets
and getting Saturn's rings tangled in my hair

yes endless sounds nice
but I am so afraid
In being endless you will only focus on the craters I am on the moon
and the caves I am in the land
and the black depths of the ocean
(empty)

I am so afraid
that you will come to me for a drink
and will leave just as thirsty
with no oasis
no resting place
no me; with or without you
(empty)

The taste of regret still lingers on my tongue
It’s funny how similar it tastes to you,
And the stolen moments from which we clung.

Back against a brick wall clawing desperately,
Wrinkled clothes in the way of naked bodies
Pressed together, chests sliding ever so splendidly.

But instances only last until someone speaks,
Breaking apart lips and silence all at once
Leaving me to lament the bitterness inside my cheeks.

Classic clouds clear through the night
Whispering a lullaby

As I look into those deep green eyes
Singing as the sheep pass by

Brushing my face with tiny fingers
You melt me with your sweet linger

Curled up in a warming blanket
Your skins aroma leaves a peaceful essence

Rosette lips pucker close
As I give you my deepest affection

Laying you down next to my heart
Where you will stay even after we part

Dreaming of a dream that you will never leave
This is our bed time routine

Good night my sweet angel , I love you to pieces.

I take one in the morning,
I take one at night.
Pop one, I pop twice
Poppin memories all night.
Can't move I can't feel
I think once then think twice.
Pop thoughts like "who am I"?
"Where I am? "
"That's a lot !"
*** pills for one guy,
Drinking  as it goes down
I'm so down foreal...

Dang I drop my freakin  pills,
eyes blurred so I lay still....so still
Who am I?
Where am I?
Dang I like these pills