Dear Perfect Girl,

Grounded in the real world

Taking care of herself like you’re rooted in a material one

Your eyes and smile never cease to amaze

But it’s your ambitions that set my heart ablaze

Your laugh puts a smile on my face

That seems to erase and replace

The negative and repetitive

If only for a second

I love our similarities

But our differences make it worthwile

From your taste in music to your sense of style

Because a venn diagram without differences is a circle

And I’d rather go the extra five-thousand two-hundred and eighty feet

To be close to you

Than to already understand most of you

By understanding myself

Dear Perfect Girl,

There are dimes that will do anything for a nickel

And nickels out making dimes

But I want your two cents

And though I may laugh at it

I take it to heart sometimes

Because like a game of monopoly

I don’t want to find myself back at the start

And I don’t really watch chick flicks

But I saw 500 Days of Summer

And you’re my Autumn

To which I’ll be sprung for in the winter

I wear no mask for you

Because I’ve divulged my past to you

For you are presently in my future

And though you may be a feminist I’ll try and be a perfect suitor

Dear Perfect Girl,

You say you’re OCD about some things

But it’s your imperfections that are great for me

And though I’m not sure I’ve met you yet

I dare you to wait for me

Because every day I improve myself

In preparation for thee

And a relationship you won’t forget

I’ll wear knee pads and a helmet

For when the day comes that I’m head over heels

I’ll be able to get up in time to catch you

When you fall in love

Disney taught me to wish on the stars above

And I’ve wished on every star

Thrown a penny in every fountain

And spent every 11:11

Wishing for you

Perfect Girl

"You!" he said
"I like your smile."
I blushed a bit,
"Yours is nice as well"
I wondered if
Perhaps he felt
He could cure me by
Passing me a compliment in the cereal aisle
I suppose I thought
It was worthwile
Since after that
Happy things complied
Inside my head
The pasrtures of happiness
became fertile
And then I thought, for a little while;
kindness between strangers
should go back in style

circles I am

getting smaller maybe

endlessly pouring in myself


the flooding of the dirt that hides the lotus


there is no sense in denying

everything worthwhile

is fragile

The universe that i know contains infinite infinities
The more i travel the more i see and more you think

There's an abyss of abraxas in dylan dog's comics
Here's an enstraged ghost of che on the motorcycle

We made it plausible for the pagat ultimo's elegance sake
We seek for the most Beautiful to crash us like soft waves

The immortal Beauty is the terror for the mortal passangers
The immortal Elegance is shown as an unforgettable life's style

You want the depth, you play games, cast spells, and reinvent
You want to become a persona grata, the gravity ***** you in

Today i thougt how nice is to draw a bit for a change
Today you didn't like to have hollidays from a belief

I have to acknowledge the worthwile sands of time
I have to succumb to universal subconsciousnesses

Mine unimportance is a hanging shall on a tied stallion
Mine thoughst fly high as two falcons toward your star

Thine tea is served with blood, sweat, and entrapement
Thine turtle is a giant alive planet, a colourful mounted

One

Once upon a time we were lovers,
we used to talk to each other lovely and respectful.
Fell into each others arms, hugging deeply,
making the pain of life worthwile for living now.

What happened to you, my little red riding hood?
Did the wolf catch you and bite his fangs into our bond
or was it you who wanted to get bitten, looking for it yourself?

What happened to you, my little red riding hood, please tell me,
so that I can see clearly through this forest of lies
you have planted upon what we were once.

Once upon a time I lived in a fairy tale
with bloomy colours all along my way,
not realizing it could end almost anytime
I let a gloomy wolf fade it into grey.

Some days my heart shines like its sure the sun is its closest rival and oldest teacher,
Other days my brain convinces it that it might as well just call in sick for the day to avoid the echoing pains of nights prior,
On most days though my heart is in a constant argument with my brain,
Maybe not an argument but more of a negotiation, my brain lets my heart wander on a longer leash and play its music a little louder, but once the storm clouds roll in my heart has no choice but to be locked away for the sake of my mental foundations integrity.
Somewhere in the compounds of my body there is a soul that cant get a word in on the dialougues of my heart and brain,
Then again he has no scientific bearing in the world so he holds no worthwile input?
But what if my brain and heart are tool my sould has yet to figure out? Or vice versa? Maybe souls are adaptations and sentience is is just us learning to use those adaptations to our advantage?
Souls cant be just tools or improvements though, they are too cemented and too complex,
Too  raw, unobservable, undescribable, and undeniable.
I just wish there was a way to get all 3 on the same page.
Nothings the same lately and its like my world flipped upside down, and this is me falling out of reality into infinity and watching everything Ive wanted or known pass me bye like lines on a road.
The other day I took some acid and found myself laughing at the fact that we discover medicines and we have politics and science and that we have this curiosity to explore and this hellbent obsession with expansion and growth.
I realized at that moment that there is a simple and absolutely gorgeous futility to everything humans do,
We might cure cancer,
The sun will still blow up eventually,
We may find world peace,
But overpopulation might bite us for that one,
The point is nothing we do can stop the end times, that doesnt mean stop what youre doing and lose all motivation, it just means at the end of the day, were in the can regardless, dont sweat the small stuff and make your moments gleam.

