Runaway

He escapes into the forest as the runaway flee's from his lost home. The shinning moon graces his presence as he steps over a fallen tree. The only sound he hears is crickets and the cold leaves shiver in the December air. He's completely alone. He looks into the stars eyes for more. Direction. He follows suit, as he finds his way to a set of old trains at a station that are barley still running. he decides instantly to jump into a empty cargo train car, wrapping himself in a old bag for warmth. His stomach growls even louder when he looks down and notices that it is in fact; a empty rice bag.

digging My Own grave

My shovel is made from gold
the ground is quicksand
my gravestone reads "blank"
damn this wasn't the plan
I need an escape
so i grab a snakes hand
he pulls me up at first
then he bites at me, so i ran
back to the quicksand
eternally i'm damned
my endless digging continues
as the night becomes day
the sun looks at me
and says there's another way
she says in a soothing voice "The deeper you dig the deeper you get, you grave only becomes wider and harder to miss. Stop your journey now and let it begin. The end is near, this is your last dying sin."
So let it begin, I think to myself
She is as wise as beautiful so I listened with care
As the night falls again I let the sand begin it's tare
it's cold and it's everywhere

it suffocates me dry and dazes my eyes
so i close my eyes and hope for the pain to be realized
but then I feel a breeze
The soft wind on my cheek
I open to see myself sitting on a street
Between a fork in the road, and a kid all alone
Alone on the dirt road
looking for a bus ride
just trying to find a way home.



(When I say "I" in my writing i'm never talking about myself in this moment. This is never about myself. Just emotions of people. And things I've seen and heard.)

I look up to see nothing but caged animals let free as they rush to the scene, blood pumps through their veins and adrenalin is taking control. They jump up and down in a frenzy of laughter and cheers at the battle below the tables they stand on. I take a step back and lean against the wall, not looking at the reason of the frenzy but the animals enjoying the chaos. Blindness sweeps them as they continue to watch the battle rage on, one punch two punch three, a animal's down. Cheers and laughter roar from the crowd as the animals begin stomping on the tables and laughing, caught up in the situation that's become a TV show for me. I can't relate. I'm not saying I've never become a animal before, I can never say I won't again. I can't predict the future. But I still regret it though, as we all say we regret how we don't realize how fast time goes by. I'n the end it makes me wonder how I relate to the animals running and jumping on tables laughing at others pain. It worries me for the future, and it frightens me that we don't know our past. I could say I rather be isolated from it all, live on some island somewhere and kick my feet up and read a decent book; but in reality I need that connection. We all do, it keeps our human connection. It's disappointing but those animals I was talking about are still our brothers, sisters, neighbors, and fathers. They're everyone. But one day I wish not to worry about someones foot kicking my tray off the table because they're standing on top of it yelling. But hey, It's just some fight at lunch. I should just enjoy the free entertainment.

The Cover

"This cover is fantastic, the art and beauty behind such a masterpiece of literature is astounding, to think that someone put in so much effort and imagination into this breathtaking piece of work. I don't think I've ever seen something so magnificently well done, do you see how he created the figure into it right here? Just astonishing." Chelsea says with amazement.

"Yeah it's something alright-" Jake angrily exclaims.

"It's nearly undefinable." 

"-Yeah, but what do you think of mine?"

"You're cover?"

"Yes, did you like how I put it together?" Jake then pulls his cover out. A crudely drawn sunrise with tall trees and cool waves from a beach coming in to greet you as the morning rises. 

"Well... It's a start, it doesn't pop nearly as much as that God like masterpiece over there... but it's ok."

"Oh. Well did you see what was inside his cover?" 

"No No, that's not important; that cover-" 

"Well just take a quick look, It may surprise you." He says with a annoyed look.
"Well you're rose inside your cover was fabulous, I don't see why I have to... Oh."

"Oh?"  He yells sarcastically. 

