For Crying (out loud)

Sentenced to indifference. 20-life.

post my bond friend. post my bail.

get me out of the pulse that resonates, this public hell.

too tragic to be played simple. events unfold as a silk napkin in the bistro where all the men with golden pocket watches choose to dine. and me sitting there toppling over wine glasses insisting on whiskey and refusing to use the designer silverware.
I don't belong here.

She spoke these words to me when we first met. How tragic my lines are seemingly mused by boyish afflictions. Alas when it comes to your ear in harmounious symmetry you cannot merely avert.

Create! Create!

i constantly scream the theme to myself, yet to no avail.

I simply cant put prose to paper without persecution.

As i leave the table I begin walking towards the door neglecting the leather folder that had been placed on my wallets side containing numbers that i don't care to calculate. Im not a mathematician, such fields require intelligence. I push by the man that awaits my table to be roused back to normalcy as before I came in with my messy habits. I see him watch as several gentlemen express their desire to get the job done, yet that table means nothing to them. It's merely a tip in pocket and progression to the next; always aspiring for something more. He stares knowingly and I cant help wanting to feed him the wine glass I have stowed in my pocket. better man...better man. be.. no he! he is the better man, let's leave on that note. Pocketing a few mints and glaring at the waitresses, thinking things a man wouldn't admit even to his friends, I walk out the front door and simply stark to the shadows to avoid the men I hear talking in such high voices for that type of social environment. They spill out the door. I spill a little wine on myself. But by this time i've found my favorite restaurant round the bend and out of sight.

Quite unfortunate i've been banned from it already. Two and a half years and yet they still wont let me fill my glass which I so willingly bring. So i'll slink by and stare at the man in my favorite booth filling up on bread and water while avoiding ordering any real meal. Yet I cannot claim the seat anylonger, it's got holes in the upholstry and names carved into the table. How can I sit there? God knows I would. But I just walk away.

We'll i've got some lads I know and who don't care for the fancy things or anything at all. Yeah, they'll offer me whiskey. There are no tables, just the road and awaiting immense hunger to set in.
This is a sad story.

This is where friends call you all concerned

This is where people disappear.

This is where it begins.

It's so very dangerous to be creative.

Let's shock them all. Turn out to be that better man.

This just leads to when.

I pirouette around things I cannot control. Foresake my words until they come true. Here is all i'll need tonight. A chair to sleep in, one Foxtrail, one rabbit hole and multiple ashtrays.

you will? you will. you will?

I feel alive. and im the only one here to enjoy it.

intricacy is to much for me. we have plans and we dont, we lie we lie we lie we lie.

who claims me?

the moonlight is seeping in at 10 am. and the air is brisk.
feel alive. feel anything. each blade of grass frosts over if you stare long enough, so lets live like winters here. we're there. winding around the roads as the stars see us shiver. let's roll the glass away and put fire to the wind. for me my friend.
for you.

we are overdue.
help me forget to remember, remember to forget.

One song. that's all it takes and im playing it so very very loud! can you hear it! can you hear it! Here it is!

I tighten my hood and begin to walk.
I await your footsteps.

If you ever loved me.

If only this page were in a darker hue, maybe my eyes wouldnt strain so unbearing upon the pixels as they reflect off the streams on my cheeks.

Again and again, one by one. such a good little ant in my own accursed trail. I follow my own scent and get confused. I've broken my foot for two years and now it's back in use.

now.
what a pointless time,

now sits me in the hole i broke myself in intitially, merely one step outside. The dirt trodden under foot now sets me in front of my destined path and i can see the rays surmount and surround the freedom ive looked for so very long. the brilliance of the doorway blinds me in casts of gold as they reveal who i've always been. yet. i am here, i move so slowly.

i await. i desire.
i is so pointless.
if only you were so simple.

the constant battle of my heart and head, break me into something else instead. and i become as nothing, a smaller child. infantile in this world so wild.. so will you leave me here, is my plea to late?

will i be consumed or simply postpone the date.

i say not this time and nevermore for all, i've yet to use this leg so i, start to crawl.
please, you know me and you see me through. everything i've destroyed come awake it in to anew.

