No One Will Publish Poetry; (Five Sections) I. Welcome 1. The Entertainment 2. A Pleasure Seeking Society of Inbred Inebriates 3. The Worst Poem Ever 4. The Bay 5. Pandora 6. Choosing The American Poet Laureate II. Love 1. No One Will Publish Poetry 2. Entry 23: From The Journal of Amy Galiant... 3. The Muse and The Artist 4. The Death of a Queen 5. Jasmine 6. Strangers 7. A Doves' Soul 8. A Foreword On Affection 9. Teaching Boys To Think III. Michael 1. The Real World 2. A Brief Family History 3. Family Insanity 4. My Sixteenth Birthday 5. Empathy 6. Millions of People Trapped In Poems 7. Edmund The Fuck 8. Growing Up In The Burbs 9. Toronto 10.Times and Friends 11.Dazed and Confused In A Black Bottomless Pit 12.The IV. Brandon 1. Forever Loved Is Brandon The Great Immortal 2. Brandons' Watch 3. Waiting In The High School Parking Lot 4. A True Story (about Brandon and Michael) 5. Later On... 6. Things That Can't Be Said 7. Ten Minutes Ago V. God 1. Reality 2. A Thought Is 3. This Is What We Eat Here 4. The Truth Is... 5. Sympathy 6. Lucifer 7. The Lucifarian Concept 8. Gods' Prayer 9. The Prophecies of Apocalyptic Faith 10. A Few Helpful Thoughts By Michael J. Eza Thank you for the title and for your creativity and inspiration in the making of this piece. Your beautiful Always --- to Melinda Welcome The Entertainment Welcome to the Entertainment Yes, a place I call my home. In this place we live on pavement and were always on the phone. In this place we all need money, but money we can’t own. Your goal in life is to find a honey and live with her all alone. It’s a world of life and a world of death, it’s a world where times are hard. It’s a world of hate and a world of meth, you gotta play your highest card. In this place the entertainment we do things everyday. In this place the entertainment we waste our lives away. “A Pleasure Seeking Society of Inbred Inebriates” Windows to our souls, Filled with all our hopes and dreams. Window to our soul, To our blood lusting power fiend. A friend who we once cherished, Now has gone away. There is no place left to run, And everything’s gone astray. Rushing through the vomitous, Into the dark alley way. I watch the open roads, A dark desolate highway light. Humans fallen to the ground, You all close your windows in fear of night. Finding the pain of a new day and opening your heart. The grace of a simple flower now tears your mind apart. There is nothing in the dark, Yet there is no place you’d rather be. It is your imagination. It is the only place we’re free. Don’t look up or down it is right in front, can’t you see? The window to our soul, watch it glimmer. LISTEN TO ME! Don’t look away don’t turn around just sit beside me now. Just sit beside me listening just uh waiting for that sound The Worst Poem Ever It’s not sweet It’s not good And definitely not well It doesn’t rhyme It can’t be hot Is a good poem ever cold? Well this ones not It makes no sense This Poem It goes nowhere There is no point in reading it Out loud it sounds even worse I can’t even begin to tell you how bad a poem could be But, you know, the worst poem ever wasn’t written by me. The Bay: The calm of the tide on a warm summer’s day One small wooden boat adrift on its own A few puffs of fluff hang in the air Vanilla gulls climb in the breeze One man is left sound on the land The king of the island is crowned by his palms The calm of the tide on a warm summer’s day Pandora Is it inside out or outside in, is it nothing or just too small to see…. Maybe it’s an astral drain, getting rid of the unused crap. Maybe it’s a galactic generator Slowly pulling electrons into protons And pulverizing neutrons Squeezing tighter and tighter Making new elements we could never imagine And these elements don’t even exist because the don’t even move Eventually a photon will end up in the middle of it all And blow the whole thing up. Till then though its just A cold dead black And backwards star. But is it even there or is it just some weird illusion; Maybe it is controlled Or maybe it’s creating Inside there is a small organized galaxy just like ours, but smaller protected Maybe… or maybe it is just a dream that sucks us in and never lets go. and the dreamer can hold us Deep down Trapped In a cold and timeless Black Hole. Choosing The American Poet Laureate. A poet,… must be… inspired creative, genius. A True mastermind at work! A poet can SMASH ideals build thoughts, and strengthen each word with the last. Dignified and full of wonder, The poet speaks in metaphors and carefully phrased rhythms. And their poetry must be… .. . awesome, perfectly timed and beautiful, to hear and read. The good poets are also poor, destitute, drunk, or horribly smelly foul creatures. Often they are largely unpublished, impossible to find, or very very old. Unfortunately this means we’ll have to pick the same guy as last year. Love No One Will Publish Poetry Moving through like metaphors assessing daylight dews. Softly seeking similes while viewing morning hues. Writing rhymes in rhythms I’m trying to cast away the blues. I keep finding questions seeking answers that keep running through my head. Timously taking time they won’t let me go back to bed. Lightly loving lies and everything that’s said. I wonder when finally foresight fails is that when I’ll be dead. But whatever, who cares, so what, It just doesn’t matter anyways. Asking questions seeking answers its been days and days and days. This dialectic matrix has got me lost inside a haze. Go looking for your answer all of mine sound so deranged. I’m lost in a place so far off and everything here is now estranged. Entry 23: From The Journal of Amy Galiant 1/23/02 The Madison High School Library Dear