Some spoken word stuff I came up with. I would like your opnion, please.

[The FBI]

So I've been thinking about hitting up an open mic with a few spoken word pieces I wrote. But before that, I was hoping for some C/C from you guys. I originally posted a few pieces in the creationism corner, but that thing moves slower than molasses these days, so I decided to try to put it in the GD (If this is a gross violation of the ToS, please move the topic. Mods are gods.) There's three pieces here, all influenced by the poet Rives, and rapper Aesop Rock. The three pieces are posted in chronological order. Please indicate which one(s) you read, liked, and what order you think they should go in. Thanks in advance.
(currently awaiting an influx of boxes)

[release]Build Me A Home:------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
build me a home
build me a home of brick and wood and everything good
with a front porch swing and incredible things
a view of the morning sunrise directly after cloudy nights
and a wealth of good neighbors to carry me through to the morning light
-
alright
Perhaps you could find I am living in a dream
sugar coated and loaded up with the malicious and greiving
but please allow me a moment to breathe
i swear to god I have no god, but I didn't mean to spread the seeds
I only meant to build a home
-
Build you a home
I would build you a home that can't be overthrown
Made of made of tempered steel, barbed wire and bone
You don't have to see a soul again, not even the ones you want to let in
So allow me a moment to spread myself thin, then grin, bleed, cry, fly
watch me build a brick wall up to the sky
Then you'll see why
You'll cry for someone to build you a home
a real home not this sorry excuse for a rag and bone broken in, ready to moan
Find a lover, another drone, a worker bee so you won't have to find your own
-
way to get through the day, tattered, wishing your wounds could be on display
maybe I can garner some sympathy from the all powerful right wing
look what I've been through, what I've done and seen
I've ingested the taste of prophets soldiers and childeren who sing
Imagine the shock when they look back and scream "gluttony!"
-
You'll see
And don't you ask "why hast thou forsake thee?"
To the man in the corner, behind the curtain, or the people that seem affiliated with me
You know how it went, maybe it was clearer when you slept, but when you stood
you asked "do I dare disturb the universe?" and you would
break the time and space in half while people die, sit back and laugh
"why has god forsaken man?" they scream stuck in a dream, reprimaded for eternity
just because they might succumb to the human condition, worn and ready for a new rendition of their plan
be it in a church home or prison you look down and decree it will not be forgiven
and while time and space could rip apart, given the division might live within a beat of the human heart
-
You break free.
-
No longer there to closely monitor your antfarm, your ants get scared "to whom now do we pray before we sleep?"
then an insect stands nearly overwhelmed by the weight of command, extremities tingling as he rises on the sands
he speaks his gospel of god and man, saying "we were always alone, Or did you not see the pane of glass?"
-
So we build a home.
[/release]

[release]Storytelling:------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey it's me again
And I'm here to tell a story.
About a family I once believed was close
But loooking back was really just as fragmented and fucked up as it is now.
See, there was a time when i was like 2, where I believed in the plutonic family
Mom, dad, 2 kids and a white picket fence
It's the best way to raise childeren, or so they say.

Like go to junior high for your first school dance with sarah,
the girl who nobody could imagine bore any ill will
Pick her up on the back seat of a bike and put on that smug face
while she gets hot over your new ride
You get on the seat, and put her on the handlebars
and ride away to the dance
where you dance
...or slow dance.

But either way, in the plutonic family, everyone had rhythm
Or could restart a jukebox by knocking on it.
At the malt shop Norman Rockwell studio
In the middle america cockpit

Skip To high school
Junior year
You just got that car you always wanted
you know, the one with the loud motor
To prove that you're a social guy, not just that one loner
Speaking in one liners

This time the sockhop roles around
and you decide it's time to paint the town red
or at least as red as you can paint it at 16
maybe you just want to have sex for the first time
But who's judging you?
Not I

So you go off and paint the town, and have sex or whatever
And for some reason, it's ok. Like you have a chance with this person
You just added another member to your life dream
and nobody makes you choose between romantic love and the platonic family
Go steady

