You never tagged me when I couldn't find a hiding place.

Life within life or so they say,
quick to define, and to believe.
Holding a hand of soft core skin
confronting electric vibrance.

The situation of our fingertips,
there never was such true convenience.
Oh spark the chemicals beneath,
the bitter red, the not so clean.

Please riddled doorway let us through,
we called before to book a room.
Let's stumble quickly toward the sky,
falling upwards you and I.

We never plan to disappear
as we turn to face the void.
So you hold onto the day gone past,
as this girl who knows this boy.

Disguises, and fabrics,
they tend to fall off.
But don't find shame in the
expanding pile of unfolded cloth.

It's the lessons learned first hand,
that keep us intrigued.
So let's try to figure out
when the other should lead.

These ramblings, my gospel, for a testament untitled.

I messed up this life of mine, and cannot stand proud among angels.
Oh purity forgive each sample of tempt.
I do cry out with sickness, of which no baptism can heal.
Holiday wine, but I'm nothing more than a puddle of mud.
Drowning in blissful stream seems the only solution.
Departing as is, will be the cleanest conclusion.
You'll sully a cloth with salt water beads,
The uncomfort may cause you to drop to your knees.

Oh my earth brothers and sisters,
Gaia is destined to be free of Babylon gov't / corporate control.

A year from right now, the world will look back.
They'll take a moment to pray for the follies of past.
Then the once starving tribes will eat routine supper,
and drink water freely, before sleeping in comfort.
For two thousand years, and even before,
martyrs have died in hope of ending man's Earth wars.
God bless the saints who've the courage to stay,
but my fellow Guy Fawkes' – we choose our own way.
Raising common sensibility above the system of common spotlight whores,
will free people of the hardships created from the misuse of resources.
Equality not imposition, comes through respect for all life.
Exodus from the collective dark psyche that manufactures such strife.
Raising banners of compassion within cities world-wide,
teaching lessons of spirit, while roaring out loud with the humblest of pride.

I can't think of a title, how about 'I still protest the status quo'

My mind is a worn-out boxing glove,
and my brain cells hardly swing easy.
Though, my fists are a waste of good fighting tools,
since no war was ever fought with man's reason.

Bullets don't fly toward my direction,
yet victims' pains find their way in.
Unjust murder disguised as security,
as each tear drop so pierces my skin.

I'd give up my lifestyle within diseased borders,
if it meant the end of these horrors.
Some things deserve a place in this world,
but with ceaseless unrest these things cannot flourish.

So, once again, I state my case clear,
the difference is that now I am begging.
We won't ever be happy with an unhealthy world,
while life exists as this shrapnel by-product that they're selling.

Treading feet - spaceless & timeless

I remember tending to great harvests,
and praising opportunity for what it was.
I remember guessing the meaning of stars,
playing with mud and laughing.
I remember wood fires, leather tents,
waking up in the dark, and pulling up Our Star,
sprinting as rays hit my back.
I remember finding ripe fruit,
and sharing that miracle with siblings.
(Though the elders already knew.)

My current self has known not that life,
yet I remember where I have been.

"Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them." — Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

I fail to not exist as a soul in this body,
and I don't remember before I was born.
There are those in need of the specific assistance of preservation.
Though, that empathy died in myself recently.
Such actions are too much to ask, and my nerves are cut loose.
I can no longer lie with a front of thankfulness. For I carry not that notion.
A life experiencing subjective uniqueness, hardships and hand-outs alike.
That is all, and it is but illusion.
No secrets hidden for you to find, only flesh to figure out.
Enjoyment was never happiness, only sadness that provided duality.
Distraction through destruction, via packaged dinner & a coke.
A prayer I'll throw to the wind, not for the suffering of today,
but for the yet unnamed souls of tomorrow.
Bless them with peace, and a warning.
All will not be right, for our deception is a flame eternal.