Hell Is Like A Dog Kennel

The Diving Song

I seem to be, inhaling the same smoke they do

I seem to be seeing the same grey skies they do

I seem to always be pushing my way through in life as they do

I seem to be floating over the same waters

Waters, waters

And I’m afraid I may never dive again

I'm not saying I want to say goodbye,

I'm not saying I want to die,

I just want to take a deep dive

To take the pain out of my eyes,

To take some time, some time,

From being alive, from being alive,

I just want to take

A deep dive

I find it in myself to stay alive,

take a dive , dive deep ,

but not too deep a dive

I find it in myself to take a dive,

and close my eyes,

Feel the deep calm inside my mind,

I find some time and realize, just realize

I find it in myself to open my eyes

in my dive, to cleanse the dust ,

the smoke,  the pain 

passing by

Open my eyes on my dive,

but don't drown

Because when I look down

I'll never want to come back up

The Mirror Cries

I'm not looking at you, I'm looking at myself

I'm not hurting you, I'm hurting myself

I'm not hating you, I'm hating myself

I'm not tired of you, I'm tired of myself

I'm not dying for you, I'm dying to help myself

I'm seeing through you, so I can see myself

But your so clear, I found that

there is nothing of myself

The Rolling Cigar Casket

His coffin not covered by fog, but

Cigarette stubs and smog of ashes,

What was once hard ground

Has become a boiling, dilapidated bog

full of miasmic slandering,

wrought with gaseous words

Like the smell, not too dissimilar

of forever lingering skunk excrement

Their actions masterfully conceal their

dirt and soiled wicked desires,

They were weeping, now

they are solemnly inhaling cigars

A "shame" they say, " without him the company will be a little less endurable"

There are umbrellas, but they were soon gone

Cigars heeled into the ground and stocked up like a sapling, this sapling though burning head to stem

And over this great man he rests,

choking, surrounded not by love ,

but a reminder

of the life he had once succumbed to

And in his grave he is rolling,

under dried cement,

Against his Cuban Cigars

And no one seemed to notice

it had been struck aflame

Now his whole casket underground

was rolling, and on fire,

And the Earth that day

Smoked a huge rolling cigar casket

The Drowned Ones

I flow in space, but where time still exists

And I still flail and persist

Against this fluid like presence

To breathe in life like on the earth's surface

But something is dragging me down

Why has it made me numb?

It hurts, this pressure is hurting me,

No, no one is calling for me,

It burns, this water is burning me,

I'm struggling to breathe , I cannot

But I'm not alone, no

There are others too

The ones who could not get through

To the surface, ignored by the sun

None, They have become,

None, none, none

The drowned ones

Once you've drowned you can't swim up

You punch and flap,

but that will get you none

You've done and then some, but

Once you reach the ground

Your still sinking

The Jackass

Maybe your ancestors wanted a rebellion,

And maybe mine too,

But their voices echo in the past

And subsequently,

we live in the future, to their past;

their voices do not reach me

I can't hear them the way you do ,

Can you hear them now?

Are they whispering?

Or are they screeching?

To me,anyway,it is silent

And I just don't give a damn,

And their not so restless that

Their rolling in their graves

Giving a damn either,

If your enforcing on their behalf

All power to you

But their tombs are silent

So maybe I got the message

To keep quiet

And not to disturb our dead neighbors

#86

By a double edged sword

We are both stabbed in the back

The pointed edge past our chests

And the only thing separating us

Is the hilt

#104

If sadness could takeover my life

Then I need a new sadness

To take away my life

Aching Sounds

What kept me up wasn't the glare of the moon, Or the calls of the cats, the howling of the dogs, Clonks of the woodpecker,