whoever, Just another day A day of fear and sadness also of love and desires and finding hope and injustice and awkward stares. Its just a Monday, another day Just another day of schooling and homework a day of parents and boys of joy and heartache. And of course it’s just another day of Secrets, kept from my friends about each other my parents about my choices my boyfriend about my crushes and myself about the world. It’s just another day… just another normal day.. ….. Why does it seem like it’s so much more? The Muse And The Artist… for they are the same. The Muse and the Artist, these are the only poetic creators. The muse is inspiration as the artist is beauty. And their creations gently flow from sunshine on the skyline or music in the forest. Then the muse speaks and the artist listens Suddenly; a book opens and words fall onto it, a canvass appears and shade moves in like shadows, while a drifting rainbow of colors stain the cloth... The muse calls it love, The artist calls it life. Together they free fire from thought and keep it burning in life, so they both can see it. Because they are each other; because they are they same. The Death of a Queen Throughout the existence of nothing and into the existence of man there has been only one creature which is infallible and omnipotent. For when this creature first existed there was nothing and from this creature came everything. Let’s start at the beginning a time where there was no sin nor was there good only equal tranquility with the rest of the Darkness. Here this creature is lying in peaceful slumber waiting only to wake and raise a dawn to all time. For eons she lies in waiting, seeing nothing, hearing nothing and sensing absolutely nothing at all. Until at one point she stirs from her slumber. Still it is only her. She has no form only mind and she can see nothing, but she and her form is anything she can see. (think) Still she is only seeing what lies within her own head. For she has not eyes, nor ears, nor nose, or any sense. All is,... is what she thinks. So she thinks, since she is all that is, she thinks of herself. There is nothing else; only what she knows. So she thinks and ponders. She thinks not in words as this is written, but in pure, untouched, unrefined, thought. With her first thought she thinks nothing and imagines black and so becomes her home the universe. Filled with darkness in space or perhaps space in darkness. This universe begins to build around her expanding into unlimited horizons stretching out in every direction. Knowing not of how or why, but only that this void seems to bring an understanding that she is all there is. She sees herself first as the smallest dot in her own creation, in an ever-expanding universe. She envisions herself as a stepping stone of her own devices. But sees herself now as a dot, she knows not what she does, for she still has no sense of anything, save for in the coldest of regions, the region of mind. In her mind she pleads to the gods (her own higher power) to send her home, back where she came from, But there are none. Still she continues to wish for the one thing she may not have and the one thing she may never have, her home and her higher power, but alas she is trapped in her own black hell. Like a comatose patient she is encased in the furthest regions of her own still dark mind. With that she displays her first emotion, an emotion which all must posses to survive. HOPE And after eons of agony and waiting. Waiting; she is still in despair. For her there is still no response. No answer to her pleas only black and she waits for what seems like an eternity, but in actuality is no time. For still there is no time. But waiting is not what bothers her it is her own peaceful slumber and dark serenity which draws her sorrow. Now with not ever a realization her next emotions are spawned ANGUISH SORROW PAIN Ecstasy shall be reserved for only the pure of heart! A dedication to love. Jasmine I am a ghost to the world, trapped behind pleasantries and political correctness. I am a message from the gods. I am discrete, and hidden within every great spirit. I am serendipity, and a muse to all great artists. I am free and obey no law, for it is I who governs the world. I am dynamic static and fire water. I am the only one who is always fair. I am the only one who will never hate. Even nature is a thing I am always far above, for I am the omnipotent immortal named love. Strangers Do you know when your first kiss will happen, When your standing with your lover for the first time, in the cool breeze of a winter night? Can you know then, that a heartbeat later the two of you will meet again, and that night before you part for the first time your lips will meet? Can you know, In the breeze of that winter night that you will love them? Will they know, When they smile shyly back at you that You want them? What would the world be if you knew, standing there in that cool breeze that this person you just met would be with you forever, before you ever even touched? A Doves Soul As midnight stars cross their own hazy trails Two souls gazed into the heavens They wondered could this be it or is there... When its there, When the feelings really there, You can’t deny it You don’t need words These two spoke from across their worlds. Brought to earth in a heavenly, lively rainbow of stars, Upon her dawn breaks She is born. Into to a life of magik, Mystery, Things she couldn’t possibly understand. She is born and awakens. She opens her eyes To see life for the first time In some unknown way She still feels her star crossed lover Opening his eyes As his life has just begun He sees her and her him For the first time they say hi and awaken to dawn. Her eyes