RedPill

...either they ain't ready or i'm overly prepared,

starting sharing knowledge and they strangely stared,

and they still couldn't see until i dumbed down the glare,

then my soul got weary then my temper flared,

because it wasn't even like they never really cared,

but they willingly oppressed themselves, offered the fare...

my God...lives based on choices carefully prepared –

packaged up in stores to where we sprint like hares

and give ourselves bare to which no fruit we bear

and in emptiness we surround ourselves, to stray away we dare,

because this IS stability , fabricated ware

and sometimes just something feels good when nothing else pairs.

RedPill.

Sickening, thickening decline in moral levels

We switch sides so often like our brains on bevels

The lemurs running fierce to our heavens or our hells

Snitched, arrested, jailed… we doin it to ourselves

And we love it, embrace it, spend time rallying for basics

And the trash with which we consume ourselves

To it we rush, don’t pace it

And I only write these words out of my own frustration

That 95% who read them just won’t make it

Enlightenment takes courage to go beyond, just take it.

Red Pill.

building home

building home
building home
building home to fight the wrong
the injusticeS
all to thwart the plans
that hinder, slave and then demand
more souls,
And we so readily the lions' lambs
we invite more of ourselves
into their plan
consumption, consumption
hoarding more
and when those in need come to our door?
we shun, exclude in one or more
charity? no.
God-given right to explore
the life beyond, surplus and wealth
we clamor, fight, work to our death
to be among elite and star
building Babylon on earth subpar
but never did He endorse such shit
that we may be controlled in it
all we allow to roam within
our existences reflect influences
cheat, lies, covet, take
we see this daily, hook and bait
invasive on your TV screen
mainstream music fits in between
coincidences now ended
exactly what they intended
and where you find yourself in it?
better be where you end it
'cause the road to salvation
is not half-assed, and is not pretended.

building home
building home
building home to fight the wrong
injusticeS, while we seek plushness
comfortability and cushion
building layers of ignorance,
preconditioning our lives
with the songs of Sirens in rightful tune
building vast empires of sorrows and doom
I sweep, shovel this noise off my stoop
and prepare my mind for battle
because when their shoes bring dirt and soot
I'll be absent, fence not straddled...

Again.

just not how i saw it when i woke up today.

life a completed page of checkboxes

beautifully crafted and interwoven

lovingly joined...

glances, stares become tiny tears

gazing into my skin

infusing my bones

inverting my soul

she’s then

dangling from my sleeve

greeting the world with such genuineness

opening to the possibilities

oblivious to danger

ignorant to peril

choices.

and why should I...not?

not oblivious. 

not ignorant.

ignoring.

intentional. 

calculated excuses and rationale

selfish?

ingenious. 

misunderstood.

i open my soul

bring from within my best

present and offer

humbly.

no forcing, no coaxing, no suggestion

only free will

immediate connection

submission and tension

passion.

self gratifying

outcome bleak

tweaked, altered 

result replays...

just not how i saw it when i woke up today.

360

Off the road to nowhere, but still not used to moving this part of my life so purposefully.

Having to be careful about each choice. Why can't this come as natural as my next breath? This I don't understand. This I can't comprehend, can't wrap my mind around this unintentional loss of consciousness.

Love, lust, desire, seduction, attraction, that look, the feeling that follows, bodies, lips, fingertips, caresses, tongues. 

The strongest sensations I feel, so little of it makes me feel. I overdose, every time, and when I sober, when I come back to myself, I'm drowning in guilt, but the shame doesn't distract me from seeking my next fix. 

And the actual problem exists because I don't know when he's coming or how to sense him. I'm blind, and the only warning signs appear after I've hit it, after the feelings again take over me, and I'm in too deep...again.

