A Hierarchy of Angels

Forgive me if I fail to see

The flattery in your Joie de vivre

Correct me if I’m insincere

In disregarding the context of your cheer

What’s left tomorrow is often the rejected

Frames of today

Distinguish yourself through honor

Open your heart to verite and

All the lies will fade away

Forgery of purpose is impossible

If dedication is one’s only vice

Destitution of promise is but

A reflection of internal strife

To calm such seas in tumult

Simply intuit the breath, exhaling

All denials and debilitating thrush

And such is the way

And such is the path

     To delve fully in such direction

     Is to submit to potent tracts

In truth there is forgiveness

In strength one finds the gravity of love

     In harmony there lives a peaceful serenade

     Serenity one could almost touch

As one walks the valleys of the parent

All allegories are revealed

When one accepts all that is as what is served

There will be a hierarchy of angels revealed

Getting Outside The Blocks Within

I’ve been searching for the perfect breath,

Yet too far many times, all I’ve discovered

Has been the intensity which congestion brings

Within.

I’m looking for the greatest role, to utilize my talents, to bring me close to a centered space, to stand still amongst the moving rush, yet, so far, even the extra slots are filled…

Without.

I’m passionate about many things, yet what good does passion bring, when the odds are stacked 

Out of favor.

The dreams are squelched, the rhythm's bent, disturbed like a selfish child, concerned only with his own self

Inside.

It’s enough to make you wish your dreams away, to some fields that reward success to those holding ethics and effort much higher than what is often considered by most

Self-Centered Partitions.

And to those that still believe in hope.  There is hope.  

Inside and then Out.

And to those still believing in knowledge. There is knowledge. and to those who not only have the capability to learn, yet also possess the ability to eagerly share these gifts to others. There is Community.

Outside and Within.

Distancing. Afar/near/close/Away. Skylines. Spectacles. Bravado in name alone. Restricting space between, communion is relevant once more.

Internal Mergers.

To gather the necessary crops, the reaper needs his sickle.

To till the mind, nurture requires many moments

Beyond what many seem to offer…(sometimes)

Love is a deadly word.  Vulnerability is feared less; yet, it would make sense, if one should claim the opposite.

External Vision.

A Voice for the Self-referentially metaphoric

This is a poem about poetry.

It incorporates all the good parts

And eviscerates the bad

Into scattered fragments

Resting someplace between

Ellipsis and the margin notes

This is a poem about survival.

It harnesses the freedom one feels,

When hovering at the imminent

Point of no return, staring firmly

Into the inevitability, only moments

After you’ve come to turns with

Your own mortal voice

This is a poem about poetry.

It incorporates all the living parts of

Life and makes a mess of each of them.

And in so doing, it makes the dead portions

Seem much better than they ever really were

But please, do not blame the metaphor,

For the error resides solely within the author,

And he’s completely fine with that