As she looked inside the cover, all she saw was a small dull ridged piece of coal.

"Well... That's very disappointing" She says with a frown. 

With a laugh Jake says "His exterior beauty can only cover up so many lies. Bye."

Jake then walks away leaving her with a beautiful cover rapped around a dirty piece of coal. After a few minutes she already begins missing his rose, and runs after him. She drops the cover on the ground, destroying some of the beauty she claimed she loved so deeply only a few minutes ago. A piece of the coal is noticed from the top of the cover, and everyone that passes by notices the clear beauty, but also notices the clear wrongness. Everyone avoids it.

In a perfect world. Only In a perfect world.

Four Clean White Walls and A Ceiling

Was once your room but now it's a namless shame. All you see is faces laughing at your so called reign, but these walls are so plain, what gives them a right to laugh at my pain? Can't they see they're to blame, giving me looks of indecision and flame. Don't they deserve the same? I was just looking for the fame, they always are trying to take that away. But the walls get louder the more I notice them, they sufficate me deep and I just hold it in, I stay to myself trapped in what I created then. No exits here just holes of self patroling sins. So why do I speak of the evil that's clearly within. Why can't they just soar away like the cool wind. The four clean white walls and the ceiling to match, have no name and are clearly intact. In every home of every person they claim to rest. waiting for the day of the fool to become depressed. They'll suck you in and look at you with blank eyes, and say to you "you need to really recognize. This isn't a self profiling prophesize life of lies, you're creating it because you can't just visuallize a world without these horrid cries. Just close your eyes and sleep and don't stare at me, because just like you I don't know why children are starved to the point that the only thing unbony is their cheeks. So rest your head, and let your mind free. your slumber will free you from that wunder.

Reflections, Mirrors, and Illusion

Mirrors have always interested me, from simiply how they work to a simple idea of looking at ones self. It's a reflection of what you are in the universes eyes. But at the same time there are those mirrors you see at carnivals that are disorted reflections and illusions of what your eyes are creating. It's not what really is, It's a illuison that your eyes create. You're really not in 20 places in the mirror room, it's just you and a room of mirrored reflections. So is it the universe that has created these prospectives or just the eyes attatched to our brains? But if it was our brains alone that created these images of who we are wouldn't they be perfection to us? Wouldn't there never be a person who felt "fat" or "ugly"? Maybe we're programmed to see different things, just as we see ideas differently and all have different interests. Maybe it's only relevent to the people that think about it. But if you arn't thinking about what or who you are, it seems you'll never realize where you're going.

What do you think you're doing?

Interesting line, makes me think. Just think about that statement... "What do you think you're doing?" I know exactly what i'm doing and why I'm doing. But maybe my 'thinking' is off. Maybe my whole 'philosophy' is wrong. But hey, I'm the only person to tell myself I'm screwing up. Then again, who cares what anyone else's thinks unless it harms them. Right? I could just say only God can judge me, but that's a lie. We all have our own perspective at what's decent or right in this society. But in the end we're all islands, just hit by the waves that surround us. So I guess It's unavoidable. Something we deal with as people. Our plain eyes can never see the back of our head, Only another. We depend on others for the feedback but hate when we receive it in a negative light. The consequence of honesty is a riddle that we all must find the answer to. But let's not over analyze a simple set of words. It's just a simple question. What do you think you're doing?

Yep.

