Kerosene Bill

What if it was all in vain?
What if today, yesterday and tomorrow never happened?
What if my existence was all an illusion
of bad choices and mounds of regret?
What if love is no longer concrete…after I lost her?
Abbrassive conditions and rash decisions
are not exactly a good practice of thought,
it’s a big difference between what we can do
and what we ought

Imagine reading your last letter for the first time,
as time that was taken for granted
and no longer exist

We are classified by what is veiwed of us,
classified by what has been spoken of us,
but no one seeks truth for the sake of us
Thus, the blind leads the blind in a coal mine…no lamps

As things in life take shape and form,
from one life that passed to another thats born
We watch, as it moves on
Shapeless,
colorless,
odorless…gone.

Recently I was asked by someone to write something at random based on the title “Are You Serious?”. Here’s how it went.

Are You Serious?

Serious about what? The fact that I came to class in the rain? Knowing that I was tired, but I still gathered enough energy to make it to my evening class? I would say that I am quite serious. Serious enough to continue this process long enough to gain a degree. Serious enough to let my kids know that I was determined. Serious to a point where I’m willing to run on fumes with an implemented taste of “close to no sleep”. Excuse me, while I wrap this nice little box of seriousness and send it through UPS, only to be returned back to sender that states, “Yes, I’m serious”.

As I stand
with my feet firmly planted
I keep in mind that words and moods
placed into the universe can move planets

Granted that I am NOT perfect
but I do attempt self-correction
a reflection of me to see where I went wrong
but what you don’t see
due to your arrogant veil of burlap
is that certain experiences
may help you become a better person

…if you acknowledge them

Don’t hide
reality surrounds every one of us
in which few have the motivation
to move forward…awkward.

She called me apologizing
for everything she did
…But I told her don’t worry about it

Crying, saying sorry
for things that could have been a might be
…But I told her don’t worry about it

I had to move forward
staying with her was backwards

Stagnant-

Little did she know
that I knew her devious actions
counter acting against her “clever” plan

Stealth Manner-
While I quietly observe
her and the other man

She called and called
apologizing and crying
she asked can she call again
and hopefully we can get pass it

…But I told her don’t.

The weirdo is what I am considered
due to taking thought a step further
while you stay trapped in your box
that’s most common-
wrapped with a little scotch tape
and your pretty ribbon

I orbit around fools like you
from June to June
with whirlwind spins
and the impacts of typhoons
Just from observing your molecular structure
I can see through you

Boo…

while you make attempts
and try to strategize how to deter my focus
my thoughts come as many
with the swarm of locus

As you make plans to demolish
those you’ve stripped of who they are

…I am I

so patiently I wait for the right time…
to leap at the opportunity
for you to ask for a cup of tea
returned infused with a colorless
odorless fluid of deceit with a lean

with your tactics of advertisement
and cell phones full of distraction
common sense is now expensive
in the land of the poor

This is what you created before your exit

…insanity

only the few are strong
and the many are weak
but yet I still glide through your storm
but the future…bleak.

I actually love this one.

Published: 1730

As I was going to St Ives
I met a man with seven wives
Every wife had seven sacks
Every sack had seven cats
Every cat had seven kits
Kits, cats, sacks, wives
How many were going to St Ives?

As I stand here
more than willing to give you my all
you stomp and you holler
about how you deserve more

from the top of your lungs
our relationship took a plunge

Deep…

To a point where
you caused me to swim up for air
but you held my head down
in the depths of your selfishness
causing me to swim deeper
Backstroking and talking to dolphins

Finally I came up for air
with a glare of lost care
there was an emerald reptile
with scales of your childish outbursts
and a tail full of your ignorance

I looked around at the city of love
engulfed in fire
slowly and definitely surely
our love had retired.

I had a professor ask me to not think and write. Write as if I was a 9 year old in a room and happens to over hear a conversation that is coming from the other side of the door and the end result included a gift. Here’s how it went (without thought).

As I sit in a room of four walls painted white with cathedral ceilings and one huge mirror, I hear a conversation outside the door of the four walls of silence. I can’t really make out what the conversation is, so I crawl across the cherry wood floors as quiet as the wood will allow me. The closer I get to the door, the wood starts to creek due to the traffic of adults and over-sized feet. “…creek”, was the last sound the floors made as I got closer to the door, just to rest my right ear and the side of my face to hear clear and a bit more. It was two adults, both male and female with mentions of a gift, will they speak further more or will it be quick “…creek”. The sound came from the other side of the door, I was filled with anxiety, that I would get caught. As I gagged and the door nob turn half pass, it opens up. Happy Birthday they said, with a gift of a toy truck.

