Nothing comes easy my friend
Nothing.
But God is here,
Or my delusions of God are here,
And they are sweet enough
To passify me through
I am not the good captain
Waves of blasted ocean
knocking crews of sense overboard
All that are left are navigators
with no real control over the boat
subject to the fury of a fickle sea
Two five year old boys joked and tore down the slope
Their screams stung at the top of their lungs
Oncoming traffic brims, coming close to killing them
No lesson learned, no parent concerned
Out they rode again
Him and his cheery friend
On their little bikes
Screaming and the like
challenging fate to take their lives
Not in awe neither in surprise
Again there they wait by their boats.
Packing them with everything they'll need.
There's always something missing.
What is missing in you.
in me?
And what exactly are we crossing water for?
Can I replace what is missing?
We never feel ready.
Everything is rented, nothing is owned!
But I need ownership.
I need to exclude some.
Again there they wait packing their bins with food.
All will be gone if it capsizes over the flooded land.
Who am i to question them?
My house floats.
little waves hit my footstep.
Like white lies I tell myself.
Get myself through the day.
They'll get themselves over the deluge lakes.
And moor themselves once again in my vicinity.
Movement even when it appears so redundant is good.
It freshens the mind in this windless flooded land.
And when the waters recede I will plant and build.
And again there they will wait rolling up there belongings.
looking at my dreams and laughing themselves silly.
And I won't tell them they are trapped.
I won't tell them there's something better.
I'll let them cross the waters and seek great nothings.
One day they'll come back and pay tribute.
If they don't drown.
Make your way
There is space in the world
There are roads to take
Curiosities to understand
The world has your kind of food
Chaos you said you consume
You can sustain yourself here
And walk with me your helper
Come through and save the insisters the imposters
Those that force themselves to conflict
They fail themselves miserably
You could tell them to be still
There are so many crazy and sad ones
Lost out here in the noise
In the sleepless nights
Looking for peace wheere there is none
Sometimes peace is not the medicine
Sometimes chaos is food
The cross eyed dog
A four year old male
sleeps all day
a quiet creature
only barking when someone arrives
then back to sleeping
snoring and cozy nothings
a lazy old
The furr over dresses him
overheating him and dazing him
Life is a slow stumble over to the food bowl
a few laps of the water bowl
A few heavy pants
A shake of the coat
A glance at the owner
And back to the rug
Punishment is admiration,
Don't admire.
Because of the arrogance,
the need to be humbled.
Because I speak with certainty,
when there is none.
Because I am wishy-washy,
offer no value.
Don't pretend to be stunned.
Because I am narcissistic,
self-involved, ego run,
and deserve abandonment.
Because I am secretly a greedy one
and want the world beneath my thumb.
Because people are so loyal,
yet I dream of treachery.
Because I fantasize about killing,
about being a despot.
Because I can never simply be.
I ask for more than what I've got.
I am dirty.
I am worthless.
Tell me.
I'm a sluggish man
Look at me move across the pavement
Exhaustion is the only feeling I carry within
every minute a struggle
I creep up on my curb
my joints inflammed in agony
I have not the strength to drag myself to my feet
I am shattered I am crippled
I crawl for I have no power to walk
I am waiting for that hand
For a crutch or support
How pathetic I look on the road
Laying here on the steet like lame begger
But I'm not Like a begger, I am a begger
And beggers cannot be choosers so i will recieve what they give me
I will be grateful for the sun, the smell of hot tar, the pity in the pedestrians eyes