I am becoming pulled apart and sewn together all at once.
Why am I feeling like my heart is now new?
It is a strange emotional thing in my chest.
I cannot put thoughts to words nearly as well as I dream I could.

I’m gonna make you proud of me..

I think you look much more alive in the daylight.
I like how real you become when the sun glints off your smiling face and emphasizes your striking eyes.
You are wonderful.


God is gently pushing me somewhere. I feel that now. I am so excited to arrive there.
He’s disiplining me like mad, though. I’ve been brought to great humility lately, it’s making me think before I speak. it’s like I can’t stop making an a-hole out of myself to save my life. I really hate it.
My mouth will speak a spring of life,
and perhaps my heart is filling with an abundance of something worthwile..

*"Tongue is a flame, let there be Grace.."

Life had been a picture box
Wherein all are painted in monotone
Only what's to be seen are being shown
But go down in mem'ry—rusted love locks.

Everywhere you turn,
the pictures look the same
Still in place as you carelessly aim,
A heart can only discern.

Be it winter, spring, summer or fall,
The external; the internal remains
But a sound, a voice, in my head refrains
Yet again, it's the film's time to roll.

Once, I caught a glimpse of a smile
And wondered what it could be
How can an image look so different to me?
A thought unusually worthwile.

Flowers begun to bloom and blossom
Releasing fireworks into the sky
Could these fingertips reach them if ever I try?
Rainbows cried on a sphere of monochrome.

Caught a glimmer of joy in your eyes, 'twas so cold
as I left on that bus, you were smiling,
though the memory's quite old and the shimmer has dulled,
it's a full-color framed, out of filing.

Sepia pictures more often I hold
old negatives covered in grime
it's a shame, though foretold, that we're all growing old
with limited space and less time.

Despite all the charm which my countenance exudes,
these tattered old blinds can't conceal
soft light filters truth from my cheap platitudes
and the good from the dark stuff I feel.

and just when I've found that my heart's been around
and left beaten, embittered and cold
here's Walter Mitty, no *** in the city
self pity is making me old.

Over there in the closet, a huge bank deposit
I'm saving for something worthwile
been trusting the Lord yet can never afford
that 'single and lovin it' smile.

The clock on wall tells me just where I stand
and it's chime brings the heartache of doom
as the seconds tick by, I can't help but cry
all alone in my heart's old dark room.

Watching my step, I tread deep within
without the desire to save face
I gaze at a skin, done by guilt of that sin
in the light of God's love and sweet grace.

Though my heart is your home I've n'er let You roam
through the passages marked 'Do Not Enter'
they lead to the room where the waft meets the loom
forming poems wherein I am the center.

The fabric you see in that heap seems to weep
burdened down with my aches and my pains
I've asked that you'd heal all this stuff while I sleep
but I wake and the damage remains

Your Spirit reminds me, at home in my heart
how you've taken my sin to the grave
it's your pleasure to clean up, yet I must forgive
and let go of the garbage I save.

Afraid now to look any further for fear
we'll discover the worst yet to come
You tell me to follow, for You hold me dear
since we're no longer two now but one.

Beginning to see how I'd lost all my hope
when I left on that bus in the rain
I forgive him for not being able to cope
without love and the will to sustain.

You Lord, my comfort have been here within
you know how my heart is in shambles
You've rolled back the stone, I'm no longer my own
and you smile though my poetry rambles.

So welcome, my friend, yes it's been quite a while
since we've bathed in the sun and run free
got a mind for preserving your beautiful smile
in my state of the heart gallery!

I love with words, and give strength with silence, connecting with hearts free of attachment, hatred or violence.

Together we roam here in the ether, playing games as God both student and teacher.

A frivolous but worthwile experiment, hugs and kisses telling me the secret, we are not alone here and never were...it's as if your eyes can speak, telling me to reach within and find my soul. Together as one and one as whole.

only the uncomodified is worthwile

I, on and off, catch myself asking why
and hushing my worries by guessing: 'just try',
which fails to answer the question so wry,
what are we doing and does someone know why?

People have told me to just go along,
whatever happens, the bad makes you strong.
Others compared, saying: 'you have it sweeter
than most who are born and early on greet her.

Many have said:
'please, just go to bed'.
But that's where I cry:
'Thoughts, please, tell me why!'.

I reckon to crack on ain't no full-time solution,
there's many more worries, like death or pollution.
And sometimes my guess is: 'it's goals I should seek,
to chase after change, even just for a week.'

The passing of time, more delightful when doing,
asides the asks loved and the asks worth their booing.
It may easily be, it differs for many
or for some we don't know, there isn't even any.

Now when the asking is on,
I need it less gone.
When the asking is not,
I'm amused by the thought:
I'm probably doing
something worthwile.
And the 'no question, no bluing'
alone makes me smile.

Even if blurry, it all has it's aim,
there's just no instructions to life's little game.
Sometimes you ask: 'How do I live up?'
sometimes you reply.
They both have a purpose, so please do not give up
on asking the why.