The Island


Born into a fired heat of passion, the sun and the moon brings forth the island. Small but strong, it shines around nothing but the deep dark blue sea. Surrounded but alone the island begins to grow. Trees sprout from the island’s fertile dirt, promising for long life and fresh fruit. The island had a very untraditional feel to it, there was a small mountainous region in the far east of the island where a small goop of lava purged itself high above it all. Sometimes a few drops would spew out, catching a small fire on the grassland, it would last for days; but never spread. And would not, and could not stay lit forever. In the west there is a large beach like opening, welcoming the sea onto the island. The sea would never go past the sand, the tide would come in, and come out and sometimes leave a gift for the island. Life. It would wash up fish, beautiful fish. All very different in there own respect. They were tall and small, thick and skinny, and smooth and rough. The sea only gave away 9 of their fish. But as the fish hit the grassland they became different, one became a bunny, another a snake, a kangaroo and a baby in it’s pouch. Strangely that was only one fish. The transformations continued. A two year old parrot, owl, a family of deer, sloth, hyena, and last but not least a gang of wild chimpanzees. The animals were reckless, tearing down trees and digging up the dirt, the chimps even dared to climb the mountain side and throw lava onto the grassland. As the chimps began to hurdle the lava onto the grassland, large fires emerged and engulfed part of the island. The chimps smiled in joy and giggled amongst there selves. And as the fires raged on, the chimps had noticed something in the morning sky which surprised them. The sun and the moon were right next to each other and were getting closer. Soon the sun and the moon had collided together and made a eclipse which surrounded the entire island. The raw beauty and power of the eclipse had blinded all the animals on the island. Then as soon as the flash came, it was over. The fires had disappeared and the chaos had  calmed, the chimps looked around at the other animals, all trying to recover from the sun and moons combined rage. The chimps were very hesitant to throw the lava again, but they decided that it was to much fun just to stop. Then as the first chimp took a big scoop of lava, a roar so loud it sounded as if Zeus had thrown a thunderbolt down onto the island. The chimps then began to get upset at the strange loud voice, and demanded to see who it was. As that just came across, a large fully grown male lion had emerged near the top of a high rock, staring straight at the chimps. Then all the chimps gave the lion a hard stare back and scurried down the rocks, thinking that it wasn’t the right time.
The island was under control now, the pit of lava grew and the trees began to reach for the stars. In fact it seemed as if the whole entire island had grown. Sadly the prosperity didn’t last long. Heavy rain began to own the island and the large dark clouds blocked out the sun and the moon. It began to destroy what the lion had hoped for. The lion and all the other animals ran into their homes to protect themselves from the falling trees and harsh winds that plagued the island for many days. The lion began to weep heavily at the destruction and decided to sleep until the rain had stopped. As the rain had finally stopped it’s destruction of the island, the first animals that stepped outside were the chimps, who were enraged by the condition of there home. The chimps once again climbed the side of the mountain and began to chuck lava onto the grassland, but they also threw it on the ocean as well. The muddy grassland would let the flames arise for a bit, then they would calm down and disappear. As for the ocean, they would eat up the lava as if it was nothing. As the other animals finally came out of their homes they laid there eyes on the chimps acting out. Then the lion gave out two giant roars and the chimps once again settled down. The storms had hurt the lions soul and spirit greatly and the eternal glow he had shined so brightly before, started to dim. The chimps noticed. As the day had passed the parrot realized it was his 25th birthday, and as the oldest animal he was very proud. He began to show of his beautiful feathers and squawked something that sounded like “wisdom”, as the oldest he believed he was the wisest. The lion chuckled to himself at that. As the celebration continued the hyena snickered and made the other animals smile, besides the bunny who timidly hopped back to his home. But as the day became night the owl became aware of something and began to stare off into the stars of the night. The owl then began to shriek and the noise gave the rest of the animals a warning. They all began to rush back to there homes, unsure of what is to come they just trust the owls judgment. First the kangaroo and her baby hop quickly home, the baby shows uncontrollable love as she squeezes tightly on her mothers stomach. Then the snake slivered into its hiding hole. The parrot and the owl flew far out of sight, and the hyena giggled to himself as he dashed home; the deer flocked together and made their way home as a family. The sloth slowly but surely got home, and surprisingly the gang of chimps smartly climbed the tall trees of the island expecting the worst was yet to come. The lion purged himself high above it all on the rock that he first touched down on. Then as the lion looked over the entire island the silence of it all frightened him beyond belief. Then the roar of the waves were heard. The crashing of them on the hard mountains could be heard all across the island, the water was rising. The wave then raised over the entire island, casting a huge shadow over everything. The lion could only watch it dismay as everything fell apart right in front of him. The whole island was easily a small lake by the time the sea was done with it. Hurt and distort the lion never recovered from the attack and it’s glow was completely gone. The sun and the moon had disappeared all together and were never seen or heard from again, killing the lions soul even more, the only surviving animals were the Lion, Parrot, and Chimpanzees. The chimps were enraged beyond belief at the seas act’s against them and their home. The Chimps pleated to the lion to let them reek vengeance on the sea, and the lion just waved them off and let them do what they pleased. The Chimps danced with joy as they swam across the lake that was once their home and made there way to the still highly peeked lava pool. Each Chimp took a large scoop of the lava into there hands; it burned but they didn’t care. So one by one they threw the large amount of lava at the dreaded ocean, hoping for the destruction of the tyrant called the sea. But strangely the lava didn’t just get sucked up into the ocean as it did before, this time it engulfed and caught into a large rectangular space. It looked as if the gates of hell had opened there door to the island. Then it happened, the island began to get sucked up by this gate of hell. Taking the chimps the lion, and the parrot all. In fact the entire island was sucked up as if it was never even there. If you could look now you would see no sign of a island, just a calm dark blue sea, which had quieted down to nothing and then there was no sound, no motion. Then there was nothing.