are deep, Passionate, Filled with a gaze of beauty. She loves life She can feel it, She wants to live, love, Experience everything there is. Where are her eyes now As she is here on earth Where is she now? As she awakes; She greets the morning With praise from the sun She sees and understands. Her legs stretch Arms reach towards the sky. A subtle yawn and rub against silky skin. She rubs out the daze and gently gets up to live. It is a new day again Another experience, another life Again a new world to live and a new reason to help. Its eyes, It’s all in eyes for people. Mystical mirrors, Guiding hallways to the enigma of our souls. People don’t say what they mean with their eyes... Anymore They drown themselves In the truths they have sworn to live by Those truths They may be nothing more than The rules, The restrictions Of a society One we have chosen to live in. Men cloud their eyes With the truths of men Sometimes their eyes become not like mystical mirrors, But instead unbreakable unbeatable shields To protect from any thought, From all life that exists outside their own world, This world is nothing Only they can see it. These are not the men that open their eyes Like those dazed by a billion colors and lights Those who paint a picture of existence on their mind. They are beautiful, Those men and women that allow their eyes to accept The celestial blue beams of the mother of the ocean. They are truly beautiful. When their eyes are open It is not logic Or control Or drive Or fear They see in the energy of their kindred. It is what people see in them that they can see in others, Love .,.... They are in love Not just with a concept a game or soul, But life and love it self. It is this that we see in them. That they feel for us It is what they are, who they are. Their eyes are looking for someone to experience it with. And they met for the first time, They saw deep, far and further than they know Into each others souls There is magik in hands. They are glorious More powerful than any of mans creations. Hands can tell us the truth. They can break walls, Mold worlds Most use their hands to show mystery Explain the unknown Few use their hands to tell someone they exist It’s more than they can see Say or even think. A gentle touch A caress across her palm, and A flush of new color of life, Now just a question; of her own world. Who am I? Their fingers fall into their hands A touch of existence, bliss, ... magik. Hands create magik and wonder They are great To those who want to learn. Magik is mystery yet untold Our hands open the door way To a world without words, So they learned their entire lives From their hands, From fingertips to thumb wars They knew everything, They sat in silence To hear their hearts tell them more. Then she awoke Opened her eyes and… He was there!... “hi do you want to see the world” I brought her to the edge of the galaxy a place of wonder and maze. I brought her to the edge of existence, she awoke in a place she’s never been, a new galaxy, Something she’s never seen at home, Something she’s never seen in life. She is amazed. We sat for awhile. For a long time we just listened. Not to the superficial Harsh realities of nature and life But, that lingering question between our own true essence. We listened and sat on the edge of the world About to fall off. Feeling, waiting, wondering We spent our time in the true catacombs of life. We journeyed through them Across lines of passion, past and future. Finally I looked into her eyes, Her daughters of the moon I saw for the first time Amazement... I kissed her We dreamed into each others lives. I felt her It was more than touch It was life for the first time for a moment the truth of beauty was released I was amazed. I held her,…. And spoke “I.... I want you to feel free forever” A foreword on affection. To know without knowing see without seeing and feel with out feeling and say “NOTHING” It’s all about the feel the flow the energy inside. Everything and everyone. In a moment two beings get it the feel the love and the life of all beings. When they get it perfectly and completely, for one moment they understand and know why they are here. That’s not love. . Its fleeting fading, like the freedom of desire and passion has lit the fires of lust, burned them to their core and sparked for a second with all the energy in the universe and then with out notice or reason all the sudden the lights go out and the fire is extinguished sooner then it began. Soon the passion is gone and the love they had for a second the mystery and excitement is gone the flame dowsed by the waters of fear and addiction and always love. Why can’t they just release themselves to the moment and just feel it. The exotic desire to be free, to love and to be loved and exist in nature as they never had on earth. It’s the moment the instant and second they love and the flash when it exists. When it exists and they both know it they feel it and then they must dwell on it and live there and understand without fear just for a second, beauty. Without fear a being can’t exist in love, conversely it’s not possible to truly love and feel the soul of someone if this being is afraid. A being can’t be afraid of anything thing, if they wish to ride the snake without fear no matter what might happen. When they’re not afraid they understand and can look deep into each other into others own souls and see everything, but they will see everything and they have to be willing to accept and know that every part of this person you love this true desire this bliss, this sublime, it is everything and there is nothing, no addiction, no fear anymore Now it is love and you lie there with her in bliss. You just know its