the fall of the city of gold

city of gold lend me your ear
for there is a story that must be told
a story of weath a story of evil
of atrocities no man can behold

it comes from your city.
so serene in beauty
a feast no eye can foresee
the gold that you build with, is what will destroy us
your mud has become our fall

what to one city is nothing is to another the world
what is to one man a loss another a goal

but your beauty will fade
you gold will not sparkle forever
when angry eyes do behold
for a mans lust, for his rage and for his desire
can no city stop from its unfold.

to hold something so high but mean so little to another
to see a page feast others see a mold
to quench the desire that leads man to madness
as sand that the hands try to hold

oh city of gold this is how you will flicker
this is how u will eventually implode
your builders become wanters
your walls become idols
till one day your story is told

its told through a poem
but not one of remembrance
its one of complete loss of control.

the lie

this rage is burning
in the lie im not a part of
or so they say
but a part of it i am
it consumes me
its sweaty breath breathes down my neck
its painful eyes manifest themselves in my daily thoughts
its ugly face looks at me in every moment
and wonders why
wonders why i dont talk
wonders why i dont care
wonders why i dont fight
but what can i fight
it is bigger then i am
i hate this lie
i hate its knowledge
i hate its life
demons surround me
but the fight is not mine
my angels are battling
they are yearning for higher ground
and they will receive it
but how much longer will they wait
how much longer do there bursts of hope transform into pools of pain
how much longer can they hold on
before this fight over takes them
and this lie becomes life...

movements of life

white as the dress she is wearing
chilled as the words he is saying
new as the breath she is taking
cold as the fear he is feeling

music with the walk she is making
loud as the noise he is screaming
cries with the life she is feeling
fear with the pain has him kneeling

love with the face she is seeing
sting from the slap he is taking
sight with the eyes she is clearing
threads with the rope he is hanging

hands into which she is taking
slams from the door he is freezing
joy from the life they are seeing
blur with the life he is leaving

vows from the speech she is saying
rage from the words he is yelling
beauty from the life their engaging
tight from the noose hes preparing

a kiss seals the choice they are making
a abandoned ring changes the life they were living
another enters the life their creating
a drop ending the life he is hating

love feels the life of the first
tears feel the life of the next
joy enters the life of the third
darkness enters the last of the words

red

slit my wrist and let it bleed
there isnt room in this place for me
the danger of love
burning in fire
the chill of a house
the death of desire
the voices, i hear them
calling for someone i dont know
bring me back bring me back
but to where i cant show
black as paper
warm as frost
the dull of the blade
the rage of the lost
let it bleed
cleanse my life
with this blood and with this pipe
bleed the darkness
make room for the fire
burn in my heart
quench my desire
for light and for love
for things i know not
bleed these words full of frost
till dead i am not

rant

gosh i am sick of invisible children
i know it sounds horrible but hear me out
when did helping someone become trendy?
people dont care about the message, maybe it moved them once but they dont "really" care. their friends care, so they do as well. displace me? give me a break, all its become is a event to get you a new facebook picture. maybe for that one day a year people think for a minute about what they are doing there. but then just like that they are sitting next to their box smiling for the photo. look what i did, i was homeless for one night. wow im proud. you really did something with your life, jesus would be so happy you got a new pic.. i mean helped raise awareness for those kids! which leads to the next factiod. that problem has almost been solved... what invisible children did was a miracle and nothing short of amazing, but whats next!! sure there are kids still making that trek but there are 1000 of people dying a day in darfur and kenya and so many other countries! yet we are just now jumping on the invisible children bandwagon... come on, live outside your american bubble and think about the 90% of people that are way worse off then you. support something, live for something, dont get new facebook picture... make a freakin difference... im done

...peace...

i hate when someone says, "but its peaceful"
peaceful doesn't work when the world doesn't know peace
empty is the cup when nothing is in it but thoughts
thoughts cant win wars, thoughts cant build hospitals, thoughts cant heal cancer
neither can peace
peace
peace
peace
life
love
lust
death
every word has a meaning
some of them beautiful
some of the dark
just letters, in combination, each one a different feeling
each feeling a different breath
breathe
life
air
peace
lives are lost
love is killed
peace can die
air can rust
but the empty expansion of life pushes forward
groaning with ever pain
spurting with every wince
the fire of change cannot be quenched
the fragility of life cannot be mended.
never have words been more clear
never has life been more fake
beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
beholding lust in the moment of rapture
words painting pictures life cannot show
but life shows pain words cannot paint
beauty
peace
love
death
life
hope
faith
...dust...

this poem describes me absolutely perfect...

wish it was my words

here me quickly lord
for my mind soon wanders to other things
i am more familiar with
and more worried about
then i am with you

words will not do lord
listen to my tears
for i have lost much
and fear more
listen to my sweat
for i wake at night
overwhelmed by darkness and strange dreams
listen to my sighs
for my longing surges like the sea
urgent, mysterious and beckoning
listen to my growing gut
for i hunger for bread and intimacy
listen to my curses
for i am angry at the way the world
comes down on me sometimes
and sometime i on it
listen to my cracking knuckles
for i hold tightly to myself
and anxiously squeeze myself
into others expectations
and them into mine
and then shake my fist at you
for disappointing me

listen to my footfalls
for i stumble to bring good tidings to someone
listen to my groans
for i ache for healing
listen to my worried weariness
for my work matters much to me
and needs help
listen to my tension
for i ache toward accepting who i am
and who i cannot be
listen to my hunched back
for sometimes i cant bear
the needs and demands of the world anymore
and want to put it down
and give it back to you

listen to my laughter
for they are friends
and mercy
and something urges me to thank
listen to my humming
for sometimes i catch all unaware
the rhythms of creation
and the music without words
rises in me to meet it
and there is joy in the romping of children
and dancing of angels

listen to my blinking eyes
for at certain moments
when the sunlight strikes just right
or the stars pierce the darkness just enough
or the clouds roll around just so
or the snow kisses the world into quietness
everything is suddenly transparent
and something in me is pure enough
for an instant
to see your kingdom in a glance
and so praise you in a gasp
quick
then gone
but it is enough

listen to me quickly, Lord