Ques?ion

Fuck your hustle.
Ambient noise means shit to the sound of sirens and lights lighting your face
silhouetting your figure against the cold brick project walls.

Wind provides not but a chill.
painting the heart with the fear of incarceration
fear of facing fire as the first fallen soldier.

Trapped in a maze, thrashed by waves
falling from the branch, chosen for its strength
lost at sea.

the breath of the man in the cell next door
curls my toes, scared of what’s next
doors close with no sinks to clean my hands.

childhood erased.
life erased.
through glass, hand prints are merely that.

the music dies
while the harvest waits for the farmer.
slowely withering to a bed of thorns

Wind blows the child away,
over a cliff he leans.

Where ambient noise touches the blind eyes of sound,
grace embraces me whole.
Life embraces word embraces the oratory freedom of the lips.

the wind waters my hair with cloud spittle and dirt clods
painting my heart with specs of laughter
along with the scent somber content.

No maze can control me, or waves thrash me
while suspended on the endless branches of tranquility.
the berries taste sweeter and temptation is lost at sea.

I see beyond the leaves and breathe the open air.
Curl my toes on the rocks of the shore,
swim through the tranquil waterfalls, where I wash my hands clean.

The troubles of childhood and heartache of blistering love
are lost in the hands of love. Where eyes water once eyes close shut.
A hand, touching a hand, touches the heart.

a heart touches a heart where man starts to play his part
turning deserts into flourishing forests, gold waves of grain,
and a single throne of thorns.

I have been lost in light gusts between the tall grass...

Two forces pull at me at all times
My heart.
My mind.
I,

understand that,
time,
time,
again I see this demon.

Oh, what a Problem
recurring, summerly,
Solve them I feel,
but I am utterly lost.

The light is airy,
free young,
fragrant youth.
But we are always old.

Locked in chains,
I gain perspective on that which I've elected
as My own.

Appointed to my mind
my heart senses danger.
Do Not Enter.
So I learn the edges,

I learn the mind
through mine own.
heart hurts, eyes cry
alone.

love is love is love
but love in love is special.

I have reached my threshold of pain,
such a pain fills my head,
my brain, with thoughts
I must surpress to prove again to myself
that I am in control.

Because my brain lives in duality
I am black and white,
two simple personalities,
one volitile, one mild,

I switch. I have no control.

But she reminds me how to see,
showers me with the love lacking alone,
basement tears, gin and beer.
Hope is where my heart is.
Home is where my fears live.

On a bench, cold Macadamia nut.
Organic, blind to ambient noise,
Sound to blind ears food.

Brunswick, Bloor, Bar, Bakery.
Breakfast blind Benedict,
Sipping coffee.

Frozen nosed students, walk through the door, snow blind.
Cold? come sit, coffee, cream, croissant, cake,
Danish.

Door drips,
It’s winter, everyone eager,
Expecting freedom

From expectations, from
Even downpour, cold, brutal asylum.
Wind whips face, eyes blind.

Fucking freedom, friends cant find you,
Go here, come.
Hindsight hurts, hindsight halts, hindsight hard to hone.

Books bake in children’s bare palms.
Calm, cool, collect, cold, blind.
Alas, basic action calls.

Books down, cursive writing,
Writing cursive coffee depletes.
Blind to ambient noise.

Crushing blows to blind eyes,
Children fear, for expectations drop.
Boys, girls, growth halts

As friends go away.
Go away for freedom friends,
Open your eyes.

Open your eyes,
Cold coffee free. Break Fast, eyes blind,
But bay, bloor, bar, bakery

Constrains you. Freedom?
Freedom from blindness?
Fool, failure, free.

Good. He’s institutionalized.

Properly ornamented,
With mature intelligence,
Benihana holds his own.

But always come home.