Outside the Complex is published by Vizion Books Copyright © 2015 by Andy Levine Cover design by Andy Levine All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Brief quotes used in reviews are permitted for use. This book was written, printed, and published in the United States of America. This book was first published in 2015.

AN OPEN LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR

I feel my way through this life. It is the only method that makes sense. Tradition has never seemed to resonate with me. I do have great respect for everyone and everything prior to my experiences, I just don’t feel an inherent reverence to such things. History is essential for perspective, but we should define ourselves. Letting others set the standards for our soul invites a hailstorm of square pegs into round holes. There was a time when I didn’t understand that I was failing as an artist. I was blinded by youth, praise, and inexperience. I arrived at a moment where I reviewed all the work I created up until that point and something in me changed. My writing was shallow and flawed. From that point on, the process of constantly breaking through the vanity of a fleeting poet became a lifelong quest. When you are passionate about something, instinct often takes hold and you just know an idea feels right. The title of this book, Outside the Complex, is no exception. I was taking a walk when the phrase just hit me. I was living in a

neighborhood with an informal entrance leading to the street. It was a good day for some exercise and I took a left instead of the right I normally do. I thought, ‘this is a new way to get outside the complex.’ Immediately, those few words became like a tattoo that would help characterize a journey that was in an early stage of creation. The more I thought about it, other meanings came to the surface, further cementing the idea to use that phrase as the title of the my next book. Additionally, the title conveyed another important quality of the work it would contain. My goal is to write with simplicity. This is easily the most important ambition behind expressing an idea throughout the process. A lot of poets write in an overly complicated, vague, or intimate nature. That is fine; it is their style and right as an artist. That’s not me though. I’ve spent years making creative mistakes to try and humbly present notions in a modest style. Often, the original lines within a piece start out dense and twisted. The editing stage is a chance to untangle the threads of a concept. The effort that goes into molding a broad belief into an efficient set of verses tests every fiber of my artistry. At

times, these works may still be difficult to understand, but that is never my intention. In closing, I hope you recognize that this letter and these poems were created with the purpose of enjoyment for whatever audience they find. These are honest words. Anything else would be a waste of a life’s work and the appreciation you may have for all I am as a poet. Thank you. -Andy Levine

OUTSIDE THE COMPLEX P O E T I C A R R A N G E M E N T STRUCTURES TO THE CLIFFS DOUBLE THE DEPTH A SPEED THAT'S UNIQUE FURTHER FROM FLYING ANYTHING YOU SELL FINISH THOSE IDEAS SILENCE BETWEEN NOISE UNREST HIS VOICE FILLS THE ROOM SOUND OF A SCORE CLOUDS LIKE FROZEN EXPLOSIONS FIBERS MAY FADE SYSTEMS FAITH EXPECTATIONS BURN THE CASINO OUR MISTAKES AND THEIR FUTURE UNCIVIL WAR SECOND THOUGHTS CASUALTIES OF THE CURSE AMPLIFY WASTED WISDOM THIRTY-FIVE STORIES

SURVIVAL FIDELITY BLED ADDING THE D A SERIES STILL REMAINS THE REAPPEARING SHOW SHADOWS FALL WITH COURAGE THEY RISE THE IF FACTOR IMMERSION THERAPY SAVIORS AND ARCHITECTS THE PASSAGE SEES LIGHT

For You

TO THE CLIFFS It's early mornings and late nights, it's long hours of sacrifice It's waging a war to stand your ground, it's declaring your case without stirring a sound It's closing your eyes and walking to the cliffs, it's trusting in instincts your senses won't miss It's faith that's established by evidence and events, it's gracefully accepting what a sign represents It's whatever it takes, it's whatever we need, it's why we keep moving, it's why we believe

DOUBLE THE DEPTH Pushed to a point, you'll confess- this footing is temporary at best You're able so you do what you can, whether it's plotted or a detour of plans Motivation is fueled by a breath, despite valleys now double the depth Strength shouldn't matter of forces in your way, just the confidence you can conquer each day This triumph by audacity means legends will rise, in a victory over skeptics and their fever of lies

A SPEED THAT’S UNIQUE When down a narrow hall and rigid path, mobility succumbs to undeniable math Equations decoded reveal pathways of mazes- an approach that's exciting by the questions it raises Structures aren't destructive like a closed mind can be, as lazy thinking dams rivers from reaching the sea The flux of moving onward and then back, are exactly what tired tactics enact In order to proceed without parameters or peak, you need to live at a speed that’s unique

