Miura

So I saw her. And she was beautiful. Not like love at first sight, but like love as if we had spent a lifetime together in 3 previous lives. What I like most is the simple fact that she would not be accepted in these times. 29 years ago she was in her prime with a core that drove men wild. 29 years later she would be judged and tried for crimes of hideousness. But that is not what I saw on this night. I saw her inner beauty. I saw her flame, that although now dim, gave me a purpose in life to bring her back to life. The years had been rough on her, but when we touched that all went away. All the labors and tribulations. All the ruggedness and marks left on her body. All the unappreciative demeanor's encountered each and everyday. With one look and one slight touch from my inner being all of her trials were washed away. And mine with hers. I see a new beginning. I see new journeys. I see open roads and new paths that only we can conquer. Together. It has been a long time since I have felt completed. And now I am unstoppable. But I do have tears for another. And although she is just away, I know I will see her again. And when we are a family, there is no territory that will go unconquered. There will be no road that our wheels have not touched. We will know no boundaries. We will have no limits. We will just ride. From sunrise to sunrise. All we will have is one another. In this life and in all others.
  

Life's Print

Birth

Love

Happiness

Hurt

Pain

Disgust

Contempt

Hate

Love

Withdrawals

Passion

Hate

Loneliness

Rebirth

Life

Freedom

Death

Gargling Milk

Headnote:
This should be sang to any beat you have in your mind at this very moment. Also this should be sang to another person male or female. Please do not sing to animals or a family member or even children. If possible play a few strums on a guitar of your liking for added effects.

I want you to gargle some milk
I want you to gargle some milk
Please please gargle some milk
I said please please gargle some milk
I want to watch you gargle some milk
I want to watch you gargle some milk
Will you gargle the milk?
I said will you gargle the milk?

I saw a white girl walking down the street.
And I said to her. What I said to her.

Have you gargled some milk?
Will you please gargle some milk?
Can I watch you gargle some milk?

I saw a white girl sitting on the bus.
And I said to her. What I said to her.


Have you gargled some milk?
Will you please gargle some milk?
Can I watch you gargle some milk?


I saw a hot white cougar mingling at a bar.
And I said to her. What I said to her.


Have you gargled some milk?
Will you please gargle some milk?
Can I watch you gargle some milk?

What I really said was.
Hey baby.
Will you gargle MY milk!



This wholesome melody was inspired by:
www.whitepowermilk.com 

Lost Souls

Out in the world. Searching for life. Lost souls.
Elegant drawings. A smile to die for.
New beginnings. Erased memories.
New emotions. Her hair waving in the wind. A ride.


Beautiful words. Sundresses. Positive energy.
Tequila on her body. Laughter from her lips.
Ridiculous banter. Sunshines instead of darkness.
Wild rebellion. Reckless abandon. An uprising.


I see you in the dusk. I see you in the dawn.
I see your evils and I see your goodness.
But most of all I see you.
Out in the world searching for life.

Annoyed

I awake from a dream like milk from a goat and the first thing I see are lights from all directions. I can’t determine just yet the source but I felt like the wind was beneath my being. Like I was floating and yet my feet were on the ground. When I regain my senses I am allowed to regain my breath. And I smell honey and larkspur. How I know these smells I have no idea. I am conscious. I am alive. That was all that mattered. I had mind and body, but no spirit. When I sold my soul, I specifically remember in the contract that there was a date to be determined. There is no way that date was today. I read the fine print didn’t I? I am annoyed by the lights. I am annoyed by this feeling of relentless abandoned. I am just annoyed. Can I go back to the dream?

A Man and the Ocean

I set sail for what I think will be a trip of the ages. Alone I pack the necessities necessary for survival on these rugged waters. Like a pirate I proclaim my vessel as if I bore it from my womb. I didn't. I stole it. But my reasons are mine and mine alone. My flag flys high above held up only by wind and its own securities. My vessel reponds to my every command and takes me into unchartered territories. I hit wave after wave after wave with crashings felt below deck like a bad out of hell. My peripheral gives me no clues as to where I am going. My compass given to me from a dead soldier is the only guidance I have. I continue to head north. My starbird is ready. I am ready. I head right into the eye. Right into the mouth of madness. Right into where my fate lies. Will I make it out? It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am coming and hell is coming with me.

Day 1

There was a time when i thought I knew what freedom was

I mean freedom still consists of 2 wheels on an open road

But it can be much much more

If we go back a few years and I think about decisions that were made

I don’t have any regrets except two

Now that statement might sound like hypocrisy

But indeed it is not

2 beings went without

2 beings that embody what freedom is

We were separate as well as the same

They did not know

I did not know

BUT….

We bond. Inseparable beings connected through the fiber within us

A form of freedom consists in our actions. Our behaviors. Our words.

Together we set a path. A road not yet taken as it was just created.

Their mannerisms become mine. My mannerisms become theirs.

We form a gang and nobody will ever fudge with us.

But as a gang. We smile. We love. We exist. We live. Freedom.

Today is the aftermath of day 1.

A man apart. Alone without his gang.

I wait.

I cry.

I smile.

It Just Felt Right

It just felt right.

Like nothing else mattered.

Every day was a new day.

Every night was a new adventure.

The sun looked different.

The moon glowed a different hue.

Words used had different meanings.

Articulated sentences were powerful.

The worlds axis hiccuped.

The birds made love differently.

Television was automatically in high definition.

Mistakes were made.

Lies were told.

Hearts were opened to endless possibilities.

Art made sense.

Books could be read from back to front.

Thoughts were formulated effortlessly.

