April Tibet:

Moving with Ninja speed.
Taking on my enemies a thousand at a time.
With stealth,
Skill,
Power,
and speed.

You'll never it seeing coming.
The move that ends all life.
Look now,
Before you know it all will be gone.
Your life,
The life of all.

A pool of essence.
The strangers living within the wood.
I cannot see through the mist.
A springtime in the well.
I want to sing to a Veldt.

Triple Threat:

So May is coming. I will take some requests to see what direction this BLOG should/could/will take. Let me know! I've already gotten a suggestion to comment and record any travels I may take. So let's see your ideas.

April Sweat:

Temperatures rise.
So does my body,
Each day.

On some days,
I rise later.
Finding the sun to be gone.

As if a gnome has come,
And gone.
My gardens will need tending.

Can you tend?
Can you mend?
If not, I will have to bend.

Stranger things have occurred,
And I no doubt have been faced with these oddities.
Alas, it is as it is.

I pray that the pox does not come.
Will we be able to repair and survive?
Is survival just living, or living as if there is no tomorrow?

Let's live for now,
And look for tomorrow.
In a search that is bound to us.

I will Quest to find my own dodge.
A Dodge that could be completed if undertaking a simple quest.
Will "London Calling" be the final undoing?

Only if we clash.
Otherwise an adventure to our final destination:
Amsterdam, party ahoy!

April Debt:

? I thought I posted on Tuesday?
It was as a Debt.

A question in  fragrance,
A belief in inivincibility.

We move every moment,
Towards the finish line.

Now I have missed two,
Gah, I find myself falling behind.

So far it goes,
Everyday we move.

Moving up and down,
To the left and to the right.

I sing a praise to you!

April Fret:

A year ago,
I rose with the sun.
Looking out was a vast ocean,
Surrounding,
Me and all my belongings.

It is hard to imagine,
That only a year ago.
Was a time of great uncertainty,
And confusion.
It was the future.

Yet I have come back in time,
Only to find, a sense of longing,
And desire.
A desire to return to the future,
And see.

A sight that is beyond my knowing.
In a time and place,
That can never be.
A place of forgotten dreams,
And peace.

It would seem that I am,
But at the mercy of the enigma.
A traveller trapped within a never ending cycle,
Of circles.
Can it be, that I am free?

April Vet:

What is perfection?
Is it something attainable?
Would it come in a jar?
How could you measure it?
What would be your constant?
How would you know it?
Is this perfection?
Is that?
The question moves to be amicable, while being unattainable.
The mind holds the key, and it is within that we must seek:
The answer to the riddle, or any riddle.
We shall see into the depths and many realms of the Universe.
Coming to the brink, and back again.
With wild storms, gaseous clouds, and celestial bodies,
That is what awaits us.
Simply to meet you.

April Set:

Two weeks,
I spray for the coming storm.
Three weeks,
I launch into a ominous tirade.
Four weeks,
I might bring myself some tea.
Five weeks,
I gain traction into some sight.
Six weeks,
I dance my way through the night.
Seven weeks,
I plant a garden full of life.
Eight weeks,
I work, over and again.
Nine weeks,
I begin again, fresh and new.
No weeks.

April Wet:

The definition, that is what we all seek.
A title to confirm, comfort, and realize.
There is a mass extinction, a digging grave.
Climate chaos is mining away,
So we find a confusing calamity in a Warming.
This is a reverse of speech,
To see colder weather,
Darker weather,
When it's supposed to be, Warm.

So back to the title,
The definition of the hand.
So why do we seek, this message,
A confusing strand of consciousness.
So why,
Do we need a confirmation?
When you have all that you need.
"Everything is as it is supposed to be,
Everything, and everyone is perfect just as it is."

April Let:

I missed a day.
It seems improbable,
But there it is,
staring me in the face.
The day I missed.

Guess what?
I've missed a lot of days.
It's not something I'm proud of,
But it is, the reality of the situation.

I speak in truths and invaluable messages.
Each one growing longer,
Larger than the last.
It's not something I can help,
But it is something that I do not lie on.

This is what I lie on.
The comfort of my discomfort.
I will tell you now, in a plain truth.
A hidden message among the meaning.

We shall go forward and seek to claim ourselves.
I will not,
Can not,
Pry into what it is meant to be, or not to be.
So, I will not question you further.

A dog biscuit, indeed.

April Net:

Where is the line drawn?
Between nature and artifact,
between natural and artificial.
Can Man truly create something that is not of nature.

