The Idiocracy of Idiosyncrasy!

Vegans doing Coke, heroine, meth, 
It's a joke, 
There are things that just don't make sense out there, 
Baroque idiosyncrasies, 
Complete with lifestyle inconsistencies, 
It just doesn't make sense to me.

But whenever was it our place, 
Theirs, yours or mine, 
To decipher the reality of others, 
And make a judgement of them as a passerby.

It's as if we act as the incomprehensible divine, 
Throwing out line after line after line, 
It never being reciprocated, 
Because of the accusations being acclimated with sarcastic domination, 
Our minds climaxed and dilated,
I feel the rush of the feverish brush of a hush upon us, 
Sweeping by, 
Try and try, 
It's every 12 hours when the sun melts the sky, 
And the oblivion of the blurry night runs the lights of towers extra high...

Dear Maslow, I respect that safety is a necessity to basic human survival and stability, 
But I still contend that nothing besides that is needed, no sir, no how, no not ever, 
I'll ask you once more before I head out on this frivolous endeavor, 
Who are we kidding, isn't it all just an illusion we've been vying for, conditioned to move forward toward? 
If you can't change the world, what are you fighting for? 
Biding your time to keep you safe of the boring rhyme, 
I'm not fighting for anything, 
I'm maintaining an ending, 
A peaceful one of my place to erase tyrannical tongue-twisters of which are shed upon us with such ease and grace, 
I'm not following suit to the systematic bow-ties and penny-lofer dress-up boots, 
Black is not my suit's color, 
I'm not a suitor to the ones who act in judgement and not as my sister or brother,
Instead I'll sit here let my light-stricken glass-attire shine my colors over and over, 
(Allowing my transparency to exist, leading to colorful blissfulness),
Fearlessness without ignorance, 
Substance without gimmicks, 
Individuality without personal tyranny, and an actualized personality, 
You can run your life with love and serenity, 
Acceptance and tranquility, 
If at the end of the day you say...

I'm not here to judge, 
I'm here to love.



-Stefan 

Working for a better America

Working for a better America,
Freeing the world from it's hysteria...

Hope-filled happiness can only be attained when you learn and listen in surround-sound,
An HD world-vision, high up off the ground,

Keeping us free from having the propensity to be free-spirited with vanity, perpetuated by mental instability, and obstructing forms of insanity,

Nothing but you and me,
I'm searching for a metaphor that supposedly belongs here, but has no room to breathe,
I look forward to it being cultivated by our heavy-hung dry-mouths being quenched by the raining knowledge, cascading down from the ethereal sky,
Transcending the great communication and seemingly mountainous continental mankind divide,
Among my,
Among you,
We do the best we can,
We try.

Engulfed in a place where we need money to pervade peace,
Entranced in a world where necessity is seemingly at ease,
Convenience, our weapon to appease,
It's guise, a veneer,
Telling me to steer clear,
But don't you lay down and create for yourself, my dear?

I guess I never thought that the dark holes in our eyes could allude to such bright-wide realities beneath the solid divide,

A divide so thick, it keeps us a part like polar ice caps from the world's furnace at large,
But that doesn't exist to some,
So, I'll use a metaphor that resonates with everyone,

Love isn't a battlefield, unless you make it one,
Ms. Benetar, I want to love everyone,
So shall you shun me if I fill my field with land-mines,
Because it's a shine on a whimpering cold day's time before I let this one encompass me and get by,

Blindness is bliss in it's simple abyss, amiss from the great white pearl of peril,
But we can't be fretful, and barrel down the road of atrocity,
Until we mask ourselves with illuminating devices made of money and reality,

There's a truth that exists,
Find it in the blackest hole,
Or deepest abyss,
And when the world's weeds, wreaths, and treading paths, small incantations of breath, pieces of buildings, and entire staff coming tumbling down,

This obstacle will be no match for even the greatest of town nor chef,
The greatest of what's left,
The greatest of breathe,
The greatest of test,

Working for a better America,
Freeing worlds of hysteria,
If it means bludgeon,
If it means perjure,
If it means death.

-Stefan

FEAR IS NOT AN OPTION!

For one thing, there's nothing left to desire,
Your words are left to retire,
Like sails in weak winds approaching the shores of
Babylon upon,
The sun's demise as it sets throughout our minds, and
exudes out our eyes...

I saw truth,
I saw relevance to our formidable cries for help
within our youth,
Nothing ends for it's all continual,
The continuity becomes, one can only hope, seminole,
Making an ongoing, everlasting impact on masses,
Through walls of pain,
Seas of sorrow,
Plains of Positivity,
On into the fields of tomorrow.

