Preference

Maybe, just maybe,

We choose reality.

Maybe, just maybe,

We choose our own adventure.

Or maybe, probably,

Reality chooses us…

Hopefully, or not.

Doubting Intentions

One day, I’d like to say of myself,

That he was a good man.

But for now, all I can say,

Is the devil is playing God’s game,

And he’s pretty good at it,

Being good, that is.

King of bullshit, is he.

Now, maybe that’s unfair.

It could be, we choose who we are to be,

And that the good man cannot choose,

Whether or not he is the devil.

I would like to think that God judges,

Based on who we want to be,

Not who we are.

Life

It’s about escaping hell.

When is it not about hell?

You Never Know

Where are all the non-smokers?

Not here.

Is it possible that they hate smoke?

I mean, with a passion.

Much more that I appreciate it?

Probably.

No wonder second-hand smoke kills,

It makes haters of people.

And hatred kills.

I’ll See It One Day

Do I think I’m better than you?

No, but I like to challenge myself,

To be better, generally.

Is that wrong?

Yes, because in the end,

I’m not better.

Just an expert liar and a sinner.

Now, are you better than me?

Sure, maybe at certain skills.

But at being good?

I don’t know.

I can admit it, can you?

So we’re even then?

Oh, you’re different.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I wish I could have expected that.

Boredom

There’ nothing to say,

Nothing to do.

Where should I go?

Somewhere new?

In the world,

There is no purpose,

Just time passing.

It’s Good If You See It

Not that I could choose,

Not that I could say,

But this life,

This balance,

Is where it should be.

I could do this forever.

For the good times were good,

Etched in time, in stone,

As it was,

Good forever.

I’m Happy With This

The rules, the setting,

Science reveals.

The purpose,

That’s what the soul decides.

So let it be content,

Let it be sated.

Fulfill your desire,

The happiness you already have.

It Makes Sense To Help

There something I can do for you?

Want some tea? A biscuit?

Is that true?

For if I can help, I will,

Logically, it will be done,

As it was meant to,

For man or woman.

With hands and resources,

Provided to us,

I will, if I can,

Do what you require.

I’d Rather Not

Some shit is not as it should be,

But what can you do?

Not much.

Unless, you were willing,

To stray away,

Playing hero.

Growing Up

Keep playing,

Keep saying,

It wasn’t your fault.

Lay all blame,

On him up high,

Or, you know,

Take responsibility.

You’re an individual,

Full and grown,

Balls have dropped,

So reap what you’ve sewn.

What I Could Have Seen

Determined to seek change,

Within myself,

As I hold myself back.

Majestically ready,

To punish myself.

Nervous to speak.

Shame flees,

Awareness would devastate.

Expression

Back to this, I see.

I can’t remember how.

You write as you feel,

Undecided by thoughts,

Of ‘poetry.’

Its goal,

A raw depiction,

Of what’s within.

Study it one day,

Maybe you’ll see.

What decides,

You and me.

Or let it fade,

As all things do,

For there’s always something,

That seems new.

Some Things Feel More Important Than Others

There’s always something,

That seeks expression,

But to force it,

From where you stand,

Unswayed,

Without reason,

Is quite demeaning,

To the feeling.

Don’t think!

It’s for reading,

So lead foolishly.

At its end we’ll see.

Fleeting Inspiration

In the end,

It seems,

I don’t write,

Without lack of purpose.

I never remember,

What led the way,

Or who said it this way.

All I come out with,

Is how it sounded,

But I have no way of knowing,

How we found it.

There’s only the fact,

That it’s on paper,

Guided by slight reason,

And the voice I favor.

It’s almost instinctive.

Purpose Doesn’t Need A Reason

The point is,

There is no purpose,

For me at least.

But there is a hope,

To which there is no reason,

That will shed its light,

To those who apply it,

As a synchronized voice,

To a knowledge unrealized.

After that,

You live your life.

Its reason is in itself.

The Way Of Things

One looks within,

The other, out.

Outside is an untouchable reality,

Comprised of true desire,

Which I am free to enjoy,

And be a part of.

Within are things from before,

Things yet to come.

It is what isn’t,

What is possible,

In the life of God.

What isn’t affects what is,

And one day,

What isn’t will be.

And I will still be free to enjoy,

Be easy,

For I am,

And always will be,

My only true judge.

Whatever comes,

I have already accepted,

For myself.

Chaotic Nature

Refrain did he,

For he knew all too much,

But fall in love did he,

Anything for her touch.

And in that way he lived,

For her he surrendered.

And in that way he sinned,

His vow broken forever.

Afflicted was she,

“Do something,” she pleads.

Corrupted was she,

Endless were her needs.

In a way she was pleasant,

For him she was gentle.

In a way she was innocent,

The manner was mental.

“I want it all,” she says,

Like all was nothing

“You deserve it,” he says,

As the world was ending.

He had achieved all wisdom,

Universal knowledge.

But change was demanded,

He would be a savage.

He saw it all coming,

It was so meaningless.

So he welcomed his lover,

Embracing foolishness.

He thought he would suffer,

So he prepared.

“I’ll enjoy it while I can,”

Is what he declared.

And enjoy life he did,

Learning to love.

The stuff of fantasy,

His life was of.

At the end he was alone.

All he loved and acquired.

Everything destroyed,

All thrown in the fire.

And so he smirked,

And God he faced.

“Are you happy?” he asks,

And forever he waits.

Such is the way of,

Life with forethinking.

Love foolishness first,

It’s better for living.

The ignorant fool,

Knows true existence.

And the wise man,

Learns only silence.

To seek out knowledge,

Is to seek out more.

To love more than nothing,

Makes God quite sore.

The Grace of God

Got something to say?

I’d like to hear.

Simply to create,

Something near,

Significant, epic,

And amusing.

Friendship and love,

A knowledge of living.

A reflection, a record,

Of the mind.

A tremor, a feeling,

A diamond I find.

Far away I see a man,

And I stand in awe.

In the distance,

A magnificence I saw.

He smiles and says,

“Maybe I’m you.”

“One day,” I say,

“I will choose.”

He laughs at me.

“You fear greatness.

Just come and see,

Past the meaningless,

And learn to live.”

He turns away,

I smile and say,

“Maybe one day.”

He disappears,

And this I hear,

“Turn away from fear,

And maybe this day.”

The Why

The rich in spirit,

See the value in life,

It’s significance.

The poor,

They wallow,

Over nothingness.

Meaning they find,

In sorrow,

In suffering.

But I’m running,

And so are you.

I’ll cry too,

As long as I,

Don’t have to move.

I’ll gain it all,

And laugh,

Just look away.

I fear so much,

I’m so afraid.

But such is living,

Such is sinning.

But thank you,

At least I’m seeing.