I solemnly swear to tell you everything, just free me.
help me stand. allow me to move.
oh Keeper of the Time. set your watch ahead. theres a much greater use for me instead.


I love you all and I always have. Humility comes with the destruction of pride and self worth. I know now what I have said and I prithee forgiveness.

Have mercy on me.
This is me at my most sincere, no dancing, beams or withholding fear.
If I make it through, you'll know me as you always have.
Till' then.
- Jer

Somewhere in the middle.

It starts with a young lad and a four-track recording device.
Sitting in his basement screaming out at a life he's only yet embarked on.
It progresses to a young man standing atop a stage overlooking fifteen people who are still seated. Only three of which came for him. Yet these are not me. These are what is necessary and we're too afraid of.

Incessently sitting in routine, kicking around thoughts of opportunity has left me trailing my dream lengthwise. It is overly demeaning to my grasp on reality to find obligation in order to live. It cannot always have to be this way. To forge opportunity out of the soil and spark still leave utter reflections of what heaven may deem itself to be. Yet how can one surmount the affliction of seeming inopportunity to come into that which was never planned and encase it with your own being.

Reading a simple prose from a child giving up on a dream while still yet infantile in her youth broke me to tears in my own terror and fear for this idea i've encircled for years.

It still lives.
It breathes.

Come here it cries, come into this aspect of life you merely tap into once in a hazy moon. You merely taste what you need when your years dwindle, spin and spiral out of control. Take hold! take heed. Utter these words back to yourself as you sit in your imminance. Break free. Come to me.

Help me.

Inspiration sets forth and then departs across the country. Thje flame dwindles, fear takes hold of all those around me and my needs slaughter the rest.

Lets just stop. Please God can't we just stop. This horrid expectancy of limitations. It frustrates me to tears.

Take my hand. Don't guide, don't follow, walk side by side with me into the dark.
Someone. Anyone with a dream still intact or the residue enough to venture for it. Let's go.
away away away away.

we'll return when we've seen it or Zion.
Tell me, is there yet anyone willing?

Feel that?

emotion is making a comeback and every line i spew is covering the lines i had previously drawn.
oh what an inspiration! what an adoring ode to my mind's melody. As neurons fire connecting lost memories, the scent returns, the touch. the loss.
how beautiful.

to know that you will never know again.

I have missed missing and longed for longing. but yet once more it seeks me out in my most lathargic of antithesis.

There is another streetlight out there I pray to be under. For the former has yet laid mark on my lips and cast itself asunder in the ash that used to burn such a brilliant fire in my eyes.
A brigade of memories swell in every tear i shouldn't weld. How is it to feel. to rejuvinate a source of lost concepts and through humanities eyes not a single one should hit the ground.
Alas. does this make me weak? does this have cause for me to reconsider?
The mistake that can be made is the past after the past. The alotted time slots I so willingly fill with waste of anything less than a dream. How forgetful.
Fear and Comfort control many things.
Break me from my lacking comfort.
Annull me from my unknown fears.

I miss you.

Whenever we first meet, how you will know how I've missed you.
Exist as I do for you.

ever ever ever

Simply put.
what happens when anything that alters a dream state connects you to your inner self.

an explosion.
a rue of colors and an onslought of emotions throwing years of aspiration and instilled logic in a whirlwind enrapturing your mind.I cling to hope.

God let this storm pass.

a shift comes in the mind that deturrs one from knowing everything, your plans and future are a blank page now.

what do you write?can you write?

or will it be written for you.it is difficult to elapse time in a dream you are so very fond of when another emotion you have known for a good while longer comes back around.when he sets about you and lingers so pleasingly off my lips and around my cried eyes.why hello again.

ive missed you.
delve with me.
create.

here we are again sitting in harmoneous bliss. an old friend.how i have missed you. how the anesthetic that was my plan has pulled its novicaine grip from my body.
im here.
pleased to meet you.

so in this, i do not neglect hope.the support and infastructure that keeps me afloat.

this hope lies in that the tide must receed before it again surmounts the shore.i drift away, only in hopes that my dream may be expounded as when it first come about.

for it is only in true feeling. true absolute reality of motion and e added to the start.that we ever, ever, ever know what is real.

My Dream.

