An English Writer's Mind

There's no sign of sleet

Oh how a wonderful feat

That I take a seat

On the beach where I will meet

The waves crashing at my feet.

Have you ever wondered what hell was like? No. You’ve only experienced paradise. Fuck the thought that brought the ideology Of an afterlife. What about the man that lost his wife Due to some genetic creature of life. Evolutionary biology, one hell of a strife. Continue spreading lies until all lives will dive.
Protect the rights of the unborn; your alibi?  Oh, are you too worried that a fetus is alive? Then why do you dismiss the ones that cry? Wanting only help so they can get by? Hopeless in life; do you wish them to die?
Humanity is null, your god is only paper. All that matters, is if you are made safer. You care only for your own profit, So create your own prophet. Not a messiah that states, “Treat all like yourselves,” You wouldn’t wish you dead, Yet your lies pour like a faucet, Still you deem that others have lost it. Life must be nice that you to get to savor The privileges of white dominated behavior.

The life of a fart
One begs to wonder,
Whether we seek art,
Or loot to plunder.

Must we pass like air,
Only forgotten?
Or like a corsair,
To the core, rotten.

Our life is not gas,
For we are carbon.
This as well shall pass,
Pour me a bourbon.

Rohnert Park, what a town.
No enjoyment in LA,
That is all I have to say.
Oh, how blissful the sound.

A fragrance so near heaven;
If you adore the smell of ass,
Then this town is filled with high class,
So good, you'll be left beggin'.

A Californian's dream come true
To live near a farm than big cities
I haven't even found cute kitties
Surrounded by the stench of poo.

What's a city boy to lose?
Come experience the beauty
Luscious green filled with cow duty
So wondrous one needs to roose.

Yes, one hell of a place.
Unrivaled Mexican food
LA is just too damn rude.
No better place to grace.

You took all you needed from me,
Then left me to the wolves.

But never did you expect that I would be,
Emerging from the woods, 

An alpha to the hounds,
Bitch.

The United States needs liberation from itself
This government has raped, pillaged, and deceived
All that are not white or male.

Those that lack any wealth
That do not align with what the Christians believed
Are assigned a new hell.

Denied from central health
And education will not be received
Tragic is all we can tell.

Life does not end when Death cradles a soul like a newborn shortly after their departure from their Earthly life. No, far different. And religion had it wrong from their inception; all religion, and all beliefs had it wrong. There is no paradise, there is no joy for those that lived a fruitful and gracious life. Unity, bliss, pain, and comfort are all just cycled emotions that are cast upon from the Wardens that control the afterdeath, as it is difficult to consider it life. People wander the land of Alyselden as broken spirits, only to be fodder to the Wardens of the world: The Warden of Justice, The Warden of Wickedness, The Warden of Solitude, and The Warden of Harmony.             The Warden of Harmony is almost laughable as its goal is to harmonize all spirits that walk this realm. The reason for its position to be in such a mockery of state is that all spirits derive from the human realm, and humanity is not known for its harmony. The few that cared to live peacefu…

Never look to the ground
As you plummet
Let your eyes
Enjoy the descending flight
Death appears for all that live
So live while you fall.

This sounds absurd
Officer
Unlike what you may have heard.
Giving that my vision is blurred
Hell, even my speech is slurred,
Seriously, I'm not under the influence, sir.
Happens that some bird
Instantly dropped a turd
That's what caused this to occur.

May I be honest with you?
What I'm about to tell you is rather true,
That I do struggle with a drug or two
So I can sleep and not wake up past noon.

While it'd be nice to call me lazy
For my time spent in bed. I'm actually hazy,
Lost in an ecliptic struggle that's known as my mind,
Every time I wake I'm feeling mentally blind
And I just can't unwind.
I feel like I'm in this never ending bind,
Making my nights combined
With liquor and pills
That'll calm the chills

I know I'll wake every morning
There's no need for mourning.
These aren't the drugs that'll fuck me up.
They're just making me sane,
Making it possible to explain
That this worldly domain
Isn't lived in vain.
It's just a shame
That this is what I have to do to not be insane.

Have you ever stared into the eyes of the dead
when your thoughts have said that you were
bred to be haunted by these thoughts of suicide?
When you feel that those thoughts define how you
should be defied, feeling like you've been crucified
or brutalized by your inner conscience, telling you
that you're worthless, that there's no point in workin'
or breathin', that all are just deceivin' you. And
how you would much rather eat a bullet to neutralize
those thoughts that paralyze you from succeedin'.
That you're no better than a heathen in the eyes of
a Christian. Just some parasite, feedin' on the
food that others need to be alive. You feel that you
have no right to thrive, that you'd be better off
if you took a dive, but then feel ashamed so you
have to disguise the mental struggle and it's just
so fucking hard to survive, because all you want
to do is apologize for taking up space that some
other life that should have replaced you, and whil…

This is hard.
I'm trying to write a poem of the pain of the past,
but alas, I strain my brain trying to explain,
the pain, like a broken glass window pane.
But the truth is, that time has passed and this poem
makes it sound like I owe them the right to a voice.
So I pretend on my end that I'm angry and try
to force some thoughts of what happened to me
like it's some astronomical catastrophe,
but really its those events and pain that gave me the
Self gain and respect that's made me this crazy
And I wouldn't trade it.

