The Neurotic & The Insubordinate

I'm checked out already...Two months have yet to pass.

I'm checked out already.You knew that going in.

I'd hoped it would be different. Figured it'd be ok?

No. We're not good friends. What choice do I have?

Torn between both sides.

the Neurotic and The insubordinate.

Your children cannot stand you. You do not have their best interest in mind.

You want me to support you.  I cannot have your back.

It will dig me into an early grave. Out of this place.

I cannot be your slave.

So. What is my next move?

I'm sorry to say it's silent rebellion.

Yesterday was the precursor pinnacle to today's final resolution.

I no longer want to be here.

Don't know how long it will last.

So. Silence & Division. 

Meeting after meeting.

No more kissing ass and smiling, subserviant-ism nor having of your neurotic back.

Quiet as Mice.......

In my house, Saturday morning, 

Quiet as Mice

One would never know that within these walls

exist so much life

I love these quiet mornings when everyone is asleep

and surrounded by these walls while the sun begins to peek

drinking my coffee and typing these words for you

Another amazing accomplishment, I do have to say

2008 was full of things I am proud of today

A house, a career and music within my reach

A true love and destiny at my finger tips

But then as the household wakes up, and breakfast in bed goes home

I start to regret calling you in here

Because you won't close your mouth

And talk talk talk about yourself like no one has ever listened to you before

And I have to sit here and listen listen to people all day long

all week long

For once perhaps I would like to do the talking.....

And the peace and quiet of the morning is gone....

Long gone........

What You Do Not Give, Sir

Working working working paying dues in so many respects

karma

you have to earn it

karma

you're in the midst of it

and just when you get something good

it appears it is not the end

other obstacles present in your path en-route to where you begin

Is it so wrong that I love you? so wrong that I desire such things 

which are just too hard for you to give up

unless I take it from within

Is it wrong to desire balance?

Sometimes it feels like such a sin....

This journey we've embarked on so close to my soul

This journey we've started together in between days, so cold

And at the end of my days you are there

although I cry all day because of love for you sometimes I fear and dread

Your scent invokes passion, a lust I cannot control 

with tears in my eyes I leave your side

this you will never know

and everyday my heart grows fonder

it scares me deep within

for I already know to get what I want I have to walk strong in this here skin

But with so much time to think, girl, the lust and passion turns to an obsession

Of what you do not give sir, unless I take it which, perhaps, is what you wish

Everyday you remind me of what an angel you are 

Creating together a force

that takes years and time which are arbitrary

if you really consider the source

And you've taught me of all the things over years I have collected

in my heart and in my mind that now must be rejected

for if we hang on to such material, expectations become blockades

the struggle will be greater, while mankind dies with age

I'm trying to be stronger because what I believe is true

And I believe in what we're doing,

Sir, I believe in you

I am trying not to obsess on the energy in my core

And instead I'm trying to channel the words like a wordsmith or a whore

Treating my body like a temple and my mind that is attached

Treating our Being like a fortress ready for attack

For what you do not give sir

I will continue to take

and for what you do not take sir

I will for you make

I LIVE IN THE AIR

I am a traveling person that does not have a fixed home nor abode. I will roam where ever I please. You may call me a vagabond, nomad, vagrant, or gypsy.

My soul has a fleeting heart and no real home: THE WORLD IS MY HOME. Don't be fooled by the color, texture and features of my face, skin, hair. Don't be fooled by my clothing. I am a child of the WORLD.

I am not an Ethnicity, that which you may want me to be, that which bounds me, limited out to the sea. Although I am proud of my heritage, I am also wild crazy and free.

I am not an IDENTITY. THAT WHICH YOU WANT ME TO BE. I AM SIMPLY ME.

I AM A CHILD of the world. I am neither WOMAN, MAN nor ANIMAL. I DO NOT BREED.

I do not belong to a city, state, country, but rather to the WILD. LIMITLESS. BREEZE.
I do not follow a doctrine or sacrament. I am not of organized religion, culture or tradition.

I LIVE IN THE AIR. LIKE A BIRD, PLANE or TRAIN.
I WILL FLY....
I CAN FLY....
I WILL FLY....

It Seems Like it's Me

You don't like anything at all... not even yourself
some call it insecurity, and my psychobabble friend would call it
low ego strength

I've been trying to be nice for many years it seems
but you still hate and perpetuate the distaste
distrust for yourself and in between

and it seems like its at me you're always pointing the finger
and you make it seem so crystal clear
you make it so it seems like it's me

And years and years of studying Psychology it would seem
that I would have a clue and stop the ass for you I'm kissing
for trying to make you happy, comfortable and safe
when all you do is continue to hate.

And, I am not ok with it at all.
All you people and the people who you hate, and you act like you hate me
have nothing nice to say, look away, dis dis dis or avoid avoid away
I know it can't be me, because I'm really nice most of the time
I know it can't be me because I go out of my way for you all the time
to say nice things to you
and
recognize you

I know it's deep within you and has to be inside you
some fear you harbor about me,
because you really hate yourself
and you are dishonest about it to your face
though your hate runs so deep
Can't you see it's you, not me?
you do it so well
You make it seem like it's me.

In turn, I do these things to test you
I am now admitting to myself, go the extra mile for you
Putting myself out on this shelf
One last gesture of kindness to see if you will take
the bone I throw out to you and if you'll respond in jest
but when all I get is silence or solemn words with no expression
I know I know it right there and then
I have done nothing wrong than try to say "Hey, you are my friend."

But you'd rather spit in my face, and have nothing nice to say
throw my friendship away
what choice do I have
than to simply walk away
I don't need to be treated that way

My friend says it's better to feel sorry for you than hurt or shed any tears
For it's really you who are suffering when you spread your diseased wings
It's hard to feel your pain when you point the finger
make me feel so little, spreading your inner torture
especially when I have tried to be nothing but your friend.