An oblique shoe string
Hangs from a power line
knotted through
the wrong holes

A baby carriage on
the sidewalk
just left out
in the cold

a golden autumn
November tree
sheds her last leaf
she weeps and she mourns

nothing left
to be solved
these puzzles
make me sick
pieces are rotted mold

when you put them
together
its a lonely kid
the letters blank
ink pens run
out of code

The apartment
I live in is still the
Bloodiest brick red

stained relationships
I neglected
Its a splattered
picture on my white wall

Three wolves
each take turns
trying to ******* down

i guess these children
stories held
Some sort truth to them
after all

I just stand tall
like the effiel
tower im
builts for
world affair

Im was just hoping
for this morning
to be a symbol
of peace

listen for
a silent noise
a whisper
a vendor yelling
in the street

but its just loud
its violent creatures
and its laying in my
bed next to me

shh..
Don't speak loudly
And listen to the ground
So much to say and a lot to do before we die
Would you even know a meaning or two
Of the meanings of life ?
The soul and the ground
They say shhhh
And listen to the old ones alive
They came along time ago from the ground
And they know how to walk on the grass
And how you should walk down and just watch the sky
Do you even know how to walk along the oceans
With your beloved wife?
I can see your soul tearing up by those eyes
Trying to speaks quietly but you just dont know how.

There is this scream;
a voice that is loud,
but often incoherent,
yet powerful.
The walls of my mind echo
this scream
and pages are filled
with lousy reproductions.
For it is delayed
and smoothed out.
The raw shrillness
stays hidden within.

We are the children
Of a rebellion of the frightened
We are a sound
that will not be silenced
We are the children
Of a thousand screams so strong
We are a fire
that has been growing for so long
We are the children
Who have to be grown tough
We are an echo
Stand your ground and say enough
We are the children
Who want to grow up

And make you proud
We want to make you proud
For we are your children
And that should be enough

in one of my dreams,
I was a witch.
burning .
at the stakes.
prodded by pitchforks.
stabbed with daggers
behind my back.
the talking was loud.
their hateful eyes were louder.
then i woke up
realizing the thin line
between dreams
and consciousness.
it almost made no difference.
ive seen those eyes somewhere.
of those who want to
burn me at the stakes ;
stab me with daggers
behind my back.
always been wanting to
watch
me
fall.
darling, I am a witch
you could not burn.

Your eyes say it all

You don't need to speak

They say every word

Their meaning so deep

So cold as ice

Yet they glow with fire

They show determination

And desire

Your eyes yell and shout

Speak so loud

They are so vibrant  

Yet you are silent.

At times, it sounds like crowds are cheering, when I'm sitting in a silent room.

With my lower jaw working on a merger with my upper. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Until I hear the silence.

In through one ear
Out the other
I'm not talking about sounds
I'm talking about flies
And they're so loud