You see,
I can go on a tangent where I say "just let me
Vent," That these words were sent with the mission
To represent all those that suffered like in some
Convent, but my suffering is mine alone so I
Don't need a clone speaking with the same tone
like some recording on the phone. My past is
Unique, just like yours, so there's no need to
seek someone to speak what you think, for your
Voice is louder and prouder than you think and
You …

I've spoken with many people about the great opportunity that came from this. I never anticipated to ever have a college life. My family always told me to just start working to sustain myself, but when you are someone that lives for the arts, you don't care to sustain life, you want to create a purpose beyond a family. Here's to my BA that I hope to achieve before summer of 2017.

You said we would be friends for eternity, But here I lay, wallowing in misery. Like a clepto, the world steals lives from me You were no exception. Another casualty.
My thoughts trail back into our inception; What created this bond? A competition. Skill arcades, that bore no repetition. T’was when we met, after cashed tuition.
Years since you left, still I think all the same; That I was blessed, with a friend in your name. Your loss was enough to drive me insane, Left me hopeless and wished for one final game.
Your memories still linger, and your joy was well wanted, So do me one last favor, friend, and please keep me haunted.

Don't blame me
For your insecurity
With your inability
To ease your mind
Of where about I'll be.

It's a demand not a plea
With anger behind that decree
That I must tell thee
But I'm not inclined
To tell anything I see.

I am free
Like a fish at sea
Or like a wild flea
For my life is defined
By none other than me.

No longer in infancy
I found stability
The inevitability
That I must remind
I have my own responsibility.

In here I wanted to share an essay I wrote about Thomas Hobbes and how if he would have lived in a period where England wasn't in a civil war, he would have viewed the same results.

Social Fragmentation     Many would state that war reveals just how primitive humanity really is. When an individual has views different than those of one's own, conflict often arises. Thomas Hobbes argued that humanity is savage by nature, thus in the need of governing as the only other alternative is chaos. Within this governing state it is in the best interest of all people to follow the rule of the head that controls, unless it is at the cost of lives. Only then should the people rise to reestablish order and end tyranny. There is reason to believe that Thomas Hobbes' views were influenced by the English Civil War and the rift in religious beliefs. Still, even if Thomas Hobbes had lived in a time of peace, there is reason to believe that the concept of Leviathan would have still existed and…

Wow! I just got accepted to Sonoma State. I'm both excited and conflicted.

I received some really great news I received from my campus. I was asked and offered a position on being a judge for a poetry and short story competition held by the campus community. It's a great add-on to my resume, and I'm looking forward to seeing many people's work.

St. Patrick's Day
A holiday
Where all are content and merry.

From coastal bay
To inland way
All faces are flushed to cherry.

So give away
Your joyful ray
To all this anniversary.

From Bombay
To an Irish alley
Let make it extraordinary.

Puffins, Puffins,
            Where do you go?
Puffins, Puffins,
            So foul to swallow.
With your beak, I was sparked with curiosity;
           I followed with delight,
With words not meek, you are an atrocity,
          You left me to gripe.
Puffins, Puffins,
            Why did you come?
Puffins, Puffins,
            Truth is, we are done.
You cannot swim, you shrivel and prune,
          The taste I cannot bare,
Like a trash bin, rotting food in June;
          Never again, this I swear.

It was the time in September's date,
That I decided to go upstate.
                                  It wasn't fate
That I visited the golden gate;
But twas a result from a frozen wake.

How ruthless the darkness set
That it would not let me forget
Reasons for my waking sweat.

Broken apart, the ties were severed,
It was the end of this endeavor.
                    Left weak as a feather
Bound and feeling under the weather;
Intruding past, with nothing to tether.

Hope did come to make its way
In showing forth a better day
Halting thoughts from going stray.

Death's bony fingers pulled me to hell,
But friends helped me get well,
                   No longer will I dwell
And what caused it all to fail;
I escaped my mind. My prison. My jail.

The Darkest Hour
The darkest hour doesn't come in the dead of night, But the moment we lose the will to fight Where we forget what is right And lose sight Which then brings a blight That takes away the light that shines bright Causing fright that leads to hate and eventually spite.
Our darkest hour comes when we lose hope. When we can no longer cope Like a tightrope Afraid to fall down the slope So we sit in darkness, in agony, and mope.

The trickles of rain cast upon my body,
That feeling of cleanliness and refreshing zest;
I scrub gently, with soap upon my breast.
When the droplets stop, I feel an oddity.
Why now must the sharks of brown cry?
The moment that I far from dry,
A true inconvenience
To allow this deliverance.