Rap music

Yeah I listen to it... constantly... all the time.. every day... for hours.. Yeah, It's become a love of just music and the voice behind it. But some people don't even believe rap is "music". Trust me I've come across them.. But the truth is, most people who just listen to music by the best song out, or the coolest sounding songs are just wasting there time with rap. Of course rap has it's obvious downsides with the clear incentive to make money and have sex with women. That's very clear in a lot of rap songs these days sadly... But I steer away from that type of rap, and what it brings to the culture. I stick with rap with meaning behind it, where there's a flow you can bob your head to, and when you listen it's a amazing story. Maybe that's the reason I like to write with a set rhythmic beat to it. I'm far from a rapper trust me though. But anyway my point is that rap for years has been so deeply rooted into my life it's become something more then just music to me, more then just a beat with a nice hook. A story that I visualize and relate to in almost every way. And if you were wondering who is my favorite rapper? Well that's not much of a question. He's more of a poet anyway. 

Here's a few few songs if you've never heard 2Pac. I know a lot of people have "heard" him, but I mean listen. It gives me goosebumps sometimes when it's the 100th time hearing the songs.

2Pac-Dear Mama And 2Pac-Brenda's got a baby. I made this post for myself to remind myself where I came from. These songs mean a lot to me because of the message I feel from it. I don't anyone to relate that reads this, just to understand. 

I'm tired.

Out of nothingness two long dark pieces of wood come from the abyss, they slowly begin to rub together. One laying flat, and the other rubbing it's end hard into the one laying flat down. Slowly the stick begins to rub, rub and rub. Faster and faster, it heats up with friction and tension. The sticks start turning a hot red from the tension and smoke begins to rise into the abyss. The dark pieces of wood are moving extremely fast now, and the wood looks like it's going to crack, but at that very moment something incredible happens. The Universe is created.

Why I Write the way I write, Why I Rhyme the way I Rhyme

I don't know really why I've wrote the way I have for the blog so far, It's really different and unique to me... At least to me it is. I rhyme for one of the soul reasons to keep you interested and keep a flow and path to it. If I said "People make me sad because they don't care".. compared to.. "It brings me so many tears by those clear jeers." I don't know, to me it interests me more and brings a new element to it which I like, I doubt it's "proper" or the "right way to write" but honestly.. I don't really care if people don't like the style, or even if it resembles poetry or something. I just hope people listen to the words, and hear a story. If that makes sense, I just hope people try to relate and visualize what I try to write about.