great just wondrous perfect and the only thing you fear is if there is something in this world that could take this beautiful creation away from you, nothing. Michael The Real World Real I will be forever Fake I am not Society is the mirror of TV In Society Image is ALL Judge I will not Nor, shall I conform to or create standards Judge each other not I This is a weird world Where life is fake and everyone is a Californication Family Insanity I was maybe fourteen and I was in my room quietly playing video games. All of the sudden my door flew open and my mom appeared outside. Her face appeared a bit deranged. Her brow was furrowed and her cheeks were nearly hot pink. Her hair looked gangly and unwashed and more brown than blonde. She seemed to be holding herself up on my door frame and door handle. She asked me in her typical snappy and commanding voice , "Where are the ropes, do we have any ropes?", I just said "No, I don't know", hoping she would leave me alone and I could get back to my video game. Usually if I try to talk to her any longer she will try to tell me what I am doing is wrong and how I shouldn't be doing it. So I felt a typically short answer was the best one I could give and it seemed to work. She shut the door and went down stairs, presumably to look for ropes... Later that night, I went down stairs to go to the kitchen to get some food to munch on while I was playing my video game. I saw my mother sitting in the dining room with a steak knife in hand obsessively etching little marks into our table. And I think she was saying something, but I couldn't tell what. I stood very far away and asked if she was O.K., but she just kept slamming the knife into the table and muttering under her breath. At this point I was pretty sure something wasn't right and I was about to make a dash in front of her to grab the phone when all of the sudden her ex-boyfriend randomly showed up and rushed into the house after having seen her through the sliding glass window. Todd rushed to the table and immediately tried for the knife. But she wasn't quite ready to give it up so she (in her mind playfully) slashed at him, and missed. He told her to "Give me that knife Pam", but she wouldn't listen at all. Out of her ranting most of I could understand was "I hate you" and either "let me go", or "I want to go". After about an hour they convinced her to go to the hospital where her stomach was pumped for alcohol poisoning. My Sixteenth Birthday This Morning It was 7:30 and the alarm was going off. Err... Err... Err... Err... Err... went on for an hour. Then it stopped. I could tell it was raining, the misty morning air ran over my face through my window. I opened my eyes and I couldn't take it. Lying there in bed I felt a tear crawl out of my eye down the side of my face and drop off of my ear onto my pillow. I stared at my ceiling for a few minutes while I laid on my bed and cried... Yesterday Morning The first thing I heard was my mom screaming "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE STILL IN BED!!!" "YOU'RE ALREADY LATE AGAIN!!" "AND THIS ROOM IS A PIG-STY!" Then she SLAMMMed ... my door shut, stomped down the stairs, in her high heel boots, grabbed her bag and purse, jingled her keys opened the front door walked out and slammed it shut. I waited until I heard her car leave before I reached under my bed for my home made bowl. I packed it with weed from my pocket, pressed play on my cd-player, lit the bowl and took a hit right as Brad Nowelle sang "There will come a time when all that shit won't matter". After I got on my bike rode to school and wondered why my morning suck so much? A few days ago I was nervous coming home from school. It was tough to avoid my mom lately, there was probably something she wanted to yell at me for. I slowly crept up our driveway then quietly onto our deck and in thru the front door. I went to run up the stairs to hibernate in my room, but I didn't make it. "Michael!" she shouted from the kitchen table. "Come in here!" she ordered. regretfully I complied and responded with as much spite as I could muster, "Why?". We yelled at each other for twenty minutes, about why I sounded spiteful, until she finally told me what she wanted. She said the school called again because I was late. Then she continued and told me I missed my morning classes again. She said I would lose credit that I couldn't make it up and she wouldn't help me or talk to the school. I tried to explain that it was tough to wake up and I thought I might be depressed, but she said, "You're smarter than that!" "You should know you have to go to school!" "You weren't sick, you should have been in class those days!" Eventually the conversation ended with her telling me to drop out of high school and me responding with "Fine, Fuck You!" walking out and slamming the door. Tomorrow I wasn't expecting to happen, because after I wiped the tears away from my face, I realized I never wanted to see her again. I didn't want to be afraid of coming home anymore. I just wanted this whole thing to end. I pulled the covers off of my body and got out of bed. I was dressed still and there was an empty baggy in my pocket which I filled with all the pills I could find. I grabbed my moms unopened Bacardi and walked out the front door into the rain. I slammed the door shut and kicked the screen. Slowly I drifted away from my house over a grassy field and into the woods. I cried as I walked, a couple of times I tried screaming over the rain, but I don't think anyone heard. I walked for a few miles in the rain through the woods away from my life. I laid down in a hole I found on the side of a rock wall. I swallowed all the pills and drank the bottle until I