Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The horror of reality cannot be what takes your life from you.
Can what has not happened to you,
be a reality not known?
Should your life be full of;
No Nightmares, No Shame, No Guilt, No Guile:
Would you know Compassion or even "Free Will?"
Would you know,
How to be kind?
How to be real?
How to be observant?
True? Honorable? or even Moral?
Could your lack of experience,
be your own undoing?
Your bleed, so to speak?
Do you only relate to what you believe yourself to know as pain or discomfort?
If you stubbed your toe,
and I broke my back:
Would you assume you knew the amount of pain I would be in?
Basing it on the worst thing that has ever happened to you?
"Stubbing your toe?"
Could this entire theory be explained away as easily as that?
Are you or could you be that gullible?
Or is it stupid?
Some people can never heal from the words have been said to them.
Words spoken at such a point of influence (Infancy/Childhood) in ones life,
Words so powerfully said at such a point in time, a crucial point, could make a difference,
to that particular individual.
They would never heal because they would never be believed.
You cannot explain what others cannot comprehend,
based on the "Stub your toe," theory.
Can Human Beings only understand by what has happened to them personally?
Where does retrospect fit in?
Should you chose such ignorance, would you know that when you said,
"Just get over it,"
you sound idiotic? And in reality,
you are in essence announcing your I.Q. or lack thereof?
Is this learned? or is it ingrained into your D.N.A.?
If not had in infancy, can you ever know it as if it may be a natural affection?
Or, are you only stuck with the definition of such?
Can you read this short, easy blurb,
and have natural understanding?
Or, must you look up the definitions of these words,
that I have used here to know that you have no idea of there meaning?
Do you assume that you can comprehend this?
Without the use of or the faculty of thought?
Because just the word assume should let you know this one last thing.
"The joke is on you, not me."
I am a Riddler, not a poet, not a genius,
nor a savant or maybe worse a Genius Savant.
I am only righting the wrongs in my life!
You might try writing the ones in yours.
To speak of what you know,
the casual will show,
a gentle wave good night,
to wake up what is right.
A play for those in places,
of cities and the like,
will only ration likelihood,
of ventures in the night.
A treasure what's not hidden,
in plain site for all to see.
Will cause the point that's driven,
for just the you in me.
Sex can be our ringer,
the phone is always near.
To call the sexual stinger,
that delivers more than dreamt.
For in the moment of the thought,
I must not find you running.
Simply 'cause you say a lot,
can be your loss, dear friend.
I ponder the future dreams,
if time will tell the truth.
Do Men of desire come wanting,
to watch or see what to do?
Some of us are voyeurs,
some they speak in words,
receive the education,
a diploma, it does work!
An appetite is filling,
with dungeons and the lairs.
Do you have what's telling,
to bank us 'round in there?
It does not matter what it costs,
for luxury is best.
When beauty of the mind,
lends to lusting of this kind.
The ones that are so different,
and bored with all new ways.
Interest is not lacking,
for even this one stays.
To keep our selves free from sin,
to never argue from within.
Our deepest, darkest wish to be,
with ones like you, I see.!! My interest, it is growing...
So, on I march and think of tarts,
to see myself again.
I only know what when I'm shows,
an interest in what's been.
To do a star,
as you should like,
a heavy drink or two.
I only know what I read,
and all I read is you.
Tonight I feel like it's surreal,
to imagine a note in tune.
For sexual pleasure comes with measure,
and I'm waiting for only you, but I am sure that at least one other may be due.
Does this interest You?
Does this interest You?