Youth

Moments spent in defiance
opposing all under the sun, cursing at the night in fits of sleepless rage
with blinkered eyes unable to appreciate the grandiosity of stars above
a one track mind galloping forward gathering proof of absurdities subjected to humanity

Preaching pamphlets, highlighting the evident
atrocities in their darkest hour in need of centered attention
sign over here, join me over there
and together we shall overcome the burden of our enemies

Tragedies, one more horrific than the next
worthy causes to picket
to make a difference in some small way
only to go home with the signs lowered at the end of the day

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Image

When the art of life is stripped
Torn into pieces, shredded to bits
Waiting for time to patch together the fragments into whole once again

A giant imperfection, built from old
now pieced together for a novel representation from the same canvas
Creased, wrinkled, hanging on to the illusion of sense

Soon for the cracked art to take form,
the old veins blending into the image of what once was
for the creation of a new picture

Alone

Witness myself in the great well of loneliness
the magnitude of time spent alone
to think and think again
to hash out an old series of thought and replace existing theories

An unfinished idea
no longer a work in progress
a sequence of solitary words
now a paragraph in discourse

The birth of imagination, under the cover of cold solitude
warming my blood in objection to passive defeat
to reconsider elements of self
to reinvent the fleeting traces of potential
to set into motion the train of thought that will lead me wherever I wish to go

Absolute

Compositions iron clad without estimation
rigid in thought, unrelenting in inflexibility
unbalanced, leading into wars of complete right and wrong
where only one shall prevail in the name of absolute truth

For those in opposition to the limitlessness of possibility
who commit calculations without account for the elements of imperfection in humanity

Weight

On pathways of gold to find a silver stain
quivering in presence, shaking in difference
must such slanderous objects take their presence in our path
how must we pull our weight in gold with the taint of silver lagging behind?

Behold the appearance of a platinum stone
the marvel of our eyes, the envy of our hearts
let me lay my sights upon your sweet magnificence
oh why must I be made of gold so trivial

How I wish to shine such as yourself, dear platinum
how I wish to climb to your spectacular heights
only for a moment in your shoes, the pride of the world
to be revered, to be admired by all who see me

And laugh they did, the statues of bronze
…and laugh they did

Speech

Emphases of obnoxious rhetoric
opposing golden silences
transforming man into monument
yet challenging the realms of common sense

Reinventing the wheel to spin faster with time
to go nowhere in particular with reckless haste
endlessly busy to numb senses
the dialogue must not cease, the show must run its due course

Move constant like sharks that may not cease in their element
to rule over the waters at the helm of the pyramid
classified as masters of the ocean
owned by the hands of the fisherman balancing bodies on the scales of sales

A social discourse, a grand cause to be chased
Thou shall not deviate from the plan at any cost
Let me gawk at the winners bathing in accomplishment
the sharks who have never witnessed the browning of the autumn leaves

Bitter

Poisonous minds, venomous thoughts
cruel intentions wrought through experiences garnered
festering in minds to marinate madness
dwelling in infinite form to bathe oneself in misery

Cleanse unhappiness to wash away the dirt of despondency
gather wits within the pits of insanity
rise above the magnified grains of unwanted dirt
that contribute callousness to our complex cores

The compassionate remains that outline individuals
tough as the bed of nails that await the rest of our lives
Despite a rough outer appearance
The souls now as brittle as bricks
softened enough to render our bitter experiences as endeavors in understanding

Fenway

The sights and sounds, profound in their history
transporting past glory in each moment
scoreboards and sluggers, a pastime of peanuts and possibilities
watchful eyes follow the flying baseballs pepper a luscious green paradise

Shout me a beverage
Experience the undertaking of sporting conquest
thrilling views from my seat, appealing even in defeat
all taken in underneath, my curved cap brim

Tomorrow, the scores will change
the players will move on
the teams shall appear different
yet the game, will remain the same

No Hard Feelings

Seep into the cracks of my boots, my tiny little pebbles
embed yourselves into my sole
come along for this journey
crushing under impact but holding tight with firm grip

Released by accident, unleashed by force
unhooked from the fractures in my boots
to bare true form onto unsuspecting surfaces
foreign in their unsightly appearance on faultless floors

Examined, investigated, and analyzed
only to be disposed with the next sweep
No need to give a second thought
to see who you may have found

Party

Seated at a party, a room of people awaits. The faces bear similarity; their stories stand apart. Garbed in their own liking, their own fancies cover their appearance from head to toe. Underneath their attire, the reality of experience harbors truth in their faces. They smile, greet, and search for brief contact. For the show of shows, they look for a moment of understanding of another.

Some shall judge in haste
others will appreciate and admire
The revolving room serves as a door
that opens and closes upon invitations and tastes
upon destiny and acceptance