Fear is not an Option!
The loud voice struck out,
Amongst the boisterous noise of the town's young girls
and boys.
And every body stopped...
Listening in,
Opening up their cages within,
To be glistened by the words fluttering straight to
their hearts, which were capturing nothing other than
the heaviest of grins,

FEAR IS NOT AN OPTION!

The volume intensified,
Amplitude immensely pried open their ears to create
clarity amongst the conundrum.
This crazy cacophony must be silenced at once!
But this form of censorship wouldn't go unnoticed,
For the voice just became augmented with greater vigor
and number to transport us!
Transport but where?
Nowhere else than right there, where we were,
Because it's neither movement nor fleeing away that
will solve all our cares,
We must deal with that of our fears, head on,
Banging loudly upon life's vast drum,
As we trickle a tear...of silence of sheer care...

FEAR IS NOT AN OPTION!!

Rang through the whole city, this year...

The collective that conjured underneath that
mysterious loud voice that final day in the previous
year,
Knew all along that the big voice of hope,
Creating choice and change, and the ability for that
town to strangely rearrange thee...was always near...

Never let up! And fear facing the true essence of your
terrorizing cheer,
No matter how far a cry from the wolf's tear and eye,
You'll never escape the wandering well of the hideous
smile,
Until you muster up the courage to say,
"Who are you? How Are you?" and..."Would you like to
stay a while?"

And then the whole congregation and town will stand
upon this white sail,
Clasping hands so tight for this occasion quite right,

And hail, "Fear is not an Option!"
For they've not only gotten to know their whole nine
yards,
Rather, they went the extra mile,
And came out with a smile...

Tomorrow's Warm Embrace

First off...I really dig your imagination.

I’m a rabbit,
Gliding gleefully through the confines of my grassy green and carrot-altered reality!
I love Hippity-Hoppin’ my way through the great, gargantuan garden of life,
Full of endless possibilities,
Tomatoey tribulations,
And rad radishes of ruminations!

Life is quite the hop, skip, and jump for me, baby, you see,
Catch me if you can,
And no matter my age,
I’ll always rock the jackalope wild or the house-cage,
Being young at heart,
Getting a hell of a speedy start,
My life’s a masterpiece,
Even if my body language is my method of speach,
Despite all obstacles,
I’ve come to be a healer, a warmer of reach...

Don’t stare at me, you’re givin’ me the ironic chills...

I might just get hungry enough to eat the greens off them dollar bills.

Peace.

-Stefan

What does it all mean?

What does it all mean?

Listen, there are sometimes, fun times, but mostly sunshines, I’ve spelled out all the people’s names in my past rhymes, but I’m done, the machines on empty, memory almost full like Sir Paul McCartney, and I can’t see past this red urgency, the sudden state of manufactured emergency, if we live are we alive, or does it all come down to being defined by how we die?

I’ve been writing a lot lately. A time of enlightenment?

-Stefan

 

There are women on this earth!

There are women on this earth! I’m working on a mesmerizing, time-machine-gun polish,  With every thing put away in its right place,  I can see your stripped face,  As I grapple with antiquated existence,  Societal, mass-filled blissfulness in ignorance,  My mind’s resistance,  my mind resist’s this,  Pressure,  Flesh,  Her, Reassure,  Your timing is impeccable, but the memories you make aren’t so much,  Instead so fake, sir... Call me incredible,  The edible, shedable, tear,  I stand-alone,  Silence is crisp and sheer,  With or Without a bed, in that head, you feel the cold fear,  Dripping icicles of sweat,  Permeating the air before we met,  I felt that I knew you best,  Before I knew you like I knew the rest.  Forget about it, dear... And then our eyes, they met at the finish line of our superimposed mind... -Stefan

BREATHE LIFE!

Falling Light...
Shines bright upon you on this night, 
It’s forever with you, 
In it’s effervescent, and eternal might, 
forgoining social, political, lifestyle constructs and limititation, 
having none of such spite for you or your natural, or even preferred inclination. 

This undying light finds you in every angle of life, 
Waiting, breathing existence and experience into the crevice of every corner, 
With great vigor, 
Whether that be of great gorges of gorgeousness, or the slums of strife.

BREATH LIFE! 

It says, in an oddly personifiable sight, 
And baffled by its confounding, persistent fight to shine through with this bright, 
You fall fast asleep knowing, 
Somehow someone somewhere with you, 
Will be safe tonight. 

Make today awesome, eh?

-Stefan 
P.S. This was inspired by the Brian Eno song I just put on my profile. Please check it out. :)