Laughs of the neighbors,

The echoing steps on the sidewalk,

The paralytic nightmares or the black, Nothingness, of my dreams

It was my back, because even while sleeping

I was carrying the weight of the world,

And the aching sounds that comes with it

My wailing bones

Felt like they were creasing

And it sounded as if it was creaking

Like rusty sink knobs

And no matter how I turn

There will always come anew

A new distinct aching sound

Not of the pressured bedsprings,

Or the whoopee pillow

Or the flapping quill blanket

No they are my grunts, my winces, my whines

Those are the aching sounds that show

I'm in pain and awake, and I'm aching

To hear the sound of snoring

Because then

it would be the sound of sleep

And of that I am aching, aching for the sound

Of sleep

The Unforgettably Unforgiven

I was unforgiving in my crimes,

And I am forever unforgiven,

The judge has granted me a title

'The Unforgiven' ,he says

But this title alone is forgiving

Than just being called 'hey' or 'you',

I have been forgiven by being unforgettable

If my name truly doesn't matter

Then this title certainly does

Now I'm unforgettably unforgiven

But at least I was here, and done something

Doesn't matter what I did,

I'm still unforgettable

In someone's eyes

So unforgive me, I say

Indeed unforgive my crimes,

Because I leave my scar on humanity,

So much so, they'll never forget the feeling, They'll trace it with their hand

And it'll remind themselves

Of the unforgettably unforgiven

President Is Not King

The President is not king,

President is a figurehead,

Is an ambassador ,

President does not rule,

We rule,

His congress overrules our rule,

The president agrees or disagrees

With the overrule, he tells not says

He preaches,not teaches,

If he prostrated, he will

Be remonstrated, maybe reinstated

But he does not obligate,

We are unequal he is divided,

We are algae in fish tanks

The President is a fluttering fish

And his congress are the algae eaters

The Immortal Goodbye

Live as long as you will live,

We cannot be together anymore,

Because one day you will be gone,

And I will live on, and you will live on,

And when your eyelids are no longer strong, You would have forgotten

That I was ever gone,

I will live forever without you,

And you will die forever without me

The Skeleton Key

This key is long and you must dig deep

To reach the key wall

And when turning its rustic handle

You feel this thin key might snap,

This key is stripped bare

No convoluted edges, just a handle,

An axle and a tiny ridge

There is no flesh on this key ,

No brilliance ,no silver gleam

Or slippery gloss of touch

Just hard, cold ,ragged black steel

The color like the gums of my teeth

And it opens no doors

Only the rib cage, guarding

My dead, beat-less

Heart

Looming Death

Death is hanging onto me,

And slowly I die and inside,

I can feel myself die,

And I slouche with death

But it is an odd feeling

Like a parasite,

Like a perched vulture,

And it's shadow alone

Chasing the lagging animal,

Because even in a game of shadows it must lose; there is no other choice,

I feel I'm in danger, and all the while

Like a mother hunched and hugging

over its adolescent child,

Death slouches with me, looming over me,

But even more so, as the time goes by,

My eyelids dim, and ingrained on me

Are crows feet, becoming more

At the corner of my eye every second ,

Death slouches more and more

On top of me ,holding onto me

With paralyzing strength, my breath is shorter

And his grip when I resist

Is bone bending, he has finally shown himself

His cloak stuck to the naked cap of his skull

The days go by and eventually

I can see the top of his eyes

Slowly they come into my own view

Until at last

I can catch a final glimpse

Into the empty moon craters

Of Death's eyes

Advice

I don't appreciate your advice

And I don't apologize for saying it,

You give advice

Not realizing how condescending you are,

The more I hear your advice and that I need to Take this advice now

Is like pissing on ignited rope

Working its way up a firework

And before it explodes

There is that awkward silence

That contemplation, that moment of

"yeah I know already " ,so obviously apparent In my face that it is agitating

How you don't even see it,

Damned advice from an ego,

The advice I never really needed

Nor cared about,

Advice you enforce and encourage

On to the point

Where you mumble under your breath

How I don't take your advice,

Advice be damned, your advice is more Burdening than uplifting ,

I know it isn't enough

To quell your insatiable desire

To advise me out of commission,

So I say this, damn your advice,

Listen to your own damn advice,

Because hopefully,

No one cares to listen to it but you

Non-Something

And whenever

I look away at the nothingness again

I say I see nothing, nothing,

I have nothing else to say

Is there something, something ,

To at least make me say something,something, There is something, that! there! that way!

I have looked at nothing

For an innumerable time

And I have waited for at least something

A hallucination to come, but ol' nothing

Not even death has come,

So cumbersome it's too dark to count

Or to feel my fingers and

I can't feel pain,

So I disregarded teething my thumb;

There is not , there is none ,

Nothing to keep me not so dumb, but Nonetheless in this time of none,

This place of nowhere, the space

Where there is nothing I reach and there is Something, something, it was the feeling

That I would hope at the end of my reach Would be something and I am reaching— Reaching for something

And I've reached the end of something

It was nothing still , mute, unkind nothing

Grave Love

I will wallow with you

Risking wounds wrought with pain on the wrists

We will let blood whenever you wish

In our reign ,would we have whistled like wind vanes

Spun not by weather but by wrath , would we finally let go of our reigns

Awoken we would finally be, we would no longer risk or be rash these old woes would be now long overdue and we would only preach wrongfully

You are wroth that they are wrong, and I was strong but no longer strong

I will wither once you withdraw, because you are the wreath not the coffin that is the end all

And we cannot witter when rested in our wooden walls

Our color after a while will wane , and our painted graves will wash away beneath the waves

Steppin' Stone

I am a walking tombstone

My lousy legs only hold this block of hopelessness so far

And like branches rattling in a hurricane

Like the tongue of the bell swinging back and forth

Or like the pendulum of a father clock

My knees unbearable to even stand lock

And fall, and so does everything else

And here do I lie , too tired to stand my tombstone

Too tired forever

Of Houses and Homes

How at home do you feel,

In a house that is not your home?