Skip to adulthood
and get a career the kids never hear about
All that matters is the money's rolling in and you can get those kids in and out
while mom stays home to watch the little ones and paint that fence white
Alright

Back to that two year old
His dad suddenly found out he was gay, and that's not the problem
He gave his son adversity and something to overcome
But he left a family in ruin
Financial ruin

Which the mom took out on the little boy
by constantly snapping and serial dating
Serial dating skips to the substitute dad which mom claims won't be that bad
Along with a couple men she claims follow the same fad
But if we recall school, the sub never did as well as the teacher
I guess we can call him a mistake

not /the/ mistake
Enter the mistake.
A blonde little boy who test's the family's sense of give and take
Luckily, he's accepted right away like the 50s sock hop prom date
But god, the bonds of flesh and blood are strong
And when the two heads took part in the mistake
you could see how the first kid's heart would break

He resents this life, and what's at stake
Because he once thought he could save the world
Though everyone asked him to put on the breaks

This time we're in reality.
Everything till post junior high was a fallacy
it bothers me
so will skip on to the prosperous things
Let's move forward to high school
Junior year again

This time that young boy is starting to make friends
Despite the fucked up home situation
skewing his mental equation of balance
between the mind and the phallus
He finds a friend on which to cling

Someone he loves
And a sense of well-being
and i don't mean to string you along
but that boy we're talking about is moving on
some family trouble still exists but soon it'll be gone

because he'll run
and he won't look back in quite some time
Until he can save the world with a different rhyme
Or at least find a moral concept he can redefine
[/release]

[release]Courtesy Of MrS------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've had my share of white nights and disgraceful affairs,
but my nights never ended with a day;
as that golden sunshine ray of hope
would turn into an ashen gray
My mind swells and crests like an ocean wave

those evening lights still play across my mind's eye
like a projector projectin' projections of a straight-to-memory classic.

It's fantastic
Got the weaker minds turning spaztic
with a burning yearning turning their heads
while they shutter and gasp their last breath

See, these memories pull with a force larger that "g" could ever be.
And this may seem a bit selfish -- keepin' this whole damn thing for me,
but there is another side to this equation.
An x-axis rotation flippin' this industrail station to civilize a former nation

And it's got me scared to the point of shakin
Like we may never see the recreation of me to we.
Still it pulls the same towards infinity;
towards a place where E doesn't equal M C even with an extra 2;
where all space and time exists between our finger tips

And the cars and bars and wallets
are straight to memory classics
not because theyre reminiscent
of the good old days and has beens
but they make an impression
like an iron oxide brewed between acids

See, my memory is mainly made up
of fallen leaves
and ocean scenes
and smoking weed
and spreading seeds

Of Bill Mahr style doubt
from major motion picture zeitgeist trivia
to the religious zealots at the door to door test for clout
and whatever you do, keep the bad man out

he doesn't believe in god our jesus
he must be one of the meanest people to walk this earth
Like I try to prevent women from giving birth
Or by general definition, I'm most likely to commit a crime

See, these people's minds
are short and stout like nursery rhymes
That bend our minds and try to
distort our grasp of time
Like we need another crusade
in order to let god's hero be conveyed

We don't need another hero, homie
Gallop off on your my little one-trick pony
Try to fill the void when your annoyed
fill that pit in your stomach with your crony

And don't try to win me over
by trying to fix my pseudo depression with a riddle

Sorry to offend, but sometimes life bends in the middle
So now I Got a fulcrum where there used to be a pillar
And now I got no 9 to 5 but still labor days flicker
and now I gotta sit through an empty delusion drifter
Trying to tell me I should accept christ to become that much richer

see, I don't really feel your persona distortion
ordered by martyrs who martyr self for martyr's sake
I'd rather get back to the daily grind and
test the balance of my balance
And see what I can give to the give and take.
So i can show you what's really at stake.
[/release]