fleet,ing

This, a rebel call for

wait

this rebel's all but

sober but I'll

stick the morning

and still

stand almost tall

like a marsupial

trained in martial arts and

but wait this note's fleeting

going to delete it.

I'm just drunk but saying

representing New York

holler back and save it

this a rebel call for

rebels wasting dollars

bottle popping and amazing

people treading pavement

like vandal cravings

high like elevation

Up in heaven playing

trumpets

lightly

End it.

another, rant

I'm done with deciphering but I'll never forget
the wars and the medieval educated bigots,
the ones that kept me up at nights thinking
where's the public opinion to generate some
new type of system free of hatred and with it
some real focalized rhythm? One with no fear
of persecution for thinking that there's flaws
inside the borders of the land that I live in.
Just join the middle class retail corporate enigma,
and don't peek behind the curtain where the forests diminish.
Is it connected to the ritual shot-glasses of poison
to help numb the pain from your too many comforts,
the feeling that sprung from catching the latest breaking newscast reports?
It's like reminiscing about the time when we reminisced about the wave of despair that lingers through time like vengeance from the patronizing tone in the air. The one that pokes at the chains of those who've been stripped of the chance to offer their hand at some point in the middle, because we can't see the spiritual achievement to revel, from anti-hate at each level, or take back the rights to organic food for our temple,
cause I'm literally sick of the crap from Monsanto.
It slows my body and halts my ambition,
so I've got this theory, that the revolution starts in the kitchen
and follows through with a detox mission, to cleanse your perception
and join the ocean of sisters and brothers we're lucky to coexist with
to rise above the harms from the stigma that shuns interdependence as some impossible symbiotic mission "cause it's just not the sort of reality we live in, so why ruin a good thing or pivot from perfectly unscorched half of a half scorched system?"
But, screw it right? Just another page for fucked up future text books.

for at moments and times of awe, when we know.

It took profound faith in the power of friendship
to unlock the last of my inhibitions.
But now, on this side of the spectrum, I want to drown
in the lingering scent of a love that could never stay long enough.
And again I have discovered that human souls are fragile, because selfish.
Because we want to bond like magnets, and share electrons
like the the atoms of a molecule.
Selfish, like Juliet and Romeo, whose desires are too natural
for a world at odds with nature.
That opposites attract, is only a half truth.
For it is in our similar peace that God opens our converse.
And though the pull of two opposing forces is present,
it is that of ours to injustice.
Yes us rebels of five senses, of the fourth dimension, of third eye cleansing.
I'm not new here, just enticed out of jadedness by vocal chords
reminiscent of a friend. So excuse me now,
I'd like to drown in the remaining scent, of a friend.

Streaming

A,

I yearn, to find some meaning, sometimes.
It's not unlike holding that next unread book.
So much is hidden, all is hidden.
The days unfold, and revelations change your world.
Most are fleeting, and melted into some whisper
that echos so subtle when you approach a deep chasm
of desperation, and it chimes "Freedom, providence.
You are a brave soul, to be you, through here.
We are the saviors, of God, and for the lost,
that in time there is comfort where none might have been.
Trust in God, for imperfection was passed onto them as well,
and they understand wholly, yet you teach them
with your entire being. Be with love my dearest,
and you will know all meaning, always."

,B