passed out.. expecting never to see tomorrow... EMPATHY I know you’re out there. I hear your whispers float into my mind. I see your transcendental form haze my eyes. HOPE 2 HELL To find my way I’ll go on forever. You the seer of my eternal endeavor fly me to hope as light as a feather. HELL 2 HOPE I know your thoughts, heart and goals. I’ve not yet decided if I like your souls. Some are heaven and some are hell. Some have risen and some have fell. But I know all this, for it is my spell. I live it forever from Hope to Hell. Millions of People Trapped In Poems I don’t hear voices, only thoughts. The thoughts of a million humming birds Or just one human being. Flying through the airways, They are a blue crystalline fabric, Molding the whole damned world. All one must do is look, To see this starry drop. Under the guise of conversation, In the fallen shelters of heaven, No mortal tells their thought. Their minds are always daunted, Lost in a world of hate. Edmund The Fuck Life was crazy. I entered this hell on the move in a home away from home. Before I knew it the bitter sweet poison of life which filled my mom’s veins soon fueled my flask. I journeyed far and wide searching for my life my reality I never found it I looked for everything without ever really knowing what I wanted I just wanted to get away from the one night stay the wake up the next day I just wanted to play I tried, I looked for the good, I wanted to love I never did I was taught to be a player To never be myself I was there to perform, never be myself I played so many people But I never played myself. Growing Up In The Burbs When I was young, horny and bored, I was active all the time. My emotions ran wild and I was vicious at school and in my home. My thoughts then moved a mile a minute so I decided it was time to choose my drug. Fifteen years old and I had never once altered the physical state of my mind. I wanted to die, I always felt like crap. Statistically I wasn't wrong Everyone's depressed Everyone uses something... So I decided to choose my drug, but I didn't know what I needed. So I did it all. Started with pot and then some speed a little wu banger. I stared to feel good. I tried other things like acid when I wanted to die and I found a drug that shows you death. It was called dust. I tried drinking some. I still felt like crap a lot, but only when I didn't have anything. I blew some yay-yo and at least a few bumps of K. I've had bangin shrewms and I'm always smoking pot. Today I'm feeling better, still smokin pot, not really trippin or such anymore, but I did find my drug. Photo By Joshua Meles “After many false starts over three decades, the Canadian government has at last introduced legislation to remove criminal penalties for the possession of an ounce of marijuana.” 6/11/031 Toronto Smoke cascades into clouds above our heads behind us stands the metropolis of a million people, and a few high rise buildings which impose upon the horizon. Our crowd roars with laughing and coughing. The blunt, as big as my forearm, and wide as two of my fingers, is moving from pot head to pot head a puff, puff at a time. After my pass, I look right over an officer and release a massive cloud of my own. At last we’ve won! 1American Laws, Foreign Lands O cannabis! Pot decriminalization in Canada highlights U.S. isolation by Robert MacCoun Wednesday, June 11, 2003 (Just the first paragraph) From the San Francisco Chronicle Times and Friends Collectively confused and collaborating to castaways a woeful moody moment. We’re finding sweet salvation from the sudden death of thought s of just moments ago. Toke and smoke and light one up to take away our past. Reminisce of Christmas trees and always puff, puff, pass. When good friends get together we always smoke a blunt. Leaving our minds at every night, that’s our favorite stunt. Dazed and confused in a black bottomless pit Confused trapped in a silent awe, mystery is him, but he does not know all His hell is others heaven He goes about his way no problems they see this kid is smart this kid we set apart this kid is amazing he knows of all things my thoughts can he hear as this rings true to my ear I have no clue I know not what you do I feel so alone so left in the dust There is no one left no one left here to trust I walk thru my hell, they all think I’m so well Sometimes I know and can feel all their pain Other times I feel sheltered and out of their lane The world is vast and open to me Some hide their thoughts others tell with glee The truth of the matter is I’m not quite sure I can not tell yet whose heart is pure I know there are some things I like in this world And then there are others that piss me off when unfurled The end of my rope the truly forsaken Envy is worthless and pride, love and lust only one of the three do I truly trust My world looks the same when turned upside down I’m sure it’ll be worse when the true meaning is found It seems an adventure all the things that I’ve done The truth of the matter is its barely begun Happiness is a truly sick word The meaning of which I have found thru the herb The hell of the world I have taken for free The hell of a Pisces for that is me. The We’re going Krazy, Every one’s gone Krazy No we don’t care no more. Cause Satan’s at the door. Yeah ya know these kids are Krazy, Krazy indeed. Yeah these Kids are Krazy they’re all Krazy about weed. The asteroid it is coming, it’s going to hit us and we’ll all die. It still just does not matter, there is no reason left to cry. So why not just forget it, we’ll just sit back and get high. Yeah, let’s just forget it, we’ll all go to hell to fly. Cause we are the youth. Yes we are the future of your world. We are your fairytale unfurled. And