He Will Talk

Talking to be heard,
hoping that he will,
he'll talk to passers-by
or those standing still.
He will talk about nothing
all the daylong
hoping no one notices
how often he is wrong.
He will talk of any
subject brought to the table,
his arguments often
nonsensical and unstable.
He will talk to
the first person he sees,
not once caring of their
interest level slightly.
Whether you ignore him
or decide to fully engage
the conversation continues
as you often feel enraged.
No matter what is said,
he will continue on,
raving and ranting up a storm
until all patience is gone.
While he is so oblivious to the obvious
scenario at hand,
they all now know to run
when approached by this man.

The Answers You Don't Want

I'll write you a poem
with all of the answers
to the questions you have
only to provide more cancers.
I'll tell you now
all you want to know
only to cause you to burn
with riddles that will go
on and on within
the brain that circles around
that which it can't control
but that which continually surrounds.
You will ever ache
for the knowledge that escapes
your grasp and your capacity
that fails to equate.
The answers will present to you
what you say you need
but that will only further
stray you and impede.
You can ask for what
you truly want and covet
but you will never manage
to get enough of it.
Only when you realize
letting go to be the solution
can you gain the answers you crave
in your soul-searching revolution.

What Can It Do?

Can it clear the bare cut shade?
Can it clear each and every blade?
Can it fit into the smallest of places?
Can it squeeze the tallest of faces?
Can it bend the strongest metal?
Can it do better than settle?
Can it live up to expectations?
Can it fulfill its declarations?
Can it come through when needed?
Can it ever be defeated?
Can it do what was promised?
Can it avoid being thoughtless?
Can it truly perform?
Can it transcend the norm?
Can it beat the opponent?
Can it propose several components?
Can it be all that's necessary?
Can it do better than be secondary?
Can it do that of which we need it to be capable
in a time when that is all that is acceptable?

Mystery

Too abstract to not see,
too obvious to know,
too incorrect to be wrong
but too deep to be low;
too mind bogglingly complicated
in its pure simplicity,
too difficult in its compliance,
too defiant in its complicity;
too deep in its shallowness,
too weak in its strength,
too short in its height
and too long in its length.

Too much to handle
in the thought it throws,
too planted in soil
for the seed that grows;
too many processes
ongoing in the process
to avoid the inevitable
as it can only regress;
too soft when hardening,
too smart in ignorance,
this will forever be
too focused in its divergence.

Too many words
for anyone to follow,
a message meant to be heard
is one no one will ever know.

Why I Help Her

I don't help her out of guilt.
I don't help her because I must.
I don't help her out of
a misplaced lack of trust.
It's not that a sense
of paranoia overtakes me.
It's not that potential
self-sufficient independence shakes me.
It's not that I have to
help and be there for her.
It's that I love her so much
I will help her with any endeavor.
It's that the love I have
will overflow in any possible
way one could imagine
because it is improbable.
Even I could not dream
I would love or even care
for my little girl this way,
the one who is always there.
She always has a smile
when I have a frown.
She always has words
of encouragement when I'm down.
She always picks the right
moment for a hug
or a sweet "I love you, daddy"
from my lady bug.
She is always there
for me no matter what.
The question is not why help her;
the question is how could I not?

The Still Never-Wrong

The rant continues
as my blood is now boiling.
His lies get twisted
as his statements are recoiling.
He continues on his way
as if his claims were right,
his pompous posturing continuing
throughout this declaration-filled night.
No matter how wrong
he may be told he is,
that will not stop him or slow
the rate at which his target's missed.
The discovery and conclusion
I this evening made
is that this game of his
has now been overplayed.
I am done listening,
catering and entertaining
this childish mode of communication
that needs a quicker disappearance of feigning.
I can't and won't stand
present to the delusion
that is daily forced upon
me in its intrusion.
I am walking away
from that which I can hear no more,
something I should have done
far too long before.

