Spaghetti condors and
Mango vultures,
Gobstop gumbo;
Velociraptors in the Bayou, and
Doves made of mildew.
Tell me, is it all
Getting old?

I'm sure the phenomenon is
Far wider-spread than
At any other time throughout history.
The want to have been born,
Decades or years before,
And I think it's easily attributable.
Inundated with knowledge
It is hard to come to some consensus
Among peers,
Likewise it is difficult
To be in a situation you'd rather not
Able not only to conceive
But receive, every scenario you could think of.
Many of which would be the least bit better than the reality currently ascribed

Birds of a feather,
On an isle of ladders;
Here now, together.
Climb to nowhere,
That just gets ever higher;
One way up, straight and narrow.
Rain pours in,
Maelstrom showers;
Prometheus cowers.
Overhead, stars twinkle;
And at least the view is beautiful

I wounded myself
With what cuts you
To see if you would notice, that
You're not alone.
To see the world through your view, that
I might better understand you,
I lost myself
To see how to make it
Back onto the path.
What I saw;
No person was too far gone
That made love their epitaph.

Don't stop walking, the path will appear before you;
Love will remedy all your pain if you keep your heart open.
It's not about what we think or feel, it's what we know.
So, surround yourself with good folks
Surrender, and just go with the flow

I see a brother in every man,
But some men's egos need to be pet,
If sir suits him.
But what is there
More greater a term of endearment,
Besides father,
Than that which I utter
And wholeheartedly, in earnest, offer?

Why people see potential in me
When I feel I am so empty,
And unworthy of warmth,
I cannot conceive

How fortunate I can claim to be
Of the love I have received
That has been held in reserve
For far too many

And it starts with you and I,
Cause I've got love to share
And you can help yourself
Till you've got enough,
Cause I care

If you need a hand,
That's something I can lend
If you walk shoeless
You can have the ones I wear
Forgo crumbs, break off a piece of my bread

What price is too high, for a just world that's fair?

Dull ruts and periodic lulls, cast
Iron wrought.
A life of sea salt;
Choking on ocean foam, walking
On rusty bones
Sifting through ashes.
It's all growing old

Call me an animal,
Don't stand between me
And a fresh cut of meat

Hard to believe, we're the same mammal
In a stand-off, with one who bleeds
But not like me

Of that same air
Our lungs take in, we both breathe in
Scents of a different breed

**** your homogenies
Don't need a lecture on my biology
And you can keep your philosophy
If it comes from a book riddled with prophecy

Wicked kind of dichotomy.
In a country that pushes for peace
But funds war,
Who is it for?

Not the ones fighting
Not the ones dying