we still can’t remember when goodness once prevailed. Brandon Forever Loved Is Brandon The Great Immortal He lives as a god in my heart Forever. He is a hero to all those he Loved. This legend reveals his feats and who he Is. This is a story about my brother Brandon. From his life to death I will show all to Thee. His sacrifice was tragic but also Great. His love and purpose have made him Immortal. Brandon's Watch I guess for an artist, art must be complicated; whatever the art is or can be defined as doesn't really matter, the art simply must be complicated. Me for instance, I have this watch... its a very simple, but still very important watch. I want to write about it like an artist, so it can't be simple this watch must be complicated, at least for me as the artist. Otherwise the readers won't understand how simple and plain this watch is. They'll miss the point of my whole poem Which is that my watch is simple. It is a thing on my wrist which tells time. That's it. And this is a simple poem about a simple watch, my watch. A watch my brother used to wear, the one he always kept 3 minutes fast. The same watch I never set the time on because I didn't want to ruin one of the last things he did. Just a simple watch, nothing really remarkable about it, well except maybe the 1/8 karat diamond, the really good laser cut diamond my brother picked out for that reason, but that's it, a black face, a couple of hands, no numbers even, just a simple watch I wear. And before this watch was mine it was my mothers, and I assure you for the sake of the poem, she got it very simply from the police after they had filled out some very easy paperwork and taken it from the coroner who had previously taken it off of my brothers arm a day after his last day of being sixteen. And I wear this watch simply because I Love Him. Waiting In The High School Parking Lot My system is cranking at sixty percent of it's 1350 watt capacity. Everyone in seventh period even those sleeping in class or singing in chorus can hear its' BOOM BOOM booming bass. My brother Brandon's going to ditch again, like he always does. Which is why he asks me give him a ride. He'll walk out of class with a note one to go to the nurse or maybe even just the bathroom. Then instead he will walk right out the side doors down the asphalt path and into my 1984 Olds Cutlass Supreme. I'll take him where-ever he wants to go. We might even get to chill, before I have to go to work or our mom comes back to the house. Because usually we try to avoid her. He's taking longer than usual so I spark the engine light my cigarette and tap the horn just in case he's close. But sure enough he bursts out the side doors and jumps into my car cranks my system even louder and we drive off to do something better with our time. A True Story (about Brandon And Mike ) SPEAKING Sharing of things just stuff, we talked. Me on his bed him on his computer. We were completely absorbed. It’s been at least six months since I’ve slept here. He’s my brother I loved him and we just talked all night. Until I went back into my room and closed the door. ChAoS I had no idea what happened. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to cry. To scream. All my mom could do on the ride to the hospital was blame, and accuse me of getting him high, helping him to die. I didn’t, why would I; I couldn’t And then I saw him there, His eyes glassy and pupils dilated. He seemed to recognize me, but I couldn’t really hear him talk sometimes though brothers can have other ways to let things out, he told me something I thought he was gonna die I wanted to save him, But they wanted me to let go to leave. DECEPTION I talked to her all the way to the parking lot, everything I thought what we could maybe do to help him, but she hated me. She thought I did this, that I gave him drugs So, she told me I was acting weird. She said I should talk to some people. We weren’t leaving until I did. I told her fine. It doesn’t matter. I’ll go I thought maybe this would prove something. BETRAYAL Two more motion sensor sliding doors, a short hallway and a man at a desk Who after my mom and him spoke in whispered tones; politely asks if I wouldn’t mind waiting by the phones so she could tell them how crazy I was, what I did to my brother and what I was planning on doing to myself and it sounded perfect. They spoke to me for a short time. After which they told me I could either… politely walk through two crazy one way doors or I could be escorted in by the police, who they said had just been called. So I left my mom, my personal possessions, even my clothes and I went in for the second time this life. LEFT ALONE Scared, worried, confused and distraught I removed all my clothes and I put on their standard green and white with ties in the back johnny. I left the bathroom and all I had left was taken and locked in a “safe place”. The I was told I could wait, I could wait for the doctor. They refused answer or response to any and all questions about my brother, ……or when I could leave. Nervous and very concerned, I believe I asked if there was anything I could do. A very short black orderly intercepted my question, replied, and expected absolute obedience in my response. CONFRONTATION The short black orderly informed me I could either sit in a chair or watch T.V. I sat in a room with a chair facing the T.V. He asked “What are you doing”! “Watching T.V. oh and sitting down”, I said. He informed me I was testing him, the punishment for such subordination is severe Before I could get up, four guards escorted me from my seat. HALDOL Strapped to a bed by feet and arms, Howls of “why!” and “how!” or “this isn’t fair” escaped from my mouth. Then in walked