“I do trust you.”

He’s out with that girl
screwing her, getting her pregnant.
He doesn’t even care about school
he is giving up his future.
He’s not studying; he’s gone out
drinking and smoking,
and what’s this rap stuff?
He just wants an image so he can
pull in girls all the time.
He doesn’t like any of that.
I used to have a genius; now,
I have him.
He’s just a degenerate;
he’s not my son.
The way he is now,
he’s not worth anything
and he won’t amount to anything.
He thinks I don’t know
what he’s really doing.
But yeah, I trust him.

have you ever considered yourself?

every blink
every breath
every heart beat

is just part of
a long countdown
that never seems
to last quite
long enough.

there’s a bullet
nestled in this chamber.
it looks cold and
i just want to
give it a nice warm home.

knowledge is power
and also a weapon.
so what would you call
the knowledge of
the whereabouts
of a powerful weapon?
because i have that.
i just don’t know
what i’m going to do
with all of this power.

i’m well; so why don’t you
come in and have a seat,
kick up your feet. relax.
this can be your home
if you like.
just promise me that
while you’re here
you’ll take over my appliances
trash my upholstery
and eat all my food.
i want you to overstay
your welcome.
i want you to
make your presence overwhelming.
make of you to spread
across this world.
and when you can’t fit in
with me anymore,
cut me out and find somewhere else.
take over.
just make sure you
start with me.
i’m well right now;
i don’t want to be.

matter cannot be destroyed
or created; but,
it can be changed
or rearranged for alternate purposes.
so, i guess i can take solace
in knowing that the amount i used to matter
hasn’t been lost to the world,
just reallocated to something
or someone better.

it seems that when people
are willing to open,
primed and ready for
true exploration;
the ones who should be
diving in,
decide that something else
has tickled their fancy.

you are left open,
hoping someone might notice you
and take a little leap
into the wonders you have hidden.
no one does.
you’re the unearthed treasure
that no one will touch.

The sea and the shore,

So different from themselves,

Still coexisting.

every dam has its capacity.
the same is said for any person.
i am the drop capable of
pushing them pass it.

I.

We are nothing more
than the gravel and rock
raised from the earth,
cold and blue.

II.

Blood of my ancients
burned and spilled
to bring forth a spring,
bubbling from the rock.
The blood is in the soil.

III.

An empire, sheltered by the shade
of the blue mountains, rose here.
We thrived in this place,
this place our own sacred ground,
the source of our power,
the seed that formed our bounty.
The bounty that kept us fed.

IV.

We are safe here.
This is home.
No dangers outside can reach us.
We are safe here,
cast in the cool shade of blue mountains.
We have ourselves.

V.

The ancients are gone,
leaving only their blood in the soil
and the blood of their blood.
The ancients rest, trusting
that we will flourish around the stream
born of their labor.
The ancients rest,
believing that they are able to.

VI.

Descendants know not the value of wealth,
only the value of currency and possessions.
The cool shade of the blue mountains
protects us from the flames of the world.
It cannot safeguard us from the flames
we set upon ourselves.
The blood of the ancients is boiling in the soil.
Our stream no longer flows,
only floods.
The ancients still rest.
They must.

VII.

Our stream is now stained red
with the blood of the ancients,
the blood of the descendants,
and blood of the innocent.
The cool shade of the blue mountains
no longer protects us;
it only hides the shameful tragedy
from prying eyes.
The empire has fallen
and still, the descendants
struggle for scraps.
The ancients still rest.
They will never rise.

VIII.

I am the child of the descendants.
I am one of many.
I stand in the midst of a war
that I did not start; but must fight.
This rubble is our inheritance.
The other children fight.
I wish only to rest, like the ancients.
Not until I fall.