There was always something nostalgic about Autumn. Since I wait for the bus just about every morning, I’ve been given the opportunity to watch the gradual change of scenery around me. The leaves slowly swap their clothes. They are first a lavish green, then they change into vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows to express their individuality – much like I. The vast array of tones naturally attracts the curiosity of human eyes. So, I gaze in absolutely awe as the barking trees are left alone. The leaves have now been disconnected from their caregivers. Without parachutes, they sink through the soothing air unto the ground and dress Gaia with a colorful coat, totally disregarding the parents which have given them life. Or perhaps – the misunderstood leaves are martyrs which sacrifice their lives with hopes that the next generation will prosper. Just perhaps. They then harden their exterior to suppress all connections with external understanding, openly coinciding with the harshness and cruelty of physiology. We truly do not understand them. We even blindly press our shoe-covered feet against them and their friends to verify their reasoning.

It’s a multi, not universe, if seen this way. All which exists has its own existence. And in my existence, I enjoy the nature of misunderstanding — fore I am naturally misunderstood, just as the leaves. But Autumn — She explains Herself wordlessly in a cyclical fashion. And Autumn is not reluctant in expressing fashion. She blows the chilling breath of Yuki-onna as I sit on what remains of where leaves once remained. Because of this, She changes people. My friend, on the other hand, is not like I, but is gripped by my cold, right hand. The legacies of the trees which host the leaves are also beneath the tarred ink of my friend. This pen, it depicts the organized structure of spoken language in encrypted form. I sit and write about writing and sitting whilst Autumn massages my tense muscles. I hear the distant rumbles of wood seeking attention around me. Over barren time, they dance in the harmony of Autumn’s breath, longing for recognition. I realize that I’ve recognize them, but then my thoughts shift – just as the seasons. In turn, I only wait for Autumn to come just so that I may watch her leave. I put my friend down, but in order to protect myself from Her full potential, I cover myself with Gaia, steadily walk to the end of a concrete driveway, and wait for a bus.


Obscure Abstract

We face upwards towards your email in a world full of sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, but it’s okay how tough you are. You’re featured in a maze. The room rulebook is going to hit as hard as the “real,” but it’s about to reboot. It’s about Hardy, the Big Blue, and how much any color… could. To keep struggling – it’s all about.

Products are prescribed for life saving. Don’t be something you’re not and continue to walk shadows in the air with the puzzle. I’m re-fighting to showcase my college as long as the children come to a loss and stop his Olympic Games by the paths where cars cross.

In the censorship Smart-Brief, there are those who believe in “yes.” We’ll see the hopes of how she plans to loser her compositions. People close my heart in order to loosen a racial slur. Shots are a hard step. Yes, both of course, although plans for Friday will work in the sun. No small shows, mom. I was going to take charge of my eyes, but I’m searching to see if you’re my neighbor for sure.

In crime percentage, a state shakes and waits for settlement rates to desecrate my shape. I have the right to solve that problem. These songs of songs – they are closed to my friends who have roles to watch. YOU, the whole, won’t stop the people from falling by going to watch it live. Yeah, balls-balls to myself. Sold given up home is not guy. Huge, new this moment-nations in the world consume the situation in order to deal with it as an open book.

She is very complacent. She’s the worst Martinez of problems with certain chronic ear-pieces. It is of my heart before it’s all in black and white. With whatever, there is no need to buy tickets and anticipate this year’s comment of the day. They were set aside and his nephew shot down the government sites. James is missing in the sunset.



Just Thoughts…

Is it even merely a reflection, my life? For quite a piece of time, I’ve just sat idly and watched the same scenery. But, perhaps instead of waiting for a change, maybe I should try and enjoy, rather – embrace the “norm.” Even still, I’d like to experience something new. Although all that I go through is unique to me, life just inevitably seems dry. Maybe if I meet the person I’ve sought for all of these lifetimes, the black void inside of me may become filled.

I do not know for absolute certain. I ask myself, “how long am I going to wait,” but my lack of understood patience keeps me stranded inside of a vicious cycle. One, which no matter how much I try to change, becomes a great test from the Universe. Do I have to fulfill a specific destiny, where I walk a path to get where I must be – where my responsibilities lie, or do I create my own future with the impressions of chalk on a board? Have I been granted the ability to carve out my own trail instead of wandering aimlessly, waiting for the most subtle of variation?

I cannot keep calm and respond in accordance. My temper spirals out of me in reaction to the vile negativities of where my physical resides. But this collection of energies, this EARTH PLANE of ours, a unit of our multi-verse, my humble home – it strains me so. There are so many conflicted visions and ideals; it seems that destruction by the wealthy and wicked is upon the misguided mind of influence. If I, with my individuality, cannot breathe for myself, then why – WHY was a brain bestowed beneath the fortress of my skull?