The obvious will crescendo like a concert at its height, sketching diagrams in whispers of motion in flight A certainty is determined to followers of lines; a sad march through a lifetime as checkpoints align

FURTHER FROM FLYING People are a puzzle that stay incomplete, and this is never more clear than with a new one you meet They're sharply sarcastic and fast with a joke, in defense of an agony they emote The selfish show selective compassion, in a curse of perspective that curbs any action The serene exude eternal appeal, as the frantic are guided by a steady hand on the wheel The successful who skate on a mentor's track, shuttle on paths without a need to drift back

Some embrace guarantees to address the unknown, by reducing the odds they'll end up alone Those closed and cut off from arenas abstract, fall further from flying while coils contract

ANYTHING YOU SELL If you want them to buy anything you sell, know what you can do, and do it well To accomplish a goal in near terms or long, you'll need to start fast and then finish strong For gaining esteem without using force, execute bravely while staying the course To advance and succeed for crowns of new measure, have clarity of vision as a shield against pressure And to end a beginning with a finale unmatched, remember that courage is the thread that breaks last

FINISH THOSE IDEAS He swears he’s gonna do it- he’ll finish those ideas, vowing he’ll feel complete at the time when his end nears He chases all that populates the materials on his desk, circling in a cycle that complicates the mess He has intentions for inventions somewhere deep within, or that is what he claims so adventures can begin A fascination to forge mountains stole his view of what’s below, too blind to see the ocean, too high to see it snow

He barters with his artistry to extract what may be there, robbing his own vaults for riches he can bear Driven as he veers and plunges without pause, not yielding as he’s yelling at his talent and his flaws He’ll say he knows what he’s doing, and fully in control, when really he is falling, as his weakness eats him whole The descent he takes is brutal seeing the faces that he hurt, sailing through the clouds of concepts he couldn’t convert

Then right before he crashes he wakes from where he went- an abyss of possibilities he prays more days are spent

SILENCE BETWEEN NOISE There's a room with everything you've ever seen; a sum of details from subtle to extreme This is captured by stars high in space, as they radiate where astronomers always chase And while suits are paid to shape our choice, it's the brilliant who craft silence between noise With skill or conversion flashes breach static, where dealers of spirit through innovation keep at it

A moving intermission is the mission for these few, as they sow noble seeds blooming blossoms in you Advocates of notions arch oceans to inspire, with action or inflection in a spectacle to admire They market what they stock to trend vital in your heart, with an index that allows a prized silence inside art

UNREST There's a mind in a state of unrest, wrestling with the gifts it's been blessed Stagnant on the border of two sides- amid appetite, logic, and compromise The boundaries are blurred for failure and success, trapped in a limbo by buttons not pressed Scaling sleek sides panics all that pertain, in understanding the chance they'll be no acclaim

This is what fumes in the belly of an ego, drowning the frail in the surge as the sea goes And like a body of water on coasts of the flesh, a calm cannot soothe these waves of unrest

HIS VOICE FILLS THE ROOM Like instinct it happens, the quiet is poignant, attention sharpens as his voice fills the room It is delicate but intense, filling cavities with stares, where pleased eardrums recognize a truth There's significance by intimate hints, proving a box is not bound by dimensions While listeners absorb devotion discharged, he's relentless with reverence and mercy

Then a spare blaring pause these echoes cause reveals this was his plan all along

SOUND OF A SCORE A piano plays in a cathedral elegant as style could sound, its octaves express for a crowd oceans completely surround A guitar strums in a stride, setting the direction and course, fading while others emerge then leading the charge by its force A bass shakes marches off tenor, spawning spikes in the sound of a score, while plates crash in a tempo as vibrations tear apart the core

Drums disseminate from a village civil beyond naive belief, where energy is fiercely released by the pounding rhythm of feet A violin slices with vengeance, in a crosswalk of rampaging hordes, as an echo encircles the city from the pavement out to its shores A saxophone blurs with intention in the gap of consecutive notes, as beacons illuminate a coastline filled with channels of boats

A cello prevails in a vessel carrying the last chord of chance, as the captain maintains morale by steering n a hypnotic trance Electronics beat in succession where procedure seems like a myth, as fusion entertains a jury in a court where no judgments exist A banjo lessens the distance from a porch overlooking it all, where the country air is tainted by combat's hostile call The choir clamors with threats in a havoc narrated up high, as the chorus abruptly erupts with tongues now launched in a cry