Accidental Recipient

The frustration comes out
on an unsuspecting innocent.
The unintended target
becomes the accidental recipient.
The one attempted helper
who often threw assistance
is now the utter victim
who has an acceptable grievance.
Though he not always
succeeds in his mission
he ever rarely seems
to deserve such mistreatment.
He always has the best
of every possible intention
while his purest effort can
never be called into contention.
His truest passion available,
something so many today lack,
is the one attribute most
evident when one comes in contact.
No matter the present circumstance
he finds himself in
he discovers a way out
yet again and yet again.
A persevering spirit
too hard to find today,
he is the epitome of optimistic
in a most contagious way.
The spirit that will never quit
though the thought may creep about,
he will be around yet
for the long haul through ups and downs.
The one and often only
constant in this changing world,
with a brow resiliently unchanging
the reputation and accolade he has earned.

Growing Disappointment

The delicate age
that grew with rage
that would mellow later
to watch youth become a traitor;
the shortened height
that grew with might
as they became tall
yet deaf as all;
the wisdom started
as nothing to be regarded
until it grew in ways
that would be marveled at for days,
yet vision would then narrow
to see a squandering grow
as talents left
filled with a giant cleft.

The brains dim
as the future is grim
when the wrong turn is made
as dreams forever fade;
wasted chances
in falsified romances
of actions not worth while
that would bring only guile.

A Forgotten Truth

They search for it high.
They search for it low.
They look around them
for answers to easily flow.
They hope the problems
will immediately be solved
while they look so wrongly
in lies that cause life to dissolve.
They think they know
better than anyone
what the answers needed
are always for them.
They do not seek counsel
for what they already know
as their delusions do
deeper and deeper grow.

They need to seek truth
that isn't just what they like,
something that may test
both their will and their might.
They need to reach out
of the comfort zone in which
they have always manged to live
without a question or an itch
to learn what others
seem to be picking up on
as they should be yearning
for a new day's dawn.
They are content to reside
in a fantasy land created
by their own infected minds
needing truth so belated.

They need a new grip
and a renewed sense of reality.
They need to take a sip
of something stronger than their coffee.
They need to know better
than the world made by their minds.
They need to read the letter
that brings them back to the times
where they could trust their own
thoughts within functioning brains.
They need to quit being the drones
that their bodies are in vain.

A voice within their own
establishment so tightly guarded
must break through the barriers
and speak to the disregarded.
It must speak both the truth
and the lies the delusional present.
It must be the one voice
that can, both sides, represent.
This voice must speak wisdom
to the minds that can hardly understand,
yet do it in a manner
that can be heard by the distant man.
The voice must rise up
and rally the clan one time
to refute the lies they have spread
and cling to within their crime.
This voice must now
bring together the divided souls
and save them from the brink
before they are but a story to remain untold.

Yahweh's Return

The heavens open up
to display a glory
about which we all read
but couldn't wait to see.
The clouds so white
and the sky so pure,
what was once based on faith
is now proven to be for sure.
The boom in the coming
of the heavily anticipated Yahweh,
tears of joy can flow
in this, the happiest of all days.
His arms open up
as if to welcome His children home
from a crusade from which
they can finally rest and heal wounds.
The promises made
by a Jesus so many doubted,
the fulfillment in prophecies
are too numerous to be counted.
He returns with a flash,
pausing time for all non-confessing,
as believers follow Him
up into the heavens with their blessing.
Years of faith for some
while just mere minutes for others,
together they will travel as one
on their last trek as they become brothers.
The world just moments
away from its inevitable end
we ascend with our Lord
as all of our brokenness, He does mend.
We look at each other
with utter excitements
as the sheer joy
overwhelms all senses.
We arrive at home
for the very last time
as all hopes and dreams
come true in God's heaven, so sublime.

Consequential Lies

The coward you are
hurts my soul.
You tell us all
that you found the holes
in the story that is
as pure as Christ,
something you also
dispute as lies.
You say our belief
is a sham we may
or may not know
is the lie we lay.
You throw out ridiculous
hypotheses to scare
others of standing
for what they care.
You gather statements
from others so lost
to push your agenda
of lies that eternally cost.
You try to stumble truth
with a different argument
than the one at hand
that you ignore so constant.
You try to tangle
others in their lies
to hide your very
own deceptive disguise.
You spout your opinion
as if it is fact
with as much lack of proof
as that which you attack.
You rail against a faith
because of the hate
found in your heart
that you use to bait.
You do this all
without an explanation why
and without the knowledge
that one day we all die
and have an eternal Father
to whom we must answer
and report on our lives
for both the good and the cancer.

