Change it for me

Just realized how to back up one of my arguments in my poetry.  I preferably love to add a capitalization to words throughout my poem, grammatically making it wrong but I can never change them because they just feel right(?) and the answer is I use them to as my off way of CAPITALIZING full words, it's full of subtlety because I don't want that level of intensity, it's like an exclamation point in the middle of the sentence because sometimes the emphasis to your sentence or though is supposed to catch your intention instead of the end, it puts a weird strain on the relationship of a sentence.  Change our language of writing?!

(I Hope You Like This Song)

Just wrote it down and it seemed so fake
I need to stay away from that
Things do change and think it is okay to do so
But this is stupid
Trying too hard not to try.

So I’ll just talk…
There is a girl involved
A best friend of a best friend
What does that mean?
I don’t know but I find myself smiling more often then not.

Just read what I wrote
Scattered thoughts from a scattered brain
Still confused, but in hope the noise I add will cover this up
“I don’t know how to write.”

Nothing means anything unless you saw this page
These are scribbles of expression and I want you to know this is not a great idea
I just enjoy the act of thinking by myself and getting nothing out.

From the Sand to the Blood

From the Sand to the Blood

    The sand crumbled by the weight of the camel’s toes, digging for some sort of friction in this sandy paradise known as the Thal Desert.   The sun and its beautiful radiance, fills the sky with a bright, majestic light  that lights up the sand to shimmer and reveal our hidden path.  I tightly grip the tethered rope that feels like it is on the brink of tearing that connects me to my camel, helping it walk along the fragility of the sand, always watching one footstep ahead for a sign of danger that could lead to the loss of my superior.  Without the camel, us peddlers would be out of job so we must respect and honor our co-workers.  In this part of Pakistan, on the eastern border between us and Afghanistan, the sand is very separated leading this travel very dangerous for such enormous animals. 

The Foot

The Foot

    Greg gets home from a late night at his shop.  He realized when we was their that he needed some sleep but he was ankle deep in polishing and scrubbing that he tediously did at his job.  So Greg Ditch, Shoe scrubber entrepreneur, brought some of his work home to himself, especially the long-term acquaintance of Alfred E Whittacre.

Discovery

If I woke up tomorrow this very instant
how would i know it is me?
is isn’t their anything to tell me any different

maybe something will just awake in side these eyes
hold me down, succumb the threshold I will eventually submit
this new life, much harder than a dream, full of a sense of self-esteem

Consequentially,

you can’t miss something until you had it
all this, mixed with blind faith and a slight chance of dumb luck
It’s constantly in motion, slow and fast, love is just an apparatus

I am no sadist, revolving at each other like gravities void of planets
each day, each moment feels like a sabbath
Until the last day, the friend will turn into a caveman’s mammoth

Longevity

Longevity

When the tides met through the smallest of irises
and the waves joined holding the mantle
rises above us all, persisting in biases

And the force pushed us all, tumbling when we stand still
resisting the urges to crumble remaining evasive
dodging the inertia until the next one makes the land fill

All of us holding onto their persuasion
Till our meaning which is this tiny thread of hope
remains the only thing left to be creative

Broken Silence

http://24flinching.com/word/featured/drowning-beautiful/

Even after my life crumbles
and deteriorates from this constant weight
I’ll know, always being preserved
Cemented to perfection
Underneath the future’s generation
Under their feet
At all times of the day
Watching through the molecules
Staring at those sunken faces
That describe our very own but,

Life might cease tomorrow
I’ll never know
But my face will always be seen
Next to the Next
Surrounded by the Breath-less others
Sunken, part of another ecosystem
Speechless but always surrounded
After I Die
After We Die
Even when living is hardly being alive
some one
some thing
will still be striving off
what I helped preserve

And finally, Mankind
When we are stuck in our own motions
Will finally be giving before we take
Every Thing for granted
And Nature will reap from us
What we have always absorbed from it
And this balance, that we all are apart of
from the fungus, to the plants,
to the herbivores and carnivores,
even a virus like us
The scale will finally be equal
and then we can die
as neutrals