This line can be made.
This line can be imagined.
Either way it is still a line.
A point that seems to have no end.

But there is an End.
Because there is always an End.
And it will be found.
However, we may not be around.

So back to the matter,
Of the matter,
Is it possible for Man to create the artifact?
Does it really matter?

It would seem that the human Animal,
Has removed itself from Nature,
And strives to create the Artifact.
Yet we come full circle.

To make a distinction that Man is one or the other,
Ignores a larger issue.
By homogenizing the Nature to fit our desires,
We create a World desensitized to its own Nature.

Nature then compensates and tries to balance the equation.
The Artifact is the ignorance of the Nature.
Ignoring the problem at hand.
Live with Nature, ignore the Artifact.

It is late and the hour is almost at hand.
We strive to save the World,
But we're striving to save Ourselves.
The equation will balance, in one way or another.

April Pet:

(Probably terrible, but for Anni ka-chan and Phillip-kun) 

"Um mich am Deutsch-Vergnügen zu vergüngen."
Ich fordere den greifvögeln zu euch und möchte nur für den Erfolg. Es könnte sein, daß unsere Träume sind vergessen in prime Fragen, aber es wäre unsere Stärke, uns motiviert.

ICH weinet für den Erfolg von uns. Um zu beten, die eine goldene Zeit vor uns sehen konnte, aber wäre es gesehen. Ich finde, daß ein Gebet zu dem jetzt und künftig ist das beste.

Für sie ist eine Zeit für uns alle. Zum Aufruf zusammen einen Moment der Einheit. Unsere globalen Gemeinschaft hören und zu warten. Gemeinsam mit uns alle und beginnen Sie zu "Hoffnung", und wissen, ich bin ein donut.

Danke mein Freund, vielen Dank.

Time:

Decided to change the time stamp: so now the dates are mixed up (on the posts), but still on pace for thirty (enjoy).

April Jet:

Cherish, these moments,
Because this impermanence,
(is) Forever lasting.

(So) A bird cherishes,
The song melody of Spring mists,
Blowing wind's, color.

(So) I sit before,
A scientific strong man,
Resembling man.

April Met:

I move with swift justice,
trapped in a breathless vacuum.
Will we see our lives as they pass effortlessly by,
or will it be, all for naught.

It can be known,
the knowledge that we seek.
Forever growing and gaining,
in momentum and size.

I will be blessed to know your name,
for you have blessed me with your own.
I can not repay,
all that you have done, but hope to achieve.

This resolution,
of our nature and demeanor.
So that we can move forward,
as a unit, a union.

Ignore the past,
but enjoy the present.
We wish for the future,
and take praise in our, solace.

私はいい。
今日はとっても元気。
あさって、神。

A(pril) Little Help from my Friends:

I Once Was A Smoker

By: Jordan Whitehead

                                               I don’t have a problem, what do you mean?

A state of pre-contemplation was smothering me.

The first time I tried it I will never forget,

The guys, that girl, I just wanted to fit in.

Dopamine released, relaxation occurred,

This is where smoking cigarettes caused my true identity to become blurred.

Sure I became popular, and yeah I got the girl, but nicotine had me handcuffed, nicotine changed my world.

When the coolness went away and I was ready to quit,

the addiction blazed strong as my very soul felt as if it would split.

I tried to play with a pencil, I tried to chew gum,

Stronger than heroin and cocaine, nicotine I couldn’t stay away from.

I became hostile and impatient, I couldn’t breathe during sport,

I always felt Hungry and depressed, my mind began to scream abort, abort.

So after a short time I tapped out and went back

Even though I already knew smoking was turning my lungs jet black.

Years went by followed by lapse and relapse,

Countless battles brought my will to stop to a complete collapse.

and without that will, the motivation and desire

No one can reach their destination it’s like a car without rims, wheels, and tires.

One day I was just walking down the side of the street

Seen a group of kids, seen a boy, I said, “Hey he looks like me.”

Confusion on his face, pressure from his friends, I’m sure you can guess what he held in his hand.

I rushed to him quickly before he took his first puff

and spilled my smoking stories straight off the cuff

We took a walk and talked, he was a great kid.

Played sports, like to hunt, he just wanted to fit in.

As we approached his house his whole attitude had changed

No pressure, he was laughing, and no confusion remained.

As we said our goodbyes and his face with a big smile being a smoker for a second was almost worth the while

Because with tears in his eyes he said, “thanks for tonight.”