In this world of uncertainty
And intelligent stupidity
I am not suppose to voice
My pure opinion on things…

That dont make sense

Because of my snappy wit
Equipt with sarcasm
I am considered abbrasive
Depending on the given subject

In all honesty, its not me
It all about how you recieve
Without offense being taken
Mistaken me for someone who “sugar-coat”

Pure, no additives nor perservatives
But you assumed that i’d be that tall jar of jam
To spread across your ego

No…

I don’t bite my tongue
But I do speak when needed
You assumed and expected
A response from me that was not given

…and you’re offended.

As I scribble with scribes
with lines that baffle
Punctuation’s and CAPITAL letters

A sentence…

Is created structure for the written
How to write this
How to write that
Literary Laws as I shake my head

And pause…

From archaic times
where rocks drew lines
Sometimes a few lines
Could help pass the time

Movement of words
and slurs of speech
convenience of rhymes
with hopes to teach

Peaks of a zenith
with light of a Phoenix
Protecting the mind
with the warmth of a fetus.

As I stand here firm
anticipating your first blow

Life…

Tries to hit me
across my face
as I brace and dodge
with the grace of superb chi
in and out I breath
to relieve the tension
and negativity you brought forth
while I wipe off and dust off
with the “Bounce Back” of a dandelion

As you attack
I counter act
windmill spins with wind
I defend your ignorance

Life…

I use your body weight
to work against you
equally distributed with vengence
of all you put me through

I center myself…

non-resistant with patience of a stone
steadfast for your next lash
…but I remain calm.

As she parties hard
without a care in the world
Not thinking of her son
and her little girl
Around the world
is how she wants to travel
But its her luxurious babble
That has her unfocused and irresponsible
Man-to-man is how she plays the game
Weighing out her options
to financial gain

Lame…

The way she views people
And how they “fit” into her schedule
No comment if you don’t benefit

…her

Regression of an adult
She’s the blame
But she claim its your fault
Arrogance in its absolute form
Thinking shes the king of the board
When shes just a pawn
Chasing after what she never had
Always wanting what she cant grab
She comes first
Her children come last
Sad…

As most children believe, everyone is to be sleep…at least before midnight. While sugarplums dance in their head and happiness stirred about Christmas day, there was an unknown factor that made them afraid. No one wondered how Santa pondered. As gifts were delivered in ways you wouldn’t consider. Have you ever thought of the actual name of  “Santa’s Little Helper”? Or just thought it was a good thing or a person without a real name?

While Santa crawls into each and every chimney, with gifts he plan to give each, there was another entity that some may consider a creep. As Santa reaches in and out of his bag, there are thoughts of good and thoughts of bad. Quietly, he walks around your house, without a sound…not even a mouse. Tiptoeing through your living room, down the hall and to your bathroom, slowly but surely he enters your bedroom. While you slumber beneath the moon, he eagerly marvels over silhouettes of you.

“He knows when you are sleeping, He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake…”

Kris Kringle is the name they gave him, it just so happens there are things people are afraid to mention. With the stench of a rancid corpse the five-foot miser, frail with hair that’s coarse takes a sniff…closer and closer to you as you snore. He looks over you like a vulture to prey; he swoops down on you in his own imaginative way. With an evil grin from ear to ear, rotten teeth and ruffled beard, he’s not nearly the greatest, but the absolute worse.

“He knows when you are sleeping, He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake…” is how the song is said on the breaths of young children before they go to bed, leaving a plate of cookies for Santa in hopes to rest their head. After each house is visited across the globe, one child is missing from home to home.

The myth about the elves is just a fairy tale, a story that sounds good, something that sounds swell. People always wondered the actual description of these little Imps, but in all actuality it was just a mass of abducted kids. As Kringle shifts into gear for once each and every year, a staff is accumulated, of kids far and near.

Kringle is the man that is feared by many, among all ages, from five to seventy. You must understand the plight of travel by night, its utterly insignificant to those who are naughty or who’s nice. Please bear with me as I tell an untold tale, of a man who seemed decrepit, with a missing layer of scales. As he twitch with a fowl stench, stockings are stuffed, with clumps of coal bricks. No one could have ever imagined the mind of this man, that both Santa and Kringle was one in the same man.

So please keep mind, and be sure to tell folks. Be sure to tell family, be sure to tell foes, “Santa Clause is coming to town…”

ME: I think I’m finally getting the message of enlightenment and the light of brilliance…

HER: What can you see?

ME: The world in 2mins