There is still hope
for all of us to turn
from that which will cause
our souls to burn
and though it may not sound
as if I care
I truly hope and pray
that Satan does not take you there.

World of Limitations

The fear keeps most in,
a fear of the outside world.
The world they know nothing of,
as most don't want to know.
The masses are happy
to live in the bubble
but one soul must wonder
if the dream is worth the trouble.

He does not cower
to the potential prospect
of the danger ahead
that he may erect.
He knows that anything
out there could be better
than living this life
strapped with a fetter.
He cannot be trapped
within walls of imaginations
as the hidings presented
seem to point to damnations.
Others can be content
living their lie
but he will not
idly stand by.
He will fight
for dreams outside
of a comfort zone created
by a panel under a corporate disguise.

A dreamer's world
is what they seek
but cannot be found
by an onlooker's view so bleak.
It takes creativity
and the passion
to drive through the surface
in a forceful fashion.
It takes a will
unmatched by others
to expose the lies
told to one another,
yet this exposure
is not for the sake
of proving the establishment wrong
despite their agendas so fake.
The reason this dreamer
must uncover the lies
is to prove
to his own eyes
that there is so
much more to strive
to accomplish
while still alive.
This dreamer will
continue the pursuit
to live a dream
others count as moot.
The drive will not
any time soon be finished
until this dream
is a reality accomplished.

Mind Trick

The trick the mind
plays on the senses
tears down walls
and all defenses.
A disease not caught
at the present time
is feared to be in the future
by what some call a paranoid mind.
A cough heard
both here and there
that makes stand up
the back of the neck's hair.
Worries rush
over hands being washed
with a preemptive strike
to fight germs until squashed.
The mere thought that passes
through the mind
takes up all
available time.
Brain power drained
in an effort to win
the bout that's here
to be fought again.
A memory saved
of the previous war
that took energy
and much, much more.

The thought on which
my mind is stuck
will dominate the night,
as is my luck.
The constant obsession
that gives me health
eats away
at my mental wealth.
With nothing left
in a mind driven crazy
I pray for an emptiness
in a mind craving to be lazy.

The Storm

The wind blows
as nature turns.
The storm brewing
has come to earth.
The quick hit
of rain's fall
begins to pour
and cover all.
A warning failed
to come to some
that has now caused
panic to overcome.
People stare
out of windows
as the wind
continually blows.
Flashing lights
are all that's seen
through a storm
that rains in sheets.
Lights flicker
as people scare
with lightning present
in the air.
Thunder rolls
to shake the viewers
as brave ones drop
to fewer and fewer.
Fear hits hard
as does the weather
to affect people
who wished it was better.
Heaven's fury
won't let up
until the precipitation
overflows the cup.
With running rampant
and patience thin
waiting is all
that can be done by men.

The Runner

Running in the dark
to get away from the light,
he runs to catch his breath
as he loses it in the cold night.
The stress melts away
in the peace presented
to him by the silence of black
and the hobby not-so-well represented.
He has no jacket
for cars to spot his position
because that would defeat his purpose
and cause yet another imposition.
He wants to be left alone
to himself and his own accord
no matter if there is danger
from the flying cars that are floored.
This evening's brisk run
is not about safety,
it's not a question
or even a maybe.
This exercise being done
is about the feeling
this solitary man gains
from this healthy dealing.
With precaution no concern
and others of no contention
there is no reason
for any type of prevention.
He will run until he can't
as he will do so uninhibited.
He will run with a passion
others only dream they could exhibit.

Ode to Cannon

Peace, tranquility,
waves rising
with the swell of strings
in a force surprising
yet calming
to the ears
as the continuum
eases any fears.
Worries melt,
washing away
to give credence to
beaches of optimistic days.
Wise words
not spoken
in language we often use
for communication often broken,
but rather presented
in played notes
that evoke emotion
hard to imagine man wrote.
The facts stand
as truth hits
through stanzas and bars
that so strongly sit
and resonate here
within souls
that needed more than anything
to hear what can now make them whole.

