I rush to speak
When I should be quicker
To pause and think,
Parsing each phrase.
How my words will and could
Be interpreted or construed
And of that, whatever resulting.
Of the checks & balances
We put ourselves through,
What is the material from which
The weights of judgement
Have been constructed?
Pig iron, sterling silver, stainless steel?
And of our choice of counterweights,
What is revealed?

Concern of income as status
And popularity as a moral metric
Among peers just as vain.
What is it that fools compete for?
Simpler lives, duller & plain?
Over complicated, gaudy & cliché?
Playing with themselves like
Dogs with their ***** splayed.

time doesn't slow down for a talk,
like the resting heartbeat
of a ticking bomb.
every pause could last days,
could last weeks,
could last years.
it could end with a shot,
it could break with a kiss.
like a memory, split in a billion pieces,
like a mountain, with all its valleys and creases,
like an enemy missile,
about to be dropped,
time doesn't slow down for a talk.

The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?

Spit on the ground,
And raise your ******* in the air.
Those things they have
Told you not to do
Out of respect.
Respect, the base too is self-evident;
But men let it rise up in their heads
To control every thought and emotion.
If they do not respect others,
If their values are in balloons
Leaking hot air,
Beliefs in the wind
Those who are not attached, but not free.
Let no man change any other,
Who himself refuses change.
Those that cannot admit wrongs,
Learn from nothing.

In the grass, snakes lie
Fangs bared, ready to strike,
Slither over consciousness,
Turning strength weak,
As insidious thoughts do inside.
Cause man to pause,
As like a stone;
Movement defies

What galavants as another,
Stuck out
Always staring in?
What sparks,
What smothers?
To capture a view,
Only to envision?
Walks the tightrope of light;
Cleaving night, like rays of a beam?
Put together by others,
Yet lacks a seam?
Has power, that
Blossoms only as a flower?
Looks upon the empty,
To see something?

Who knows nothing?

Too many stops. Too many pauses. Too many full stops.

When moments could have flowed fluid

Could have continued along time’s axis to unfurl experiences

Now unknown, now wondered about, now pondered on. I’m not shaken. But it’s never cathartic. It is forever suspense. It is forever remembrance.

It is not regret. I was who I was, and I am who I am. I cannot null that. It is, wishes, perhaps. It is, wanting, to exist as two, to stop, but to continue, to watch, to witness.

I am full stops; given to elective ethos and jittering convictions. And given to these full stops, I wander, wonder, what, what if, should, should have. What? Happens? After?

Don't stop walking, the path will appear before you;
Love will remedy all your pain if you keep your heart open.
It's not about what we think or feel, it's what we know.
So, surround yourself with good folks
Surrender, and just go with the flow