A singer breaks through the madness, belting out scales in their range, joining the fireworks behind them in an apex of audible exchange A million maestros wave their two arms begging the flood to rush in, opening the doors of a cathedral, waiting for the piano to begin

CLOUDS IN FROZEN EXPLOSIONS In gliding above you see patterns of such things- bland neighborhoods and the symmetry it brings Crops cross the country like a chess board of seeds, producing for the masses between skylines and weeds Cities are diminished in scope and in noise, until districts are models and cars look like toys There are highways that weave to no end, until you brush them on arrival in descent

You see tides that rage without crashing, far from beaches so they dance everlasting Blue skies compose reflections in oceans, of clouds in frozen explosions From these elevations bursts a light show below, as humanity unites where darkness will flow

FIBERS MAY FADE A passionate youth matures with conviction, and during that span conflict with tradition They used to own tomorrow, not a servant to its will, and though fibers may fade there are desires they fill Limitations don't alter what initiative invites, when they daringly aim at targets in sight Internal markers are etched on a list that's eroding, as a scroll rolls behind a sly smile they're showing As twilight unravels they clutch what lives on, fighting with everything until their stamina is gone

Experience is the key to endure what will come, as savvy spurs habits in journeys begun

FAITH EXPECTATIONS The population depends on networks unknown, where rewards for faith are rarely shown Society's bonds are built between beings, who fail to evolve outside the complex of machines This reliance enables production to carry forth, as integrity is escorted miles off course As we hire these experts to guard our estate, they tilt crooked scales with hollow weight Yet we wish optimistic ideals will hold, that's what’s expected 'cause that's what we were told

We don't ask much- just that promises are kept, and there's no scandals while objectives are met These conflicting principles prevent sanity to enlist, in epic deceptions that by faith still exist

BURN THE CASINO September is a dark month for two districts; Columbia, the financial, and their addictions It was the gleam that amused makers with means, and a glow blinding bundlers of liens The incentive to immerse in forecast and risk, taunts hustlers to develop new tricks We should burn the casino and never rebuild, as the flash and the stacks keep the poker room filled

Take all the dealers, the bosses and their kind, and force a fair hand with an exchange to unwind The games we granted housed rules they all wrote, because we are pawns with soft views as we vote Donkeys, elephants- they're both on the hunt, stalking for stakes in granite jungles we fund On the blocks and banks where legal burglars bust standards, customers line tables as willing fools and bystanders

As black becomes red in deals they can’t afford, numbers are bent to reconfigure the board The vice and the sin stain neighborhoods as a blight, while barons and felons roll the dice every night There's a roar when they hit, and quiet with mistakes, knowing this system is too fixed to break

OUR MISTAKES AND THEIR FUTURE It's the brutal nature of staging multiple wars, against our enemies or by democracy's whores This river of money makes delegates weak, spending most of their tour framing terms they can seek Those “citizens” united join numbers to infect- a cancer in the culture our charter won’t protect As puppets they dance without gravity in their strings, so they tangle too easy on the extremes of two wings They'll state they are here for families and their cause, yet all they do is exploit procedural flaws Those reckless victories lack the humanity we need, and while they drone on the working class bleeds

It's more than the present pathetic idiots affect, when we impair generations with the fools we elect Our mistakes and their future are fused at the tip, braided in a battle by a minority's whip These lapses will reverb in the ashes of collapse, as the latest example of how empires don't last

UNCIVIL WAR Somehow we forgot the beauty of debate, as volumes exploded in a world wide estate There used to be civility, there used to be respect, these days you sew arguments with select dots you connect It's not allowing the details to stunt a great tale, it’s just stating your case to close the sale What happened to disagreeing and leaving it at that, now revenge is the reflex when aggressors combat It's healthy to discuss issues of the day, then listening, not plotting the next statement you’ll say

Believe it or not you won't always be right, and anxiety of that shouldn't prompt you to fight This can stop if we start to act with some grace, so we seek to converse but with manners in place

SECOND THOUGHTS Are we not sick of the armed endangering our streets, distorting the Second behind lobby elites Quotes out of context as the basis for decisions, twist what the framers originally envisioned Lines that are drawn by those tasked with this cause, employ what they must for the authors of laws Their conventions and shows push agendas of violence, while those who could stop them interpret outcry with silence The coldness that lies within a few disillusioned, explodes in a storm when they don't find inclusion

