A little rant. For the special, a holy chant.

Sweet as a honey bee's stinger.
A composite of conventional and eccentric.
My allure can hardly be contained or linger.
Observing the fast and the reckless.
Affected by none-too many faithless.

Persistent in anguish.
Love wouldn't tarnish.
Sweet as a diabetic's last wish.

If being born in this relentless world wasn't cruel enough, this beady eyed creature had internal conflicts to be resolved. There were no demons, just the echo of their demonic screech.
They say that there is no such thing as an original idea. And in fact every thought, idea, concept or notion has been adapted, improved or redesigned from someone else's. There is no originality in consciousness. There is no originality in despair. All sadness has already been frowned upon. But not everything has been ridiculed yet....
Existence is merely the excrete of an astronomically gigantic Bos taurus ( as we are all aware of).

The protagonist strides on-wards with a burden to bare. A burden to share. But everybody has their own bundle of cry to carry. Like an ant lost among the dung beetle farm, the madcap of dance and freedom was out of place, and without taste. Of passion to stir up the motivation of self potential.
 The needful was in a dead man. A secret in his torn pocket. Along came the dead man fighting for his life. The fox heard his cry and leaped for his heart. The fox had saved him by cardiopulmonary resuscitation. And that's a plot twist that nobody is ever ready for.

In the torn pocket was a shard of mirror. Gazing upon it's own reflection, the fox found itself. The reflection of it's strength, the image of it's survival temperament. Out came the claws, the dead man was shreds...

But the story is short.
Like an Alzheimer's thought. 
All pain is illusion.
All joy is delusion. 
And your strive is the only real truth.

Thug Poetry - II

they winnin',they chillin'
they whole life stealin'
they dont give a fuck bout how we must be feelin'

drop arms boys,this aint no revolution
take turns boys,for that peaceful resolution

we thug,we tuff,we make em bleed
we slice and dice,got mouths to feed

we 99,they outta time
they grab and scream
sayin "this be mine!"

we been watchin',we be waitin
we know your time,it be comin'!

in the shadows we be lurkin'
like in Crasters Keep,we be waitin'

take your time,eat your cake
when tomorrow comes,its yours i take.

Thug Poetry

rat race,set place,im ready to go
cool face,gun cocked and ready to blow
boom vroom charge past your party line,
im never gonna get her back home in time
she says shes scared and she wants to go
take a look around girl this aint Kansas no mo'
this is infamy,my death to be,this is where i live
take a turn with me,drop burn with me and watch me spin
lock phasers,fire tracers,get em off my back
stunned faces,burnt bridges now theyre pulling me back
into the black
where they can tell me what to do
i fight back
i take back
i lose ground
i stand down
i stand up
they beat me down
im zoned out
im cloned in
im lining up
and they win.

They win.

Blue

There's alot in this world that we will never truly understand.

Our imagination will always be beyond the reach of our ability to rationalize . We still believe that a some ethereal being controls the universe around us and rewards good behavior while damning those who do wrong in the next life. But there is nothing stopping the bombs and the killing and the raping we see around us right now.Justice is deferred till its convenient for the Big Man. 

Yet we constantly strive to find the logic in the wonder around us. The magic that has faded away,what was once so pure in our youth,replaced by science and sleight of hand.

But there is still strangeness in the world around us,little pockets of wonder that some stumble upon,every now and then.

Thing is, not all of it is good. Sometimes,things hidden in the dark are supposed to stay that way.

Maybe thats what happened to me.

In the cold,rolling hills of Ooty.

I was young,not more than 7 or 8,yet I remember all of it,just like it was yesterday.

Driving down a narrow road,a remnant of the Raj. It was strange there,a distant silence was all around us. We all fell quiet of our own accord.The mist gathered around us in a tight embrace,holding us closer to its chilly bosom.

The trees seemed darker here,gathered along the sides of the road,flanking us in a form of macabre guard of honor. What started off as late afternoon fell quickly into twilight,the orange warmth of the sun replaced by the blue tinge of nothing. 

Its not the pitch dark we should fear. Darkness can be driven away by light and the Moon constantly stands watch over us,through even the darkest cloud. Twilight is where evil breeds,when our worlds share a moment with the worlds beyond the Veil.

Soon,but not soon enough.We were out of it.We were leaving the trees behind.The mist started to clear. A tinkle of laughter,and conversation resumed. A shadow of a smile crept across my face. What had I been so afraid of?

I stole a glance back,on my knees on the backseat,peering through the rear window.

And the image burned into my memory.

From every tree,every branch.

They were everywhere.

Hanging,swaying in the dead wind.

Eyes rolled into heads,only the whites on their petrified faces.

Sagging flesh,grey and blue.

Mouths wide open.And inside,only darkness.

A hundred? Maybe more.

Men,women and children,hung by the neck.

Keeping an eternal watch over the road.

My father later told me that there had been a small uprising in the area once,the tiny ones you never really heard about back then. It clearly had been dealt with.

I stumbled on something that day.I found something in the dark. I opened a door. I wonder if ever closed it that day.I wonder if I brought something back. I wonder if when I looked back,I reached through the Veil and touched on something old,something ancient.

Maybe...

Even as I write this down,she tells me to stop.She tells me I've said enough.She reaches over my shoulder and drags my hands away. Her touch is cold.

Her hair floats in the stillness around her. Fatigue overcomes me. She tells me I shouldn't have written all of this down. That I've said too much. That the dark belongs to them,not to us. I've angered her.I can see it in her eyes. She tells me what to do.

She tells me she loves me.

I can barely keep myself awake.

 She says I'll be with her soon.

 I cant wait.

Regret

This my last emotion
This is all I have

I have laid it at your feet
I have spent it getting to you
Reaching out to you
Calling out your name
As the waves of Disappointment crash over me
Around me

This is my last emotion
I have no more to give
Tears hang suspended
Words caught in my throat
So much you need to know
Before its too late

Cogs and wheels,spent time
Days devoured,empty hours
I spent to much in the last straight
I felt I had but one chance
That only meant i was ever going to be too late

This is my last emotion
It is mine.
Mine to cherish,to hold ,to bury
There will be no more for you to take away
There is no more for me to give.

I have my Regret,
You have your Satisfaction.