Caricature of a Nation

Scared of our own reflection;
Scared of our own voice.
Lazily choosing poorly,
Lazily mis-choosing choice.

Conscience and talk of guilt
Like a concerned friend.
Conscious and full of hope;
Living as a means to an end.

Can't walk straight;
Can't talk straight.
Living off day and for night;
Living by sound and not by sight.

Extend the crotch and the nose;
Fill in the eyes with abundant woes.
Expand the dimness of mental strength
Finish the folly with unequaled length.

Problems without solutions,
Problems without absolution.
How do we choose prudence?
How do we reach resolution?

Deus ex Veritas

Large eyes closed in a smile:
Beauty as cruel as guile.
Love found in the passion of youth
And forged in the fires of truth.

Let me learn the folds of your skin
And the lines on your face.
Let me live by your side and
Become the reason why I wake.

When my eyes forget their purpose
And my mind grows dim,
May my fingers remember
Their old calluses on your skin.

If my legs grow tired from
This evanescent existence,
I know your long arms will pick me up
And carry me hence.

I know how to sin;
Teach me how to atone.
I know how to hate;
Teach me how to love.

arc life

this world is flat and shallow
full of faces like masks
and smiles like cracks.

i've been asleep all my life,
cerulean eyes shut like drapes.

we collect trifles for what we are
just to conceal the amoral
who we are.

and even amidst an exodus of truth and life,
i'll keep my eyes fixed on the sky,
crying for You.

empathis

what came before occupation?
purity and atrophy and apathy and
a bit of magic, synaptic surrealism.

our faces as a mirror for someone else.
looking into yours, seeing myself with
sober hands holding a thirsty glass.

longing to see those who have left.
living to see those who have left.

trying to remember a time when
problems were in math books and
shit was in bathrooms.

my life exists in the highlighted regions of
books i'll never understand and
glimpses into houses i’ll never drive past.

stretching my wings, poised and ready,
for my fall from grace.

soul expression

alone again, wondering:
why must the reddest apples always be bitter?
why must the reddest leaves always be withered?

lies gather like lode in the cracks of my life.
flowery prayer and fervent neglect;
far removed from a past i always commit.
more stains upon an already impure heart. always more.

starting off in the wrong key
and forgetting to strike the last note.
does it matter? “never,” You say.

soul expansion

the oasis of conflict is almost dry.
no more hope of living in this desert of deceit.

fickle youth pulling my hand backward
and gray age dragging me forward.
forget my arms!

tomorrow i'll wake up in a heaven
with eyes that don't worry or weep.

you were the words i couldn't write,
but now i won't have to.
i don't need to wait for life to begin.