A wrath of the unstable is easier to attain, when an industry’s pockets benefit from their pain Where there's profit, there's failure for the interests of the rest, because as long as there's fear, false militias will invest When did apathy trump empathy for mankind and its splendor, as resentment kills solace we forget to remember In the flashes we care comes overreaction that’s fleeting, as if the only two options are suffocation or breathing Where are we headed without a reversal of this trend, but to a crisis created by the refusal to amend

CASUALTIES OF THE CURSE Imagine you're in a tower on a Tuesday after the turn, and then a moment later the floors beneath you burn Imagine you're a teacher in an unassuming town, when madness slays the future of innocence shot down Imagine you're enjoying a mix of sport and spring, until cowards leave behind an end of virtuous things Imagine you're a hostage under a tyrant and his whim- an exile from the world you can't participate in Imagine you have fear death could come each day, living for beliefs despite the price that you may pay

Imagine you're a citizen amidst drug cartels and hell, numb to all the violence and misery they sell Imagine you're a child too nonexistent to be poor, forgotten by those ignoring genocides across their shore Imagine you have capacity but refuse to feed your roots, while famine and pandemics leech crops the wealthy loot Imagine you are struggling climbing valleys toward respect, but instead of a safety net the rope's tied around your neck Imagine you're unlucky and the subject of a verse, imagine for a moment you were a casualty of this curse

AMPLIFY If you pause for a bit you’re now behind, as sprinters lap joggers a thousand times The importance of speed is savagely rabid, where repeated codes let us express less elaborate Long form is dying in a riot of replies, as birds pursue buzz for mentions and allies The past had cycles sprawled in pages, not rumor infernos that char with its blazes Opinion was poured from the filter of a few, then keys became turnstiles for the novice to blitz through

The burden of truth is obscured on flat screens, where context is bound by what it all means We are directors in a disordered scene, spinning sagas in wild theaters unseen Fresh techniques unleash crumbs for consumption, in binges of data with no sustainable function Louder is the gospel we amplify at will, with transmissions of merit in the spheres they may fill

WASTED WISDOM Shelves contain volumes of advice for the confused, where dust buries treasures of wisdom unused Every question's been asked and answered with flair, as text congests sections like guests at an affair Insight ingests details of theories and results, as authors build monuments for observers it consults It's that curious connection where magic takes place, in the bending odyssey of infinite space But these chronicles should carry some doubt- as they were written by humans with reflections drawn out

Perceived winners shape history vague with their fairness, penning revenge with a brush that is careless With separation and humility ancient words can endure, and while some provide blueprints the rest become lore There's no way to recount every tangle in this world, so we shouldn't rely on tradition unfurled Those brilliantly distinct and ahead of their time, will find endless lovers who’ll covet their wine We’ll marvel at their talent though periods may change, by an emphasis of boldness how language was arranged

The power of these words weighs heavy on us all, whether wisdom is cherished or dissolves as thoughts fall

THIRTY-FIVE STORIES Thirty-five stories with one for each floor, from the vanity of the penthouse, to the immigrants at the door In this thick urban forest the buildings don't shade, they keep cursory soldiers in a status crusade Mobs are dense in this synthesized zoo, glancing while passing, deeming verdicts on you The sections and boroughs flaunt obnoxious their worth, as if blocks were a culture in this lottery of birth The constant construction decays as it grows, and if you ask if it's noticeable, I assure you, it shows

There's a hustle on the grid where venture plays, as signs corral numbness in this overpriced maze The options are plenty in the saturations of sight- a wash of false quality that stays open all night

FIDELITY BLED They'd listen to each other and then music at night, they'd stoke a slow fire and wait patient for the light In moments sincere they'd study and observe, admiring the angles of soft curves Their affection was honest with emotion immense, as they built a life for themselves among all that made sense But trust became tattered by defiance and will, when fidelity bled by each promise unfilled The spiral turned slick with a veneer of resent, as they'd vent with regret each breath less they'd relent

The boil drowned love songs and the sparks of a fuse, when they stopped listening to music that on better days would amuse And after some time this union was broke, wishing the best for each other the last time they spoke Arranged notes that held meaning composed darkness inside, in a state of recovery stretching thin over time This spell of remorse seemed to somehow survive, until a new love would hopefully arrive When that day came a new orchestra blared, and they listened as one in a lifetime they shared

ADDING THE D It's a stressed situation in the changing of tense, as an epilogue is written after a run of events From love to loved is a harsh distance in life, whether a lover or friend, a husband or wife The form isn't realized until you’re forced to accept, that all you have left are decisions and regret Subtle cues invoke a need to reminisce, recalling their warmth, their laugh, or their kiss We embody these remnants as prisoners to our past, from the genesis of trouble to the last inquiry asked

