. . . , t.o. emz
As I have
As I were
Once was not enough.
on a course you knew how much
My life wudda,cudda and shudda.
Its so phucked and Muddafracking shits that,
I went through.
Still you kept your devout ways and telling me
and my siblings.
Respect him enough so to know,
you can compare ourselves not to see,
And do know what is his
All art by Artsydhude
Poetry by O.a.M
For a forgotten god,
that did honor all that is tomorrow.
Yet he seen none all of the now,
it kept filling all his,
to be seen and saw that existed none all of his prophetic eye.
Then did not do,
all he can was,
to cast his world what he wanted it to be.
Now we are living a shared eye from his
soon only soon that all of
its stanzas and all of that immortal quatrain.
Will all of us,
feel all his pain,
and manifest his visions
that a light that should not have been ours.
. . .
are not worth my time anymore.
Since I did pry to try.
Ever I have been faithfully,
at your mercy.
What more really I can get out of your cage.
Anxiety of my Annie.
You will always stay true,
nor either leave me.
You would and will always be my skin.
Depression of my Diana,
sure I can make you leave out of me,
to enter into my own dojo at the subterranean level of my mind.
Manic madness of my MJ,
You can make all of those who would have been in,
yet to focus you in a way. . .
I can make a life in efforts of concentrated unlimited fuel.
. . . I am to presume all of the years,
and the muddled,
scrubbed and soiled,
tattered and shed.
None at all by my own assumptions
since all of these lovely anxieties,
all of my disappointments,
are nothing to someone but,
an emotional tantrum.
Yet someone who had a paper saying,
that is the only case.
Then she hands me a paper saying,
take a number,
take this pill,
and shove everything.
Since all of my life’s trial
are none but all
that matters to no one.
Only to myself
I am to see.
My subjects are the sense of my own pride.
I am proud to be an owner of my emotional assumptions,
which takes none of what
truth can show,
truth can give.
For my evidence has no bearing,
of any objective facts lies at the core
of the divine which leads me.
None to cry nor try,
what can be contrasted but always compared,
that is where I,
grew up on.
and where all my family loved since then.
I am to break,
I am to shake,
I need to bake,
So at least the ones do come up,
need not to change,
for they can correct it,
themselves for their life,
incomparable from my pride.
Have you seen a past,
full of life?
Have you known that then is not now?
I used to be,
But I still do,
I longed for a hot sexy and steamy ones,
Yet when I looked at you.
I can be sweet in your face,
but do gag on my own when you are not around.
I do wonder how Adam,
how he took a bitter tasting fig,
not knowing what he got into.
not knowing what it meant to keep blaming.
not knowing what uncomfortable life they are getting into.
I would like him more than all of the ones, who fucked up the real eden.
Your extreme is not mine to resist,
Mine is not even yours,
Thing is why do I bother give not just,
but all of my edge of my sanity.
And you tell me I am always mad at you.
Think not of the event of a minute,
while I come down from the eternity of my own madness,
thus you keep pushing.
When I do, you back up knowingly
you can see and observe for yourself,
I am not me.