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Poem
Since the begining of days when my heart became an advocate of concrete paths, I have 
come to understand the joys that are unprecipitated fears and the fears that are purpose. 
For so long I have adapted to the muddy waters that breed beautiful roses with thorns of 
such pure poison. Taking into my lungs the fresh air, this same air that is only fresh with the 
will of foul principle, yet some how law. Speaking the language that has no sound and 
somehow it is always too loud for its own good. Induction in the chase for things that keep 
my temperature down in the summer while making the atmosphere a little warmer. Like 
something chilly for my wrist ,neck, ears and hands. In the most artic of winters things that 
keep me warm like having a personal zoo, mink, chinchilla, fox, rabbit, beaver, and ostich 
and yet winters are still so cold. Realizing that somehow winters burn the soul, as summers 
tend to freeze the heart. Love is the sound of nature and its remeberance of present. Eagles 
scream through the air, colts break the pavement with 38 and 45 calibers of pressure. The 
floating of land crafts with special made wheels, stars, spokes, claws, blades, all in chrome 
reflecting the spite of happiness in this life. Delicate feminims that perform the sweetest of 
actions with the audacity to control the wheather of man. Sunny days, cloudy months, and 
years of storm. Pleasure is found everywhere and yet it is never found, so pain is the 
blessing of that same pleasure seeked. With each passing day I appear cleaner, except for 
my work related smudges(from the parkway to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the 
community). All the things I want I have and still I have nothing. Today has been here a 
thousand times and only once,tomorrow will pass as yesterday returns. This is where the 
truest kisses come from angels, yet the only blessings are from the breath of the demon. 
This is home, the city of hustle in the divided states of atrocity. So much passionate turmoil, 
so much un-affordable affection that is afforded by price and un-conditional purpose. As the 
tears of an infant blend with the crying of the clouds this waters brings hope of a changed 
existence. One that is the best life, not heaven or hell, not paradise, but life as it could be, 
life in a drop...a single drop... Of Rain Water!            Live, Suffer, Celebrate!
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