I don't know how to predict it, don't know how to avoid it, so don't fault me for not learning from my mistakes, from these cycles of nothingness...that mean everything to me.

i hate you so much right now.

fo-ny pha-kin' i-mage steal-ing wanna-be but not appealing.

leave this to professionals

or at least those somewhat versed on the subject.

didn't figure we'd get here so quickly,

or even ever as a matter of fact

yet i stand here on the cusp

of homicidal achievement

because that is how much you matter right now,

that I would find thrill in the wake of your termination.

how is it

that you've managed to lace yourself

within my exploratory consciousness?

that place where hands lay and necks crack

-not just in theory-

beyond the humanistic concern that I feel for all people

whether I like them or not.

with you, my vices have never been secret, or hidden

i trusted that you would wrap them carefully

and place them in well guarded quarters.

and I hate more than anything

that the only way I would find out

how false you really were

was to now see my enemies

flaunting pieces of them.

you know me,

so surely you have already deduced

that this will go far beyond words on a page

not only will these letters hemorrhage

not only will this ink bleed.

how dare you, contriving parasite?

initially i thought i was bested

but there was never any antagonism,

i thought

i guess the old adage rings true

those who fear you present

will resent you absent

and as much as i know

and all the degrees i hold

i couldn't deduce your callow little existence.

in case you had not realized,

i have no desire to be the bigger person.

REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK.
I don't have any use for fluffiness.  I abhor blind complacency and people who don't want to discuss what needs to be discussed for fear they will hurt someone's feelings. I argue that if you're thinking it you might as well say it. Read my voice.

dEstiny

Can't imagine what else this could be
Tried being without you,
On the fence of love I was,
convincing myself, doubting you
The more I strayed, I became scared
Now leaping over to co-exist.
You always made me feel comfortable
When the world let me down.
I could cry to you
and no matter how trivial
You would listen and support me
And that is who I wish to be for you
As long as God allows
Forever and now.
You understand me completely
and still love me.
Sharing my compassion for others,
doing what is right, beyond criticism,
or opinion.
Just you,
what a strange notion it always seemed
that in this ominous world
Love settled right on top of us
So many moons ago.
Ten years as partners
Twelve as lovers
and all of them as friends.
Never doubting your motives.
Pure destiny.

click the image to enlarge

Too Far Gone

Too Far Gone

Starting to regret the day

Balance changing, selfish outweighs

Comes with prices I will pay

Don't want to go tit for tat

Really need the old to come back

But we so far gone away from that.

And he can't stand my girls

He says WE live in this world

Refuse to jig, to twirl

And his boys are some the same

Dropping old girlfriends' names

Caught, sought, fucked and came.

Too much side, not enough main.

Too far gone.

Too far gone.

CALCULATING

Calculate - adj. - shrewd, crafty: coldly scheming or conniving

Calculating has long since been found in cahoots with other adjectives such as malicious, menacing, scheming, cold; all describing unwanted and socially reprehensible characteristics, those likened to thieves, criminals, tyrants and heartless individuals.

Its perception concerns me, however, because I do consider myself to be calculating. I plan out nearly every move that I make, and before I act, have run through every possible benefit and consequence; every scenario determined, because I work specifically for avoidance. My use of this tool has little to do with scheming to take from others what does not belong to me; be it money, products, life, hope or love. In particular, I employ this tool to create for myself a stress-free, highly productive, positive-functioning environment and lifestyle where I am comfortable nearly all the time.

This has become my nuance as well as my protectant, because it has created an extremely particular individual - those who I allow into my circle; the career path I've chosen; how I respond to others; and how I expect them to respond to me. None of which having anything to do with anything underhanded.

So I'm annoyed, because if you look at the meaning of "calculate" you hear a completely different tone:

v. - to determine by reasoning, common sense, or practical experience; estimate; evaluate; gauge.

Huh? Why such varying representations for a verb versus an adjective; planning versus scheming; practical versus shrewd; ingenuity versus crafty. Why "to calculate" means performing some quality, logical or smart functions and calculating stands for those characteristics of the world's underbelly genuinely perplexes me.

Why, because I want my life to follow a certain order, and will do what I must to make this happen must I feel that my methods are undesirable, that I have in some way erred grossly because I make things happen - my way. You could call it selfish, and I won't object. I'm no martyr; I can not leave my life to be determined by the will of others. Those things were part of a younger, more naive, clouded version of myself. I'm no fool, and won't be anyone's whore for their particular agenda.

"Calculating", you got a bum rap.