A home housed with relationships that are Distant and are gone so soon

You stay for long but at an instant

Are told to be gone by noon

No longer can you return to the house

That was your home

Because in that house, in that home,

Are others that are a family but you feel so alone

You were connected and cannot be anymore

Because at the core living with family

Is too much of a chore

And living too long with someone is even more

You wish not be alone but you do

What is it they truly long for

It's not a house nor a home

It's not to be with someone or to be too alone

They are undecided and unsure of what they wish

They are fickle, non conforming, and relentless

They look for meaning in all they do

Pushing and pulling others, little to no concern

Too focused on themselves to ever discern

That those who truly care for them

Are desperately concerned

Enough to make caring souls churn

When they see her life, broken, lost, lone,

And her smiled burned

#167

What is a fish to do

In a sea of hooked worms

Sleeping Gnats

They're so small, so insignificant

You won't even hear them snoring

You won't even see them sleeping

You'll never realize the next day they're dead

The Gordian Knot

We once had control of ourselves

Like strings of a puppet

But the strings are tangled and,

The wires once wax to the touch

Are like needle pricking rust, misshapen,

And convoluted, we no longer hold the Crossbar wood in our hands, the strings

So complex and mangled, makes unraveling it Like a hand thrust in a snake pit

And the potential, of adding a knot more

Is the same as a poison,

A poison knot,meant to stun you forever,

A Gordian knot entwined

In the illusion of venom

And the embrace of snakes

The Smoke

We are all addicted

And that reality is too much for me to handle, Not too hard to handle unlike smoking,

I hate this act

More than anything in the world,

More than hypocrites, more than liars

More than myself; it's always the same routine 'I would never smoke, not a cigarette, or weed or hookah,'

And then down the line they get curious

Or they're coerced, persuaded even by their Circle of the rebellious and then this routine Enters another stage of

'I can quit whenever I want, I'll do it today,

Tomorrow,this month,this week ,

And a lot of other bullshit; it's mind numbing How many times I hear it,

And that phrase pisses me off

More than this constant

Reverberating smoke I unintentionally inhale; This act, this smoke , is a poison

And just because it doesn't have a drastic effect On their bodies, they just think it's ok,

To be high, to be not themselves,

But someone else, to see through

Something else's eyes

To see a world and feel it

Without a ground beneath but a gaseous one

And light and untouchable, like smoke itself; These headaches are caused by this inhalation This rape of my nostrils, of my very being, They're clouded

And they may never touch ground again

They could finish it and pound it

Under their sneakers or heels

But the miasma remains hovering and dancing From its tungsten light ash; I look at it

And even then I regain the migraines

And it keeps knocking the sides of my forehead As if I can hear every pound of shoes stepping And the smoke filling my head from the ends Of the earth, now my own head is clouded

And unlike them I hold the Earth by the roots So I can never leave the ground ;

My friends are alien,

They know the damage done by smoking

They say it's to help sleep, to help the pain,

To help be happy,

And my philosophy is if you need something to Give you a boost to be happy

It's already too late

And each time they close their eyes

The wrinkles under their eyes

Made them look sadder and sadder,

The smoke gave them an odor more disgusting Than the ever,

How happy they were

Before they discovered it

And now they have become so desperate

On something that lasts only minutes

Upon hours of single days , I miss those times When theirs eyes were not reddened

And hopeless reflections of my own eyes , When their laughs were bouts of laughter

Not  a hysterical one, at first graceful and neat And clear minded are slowly deteriorated disoriented bouts of randomness and incoherent thoughts,

Once a blazing scarlet fire that

Waved even shadows were now slithering Unfiltered smoke dispersed in the wide calm

Of the atmosphere dressed in it, until

The acid rain sweeps the ground

I so desperately wanted to stand on

Our Pains Unequal

I don't want empathy,I want pity,

And sympathy,

I cannot share your pain,

Because my pain aches in different places

And that pain is painful in different ways

Our pains are not created equal

And they may be similar

But this pain has my name on it, etched

Into my bones, you cannot feel it ,

You cannot see it, as I do yours,

But if you can be sad with me

Then I won't be so sad anymore

Between The Closed Curtain

I feel I am on a stage of a theatre,

I am in trapped in between the closed curtain It's like my head is cloaked by it

And I am struggling to look up

From the heavy curtain

And see the faces that in my mind

Pass judgement, while on the other side

Of the curtain I know is nothingness, darkness, A haven , that is only a haven to those

Without anything to live for,

It is in that moment in between the curtain That I must decide do I look past it

Hanging over my head and face the judgement of the mind and the grins and unpredictability of the people?

Or do I crawl head first into the dark tunnel,

The echoing footsteps,

A step forward or back will then and always be

A painful sound of shame and regret

#77

I guess my hate for everything is unnatural

And my love for nothing is irrational

Upside Down Crowns

Soon we'll slow dance underground ,

Mirrored rooms our crowns upside down,

Your words won't be words

Since they'll be jumbled sound

Welcome will mean forever

And forever for all in time

Forever for all around