You know I'm dreaming. of a bright open field. with grass so high you can hide in it. and silky as sheets. and us running, but never getting tired and never getting old and never getting anywhere. until everything about you that s so incredibly beautiful, enough that makes me cry right at this moment over this keyboard, with the sun shining behind you in such a haze that blinds me, but leaves enough just to let me see you shimmering there as an angel holding her white cotton dress with pearled white tassels, and you spin so beautifully, just enough to throw a fragrance to me and let me taste what an angel is, and I'm invisible to myself. because all that I see is you, and everything is in such a dusky haze that's so golden and beautiful that all I see is a bright image of you and the few blades of grass that lie between us as we wade through it knee high, and you come up to me, and I see that angelic face, and never has a moment in all the emotions bestowed upon men of joy or sorrow prevailed to out due the absolute bliss that swells in my heart. and I feel you breath. and the sun never sets.
-Jer

The Truth.

"How much more beautiful is it to dream of a love or a love to be than to just settle for any imperfection youll see, to render your mind and settle for this, it will never be seen what that love could miss." - Jer

how about pulling every crevice of your body into this realm that you may learn to love and live the dream through loving someone in the way that it would be dreamt of. and if never returned, then no loss or gain, for the dream still remains the same. and someone will be blessed by the way you came.

if you never sleep, see the world is imperfect and will never be, everyone has potential to let you down, it is seen, but no one will ever change this, so why not put yourself in this dream to keep from being another soul to succumb to the pain that can be caused when so much hope can be dreamed of. why not asertain for hope, rather than be stricken down and live insubstantially with the reality anyone can attain.

Im simply spilling ideas on a blank canvis.

I was never decieved, in all i went through, i knew everything before anyone told me, im not dumb, i just have so much hope. that i will hold it for almost anything, thats the way it affects love, because it consumes the way love comes and the reality it imposes, even though i am far from loved in return, I still can love that one through the dream of what I would desire to be felt for me, and if it never is, it never is, but at least i will have the hope of what I know it could be by the way that i can feel and display in this play we all act in a love and care that I would dream of
I replace one copy/paste with another. one can either dwell in the past that contains fear through pain or eleviate into the dream of poems celestial.

dont worry dear, i talk in allusions and dreams and metaphors and thing in a fairy tale land i know exists for hope and love and things from above that will soon carry me away

who is to say it cant be attained? who can put a definite on a world in which every single solitary shred of matter is completely subject to change. nothing is definie, everything is finite, and there is no ignorance in what i speak of, this can be attained, and should never be lowered, why aim for the high tower when the stars are farther, why aim for them when you know what not is beyond that, why settle, a dream is a dream in a sense that a dream can be thought of by the human mind and is this subject to come to pass or not but the possibility of its passing is always intact. its all how you wish to live, i live not in ignorance, but in the bliss of what i know i can be and who i am and the goals i have set beyond the stars, come to pass or not, i get to taste them, whereas someone who never dreams, will never know what it is to experience the beauty beyond what we are told. never settle. never let go of hope. eventually you will meet another dreamer.

i speak in terms of reals. of what i know can pass, and how i know it will be if it doesnt. no shock, no surprise, just what can be, pushing me to be better.

love, honesty, hope absolve the pain of reality. something has to be harnessed for this or else we would all in turn be dead already

it is real, it is possible, it is who i am. who i will be and everything i aim for everything i currently desire and can still be offset by something again greater or unexpected

yet at the same time, if it is the dream still influences the course of action of who i am because who i am will be and always has been fullfilled within it and thus the reality is the same and always will be

the dream keeps contentment bound. i have always been hurt but i dream of something without.

something beautiful and it is possible because i have tasted. i have bestowed it, but never had it thus returned. so through experience it is attainable. i just have not reached it yet and if i never do it is fine. given but it doesnt take away from its possibility

my dream is one of my own and i know this for it was written and all are individual with different perception, no dream will ever be the same as mine or line up perfectly thats why dreams are in a blissfull haze because it is not fully seen, they will be, in my dream, but in their way, i will feel, but not know, see but not live for, the dream is in a dusky haze that it encompasses itself and can be anything and will come to pass in that it is not defined as the world is not defined, so when it comes, it will then become clear.