Im alive
but I feel im not living,
atleast not  for my self
I live to serve
and die to feel

I always wanted to go
to run free
like a leaf in the wind
but I sit in place like a flower
only wanted for visual appeal
thrown to the side once I wilt

my own body is
not only mine
he told me
'I need you alive'

When I first heard that
It sounded sweet
like a twisted condolance
but now I see
how my life is a commodity
some thing to be had

My mother made me with
a servantful heart
one that caused me to feel
it was always my fault

I stayed up late to raise babies
and got up early to learn how
to get my self out of the situation
because a 'woman is always more vulnerable'

My mothers own words
that meant
for me to succeed as much as a man
I would need to work my life away.

the light bursts through, glowing
not scattered or winnowing in
the grasses are thick, and even taller still
the creek itself is quiet, but there are children playing there,
among the ticks and cats, birds and gnats
and here, i realize i am more alive
than i have ever been

She probably had a smile, indeed, I unzipped her body bag.
Yet, she never once smiled alive.
However, she loved saying, “I thought about smiling; maybe someday?”

There is no need to rush. Stop stressing around. Start looking at this very moment because this is where you truly are. Now. Alive.
This breath is needed for the next years to come. Let's give this breath our attention. Let's stay present with it.

Point A, on any taken time, in any common sense now,
linear thinking lets us time
our letter to word to phrase to line, step
by stepping, thinking later
now, using the Isaiah method, listening… thinking, then

perceiving thumb and fingers functioning thoughtlessly,
left hand leading with qwerty
uiop following from the right hand, neither caring
that one does more work, because e is so common.

-------------
Enterprising
We "apprehend" many truths which we do not "comprehend"
[Richard Trench, "On the Study of Words," 1856]

As intelligent creatures, created word users fabricate wads
of mental connective issues, suitable for framing,
after skeining
   a hank of yarn,
      a spinner's helper child winds the clew.

Familiar incandescence, lamps from by gone world,
time as was for so very long,
if you take your leisure and spend most of it
in contemplative state, time spending, collecting

idle words left wasted and useless as ways and means
necessary before memory- slips away, as seems it does,
naturally, after memes made by imitation, mocked ritual,

laughing at danger of ever after holy hell, mocking right real

realm of sovreign gnosis recognition, right hand
most of us throw with, due to a modification,

a very long time ago, a dominant meme gene, ius, just
a word we use, justice… true just is, except for us, we
act X or Y
on instinct, if
we even once played serious hide and seek,
as the hidden.

We, the literary contemplative weform, reader and me…
     we think let us learn collectively,
we cohorts mixed and fused,
     we believe… leave us learn
we say let us, never say leave us,
    we hold such speech substandard, and
we insist, since the program began, in 1954,
    we sort according to scientific anonymous…

Did we try to make today just fine?

No Child Left Behind… {LaHaye… hehehai-}
ESSA… keep it up, live to learn, have a reason,

should one be asked, confident, have a reason, know.

What difference does it make to you, if I walk away,
none.
The truth is this is an imaginary tie, we think away,
call it music, think its words, we twist
to tie an old liar's joke to the idea we became
peace takers peace users make think become
thunk
peace too far past understanding
to leave be so, why some seem so
easy to let be past comprehension… gaseous we

I'm glad that it was me.

When the moon turned dark
And you didn't know what you wanted to be
When you hadn't left your mark
I put the blame on me

When the scale started to tilt
And blood was all I could see
I watered your flower to not wilt
And kept mine away from the sea

In the silence between heartbeats
There's a loyalty I must keep
No matter how much I bleed
No matter how much I weep

And when you cause me pain
It means nothing
Because although you understand me
I guess that means something

If I hadn't been blamed
For something I didn't do
If you had been blamed instead
Who knows what you would do

I will carry this pain from mountain to fjord
If it means you will succeed
If it means that you are alive today
Then I know it was meant to be.

I'm glad that it was me.

I want to breathe in the field,
Where the wind is warm,
And drink the air deeply.
It’ll be so awesome!

I want to lie in the grass,
Give up to the sun bliss,
And fall subtly asleep
In the shade of trees like in a kiss.

I want to inbreathe more deeply
The honey odour of flowers.
I want to hug the air
And be in there for hours.

I want to make it true!
I need it for being alive!
I'll hug the air! I’ll kiss the sun
And maybe I will revive!

I beg you teach me how to laugh alive.
It seems as if I've tightly forgotten.
But, please, only no sadness for the past.
All that I had before, is left out and rotten.

I beg you teach me to believe in miracles.
It seems as if I've wholly got stale.
But, please, only no fairy-tales and quodlibets.
You make them up so poorly and fail.

I beg you teach me not to cry by no means.
My tantrums are being not much help at all.
Yes, I'm a girl, and we're not forbidden.
But it's in vain. I've checked it all in whole.

I beg you teach me how to get old steadily.
I realize that it's about my time.
I promise not to argue or resist noway.
My life was generous to me just anytime.

If this's the case, I will continue moving.
My feet will lisp along the ground bit by bit.
And when I have no force at all to trudge behind,
I'll simply sit under the pine and hug my knees.

In the westward sky is a crow's clear caw.
A visceral proof of life.
That there joyously exists more than just our strife.  
It soared mystically deep into the baby blue
and fluffy white blissful unknown.  
In the north sky
gathers a small ****** of crows,
with their chaotic excitable moan.  
A folktale goes that the crows congregate
to hover and decide another crow's fate.
Place a scavenger of death in a vast cheerful sky.
You realize a great many days are void of a why  
They are just proof of life.  
So feel alive!