Changes

I liked pretending you guys gave a shit about me. 

But it's okay, I give a shit about me. 

Sorry

There are holes in my heart that cannot be filled with my own blood but by that of those who still reside there. Who took their shovels to my bones and worked their ways into my protected home and found a place to sit so warm that they would decide to stay there even after they decided to leave.

Evil is a man made invention, it does not exist in nature.

Nature is beautiful at 

roots, are foundations for life. 

It does not grow or bloom or call or breath with ill intent, 

branches after all are built for, 

nests are made of,

 twigs are small for beaks.

 Fish have fins to help them swim in, seas are homes to many who feed on, fish will migrate into, 

lakes bathe bears and cubs. 

Wind is older than, 

red woods house the squirrels that feed on, 

nuts fit perfectly into, 

their cheeks are big enough for seeds. The mole was not made for, 

the ground was made for the shrew the mouse the fox the badger, 

the mole owns, a nose can smell its way to safety from, 

storms nourish the plains grazing crowd. 

Nothing was by accident if it is by nature we can feel with nothing but our, hearts exist in, 

nature is our, 

home, 

welcome. 

For Grandpa

This isn't about the fact that you died, it's just the time.

You let me choose from the walls of your mind one beautiful part that would be mine. You put your trust in me when I was only nine to pick the piece of you that would hang in my room to love while you were still alive.

Grandpa, how did you know to let me decide, and why?

These are the things that pull my strings and yes I mean my heart. Like the way you reminded me I had one. Like the purple glories that remind us it is morning. Or our dogs who won't forget to tell us when someone's knocking. Like the stories in movies that conclude in deeper meanings.

You reminded me.

With the slight of your brush you painted me a story.
The only problem is you never told me.

I can see the berry and the door and the bright striped orange walls but you didn't show me, what you saw when this piece was your glory.

Your genius came with no manual.

Grandpa, did you mean for me to decide?

Perhaps observing this portion of you is much more of an introspective process. Perhaps you intended for me to make personal progress.

Grandpa, how did you know I would need this now?

How did you know the gregarious ways of your isolation? How did you know that youth is a basket slowly woven only to be filled with the marbles that need recollecting, how did you know you would lose them?

You gave me more freedom than the claim our country clings to. You let me make myself, like you made up the walls that surrounded you. You showed me truth, as if it existed beyond our textbooks. You pulled me to a more glorious horizon, than the gale of a glen in ancient Ireland.

How did you know you were ready to abandon your beard and return to the great glowing state, like our favorite wizard on the stallion off to battle?

How did you know I was ready to handle? And not like the grips of my bicycle but like a mothers bleeding thoughts of a son who's only a piece of this wars many cattle.

Like you knew I would be okay with growing away from home, and that this beautiful piece that hung on the walls of your mind would help me be alone.
All my unanswered questions are a building storm, greater than the ones that hit New Orleans and Rome. And yet it's like you knew there was a calm to this blow, and by the art you created you'd show me the absence of cold and the glory of one.

I want to know what you thought when this piece was not mine but merely a plan for the walls of your mind like a blueprint for skyscrapers to climb, or the seas of inevitable tide, like those incarcerated and prepared on the stand to look them in the eyes while they lie, I want to know if my guesses were right.

But perhaps that's the beauty of unanswered questions. Or the glory of your legacy.

Grandpa, how did you know?

Wackness Now

Never was the stress about approval.

Never was the fear on public thought.

Always I was scared of those who loved me. 

That how they chose to see me I was not. 

Never did I veer away from loveless. 

For always I would choose to love myself.

Never have I worried about lonely.

But without you my heart's left on the shelf.

Growing up is nothing to be scared of.

These old lines show life's own history. 

Death doesn't trap my nightmares like a child.

Pain doesn't make a skeptic out of me. 

The future though is something so unheard of.

Anticipation is usually afraid. 

misunderstanding what lies before us.

These thoughts to rest I know they must be laid. 

Never has a purpose put a hinder

upon this journey I know to be my own. 

For significance is really just a story

we're told so we don't die feeling alone. 

Never will I have to fear this being

Never will I question what I am

but in this world we can't help but comparing

as long as I am nothing close to them. 

This sprawl is really much more scary 

than any foolish object with a stare. 

Not worried will I be for my own safety

just fearful of the drone they breed and wear. 

Rationality is most of what's in question

When I think about the dreaded settled way

To be what shapes the general picture

Is away from where I know I'd like to stay. 

Never will I let the fear control me

or stop what I know must be done.

In time afraid will find itself lonely

I will not be the sheltered one. 

Understanding, by Harper

"Let us burn one

from end to end

and pass it over

to me my friend

burn it long, we'll burn it slow

to light me up before I go

if you don't like my fire

then don't come around

cause I'm gonna burn one down

yes I'm gonna burn one down

my choice is what I choose to do

and if I'm causing no harm

it shouldn't bother you

your choice is who you choose to be

and if your causin' no harm

then you're alright with me

if you don't like my fire

then don't come around

cause I'm gonna burn one down

yes I'm gonna burn one down

herb the gift from the earth

and what's from the earth

is of the greatest worth

so before you knock it try it first

you'll see it's a blessing

and its not a curse

if you don't like my fire

then don't come around

cause I'm gonna burn one down

yes I'm gonna burn one down"

      -Ben Harper

"Proud to be an American"

Convince yourself of an absent autonomy

After developing submission to a censored society

Adhering to norms is simply surviving for truth is ungiven in this world we live in just follow tradition. 

Through our ego is success and success is the dream,

Morality is truant when it's time to achieve.

Careless is essential if compassion hinders ourself, though in real it is not real it's everything to fight for.

With closed eyes and ears our mind pretends to see and hear the things we are fed anyway.

Too look beyond the lines we've drawn is too taboo to ponder. 

And yet we wonder.

But repression kicks at the first sign of thought and so this conditioning is born. We make ourselves but it was predisposed and not by some celestial power with in which our universe is the very thought of, but by misguidance in the name of such used by those all around us.

The easy way out is through what we do with our time when everything is good, what's to consider? 

This Earth is healthy

School taught us what we know

The animals have no senses 

They're meant for our uses

You're meant for my service

My pleasure

You're meant for my anger 

The bad things weren't real

Just examples

We won every time 

This food is natural

This package says 'real'

These meds are helpful

We need this industry

This book is good

This church is true 

This life is ideal

This life is mine 

I am free

I am an American

And we meant it, and we liked it. and so they have us.