Your Own Savior

Don't strive for perfection
because that is not what moves.
Don't reach for the sky
because that cannot improve
the serenity that can be found
in the vulnerability in which relatability
hides at all times that you doubt yourself
and your own merit and reliability.
When you feel words are jumbled
is when your honesty and candidness
are at the height of their effectiveness
and ability to move a heart away from brokenness.
The times you feel you are not heard
are when ears perk up the most,
when each and every spoken verb
hits the drums of each and every host.
When you feel the most like your voice is silent
is when the ones who need you come
from the woodwork in which they were hiding
until the right time and the right voice would summon.
Their inner-most thoughts of self-consciousness
that were thought to always be present
have gone away in favor of the words you spoke
and because of the effort and time you spent.

You will have the moments when you think
that no one out there cares
and you will have the moments when you think
there is nothing on the horizon but despair
but just remember in those moments
of your deepest and darkest thoughts
that you have brought others from the brink
as you will bring your own heart back, no matter how distraught.

Rain on a Sunny Day

Rain on a sunny day
blows my mind in every way.
The increase in pour
comes more and more.
The panic sets in
as the thought within
my mind does grow:
did I roll up the window?
The effect of seats
wet with mildew that reeks
to ruin an interior that costs
too much to manage the loss.
A moment in which
my brain does glitch
forgetting what I accomplished,
giving way to doubts of what I did.
I suddenly seize
as my senses freeze,
not remembering any
of the tasks I completed.
The fear of failure
caused by inclement weather
coupled with my propensity
to forget increases the intensity
on my pounding heart
which causes me to dart
out of the doors
in this panic that attacks even more.
With arm in air
to protect face and hair
from the rain pounding down
and falling around
I arrive at the car door
unseen from within this building, this store,
to see all of my fears
instantly dissolve and disappear.
The anomaly that brought
a fear that fought
my common sense
disappears to give rest to my defense.

An Illusion Exposed

Come without saying hello
as your exit is a suit to follow.
Act as if I am not here
out of nothing but fear.
Pretend as if we
are nothing just to make it easy
because that saves explanation
of your obvious consternation.
I can't know what occurs
in that stubborn head of yours
but I am sure to discover
a disease like no other.
The selfishness that rules
in a game you played me as your tool
does not seem to allow
me to carry on as your pawn now.
What you once knew
can now be forgotten by you
as the ugly truth you hid
came to light with a kick.
Now the illusion you pushed
is cracked like a wood-handled brush
splintered from the deceit you insisted
within a world I will finally have resisted.

Dreams So Vivid

At night when eyes close
the pallet changes and imaginations impose
their piece and their will
to take an idea home to drill.
The dark disappears and rainbows bring cheer
as absence of light brings forth inspirations so clear.
Dreams so vivid and scenes so real,
this fantasy world has the feel
of reality attached to every breath,
something so scary and yet so easily can refresh.
Experiences in this world
that are fully under my control
with consequences so chosen
in a time I can make frozen,
manipulation my option
to bend the world around to my notion,
this world is what I choose it to be
depending on where my mind wants to take me.
Whether a hardship in store
just to prove the strength I have is more
powerful than a challenge thrown
or a surprise that was actually known,
or perhaps an opponent who lies
down for me as they stare at the skies
to allow me to conquer in the battle
that could never have me rattled,
no matter what the situation
or the scenario chosen to get me to the destination,
I have the tapestry here
to decide what is presented and how clear
the subject or topic I want to confront
can come to me or influence me in my hunt.
No matter what else is true,
my mind's control is one of the few
truths upon which I can rely,
something in which I revel every night I close my eyes.

Blindsided

You think you have it
until it slips through your fingers.
You try to brush it off
but the pain lingers.
Excitement flows abundantly
until the news breaks
at which point joy's drought
begins to drain optimism's lake.
Happiness that hours ago
overflowed and could not be contained
now only has remnants
of positive thoughts that remain.
Hopes for the future
that we never had before
are now dashed from our minds
as our hearts seem to have shut their door.
With only each other
to turn to in moments like now,
we try to pick up the pieces in what inexplicably happened somehow.
We thought we had it
until it slipped through our hands
as now our heads drop down
and our minds must establish a new plan.

