Sins of your fatherYou are not your father.You are not a killer because your father was a killer.You are not a king because your father was a great one.You should not be punished for your father's sins.You should not be respected too much for his deeds either.However your father brought you to this world,He gave you life and maybe a part of him is inside you.You have to prove this.If you want to honor his great deeds and clear his sins,If you want to be called with his name,and continue living in the house your father built,thenYou should pay your father's bills,Apologize for his mistakesandForgive to others the sins of your father.If not,Change your name,Leave all the goods your father earned,Leave the house he builtand Go.Go and start a new life.Again you have to prove that you are worthy of a new life.Go and Be a better man than your father.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
ShelterEscaped to the shelterof my head to forgetmy social straight jacket.
Is It Love?If I hugged you,would you never let go?If I kissed you,would you cherish that moment?If I reached for your hand,would you take mine gently?If I needed a shoulder,would you let me cry on yours?If I needed to talk,would you really listen?If I needed to scream,would you do it with me?If I needed to go,would you come with me?If I fell for you,would you catch me?or just let me hit the pavement?
JesusI know you onlyexistfor people likeme,I know I've hungthe phone upa couple times,but it's better thanmy head --right?
94. softyou can cut thethorns off a rosebushbut you can’tstop them fromgrowing(i want to learnhow to hold youin a way that doesn'thurt)
abouti.i want to tell youwhy i always writeabout my mother andnot my father.ii.i love poetry buti hate words;it’s like lovingair but hatingbreathing –(loving breathingbut hating throats)words are whatruin poetry. theymean nothing, andpoetry means everything.words talk, butthey don’t sayanything.(words reduce poetryto nothing.)iii.time slips throughmy fingers likebreaths through a sievebecause i don’tgrasp onto it.i have no will –the thought makesme suffocate fromexhaustion,sinks into the blackcircles under myeyes while i liein bed.time passes.(time is cremated.)iv.i always have problemswith the middleof the night –it’s because i lovesleepinglove dreamsdreams are what makeme different fromother people.my dreams for thefuture don’t exist, butmy dreams beneathmy consciousness arevivid and only comprehensiblewithout logic.v.plants alwaysdie in my house. it'ssomething that wedo together, my
7. heaveni find myself blindedby the smallestof things –plastic rice bowls &a negligible soft-drink addiction –smudged glasses lenses& too many mandarinsthere are things thatact in the place ofthe ideal,quick fixes that worklonger than they wereever supposed to.my ceiling light isbroken – i use twodimmer desk lamps instead.the roof over my roomleaks during storms –i lay old showercurtains on the carpet.and when 1am is theonly time i do not feelsilenced to a voidof words,i pick up a pen, exhausted,and tell myself ( this is how it is meant to be. )
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flameAnd eagles, turning, turn to fireAsh cold, alone I lieAnd think of you.