The Right Question

When will we know the consequences
of how we live and see?
The most important question is:
Who are we?

When blindness to all suffering ends
and no longer can we flee
we have to ask the question:
Who are we?

Stream of Consciousness

I am the first born
my errors fester with scorn-
never feel the calm before the storm
cuz I'm always beat, ripped and torn.

Eldest child of three
never dealt without Ecstasy
There's joy through grace
unless you're dragging this out for your next chance to get faced!

Oh the nights so short
to short to tell you my mind.
I have to warn you before
you believe all the shit that you'll find.

So I take my medicine-
love doesn't exist without
a way to unwind.

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I bring the corpses to the table
open the closets to truth
there's so much more to revolution
and the pressures of youth.

And she says I'm not mature
for only wanting to soothe
I bring out the corpses from the closet, baby,
this flow is what I choose.

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I'll be your sweet and sour
if you'll be mine every hour.
A gentleman in the streets
but I'm a freak in those sheets.
I'll buy you flowers corresponding
to the days of the week.

Nothing's too insane
it's all a game in the brain-
and logically, reality dictates
the deeply mundane.

Living's not about adventure
and dying is the end.
I've plodded through a dying life
for a lover and friend.
By that I mean someone I can talk to
have passion for that doesn't end.

I'm reusing my rhymes
to illustrate the same message:
I want to fuck, love and chill
and with one other guessing-

about the crazy world we live in
and our thoughts every day
proving each our own uniqueness
in so many different ways.

I live to the hardcore
and I like how it feels-
any other way is to timid
this is my life to the limit.

The Appy Groove

Somewhere beyond the rainbows
somewhere that no one's seen-
I know the empty diatribe
about how somewhere's just a dream-

but oh alas my somewhere's not
I've gone and gone so many times-
and seen the girl with darkened curls
and the bow headed service queen.

I have seen the spinning blades
that trim the whitened cream
and I have cut the roasted ham
to eliminate all the green.

Oh the Ogre hates when I sing
but beneath her rage is so much pain
and so I sing and work for her
and the sun comes out in the rain.

The Colonel comes from 3 - 9
damn chicken! Choose first the Wonderbar
He loves with the conviction of a regal king
and somehow, here, a fallen star.

The bald, diabetic, tells jokes and sings
"oo lala lady gaga!"
and lettuce falls on bread on wings
by the lady who laughs like Zaza.

and to falling:
There's blonde in those baby blues
they're calling
to the bread man to choose.

and fish swim by the unmistakable voice
that chops them down to size
Her lab coat flowing, she's specific
without having to generalize.

And Danny Devito will grant you bills
or rather give them to his wenches
She somehow knows I'll get Mac-and-Cheese
perhaps I'm too predictable and need to come to my senses.

Then there's the night girl
who still has pink in her hair,
chatting with the trimmed beard man
and he stares and he stares and he stares.

The smiles around me in our fortress, protected,
and separated from the outside world by meat-
out there is madness and needs to be corrected
but in here, the days are petite.

An hour goes like a minute for us
and we enjoy the time we have
while others outside are in a rush
we can't go anywhere-
they got us by the gonads.

Becoming Human

I can see the fields of flesh burning
Their young ones awaken to ancient cries-
and they, entombed, in their personal cages yearning
to take every one of their captor's lives.

I'm going my dear and you can't come.
If you don't know where, it's just as well-
Life has beaten me so I run-
though festering behind me is hell.

My mind is lazy, beaten and malevolent
Hell has got me on the run-
Too far from grace has this soul fallen
and I, like them, hate everyone.

Inward Insurection

What happens when you don't have
these good looks anymore?
What happens when you have to think
about others a little more?

You chore, you bore,
you beautiful stallion whore.
you think you know the world
but you haven't the faintest idea the score.

You don't even know the first note
yet you think you're smarter than before
you should go to therapy
because you're not the same as all of us.

Passing Through Misconception

The lightening comes amidst the rain
thoughts for tomorrow but today is pain
and as the last thought comes,
apathy ignites when all's the same.

Blind is the emergence into reality
once your comfortable, you still can't see
emblazon yourself into the higher mentality
or suffer the monotonousness of absolute apathy.

And some day you'll realize your anonymity
some day you'll wake up and see it's all a fallacy.

A brief thought

I reach out to my minstrels, reach out to the chorus/ I've rode so many lies and seen so many die before us/ but I believe in the ideal/ try to seek out what is real/ understand a master plan/ and I see no benevolent band/ even with the fear I see in so many eyes/ I've never truly awoken from the pains that mesmerize/ and feed us to the devil at the end of our lives/ because we're too short sighted and afraid to die. I don't really know a thing I'm just trying to survive/ I want to find a reason for me to stay alive.