She was beautiful 

The way she looked at me, her eyes dazzled like Galileo's, looking towards the stars 

Her smile made even the darkest days Seem bright 

Her Love was like no other, it extended from mind body and soul 

  So why did I leave her? 

She was beautiful

But my eyes did not dazzle when I saw her 

My smile was forced not meant 

I did not love her, I was too young and I took her for granted

Till this day... This is my greatest regret.

1 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out of Aleppo ISIS vigilantes, that all the world should know terror.

2 (and this terror was first made known when George W. was President of the United States.)

3 And all went to escape through the borders, every one with their own families.

4 And Joseph also went up from Bustan, out of the city of Aleppo, into Alexandria, unto the city of Escape, which is called the shortest route to the Mediterranean; (because he was of a mind to get away from terror quickly:)

5 To escape with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

6 And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.

7 And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a raft; because there was no room for them in the boat.

8 And there were in the same world reporters abiding in the field, keeping watch over their twitter accounts by night.

9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

11 For unto you is born this day on the shores of Alexandria a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in his mothers arms.

13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the reporters said one to another, Let us eventually go even unto the Mediterranean, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

16 And they came with delay, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying on the northern shores.

17 And when they had seen it, they discovered they were too late. They made known abroad what happened concerning this child, for he had drowned.

18 And all they that heard it wondering at those things which were told them by the media.

19 But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

20 And the reporters returned, glorifying and praising the Breaking News Stories that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

21 And when eight days were accomplished after the death of the child, his name was called JESUS or AYLAN in terms of he who drowned, and the photo went viral, the world moved on.

Let's be honest:

Life is rough.

A cruel, harsh reality

Where the word

Fair

Doesn't exist.

I feel like

Sometimes

It's not worth it

to go on.

Yet I forget all my qualms

When I see a smile on

Your face.

When the embodiment

Of sincerity

Stands before me

How could I worry

About such worldly things?

Your smile

Your laughter

Your very existence

Are the cures to my woes.

Take a gander.

You got a big ego, kiddo.

Wouldn't be surprised

if that makes it hard in life

to see anything clearly.

"Through a glass, darkly,"

Hah!

This is a shade of everything,

but it's really not so startling.

Considering we're all born to die,

in and between this experience of

climbing up each precipice,

destined only to fall,

and ascend again.

This never really was meant to be

extremely satisfying, in fact,

it never really was 'meant' to be,

truly, anything.

Simply, we seek similarities,

call them 'good' or 'bad',

but these are only distinctions

of much the same thing.

An interpretation, merely.

Call it what you will,

but your dark musings

are just another culling

of the inspiration we're 

all mulling and twirling

between pen and finger.

So don't linger

when you think you're

above the mass,

just another shade and hue

in a creation quite larger, in fact,

than you.

But mere distinctions

cause rifts and shifts

in human connection.

There's the beauty,

there's the worth,

hiding behind false selves and dirt. 

We both see things darkly, sure.

Difference between you and me,

when I drop my pen,

I don't think I dropped an atom bomb,

and I don't reread these words,

thinking I just summoned Jesus

and all the succubi to tempt

the boundaries between realms.

It's just another poem,

and that's the secret:

nothing has true meaning.

But, hush, hush!

Or your ego might blush

in embarrassment at the

chaos it caused in

the havoc of your smarts,

trying to convince yourself

you're worth more than anything

else with a beating heart.

Madness is a kind of sanity.

Indulge before the breaking point,

or risk shattering.

Risk a numb mind, an unfeeling heart,

and that's just to start.

Compulsions to stress and delusion,

wickedly depressing confusion,

lack of communication, denial

and suicidal musings bound

to confound and constrict

happiness within,

to the point of hurting yourself

merely to convince

yourself you are real,

between cycles which spin

and twist and spin and twist and

bite at your soul's infinite,

compel the muse to self-mutilate,

and hate the things it trusted to be

her inspiration's kiss, blissfully transcendent.

Instead, a proclivity to

d e a f n e s s to that which is

beautiful and rich, 

and a propensity for 

b l i n d n e s s to finding the 

panacea meant to cure all this.

Madness, that is.

Happiness in disguise.

Truly fulfilling. Truly ingenious, and oddly wise.

Indulge in this,

from time to time.

A harmless flight

from the chaos of society.

And once you've had your fill,

ease back down, and 

experience the thrill

of laughing at these maniacs

with sad faces and dilapidated lives,

knowing full and well, you are this, 

from time to time.

While you endure precisely the same pain,

but feel no remorse, and no shame;

acting not on your agony,

but the interpretation of its meaning.

Appreciating the contrasting shades,

cavorting amongst the haze,

the dazzling hues of all this.

Madness, that is.

Naked

Stand of trees

Black as cracks

In the universe

Angry

Though we be

Slack as wax

In a gypsy's curse

Clueless

Till Big Sleep

Prone in the back

Of a moving hearse

We fiend & fret

Claw bloody breasts

And never know

This life's a test

A puzzle

Missing pieces

In a game God plays

To reach us - teach us

Till our time

Turns dim...

-DeRicki

I live in a world which doesn't exist.

All my thoughts lie bleeding bliss--

praying, pleading to be heard

yet how to express with only words?

They seem so cold and insincere

as long before me they were here.

Sure, I arrange and conjugate them,

rearrange and punctuate them

A sentence

A phrase

A succession of days

A meaningless haze

For all I am is adjective

and all I do is verb

and all the thoughts inside my head are

someone else's words

As a child I imagined I'd grow up to be a woman

Instead I grew up to be apologetic.

A child sorry for eating cookies in my imagination

Absorbing crimes against the world I didn't commit but being a female means I've sinned regardless of my knowing

I've apologized for the past, present and future

For having brown eyes

For being black

For being female

For being apologetic all the damn time

One day I want to grow up properly

Become a women

Unapologetic

Walks through her day with true acquired confidence

Only uttering her words of freedom

"I ain't sorry"

And "You're welcome"

I've only met a few real women in my life

My Mom

My professor

My friend

My enemy

And the ghost of my potential

She haunts me

She stares at me waiting for the day I grow up and allow her to fully possess me

Lift me

Pull me from this well of sorry I've fallen in

Sorry for splashing

Apologies are thicker than water

Immersed neck deep

Swamped

Drifting around

Until I finally grow the fuck up

Until I ain't sorry