Struggle in Finding Myself …
I keep searching and flirting with that version of me,
that person, the grind, a thermos of caffeine.
In the palms of my hands these rings full of keys,
a research perspective from the depths of hades.
I search for reprieve, and my need to succeed,
in this burning conceit, resurfaced with speed,
with my circuits still burning like a burden I keep.
God’s plan I reworked it the mountains were steep
Through the foothills I creeped as the mind ever sweeps
My facades I presented were tarnished and cheap
In circles from me is this penance so deep,
And rebirth, still a treasure, like a goal I can’t reach.
This ride, bittersweet, as I’m still incomplete
I’m under this banner, “Only God Judges Me.”
Don’t mock me, my chief, at least I cry when I sleep
The wells still run deep with emotions I reap.
Yet still I’m bereaved like a furnace, No heat,
like a nervous tick with no purpose
Like a cervix won’t bleed, and the baby is breached
With my heart on my sleeve and these tears on the surface
It’s proof that I’m worth it in this circus with curtains
of the life that I preach, and ideals that I keep.
Is the oven replete? Where I cook all these verses,
with the burners on high and the flames as the heart
in the words of this furnace, and they are my purpose.
I’m nervous this person I’m working is hurting
Uncertain the garden is free from the serpents
And the furnace won’t reach me in time to resurface
My time now to grieve ‘til I summon my versions
And give them that purpose to fight like a nerve would
When attacked by a virus overcome it and purge it
To split the disturbance like helix sequence to nurses
Precise like a surgeon; more magic than merlin,
So I can cut to the chase, or chant words like a sermon
Can I breathe this emergence, where this world is imperfect,
And imperfect is perfect, and perfect is worth it.
But these demons I flirt with, they make me so nervous
act up at the wrong time, like a Walking Dead carcass
Grunting and wordless, and their company worthless
But to keep them around that would be a disservice.
Trouble is as this worsens with their coming emergence
I’m being overthrown like the Jews with the Germans
But is certainty certain, and earnest to surfeit?
So because this shit worsens do I need to be certain,
When the curtains surmount us, where defeat was a preface,
Surprisingly upbeat, in defeat I am breathless
When I sold all my heartbeats, where the devil in hell lives
his pen in his presence and he name signed in cursive.
A menace to essence, my existence was selfish
My words had no premise, when I stood on that terrace
and recited my penance, said I had to be better,
have my message strike terror and to have better substance,
Mental temples unfettered with lyric endeavors
The pencil now sharpened the lead fresh as ever
Now to bring all my muses and versions together
The versions the persons I left here untethered.
A glutton for somethings like justice or run-ins
dwarf titans for nothing no troubles discussing
the sad repercussions how my life was disgusting
I was drinking and drugging and I thought about jumping
How I cried in the corner, how the thought of that sunk in
Now I’m hunting to toughen this outer obstruction
To chisel my functions, to absorb all the punching
But my hands have these bruises like my own self-made Judas
my excuses kept coming and the truth kept corrupting
with demons to stomach I continued to hustle
Forgetting my muscle how the memory stumbled
And the struggle was doubled, sanity’s what I covet
On that day with the trumpets, when the angels as puppets
Rain the ether in buckets, when the stars fall and plummet
To the room I am summoned, stand alone as a compass
Redirecting the humbles, with my soul in the rumble,
Reflecting rebuttals; stood tall in the rubble,
I’m rebuilding the puzzle, once again to the struggle
since life is a struggle and how you rebuttal
the struggle becomes you.
My whole goal as this poet, put your mind into orbit
Share the gift as I know it; put some joy to your organs
The sky limits, we know it, in this world’s moral chorus
Though my wits need to sharpen my thoughts need to harden,
The pen hits will hearten in this “How Will I Grow” flick,
I take pardon for the tricks and the low kicks
Never saw them as a problem but as I grow quick
I notice, while starving without option
I darkened, no bargains where I march in
Put them first, more important
As the margin for my profit target is shortened
The misfortunes of fortunes enormous
Meet mothers with kids on milk cartons
I hardened and forfeited to distortion’s importance.
I marched in the garden of serpents
And flirt with the work in the core of my shirt
While being a servant of fervencies’ learning
when I hit dirt, my feet off and their running
as I bleed and exert with the feelings
of millions of people who are feeling the hurt.
So I heard as this permanence worsens
And I interpret these curses as curses
That sooner or later if I continue these verses
That people will feel it, all up in their dermis
And these sermons I continually immerse in
Will serve as a service to furnish your furnace
But you all know where church is
And the fact that you need it when hurting
As a being who’s perfectly perfect
with being a being who’s perfectly imperfect
Just understand one thing, I don’t attack you
Unless you attack me, it’s inertia.