Pain did not hurt.

Tears tasted like lemonade.

People looked differently.

Stars were shooting often.

Skylines were bright and yet vulgar.

Love was felt.

It just felt right.

One Day

They were just words
Waves with no destination
Looking for home
For a homecoming of sorts
Inevitably looking for actions
But he was not to be found
Brothers searching for each other
Long lost but never forgotten
Both on journeys unexplainable
No need to explain
Was not necessary
Brothers just know
Words continues searching
Endlessly with hope
Actions staggered into a fight
A battle that was not his
He does the right thing
He fights for freedom
For the time being
There will be no reunion
Actions cannot hear words
And words cannot see actions
Maybe one day
One day

Tears

What once was beautiful is now destroyed

What once was love is now a consummation of hate

Pieces of life scattered amongst the ashes

On display for all

Whether here or the after world

What once was a smile is now a black lung

Gasping for air with a slow pulse

Pictures of happiness now just ample angst

Retorted conversations full of vulgarity

Mirrors broken in my name

Giving me unfortunate luck for the rest of my life

A slow death

I have tears

Limon+Cello

The lemon was not to be sold.
 It was ripe for its liking and knew that patience was the way to go. It was not crazy nor did it have any delusional thoughts of grandeur. It did not produce nectar nor did it ever want to be associated with honey or pollen or even bees and butterflies. It is thoroughly satisfied with its own mystery. With no place to call home, the lemon knows that with time all good things happen. With its perfect contention with its citric and acids, the lemon migrates the land like a yellow nomad. Searching in solitude for its meaning of existence. The lemon's juices spill not flow. It is rough in its nature. It has its reasons. It doesn't care about minuscule things like shape or taste or that it attacks opened wounds with a vicious tyrannical attack. The lemon knows of its idiosyncrasies and still continues to take its own path. Sure the lemon can be baked and made into an Ade that children love. But the lemon CHOOSES to engage in these extra extra curricular activities. The lemon knows its core is protected by rind and only a fool would challenge the lemon's soul. Even without a place of origin the lemon is a BACA (bad ass citric acid). And when the lemon's day is over, it relaxes to the sweet succulent charms of Limoncello.
Sip my friends. Sip.

Mother

We all come out of a womb
With no thoughts of why or how
We don't even get to choose our environment
Sonetimes its good
Sometimes its bad
Sometimes its very bad
We don't get the option
It just is
But no matter
We are all free
As life happens we begin to make choices
We begin to change the course
Sometimes its bad sometimes its very bad
But other times its grand
No matter how we begin
Its how we end
We all came out of a womb
And we get to choose how we die

Wave Flag Wave

The day was eloquent
The first of fall for a hundred years
The gloom could not last forever
The people would not survive
But their queen was encourageable
A tiny sort with a weave full of hope
Exquisite lady her presence un-beknowth
Dressed in radiance her crown shineth above
A fearless leader first
A fearless warrior second
She arose and fought like a winged seraphin
A battle she won a battle she lost
And as her wounded men lay silent
Her flag waved strong

Ode to Robin

Its been a long time since I've fallen in love with a newscaster, but its happened. Again. I mean the first time was memorable like when the Dark Lord first appeared on Leno. I mean the news was given to me like no one had given it to me before. Almost as if I was a virgin with virgin like bodily fluids. The first time felt true and real. And for the most part it was. A Chuck Woolery love connection. The lips full of words. Full of energon cubes worth of substance. The first time was love at first sight. Love at second sight. And love at eternity of sight. I was complete. And then Dan Rather retired. He left our love like one leaves the country to avoid restitution. I moved on. But now. She has come into my life. Full of hair styles and vitality for life. Full of beautiful bodied snatch hair and melodic retorts. She completes me daily. A newscaster yet more than just that. A queen unbeknowest to all. I would whisper sweet nothings into her elf ears if only I was allowed to save her skin shaffings. Strange?  So what. I love her. I would be her pants while she casted the news. I would wash her panties with my tongue and syrup if given the chance to live life. I would even take her last name should we wed one day. Fuck you Dan Rather. Fuck me Robin Shebotsky.

Dark Ages

Some time ago on a dark desolate path a deal was made with the devil. A deal sealed with fire and stamped with the blood of unforgiving souls. At the time it all made sense. Life is sacrifice. My fate presumed immortal but instead consumed all of its innocence. The world quiet on all fronts with everlasting power at my bequeath. I believe in my decision. At the time. At the time. But it all changed. First the heart. Strong on the front but weak in the end. Full of substance yet lackluster in depth. Then the brain. Regaled in high esteem but turmoiled in truth. Full of wit but eventually dumbfounded. Then the body. Powerful in thought but pruned in reality. A distinguished core full of inevitable frailty. A man made a deal with the devil. And he paid a wage worthy of scripture. A price deemed no sale. A fee equivalent to pi. There is no happy ending here. Revelations is already written. The handshake already made. The price already paid. God be with us and also with you.

Strength

The tissue grows and grows and becomes strong.

Strong enough to take on the world.

It refills from the resources of the earth and sets forth to conquer its next obstacle.

It goes back and forth and round and round until it realizes failure is its only answer. Sometimes it falls, but it always gets back up. Up, down, up, down and in its future it sees results. It feels dominant and almost as if on the cover of Atlas Shrugged. It accepts the principles of sanction of the victim with its own version in which it knows its toleration levels of evil. It drinks from the purities of the oceans and consumes from the trees of the heavens. focus. determination. Up, down, push, pull. It goes and goes with no end in sight. It has goals. It always has.

Good luck tissue. Good luck.