Misery and its venom paralyzed poise to move on, as poison was the victor and reason they're gone Anyone who's loved wears that marker in their soul- a gravestone that’s visited beyond when bells toll

A SERIES STILL REMAINS When all becomes what was and you're damaged by defeat, the battle you waged daily engulfs a lover's grief Memories will not flourish but a series still remains, where aches of recent history mute as sorrow wanes Though albums have less pictures and frames have been replaced, their essence is a specter haunting frequent in this space Artifacts are archived in a warehouse locked away, except for all the relics you're reminded of each day

Months of renovation build wounds into resolve, as forgiveness comes in focus to face problems still unsolved And after lingering drama finds its way to peace, you’ll cherish each new morning without demons to appease

THE REAPPEARING SHOW Hiding sadness is like putting on a play, and once awake is a performance everyday Players join an elaborate charade, unaware of how this back story was made There is no admission to those who would listen, because they are the problem and real source of what's missing From whispers the critiques dance around, as opinions and assumptions compound So this run of shows comes and goes, with an ending date no one knows

And as the curtain draws on the night's routine, its author relives each painful scene

SHADOWS FALL When do we stop paying for our sins, is it after time or acceptance when the healing begins How do we move on past the pain, and do scars contain toxins of the blame Where on the bridge do shadows fall, is it in the moonlight where nightfall hides them all Why on the road do we often drift, from the innocent distance of our mother's kiss Who in their travels avoids regret, it comes with living by the tables we set

What is the course for clean release, and can it last, or will the joy it brings be brief

WITH COURAGE THEY RISE The tethers alone may fracture each bone but they trigger the marrow to move forward The reckoning that exists in composure and risk pours harder than tears from true grief Their depths of desire are sprints on a wire that terrify the timid by its height Prospects are flash points aimed for like map points with a craving that flirts on obsession Their essence is rare in feats they may dare pushing limits past previous standard With courage they rise by the focus of eyes resolute past sane comprehension

The ensuing success attracts more they obsess for perfection they may never reach

THE IF FACTOR If you break, if you're broken, just survive, if you wake, if you've woken, you're alive If you fell, if you've fallen, you must climb, if you rise, if you've risen, you will shine If you want, if you've wanted, you know lust, if you give, if you've given, you own trust If you lie, if you've lied, you spread deceit, if you confess, if you've confessed, you embrace defeat

If you write, if you've written, you duel pain, if you read, if you're reading, you feel the same If you hate, if you've been hated, you’re not alone, if you love, or have been loved, you found home

IMMERSION THERAPY Something happens creating fragments to collect, and the only option it seems is to reflect Thrown from a zenith where mountains peaked, a summit now sinks in depression's seat Concealing strife skips ills on delay, as does deafness to amnesty you betray A recovery commences with immersion in caring, for who softened the fall of weight you were bearing Drain effort on others even if they wouldn't for you, by getting lost within giving as an escape to pass through

With the turmoil of heartache not a hinder at the moment, you are free to advance on an avenue of atonement Ignore pitfalls and tokens that lead to old pain, they're just vagrants and villains you've yet to arraign Swim deep inside passion after you willingly dive into a process of progress that ensures you’ll survive

SAVIORS AND ARCHITECTS We are to another what the other lacks- an ally cementing the chasm amid gaps At points we're an audience for adversity parades, extending our empathy until their issue fades When needed we're a teacher patient with our song, guiding with kindness while sentiments carry on To opponents we’re crucial- a force to overcome, and a presence of purpose beside lines we may run As friends we are partners with unbreakable bonds, and a beacon that outlines where landings belong

Among family we are soil that soaks up the sun, swelling a loyalty to grow organic as one For lovers we are the universe and every detail in between, we are saviors and architects where their dreams convene

THE PASSAGE SEES LIGHT There is a site that's hard to reach, it requires exploring where endings meet Deterrents build barracks for legions of fear, forcing travelers 'round structures raising gates as they near The road and its lessons temper over time, knowing the length, each corner and its wind When the passage sees light and a hope that's ahead, apprehension lets go the panic it bred Everything that matters is a strength in their eyes, a prime sign of arrival and promise in their lives

Thank you, to my family,

friends, and inspirations for their effort, love, and patience. Thank you to Amberly for being my light.