I said, “for what?” and he replied, “Mister, you changed my life.”

Its been a few years since that warm summer night

I’m now in the action stage and my future seems bright.

I lost my freedom when my smoking began

But I continued someone’s freedom by becoming a hero to a young man.

My identity was lost but now it is found

and my freedom returned when I believed without smoking I am unbound.

I once was a smoker.

Not written by me, but I wanted to share it. Good poem.

April Bet:

Speaking with my native tongue:
We build a glorious civilization.
Our nation is the cradle of life.
My heart is proud,
Strong,
And filled with spirit.

The universe spins,
A swirling diamond sky.
The land spans,
Over mountain and expansive veldts.
The wood produces,
Lush,
Exotic,
Living unions.
The water glimmers,
Hiding mysterious depths.

This insidious disease creeps, draping the land, the forests, and the water,
In an invisible darkness.
It comes in many forms, and has many names.
It instills terror,
Hunger,
Death,
Race,
Poverty,
Pestilence,
War,
Rape,
Slavery,
A way of life.

...Yet there is a ray.
A blessing in disguise.
Under this yoke,
Of depression. Oppression.
The spirit strives.
The body yearns.
And our union will endure and blossom again.

Sponsors:

My little brother is doing a "raise money for my school" activity, please take a moment to look at the drive: Watch his Progress!

Pretty kewl prizes. This about the best I can do to support him, and I love him dearly. Thanks.

April:

Struggle stands,
So fluid,
Brought to the point.
With muscle sinew,
And tendons smooth.

My perspiration dripping,
Staining each breath.
A false sense of hope.
That I hope, beyond hope,
To move beyond these boundaries.
This constraint of my mind,
And restriction of our soul.
That it would come to this,
You and I.
May it be that,
 A heaven is our guide.

April Cowers:

A little word play, short and sweet:

A trench, frozen ice.
Crevasse, dizzying mountain.
A pulse. Is it life?

April Towers:

The image is self confessed.
The image is self obsessed.
The image is self contained.
The image is self esteem.

We live in our world.
Struggling to get by our caveats.
By the passes of our peers.
We maintain within our feats.
Only by stretching can we reach our dears.

Humor aside.
It goes to show that this struggle,
Is not in vain.
From sun-up to sun-down I see,
A constant fight.

No more of this fight.
There is only success in my contribution.
No more of this plight.
There is only congratulations in this attribution.

I say we will win,
It is a win that is felt,
But is not winning.

April Powers:

I spread the wings.
I'm not sure how far, we will fly.
You must understand that I will fly.
No matter how far.

It can only be a matter of time.
Before you share.
A bite to eat.
Strangely and decisively.

This morsel of life.

Concern

Finally copyrighted something I should have done so back in 2007.

Yeah. It's a story..

April Flowers:

A Toilet:

I cannot fathom a rhyme or reason
to this frozen and unfeeling
monsoon of pressure and depth.
Eroding away my sense of self,
replacing it with needles.
   
Yet,
I am able to hear
a bubble and gargle.
A gasp of breath,
a slosh of displacement.
Slapping wet feet
on hard tile floors.
In a stall near to me.
These bathroom walls are,
so thin.
So clear.
   
Who is it,
that comes for me?
Those jagged nails scratching along the wall.
Is it She,
that has stirred?

I grasp tightly at my chest,
at each creaking rattle.
There are no protective blankets here.
Would they even bother to save me?

I have aroused her hatred?
   
My skin forms droplets of moisture,
rising to meet the bumps in the night.
My breath is shortened,
as her icy grip takes hold.
There are no soft caresses,
Only the touch of Winter.

She, is Hanako-San.
I now know her loneliness.
A goldfish out of its bowl,
I lie,
gasping for life.
Staring out at dirty crevices.
I am embraced by darkness
no longer feeling the cold.
My Fall ends.

April Showers:

A Finger Tap?

A clattering tap,
splattering on the window pane.
On a dark and stormy night.
It is so familiar,
eerie,
calling to me.
With a thunder clap.
   
Is this a messenger of death?
Or simply a carrion for my carcass?
Its black wings waiting to carry me away.
Those glass covered eyes unflinching.
With a cry.

At the top of the hour
a new sound chimes in,
In rhythmic unison,
That comes from within,
A thumping in my chest,
“...someone gently tapping...”

My mind,
back again with a simple rap.
Staring blankly at the page.
No new words arrive,
even with his help
Should I cry “Nevermore”?