the Drug A little more important than the rest he seemed. And as a dope dealer might do to a dope whore; the Drug wrapped a band around my arm tapped the vein a couple times and after wiping the alcohol, the Drug penetrated my veins and let his poison swim, into my arms and blood stream. Thirty seconds before I was totally gone he asked me who I wanted to be With one word I answered. After that the rest seemed a clutter between reality and dreams When I finally awoke my mind was blank, but not Empty. Luckily I had survived. BRANDON After the mandatory breakfast I was able to use the phone. I looked at first in the Yellow Pages for a Lawyer, but apparently they tear those pages out in a Hospital. I resolved to call home in the hopes of finding a way out. I called… It rang twice.. .. .. Brandon picked up, he was o.k.! Thank God I thought. He told me what mom thought; and that really he had only had one adderall. The drug test said the same. I could tell she didn’t believe him, but I did. Even the doctors resolved it to be just a weird incident, that might require MRIs and follow-ups. Still she didn’t believe him. But I told him not to worry I’ll be out soon I know they can’t keep me here forever. ESCAPE Finally a day or two later they did let me out. My mom picked me up. I got the pills they said I should take. She still thought the hospital was wrong. She never wanted me back out, but once again, they told her I seem perfectly fine despite her wild accusations. There was nothing she could do, but let me back into her house. For some reason I was fine with that but it never really seemed like an escape. Later On Waking up in a place I know Really just the house next door. Eating a bit of food I bought From moneys saved for survival. It’s been three days since I’ve been back home. She doesn’t care or hug And almost never says she loves me. I’m going to go back just one more time I’ll tell her that I’m leaving. Later On Hi mom, I came back, to get my stuff I just wanted you to know, I can’t stand it here I’m moving out for good And I’m not telling you where I’m going. You disrespectful, self absorbed ungrateful druggie brat Go on, move out, take your stuff and go And by the way where is that report card you’ve been hiding You know what, never mind I’m done I’m through and I just don’t care anymore. Later On Brandon took out all his clothes, But he left them in the woods. He lit a blunt he had rolled up He was just hoping to stop crying. He tied a rope around his neck And he climbed up a sturdy tree. He secured the rope around a branch. And he let himself fall free. The last thing he had said to me was “I’ll see you… Later on… In loving memory of Brandon Nicholas Eza. Things That Can't Be Said I miss you man and those nights we spent quietly watching movies talking about glory or gods. I miss your smile man the one you could always put on no matter what happened. and I miss your jokes like milkshakes flying off of roller coasters onto random people waiting in line because it just didn't matter. And I wish I was just too busy to see you like I am for everyone else. I wish you were only gone for awhile or off in Canada working a lot and just out of touch But I know,.. I know... and I still miss you man every single day. in dedication to; Brandon Nicholas Eza 8/13/88-7/03/05 Ten Minutes Ago... Ten minutes ago I was gonna leave and run. But then she had to say it, I can't remember what it was I just can't believe she said it. Fuck this shit I don't need a gun. Just a little rope, to tie around my neck, just a little something to help me cope. That fucking bitch she really did she said I wouldn't die that fucking she really did she laughed at me when I began to cry. If theres one thing I can't take it's believing I can't die. But look I did you fucking bitch and now I hope you lie in your bed all alone by yourself where I can watch you while you cry. God REALITY The night is here the dawn of fear Is time to rest those weary eyes And disperse of light until sunrise A bright blue moon smiles above While hysteric humans push and shove But all the time these humans fight They know not of their own true might At night has come the dawn of time At night is when they leave their mind They choose the path of death and destruction For what they cause is eternal combustion. A Thought Is... Colors, colors swirling inside a pear shaped pensive. Green shining gold with a red sun like orange ring which engulfs the others until purple perspires and radiates darkness then it slowly transforms into the black of marble, gleaming until all of the sudden the moments are forgotten and the colors swirl again. This is What We Eat Here! Truth is the perception of boundaries. When we know we believe in truth. Love is the perception of creation. When we think we believe in love Life is the perception of others. When we believe in freedom we are alive. Fate is to perceive truth is love. If you believe reality is what you perceive you’re only wrong if you believe it. Perception is the belief of reality. When you know you are real you perceive you will die. And WE are that which Believes of all are will become of in and with God. The Truth is God is all around us in a haze of misty stars. God is that which we can hold and imagine in our hand. God is our very essence not just one or two or three, but each and every being that hasn't quite gone free. We control and touch and move thought|emmotion with each and every other page. One day even the humble peasant will learn to be a sage. God is all that never ends, but then so are we. God is all, but that which you create, for that God could never be. Sympathy A man once compared himself to Jesus and Lucifer. I listened as he