Jordan’s Curiosity


He’s a young boy with dreams, filled

all night with magic tricks and

unbelievable myths

 

Wishing for a life

of never ending days of play

and daring what if’s

 

Eyes wide out, never closed

content in making the world

what it is as he sees

 

Outside reflecting the innocent in,

laughing at his pure sadness

he’s spirit free

 

Constantly and consistently

he remains in the hunt for the true

meaning and the reason why

 

Instinct whispering soft giggles

that there just may be something

between the clouds in the sky

 

So he believes….

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To Hell and Back


A gloomy dark hall, fluorescent lights still dancing

to the heart beats of the barely living

and those who’ve died

 

Passing by frowned faces

of hard times and

those who must survive

 

Like me, evolved hearts to stone

bitter sweet nature

with foundations of fear

 

Motivated by radio waved dreams

and their second childhood

baby tears

 

Embracing fellow semioticians

who return their gestures to an equally

minded and well tested champ

 

A conqueror of himself

and of the outside world

has now returned to camp

 

Smoke still smoking from my soles

showing much evidence of walls crumbled

and demons demolished

 

Suited in my best,

emerging from the Blacksmith’s water

for now I am evenly polished

 

The reincarnated parable has ended

and the Lost Son

has returned

 

Fluorescent lights still tinkle

in the hall, awaiting

for the next soles to burn

Paradise Lost


We made heaven in our box of hell

after we lite fire to the sky

 

And walked away from somebody’s could be paradise

with our heads held high

 

Giving up eternal life for love,

throwing up the consequences to the fire

 

Staying true to our heart’s aspirations

than to know ourselves better as liars

 

Inhaling deep breaths of determination

we blew life in to our own worldly worlds

 

Resuscitating our dreams, recreating childhoods

of when we were young boys and innocent girls

 

Free  willing to adulthood and then to an after life

without the whispers of the opinionated blind

 

Basing their could be lies on what had always occurred

from now to back to the beginning of time

 

While they wonder secretly within themselves

what life would be if the sky would really fall

 

Braising their minds to find

that there may never be a paradise at all

Temporary Victory


 

We lease our existence from dream thieves,

who will at any moment take away our breath

when needed or not

 

Disguising ourselves

as the owners of the boom

of Molotov bombs and close range gun shots

 

We are crowned victorious, with

red Kool-Aid smiles and

fried chicken smells in our clothes

 

Yes, the Have-Not’s are now the champions

of a fallen kingdom

of crumbling walls and lost souls

 

In the blackness of shadows

the repented say prayers

of Heavenly Father forgiveness

 

So that forever

they remain in His grace

and become a soul surviving Witness

Yes?!


If I could turn on the light for you I would

 

If  these words could touch your heart as if you really knew

as if you truly overstood, I would

 

I would turn the stressful dark days into peaceful bright nights

 

To ask God for love to turn on her beautiful bright lights

 

If I could I would, fetch for you the purest waters

from the eyes of repented sin

 

and bathe you in them to wash away your fears

and worries from within

 

If I could I would do anything in my power

for you in any way or in any order

 

Even if you only need me to turn on the light

and fix you a glass of water

 

I would…..

Wisdom Passes….and so forth


Coincidently we walked in to the same room of this atmospheric blues

Playing our roles to the tunes Fate has given us to play

You are my Teacher and I the student of your futuristic views

Hoping to honor your words in the time of my wisdom passing days

 

Once believing that I memorized  all the lessons in life to be told

But that was just another lesson in life

To be told, proving to me that it’s never too late to mold

Never too far to reach, never too dark to shed light

 

So much that I bathe in and upon your light to be tanned

And show others that Light walks with me

So much that I am reconstructed in to becoming a real man

To show to others that knowledge is the key

 

And I am the new bearer of infinite paths and decisions to choose

And at the same time, I became the master instrument of this atmospheric blues

Playing tunes for the masses, so they might understand they too have decisions to choose

Giving thanks to my teacher’s teacher for Her furturistic views

 

Coincidently my teacher leaves the room and a new student arrives

Playing his role to the tunes Fate has given her to play

My duty to my position is to make an impression on his life

Hoping he will honor my words in the time of her wisdom passing days

 

….and so forth

Time Against Faces


Drops of pain as if it were rain rippling waves upon these beautiful faces

Losing time, losing childhoods, losing spaces

 

Wondering about yesterdays and the time that was never spent

Wondering about those beautiful plans, wondering where they went

 

And time keeps on  moving as if it were from scene to scene

As actors are getting old birthing new ambitions and new ambitions are birthing new dreams

 

All along pride rides the rippled waves that rest upon these beautiful faces

The clock keeps ticking while the ages continue eating spaces

 

And all that remains is the residue of memories left behind

With nothing else to say but “where is the time”

Savage


Solumn face creeping

through the dark

 

Sniffing for fear in the air

of my scent and wanting

to own this heart

 

She was a relentless

savage on me once,

eating up my existence back then

 

And when she couldn’t  finish

she was left with angry thoughts

foaming and dripping down her chin

 

Defining it as self afflicted pain;

dark clouds follow her in stride, outside

she struts with pride,

 

but on the inside she paces back and forth

in a cage of pride

 

wrinkled and dried,

happy times are now longed for memories

 

As her weeping willowed posture

throbs from looking down on her invisible enemies

 

In which I remain to be private enemy no. 1

 

She refuses to show her regrets

but I can hear them

free falling from her toungue

 

So much that she speaks

with a lisp and

curses between the gap in her teeth

 

Eventhough she prayed

 that God would forgive me

for being so weak

 

Closed minded and brutally cold

 

Amen,

to a devil who was a savage on me once

and almost claimed my soul

Ms. Independent


She be freedom writing through tears
on the bedroom walls
G’s and A’s all standing tall

“you’re GonnA need one dAy”

Pride and Love against each other
on the battlefield of my heart
Her skies have opened and the waves of her sea did part

Me wanting to leave and
the need for me to stay
And all I could think was

“you’re gonna need me one day”

To hear me laugh
at my reflection in your eyes
Or to feel the hair standing up
on my thighs, when you ride

Wild horses in my mind

Giving you Love
and wasting your time
Thinking of you
and wanting what’s mine

Seeing her in yellows,
in reds and in pinks
Admiring her freedom,
whenever I happen to think

“Your GonnA need me one dAy”

Chuuurch!!


She wants me to be
more than just a passing friend

Staring at me through mirrored ceilings
while running guilt down my chin

Burning me up in the pews
fanning me with lies of celibacy girls

Hoping that the fire spreads, creating
hell on earth in my world

Flipping tissue paper with words
Hoping I’d believe and pray

Watching me with her right eye
Waiting for the moment I retire and lay

Trouble be squirming in my sheets
screaming for me at the top of baby minded lungs

Possessed by liquid lust
speaking the Truth in tongues

Interrupting my prayers before I eat

Running from wine and cracker tables to
running wild through inner city streets

before He lay me down to sleep

Holding hands with retired whores off corners
Dressed up like fairies

Only ten minute testimonies
No time for the documenTary

Oversized letter climbing the building,
while political pastors be pole dancing on stages

And ministers with squeegees
offering to clean hearts for wages

High pitch yelps signals a race
Amen! Everybody running in place

Looking to escape week long sins
Running so fast they lost without a trace

All in the name of the Son and the Father

Chuurch!