clown

Making the clown laugh
was all I ever wanted.

With his painted on smile
and his oversized shoes,
I seized the opportunity
to create cracks in his facade.

The tears of a clown are the easily found objects,
readily available to anyone who
can light fire to a library, or
silence the innocents innocence.

But the laughter…
the smiles…
genuine and true…
from deep within the bowels of the ribbons and balloons.
Those are the dreams of unicorns and rainbows
that every child seeks when drifting away
into the sandy beaches of nighttime.

So bring upon him your comedy,
your showmanship,
your tasteful humor. Add to it;
the spices of green meadows
and sunny shorelines. The fickle
winds of spring and fall,
wrapped together
in a whirlwind of newly budding and
freshly dying leaves in blazed colors
of autumn and spring.

The desire of true laughter
of deep
from the clown
is the wish-upon-a-star moment,
that we all hope for.

heart

I can’t believe in the error of my ways
They are the things often lost in the midst of my victory.
A stepping-stone of sorts;
along the blazed path of failures.

Clearly, the brightness of my future
is forever linked to the darkness of my past.
Joined together like the siamese twin freak show
found along a countryside county fair,
their existence is based solely upon their
symbiotic relationship, cell merged to cell.

As I once again, rise
the shadows release their terrible grip
on
the dawning of this new day, and
begin planning their next
secret
assault.

Turning my back on the results,
my lust for victory
outweighs the
shame of
what once was.

and can it be?

reflections

broken by the ripples of time

but

continually shaping the past

from

the present.

hardly what was once believed to be the truth

we scarcely fathom the deep instances of denial

brought to us by the unloved children of tomorrow

as they quietly step towards the black oblivion of the night.

craning our necks to be able to see where we once were

to where we want to be;

it is an obtuse illusion of death and life still reaching for progress…

or is it?

The english that spills forth from lips curled up in rebellion

is the english that breaks us free from standards that the

authority bring to it’s beings, a selfish slave.

raining down, the reign reaches down to smother the other brother while

killing the machine’s breath of simplicity.

fear and blackmail

When dealing in the business of
fear
or
blackmail,

you must first decide,
“How far do I want to take this?”
and
“Am I prepared to go all in myself?”

Because Blackmail
is a big person’s game.

You must be assured that you’ve
covered all your bases,
and all of your tracks,
if you’re trying to make another person look
worse than you already do.

Unless you’re a
yzarc
ohcysp,
“suineg”
in which case…

You never really know what reality is.

I won’t be made to fear you;
for you
have
no
credibility…
whatsoever.

Time to find some new line of business
because the fear business doesn’t suit you,
and neither does the role of the victim,
anymore.

tsuM eb emit ot worg pu.
uoY dna ruoy gnikcuf sttipmuhw.

from A to V

I never claimed to be a hero, or the hero of the day
in fact,
I distinctly remember
often
sharing how dark
and black
I am
inside.

I never wanted to be your hero
(you’re SO old, SO ugly, SO fucked in the head and yesterday’s trash)
in fact,
I doubt anyone could be.
You change who you are
at
the
whim
of your
mind.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

Like some sort of backwards moth
you fluttered around
warming yourself
to my cold
dark
heart.
Falling in a way that I should have seen,
and yet
I was mesmerized by the worship.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I had nowhere to go,
nowhere to run -
stifled
by the constant chokehold of a crooked genius
and a master manipulator,
for this was not your first game
I was not your first victim.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I saw the tears, read the stories
heard the cries for help.
But when did you really need help?
WHEN?
were you truly the victim?
DID?
the assaults really occur?
WAS?
Samwise really a part of your life?
HOW?
much is delusion and how much is reality?
And yet you continued to pursue me.

You twisted the truth
when
you felt
the
time was ripe.
You destroyed friendships.
You served as
referee
in your game called
crushing the innocents.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I told you
You are strong.
But now, I see the truth.
YouAreTheWeakestIndividual-I-HaveEverBeenCursedToKnow
because it is only the weak
that continue to pull
the
victim card…
time and time again.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

Your best bet is to stand up
stop lying
stop smiling
accept who you are
and
Deal
With
It.
Quit using others
for your own selfish gain
and
STOP
CRUSHING
INNOCENTS/INNOCENCE.

You have no idea what I may do when backed into a corner.
I suffered away as an injured puppy before
taking the blame for actions that were not
mine.

But no more will I sit in silence
and idly stand by
and watch
as I am
and those closest to me
are destroyed.

No more.

You are not the victim any longer.
It’s time for me to turn the letter I wore upside down
And go
from
A
to
V