This is the day

Good morning. So far so good. You know. Everyday it get easier to breath. I want to thank God for all that has come before this. Today may not be a big day. But somehow I feel great joy in anticipation of the events that will be laid before my path. Traditional optimism makes for bad poetry in my opinion. Yet here I am, holding hope in one hand. And the flows in the other.

I can only expect to be uplifted
by who
the street angels
my own joy flows through the madness
it's all too big
yet it's shrinking
it's all confusing
so I'm still thinking
life is just a blink of the eye
one wink until I die

close to my life time

there is a point in my life I am waiting to reach
like my true life has not began
to contemplate this disgust me somehow
the fact that I know every moment should be joyful
but it's not
How do I know it it's supposed to be joyful
I just think I do
All I really know is what I think
far to deep in my own imagination
with flashes of all of them
how far away from all of this can I get
I used to want to be an astronaut
now I'm calling all cosmonauts
the countdown has began
7654321.....

Poets do not die

words last a literate lifetime
they blow with the wind
change with the season
and for clear reason
won't sleep or die
poets do not die
we blink
sometimes
we

Some type of crazy man madness

I feel like my boyfriend is a nutcase sometimes. The question is. Is he trying to take me with him? I always get these calls from him in the middle of the night. And though I have sympathy, and feel in solidarity with his suffering. I wonder I much more I can take. What shall be the concussion?
Can I save a life, while trying to live a life that seems too hard for me. What could I really be if my life were my own? Am I a bad person when I say no matter how long you've loved a person you can rescue no one. How much of all this is just him being drunk?How much of this is just pure bad judgment? How much of it is life karma? Then there is the question of karma? Is this my bad karma, or his? Is this good, or bad karma? Is the universe trying to whisper something into our ears? Where would his life be without me? Where would my life be without him? How can another soul blame you for the life they are living? Must be nice to not have to just except it. Sometimes I wish I lived the life in my dreams. Where I am happy again. Maybe I am. What to do when your life has been hijacked by an emotional terrorist?. Will I ever have love again? Passion, and madness go hand, and hand. Anyway here's a poem.

when I was queen of my universe
I owned everything I could see
joy and me never played this enemy game
things changed
now I'm this woman battling with words
from crowned pawn
to royalty at a dark prom
dancing with my bruised and reluctant prince charming
privilege is in question
there is no privilege in the garden of Eden
there is no garden in loneliness
you know this all seems well rehearsed
I saw it before
When I was queen of my universe

meditions in an emergency

That title is not mine, but came up. And we all know how that goes. I feel pretty good right, and I would like to thank God for that. I far too often feel like it is all coming to an end. In fact I am majorly concerned with the apocalypses in general. Wide spread famine, floods, water wars, contamination of the food supply. It's just Mad Max tomorrow in my head. Thank God for the Beatles, and all that good stuff. Or maybe I'd be Tank Girl. No I'm just kidding. I've always been Tank Girl, and will continue the tradition until the end.

too shady, and crazy

Man, this world is sometimes too much for a woman like me. I was raised in all kinds of shady craziness, and the shit ain't over yet. The older I get the wilder the west becomes. You can't really trust anybody. Mostly because a great majority of mankind can't really trust themselves. Then we depend on one another for education. To me this world is mad sick right now. Has been for a while, yet you know I still reach up for the love. But for real folks are weak mentally. They are either smart, but don't know what to do with themselves. Or dumb as fuck, and trying to do way much. I feel like I love even though I'm neutral on most bullshit. I'm just trying to be a corporate media assassin, and trying to make sure my words don't die. I don't want my struggle to be for nothing. Sometimes I wish God could just look down on me, and save me from all of this. Here's a poem.

my strenght comes from within
where the tears are
I cry for too many men
who will be there for me in the end
will I even be remembered
or will there just be these words to decipher
my strength comes from within
where my joy is
that's how I know I'm going to heaven
though I now dwell in
well I'm sure you can tell