i really want the life i live to be full. Full of energy, life itself and hope and good solid right! i get hit in the face with the devil and i deny the feeling. I am blessed. beyond anything that can be defined. I have the best friend everyone has ever wanted, the best granny ever and the friends that are there are amazing to even deal with me. I grow in myself constantly; knowing my faults and not taking critique personally. I need no one but God but haave so many more. There are no ideas that can compare to the rollercoaster that is my life. i feel and it feels surreal. but i am happy in it.

I get no other chance and i need none.. i am happy in it. and i will rejoice and be glad...

War Child

War child, with the stains of a million years on your face,

your naked body scratched and bruised by a war that is not yours,

but it is one you will have to continue to pretend to finish.



The wet in your eyes holds stories that will never seep from your lips.

Your stains will form you into the next militant,

and is that not your fault?



The fault of nations colliding is stamped into your DNA,

like an unwanted chromosone.



The fault line of the future is weak in your skin,

and the blood you have drenching your hands,

was the only way you knew to handle the situation.



Where is the God that is for the Child that has the stains of a million years on his face?

Where is the War childs God,



Where is the Genocide Angel

Where is the Guerilla angel

Where is the Suicide Bomber angel



Where is the War childs Chance in Hell to present its case to the final judgement!



"It is not my fault! I am only a solid product of my direct enviroment!"

War child with your stained heart and your weak mind! Build your strength in the reliability of those that wage hate amongst the human Race! War child Present your case!



Who will represent you in your time of need....

War child, you have no needs..

your product is of those that minipulate your weakness.. your youth is your curse. But your curse is your own.



War child, kill yourself before they do it for you.. sign your own warrant of death ,and then your ineveitables will be stopped and you can pass through with out the worry of needing a representitive.



War child wipe your face and and rid your self of history, we dont need a war child release, we already have enough disease!

Eurtepe

I feel like Euterpe. I am rejoicing and giving pleasure to the one I seek. I fill the Air with my hearts music hoping that he will come. Playfully I lure him in playing the flutes, dancing, chirping, splattering paint if need be. Whatever may bring him closer to me, I will muse him. I will be his siren but not his demise. Unlike the 8 other sisters and Homer, I refuse to drown him in his fantasy.

I want to Muse to make him a greateer being. I want him to create more and more so to not stagnate.
I want his soul too, but I want everyone to have a peice of his creativity. I want to look into his eyes and see my breath, in each blink I want to mollify into his smile.
The tune that floats with each bat of his lash will slide over my cheek as I inhale the breath that it makes my lungs yern. I will suffocate in his exhale.

Is this an Illusion? No, I am the Muse that eludes his soul. I will take him in my mouth and make him my flute, I will employ his heart and let him relax... as he creates the love I feel for him in my soul by simply looking at me.. I am his Muse. I need to call no other body!

I want to live! Love!

I am free. I am solid and revolutional. I have came to terms with the fact that material things are a myopic curse. I visualize myself with a life free of these materials that I find myself embodying. I want to lose the sight of the worldly things and become an invisible entity. Creating things and words that will touch people without a mundane concomitant. I want to caper in my bare feet and feel nothing but happiness. And with all that happiness I consume with the simple sand in my toes, I want to watch it spread. I want to kiss the lips of a lover with out the binds of labeling. I want to be free in the thought of them. I want to make love with them and embrace the fact that they are human and not worldly. I want to create without procreating. I want to close my eyes and glide through the rings of Saturn. Dance in the light of the nebula. What is it that makes us humans so un volatile. Change is good. It keeps me entertained. I love to love and I love to live. I want to be free of the constant chaos that all the angry energies of the bureaucracies place into our societies. The human race is killing itself and it saddens me. But, I have realized in my venture that I cannot waste my time on things I have no control over. I should begin with the control I know I do have, and that is my direct area! I will control my feelings and my surroundings and go from there. I will smile with my smiles and sing with my lovers(physical and mental). I want to make my self complete in the eyes of those who appreciate the good in life.

I want to live!

Sitting patiently in the waiting room of the hospital I observe the little old ladies and men as they cackle, snore and cough. I hate hospitals. It really bothers me that we will all eventually fall apart and not be able to take care of our selves. Really, all this time spent to reflect and return to our childhood, only to be more difficult due to size. The diapers get bigger as the skin begins to sag and the mind begins to forget all the good times you put all your heart into. What is the reasoning behind this? It almost seems unreasonable. People go everyday with the thought that the moment that they live in is the only moment available. But as i sit here in my boredom and think, there are a million others out there doing the same process, just different outcomes. Every idea different. All these little thoughts processed and to only be waisted away in wrinkly mass of death. I believe that my soul will be sent to God when i die. I just don't understand all this around me. Where did it all come from. OR is the purpose of all this to just have no purpose. All this time wasted on wondering is a filler for the fact that there is nothing there to worry about. we live, we die, walla. WE are a disease almost. we eat up every natural resource out there, even the ones we personally do not need. We are a spot on the lung of mother nature. I was observing the pictures of the Hubble telescope, fantastic, really makes you think about how small we really are. Are we an explosion of gas contained and framed by our inner gravitational pull? I am sooooo confused.
The walls in the hospital are covered with still framed canvas printed memories. Memories of maybe adventures or back yard views. They are covered with Butterfly topped flowers, exotic birds and labored sunsets. Mosaic art, obviously from an impressionist vision. All this creativity to sit and be viewed and be forgotten. I feel alone when i stare at these pictures. I try to think how I wish that I could be these photos. Never aging; stuck in a moment of beauty for all eternity. Someone strolling can stop and glance and when they look in my still permanent staring eyes and can see a history, and/ or make there own for me. But, my soul will be encapsulated in that stare, starring back. Hoping for them to take a picture of the picture and pass it on to be sent through time as a passer-by's thoughts. Now that would be the way to travel.
The carpet of the hospital reminds me of a cheap hotel in Puerto Rico. I can see Hunter S. Thompson in the front desk area checking in. The bamboo leaf silhouettes surrounded by the different shades of beige greens mix well to give you that in land beach scene feel. i bet there are mites in it. I bet they live there, sipping there toe skin cocktails and forging little facilities for there non structural being? what am i talking about.
We chose the kids section to sit in. We have our own TV and our own little section. no kids yet, thank God. don't think i could handle that right now, the hospital has taken over my mental and i think i might need to go drink some hand sanitizer i am getting lost.