I am not a Sheppard to the sheep, but if I was meant to be, would it be revealed to me? I can barely keep pace with the flowing ideas concocted by my hasty fingers. I type to a means where I can express these incomprehensible feelings of mine, but is it for my well-being in due time? Should I even ask questions in rhyme?

Would they confuse my subconscious mind into seeking what I do not even consciously recall expressing? Does my seated soul understand my needless desires? Why would I be given the option to question with responsive skepticisms of dissonance? Perhaps it’s even more just for me to understand, so I ask and then fulfill my tasks – whatever they may manifest themselves as.

My mind, our minds. Me, we. We all tie in together as an intertwined patchwork of anomalies, seamlessly stuck inside of purgatorial flames with feeble hopes of escape. We’re all animals inside of a cage either way. So what’s the point of trying if we’re just killing for fulfillment and then are reminded by our Karmas , which retort our malicious deeds, that there is vision of a fruitful future? I ask, then again, I wait.



The echoing of clamped metal underneath my rusting feet screams at me,

Saying: “Guilty, guilty; you murderer!”

And as I step with hesitant, stalling legs, the footprints of blood follow me into the darkness of my mind.

There is tainting between my rotting flesh and finger-nails –

From clawing debris out of his eyes like an animal.

Wherever I look, wherever I am, I see him, staring back at me with holes in his head….


Some Bloggers Ya’ Should Follow! ^_^

Hey guys, how’s it going? 😀 That was not a rhetorical question, by the way. Please feel free to let me know! I’d like to, once again, tell YOU, the reader, how much I appreciate you. I’ve been running the blog for well over a year now and I’ve been able to come this far solely because of you and the rest of my followers!

My followers have stuck with me for all this time and have kept close tabs on my poetry. Not only have they read it with intent to understand and feel, but they always offer a  heartfelt response – which I kindly take as criticism.

This is why I love and greatly appreciate you all! But, I’m off-topic. Since there is so many of you, it’s very difficult to keep up with each of you individually. Still, there are many who have made their presence know and I’d like to take the time out to mention some of these ambitious bloggers below… Please check them out!


Firstly is Mrs. Diane. She is such a lovely soul who has been with me from the beginning. She, like me, is a writer. Diane, on the other hand, actually HAS some written material, haha! So if you’re interested and share an open mind, please read some of her mesmerizing word-smithery at:



Next is “A Rhythm Runs Through It.” Here you will find some more superb poetry. If you as so little as like mine poetry, then I’m certain you’ll LOVE his pieces. Follow him at:



Then there is “New Lease Music.” Here you’ll find the latest music – whatever it is – because she goes out of her way to make sure the new voices in our generation are heard! A very modest thing, I must say. Please follow her at:


Or her Twitter: https://twitter.com/tzdawkins


Next up in the ring is my favorite comic-cartoonist: Mr. Doug. I don’t want to spoil any surprises he has with his artwork, so you’ll just have to check them out yourself and go on a… “trip!” ^_^

You can find him here:


Or on Twitter: https://twitter.com/CandyTripComic


The next blog is from a man determined to bring about a change in the world. What does he have to offer, you ask? Well, let’s just say he shares his share of some of the positivity that we all need to share! See him at:



For now, the last one I’m going to mention is “Shackled and Crowned.” On this blog, you will find one of my favorite poets. You will know what I mean when her passionate words annul your mind. The artwork included with the written pieces is just another amazing story by itself… Please, do yourself a favor and follow her blog at:



Well, that’s it for this post. I wish I could have included every ambitious person I interact with…  but that would just be too overwhelming on my behalf. I’ll be sure to include a similar post dedicated to more amazing people some time in the future. Thank you so much! Until then, however, I love you and cherish your soul. Many blessings to you and much love! Namaste ❤


1 Comment

Mud Trespasser

Danger in the Depths of Manhattan

Credit Goes to The Crime Writers’ Chronicle

Creased veins, why – WHY do you even sucumb to an abberations of distress?

My dormant claw clutches the locked door’s key, gripping tenaciously,

Waiting oh-so patiently for the alteration of an all but distorted time.


The boiling point has consummated a house-hold honor,

Held so dearly to the seed of an infertile fruit –

Oh, weary-weary.



ALWAYS knew what it was, but still I number a delectable countenance.

And, like my manifested gifts, my unopened presents – I aspire to compress my lips,

While my wretched tongue drags across the morbid flesh of vile, yet angelic indecencies.

I’m talking to you, so get away.


Get away.. but not by a measured distance – ONLY by a displeasurable bond,

One of which was shared, but one, who was a witch, all but cared.

I then let the key dangle from a rusted chain…

Waiting to watch how I waste my time waiting…


Living Dead (My First Song)

Hey guys, I recently recorded my first song. Although we had some engineering issues, I think it came out pretty well. Let me know what you think!

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