Huh.

We can be as quiet as the wind in the dark or louder then a tornado tearing up a park, am i wrong to give holy to the ones of the past. or are we all cursed to live in a sham full grasp. can't we as a people realize the truth, we were never meant to find out what was truth. tell me i'm wrong when i look to my left, i see foolish deviants plotting my death. but then i look to my right and i see a light, wrapped up in coils, nooses and evil plights. so where do i go in this empty whore? I'd say up ahead but that door is closed. trapped in a cycle of tortured souls. can't the wind blow me back to mold. yes, mold me into something, something of light. something to fight in the glorious night. but the wind isn't calling. neither is the storms, just a young man walking all alone. so what am i doing, living in my past. trying to deviate the traps that never ever last. this could be a rant of nothingness in your eyes. but look a little harder. between the lines of life are segments of reality, trapped in it's box of something called actuality. never to touch, but always ends in brutality is that something necessarily in a world of neutrality? no it's lies we arn't all guys we can't realize the words seeing eyes. Idealistic ideas immortalized but what's it worth in reality, nothing. nothing. mothers on crack, selling her babys food for another good smack, yeah. so what's running threw her sack? crack crack crack crack and crack. so what's the message, 16 year old life sentence, what's he missin? kill him on the spot, end his suffer, getting raped on the bathroom floor now that's tougher. just take me then in my own eyes, end my times, i did the crime i shot that cop, even if he was a dirty one. Took his life, for hurting moms. So he's the devil in the systems eyes. nothing to him, but he crossed the line, he's tired of the welfare and sister working the nights. but ideally he can be all right.

His Last Written Words

In this story, it will be a back in forth letter to and from a inmate in prison on death row, and his baby mother which he loves. It's deep and dark, but I think it's honest to what a person in that situation would go through, or at least what I would be thinking at least.

I know that there are clear spelling errors, there will be many. It's making a point to who is in this situation, where there from and why this is happening to them. It's very poetic, i guess. So it may sound a little odd reading it..
Here's the beginning first letter.


Dear sweetie,
How’s ya moma, I’m trapped in this hell, isn’t this a horrid karma. Ya it’s rough down here with the cages busting. and there terror is evidence by the man last week shanked in the office, I can’t live in this tear. I’m about to bust. I can’t live in this prison of animalistic toughs. I hope you hear me, no I hope you listen when I say, my step father raped me in the kitchen midday. I don’t lie now, I’m dieing at 21. Tell my moma I love her and she’s my sun. There’s no tears sweetie, so I hope you don’t shed them, this is a life wasted from a damn pistol set-up. There’s no way your wasting 50g’s just to give me parole before I leave, it’s a waste and you know it, I’m a lost cause no evidence is needed to show it. But the wind blows harder when my ashes will rest, the summer days flee at my last spoke breath, the fall leaves glimmer in my dying wishes, and the spring rains cry in grief at the fact I‘m missin, and the seasons represent my circle of life, that I’ll evolve into my son in perfect delight. I hope you hear the pain underneath the mask, I love you, keep my baby away from my past.


Inmate 23840987

Story

A snippit.

"He then glanced at the symmetry of the cuts he made in the dense brush and smiled and continued on. At this time he started to build up a sweat and really began to get into the motion. Swinging and chopping away, over and over again. But then, he hears it again, louder and more clear. He jumps around to see nothing. Nothing but his own shadow. Confused and annoyed he begins to just walk quickly through the dense forest, just trying to find his way out. The faster he walks the more he hears the strange noises, they sound like clanking metal, and heavy clothes clonking around. Greg is undoubtedly afraid he is being chased by something through this dense forest. The more attempts he makes to run from it, the more noise it makes and the more a fact that something is chasing him. He then peaks his eye around the back of him to see something right in his footsteps, just a split second away. "