Ingenuine Internal Schizophrenic

You can throw words on paper
and call it what you want.
You can even make them rhyme
or choose not to do that.
You can decide what you have to say
is important enough to hear.
You can share it with everyone,
or at least those who will lend an ear.
You can listen to music
and be briefly moved.
You can then tell the world
of the transcendent moment while looking to be approved.
You can pretend your world
is something you can control.
You can attempt your manipulation
as if destiny was something you could hold,
but you cannot fool yourself
as if to plant an idea in your own head.
You cannot lie to yourself
and expect you will genuinely believe fiction over fact instead.
Eventually you must come to grips
with reality and the fact you must be authentic
or you can go on with the lie that will consume
and spit you out as you go on, the internal schizophrenic.

Much Needed Dip

I sit out here
and brave the heat.
My body's condensation
sticks me to my seat.
I lie here briefly
to soak up the sun.
My body surprisingly enjoys
the baking being done.
I make the unusual
decision to take a dip
as my body eases in
to take its own sip
of the pool so bright,
blue as a summer's sky,
as my body's heat retreats
and I am no longer dry.
The water feels great
for the moment fleeting
until its cooling effect and
the crossed line to cold have their meeting.
I know when I exit
the pool's premises permanently
I will be reheated back
like the leftovers ready to be eaten fervently,
but the risk does not compare
to the reward of warming light,
like in the midst of a winter's
long, dark, sleepless night.
I hop out of the body
that cooled me when needed
but now realize I can't win
as I am again overheated.

The Infection (A Singular Thought)

A habit long ago
thought to be long gone,
a negative thought to be turned
to the beginning of a promising dawn,
this singular thought
that once solely possessed my mind
was one I could not let go
even if it was something I tried not to find.
I tried to run from it
only to discover cowering would not prevail.
I attempted to dismiss it as normal,
a thought that was futile and surely did fail.
Counsel told me often
that it would catch up with me in time.
I knew its detrimental nature
was sure to aid in this undoing of mine.
I was not sure how it would
occur in what seemed to be painless,
that it could tear my very fabric
and mar that which was seemingly stainless.
My thoughts of naivety
that once served as my shield
are now the worst enemy
of the protector on my soul's battlefield.
A struggle that began
so many years ago
was swept under the rug
allowing the emotional cancer to grow.
Never being the proactive carrier
and never taking the precautions needed,
I have allowed the disease within
to take me to within inches of being defeated.
With a deep breath to take
as I peer over the cliff on which I stand,
I have this last split second
to make a final demand:
I must catch my balance
as I turn my body and soul around
to face the infection that I have allowed
to penetrate and surround;
I must utilize the assistance
and aid at every turn to combat
the sickness I have coddled for years
that has caused my soul to fall flat;
it is now that the turnaround
must come to fruition
or else this heart, soul, and body
will succumb to this evil condition's inflictions.

The Battle's Epic Course

The silence is deafening
and a murderer, too.
The avoidance is childish
and entirely undue.
The squabble unneeded
that came so quickly
like the tropical storm
leaving lands desolate and sickly,
there was a breakdown
in the amount of information
given in the lowest
level of communication.
With words butting heads
like rams at war
these two animals collided
with a ground-shaking force.
The argument raged on
with insults crossing like swords
that were so sharp that they would
draw blood while death was headed towards.
Casualties not a worry
for warriors in the field,
these two wills will wage
and will never yield.
The fury found
in both fighters' minds,
the time to apologize
seems too lost in time.

The two will sit silent
while they stare at the walls
knowing this fight so epic
was strong enough to conquer all.

Waiting

The multitudes gather
as the crowds surround.
This place is packed
with not an open table to be found.
The quote is long,
whether party large or small.
The hour is too much
for some to stay at all,
yet others are willing
to stick it out.
The wait matters not
for that isn't what it's about.
They come for atmosphere
and a friendly smile.
Whether they visit daily
or only visit once in a while
they are loyal to the core
and that will not waver.
There is no other place
that, more, they can favor.
They will wait the hour
and even some on top.
Whether cold or hot,
with a jacket or until sweat drops,
they don't mind being
pushed to the outside
as they are only briefly relegated
to the elements in which they hide.
It will all be worth it
when the name is called
as the pager goes with a flash and a buzz
as their patience pays off along with their gall.