told me “I asked myself a question” he said “I asked who am I more like Jesus or Lucifer” ”Lucifer”, I said. He retorted “yes but why?” “well because your scary, and crazy...” he stopped me mid sentence “No, I’ll tell you why” he paused did his thing “It is because when Jesus died he didn’t go to heaven.” “he couldn’t; when he died he said, he was dying for the sins of all mankind”, “when he died he died with sin in his blood” “All of mankind’s sin and so according to the bible he would have been generally condemned to hell”, “Oh my god your right Jesus is trapped in hell that’s hilarious” I said, he smiled a bit but he had this really otherworldly look in his eye as he did. He took a drag off his cig and puffed the blunt and then looked up at me again. “but that’s not it, with Jesus the almighty out of the way so to put it, there is no longer anything to keep Lucifer from heaven, so Lucifer now controls heaven and it is The Almighty who is now condemned to hell” another drag off his cig “so hell is heaven and heaven is hell” I said “yes, and yes there is still more” “when Jesus died he proclaimed he was dying for all the sins of mankind” “he didn’t specify all sins of mankind for this moment this second; he said all sins of mankind” “this means Jesus proclaimed that there was no more sin ever or at least not fear of it” “by Jesus’ own words he has allowed all who die to enter heaven for they would always be free from sin. Jesus had taken it for his own” he waited a moment and I sat in awe “so according to Christianity no matter what you do you go to heaven” At that point he turned put his cigarette out on the rock next to him looked up and quickly vanished into the night. Lucifer Hidden in your heart and spirit I am a warrior And I am a champion I battle for your mind I fight for your soul and I win There is no gamble no chance no fate All anyone needs Is a nudge A push Sometimes just an edge And They always fall. The Lucifarian Concept “What if Lucifer was Something Else?” Lucifer speaks, In fun, with fears, threats, chaos and fires. Lucifer knows it doesn’t matter. Why would the world really care anyway? The end result is always annihilation. Lucifer knows that nothing is completely collective; Lucifer tells us Sacrifice to Save Kill or be Killed and the world can take you, but Lucifer knows we can’t take it. Lucifer knows we cannot know more than he knows about the world or science or nature, But even Lucifer knows there is nothing which can know it all at once. We are less than God. We are a piece of God. And until there is only one Myself, God and even animals Will not be greatest! God speaks, with his fruits, gifts, wisdoms and longings to see a greater good. God tells Lucifer we want to save a piece, just a bit of every living thing that encompasses the whole FOREVER. We want something that can be a record of its existence something which will continue on from world to world. God tells us nothing can let something go to save something else. If both can’t be saved the other will be lost later anyways. God knows anything that kills cannot save itself and will never be united. God knows one day When we have advanced Beyond nature Beyond the physical Beyond Truth That we will know more than Lucifer because we accepted that we knew less. God tells us we could, If we all focus on separate facets of different aspects of reality within our own world, We could. No one consciousness will ever know it all unless there becomes only one consciousness But we were created to advance past the abilities of one mind. God told us he created us in his image. Lucifer told us we will never be as great as God. GOD’s Prayer Forget your past. Forget your faith. Lose everything you own. And be reborn. You have obviously gotten it wrong. As a whole; You murder viscously. You destroy your own habitat. and You ACT AS METATRON! As individuals; You believe the lies. You Hate. and You yourself have lied. START AGAIN Start with your own ideas. and Learn only from the thoughts you have created! And By No Means; Lie. A species that lies never knows the truth. Do NOT; Destroy or cause lasting harm. A species that destroys is always destroyed. And You Must Allow; All Life to be Free. Only a species that is free can advance or evolve. Learn this, For I pray this to be The Last Apocalypse. The Prophecies Of Apocalyptic Faith War flies on his horse with absolute height War flies on his horse prepared to fight War brings us our chaos destruction and rage War destroys everything that was once made Pestilence soars through the air with all diseases Pestilence soars through the air our health it seizes Pestilence brings us our sick, our weary, our pained Pestilence depletes our souls till we’re totally drained Famine glides on the land and affects all creatures Famine glides on the land and steals our fat features Famine brings us our hunger, our fasting, our light Famine brings us our weakened our pained an evil sight Death rides without passion, life, or light Death rides without many, only eternal night Death brings us all what we have seen before Death steals our souls and will forever soar An apocalypse is coming I can see it quite near An apocalypse is coming I can feel it quite strong An apocalypse is coming don’t laugh and jeer An apocalypse is coming where everything’s wrong The skies are on fire and the land is all gone These four horsemen will ride through the night These four horsemen will provide the last sight And when they come to take the ultimate cost ALL IS LOST A Few Helpful Thoughts Think about it. What is your reflection doing? Every thing and any now is possible then and forever. Freewill is the only Freedom. Nothing, but choices can one own.