Hollywood culture defaced.

They speak in whispers as to not offend,
it is guts that lack no brawn of hand.
Their words like spiders creep into
victims minds as they sleep,
and poison leaks from each thought.
Fat
Ugly
Thin
Weird
Slutty
Smelly
Anorexic
Obese
When the person awakes,
the mirror is sharper then it was yesterday.
Little cogs in their minds turning and turning.
voices in their heads saying,
am I, am I. . .
"No" is the answer,
resounding from somewhere deep within,
like "ohm".
A wise one realises to be oneself is better,
above standards,
beyond labels,
and building an immunization to the word of others.
Add a vaccination of self reassurance.
The world is shallow,
sad, and unclean.
You don't have to be.
You can be different.

worth your time

I asked you sir
if you had the time.
you said it could be mine if I give you a rime.
and I accused you of a blatant crime,
because time cannot be yours sir,
nor mine.
but in exchange for giving what you thought you had,
and since I am in no way mad,
here is your rime.
Sir.

Crayola Dreamscape

Crayons can be step one
to open a whole new world.
one with brick reds and sunset pinks,
a dandelion yellow sun and lime green grass
all beneath a clear and soft mist blue.
We can illistrate our dreams,
you and I .
With plum purples,
with tangerine oranges,
with grape violets.
A world where every color has a name.
A world where the sun is always in one place and the waves stay calm in the sea.
No nuclear blast redorangeyellow-black.
No army greenbrown.
No grave-blue or bloodvain purple.
You and I,
in our crayon utopia,
drawing a better place then god managed to mold.
We will save him a place to, as the moon and stars in our night sky.

Who the hell is Webster ?

A book of seemingly infinite knowledge,
pages bound rigid and strong.
It's opinion is held above any other individuals.
Never wrong or maybe just never challenged.
If something is broken or missing,
if I need something new and different i ask it.
Or maybe if a thing seems to great to be weighed-
by my inferior intellect, I look to it.
What paramount knowledge a dictionary holds.

Encoded Hope

Memories are funny things.
glimpses into the past,
a small echo of what once was.
The tale of the looking glass

Some like ancient photos,
have worn down and corroded over time.
stair to long and you'll forget the present,
and have only the better days in mind.
Others are like slivers of mirror
after one is broken.
You realize you get 7 more years of bad luck,
hope history cannot always repeat itself.
Those slivers like broken dreams stick in- razor sharp,
but the pain that makes you wince is not from the cut,
but from the wounds in your heart, unforgotten.
In the end we find the memories that stick best,
The brilliant ones that outshine the rest.
like our closest star does at day, what its family cannot at night.
Some Memories can light our way, even on the darkest of night.
Those golden memories let us hope that tomorrow can be as bright.

ugly paths

I am the kind of person who stays off of sidewalks and crosswalks unless if it is the quickest way or if the unchosen path seems to muddy, not that I don't like mud but I like to keep my white shoes white. I like to cut my own trail, usually I choose the fastest way from point A to B, which is a good idea because I am a slow walker. For the times I don't care whenI get where I am going I will choose the more interesting of pathways, like an exploration of sorts. I would like a world with less sidewalks because I find them restricting, you only can walk two ways on them, without them we could walk in every direction. Sure the idea at first sounds like chaos but i think in the end we would liberate humanity somewhat. If I had it my way we would do away with all defined paths and return to being like deer cutting our own impermanent pathways through the woods of life. Also thats be honest, arnt sidewalks and crosswalks and arrows pointing you in directions just so damn ugly.?

A lion only needs to roar

It is the Really big questions that seem to divide us, big concepts about life, religion, the existence of god. We divide as societies over these topics and destroy each other in personal defence of our "Neverland" concepts. Humans are the one creatures on the planet whom fight over things that are relatively meaningless to survival. Creatures fight and kill over valuable things like food, territory, mates, the right to live, human beings fight over whose God is the right god. . . who does that help really? Throughout time we people have considered ourselves such higher intelligence then anything else on the planet, and I see our potential for such a claim, and we have proven ourselves many times to be capable of greatness. We have been to mars and the moon, we have our own satellites rotating the earth, skyscrapers and endless highways, in many ways we are leagues beyond competition. Our flaws I wish to argue make people the most savage of beasts and so I propose the logic of the creature who fights strictly to survive becomes the wiser. The lesser minded being is the higher respected in this case. A soldier kills to no good means, a lion merely roars to maintain peace.