right now would be a great time to write poetry
it’s past midnight, everyone is asleep
there is a pale blue light coming from the hallway bathroom
my thoughts are lingering in distant, buried places
recalling nightmares as dreams
drawing halos over the heads of humans
but i don’t want to
i am tired
and bored
and afraid my words will smell like stale clichés
maybe i can just dip my toes in reflective black holes
feel the coolness, the deadness
the other world i’m too afraid to fall into
like quicksand or riptides or working nine to five
maybe i can lean in, just enough, to get a glimpse
of what i do not want

i promise i don’t think of you.

The river winds in from distant lands
With mercyless power it turns stone to sand
Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands
And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands.
In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow
The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For
Onward, forever, its destined to go
A permenant home it won't ever know.

The river runs from each of us
As a refugee of fear,
It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else
Its waves are really its tears.
It runs from the audacity  
Of the selfish human mind
As Its massive life capacity,
Of flora and fauna combined,
Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime
So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time-


even within its whitecap foam
Water's yearning for a home

So roam does the water- endlessly,
till its long gone out of sight
The essential droplets of the river-
Nomads day and night.

Work woke me up
Got me up and ahead
Head into heated hearts
Go ahead right?
Well I'm willing
Why no heat?
Why no wet sheets?
Obvious oblivious obligations
Obesity
Open wide shut

...................And I am so cold
My soul is rock-hard-frozen
And stuck on you
Love, I am sorry
You have to tolerate me your entire life.

I love you
came out of your mouth
for the first time
without the dustings of
obligation.
at 23,
for the first time,
I believed it.

the distance
between obsession and obligation
can be amazingly
short

"Now listen up," the Professor said
With his big brain blown-up inside his big head,
"When I get old and frail and weary
Your life may become, quite frankly, quite dreary.
For life without knowledge is something to flee,
And knowledge, we know, is stored inside me.
So I make myself clear in this moment right now
To have you, my son, take on a great vow.
Once I pass on, the world is hopeless,
Unless a Professor remains in existence.
So you as my son must become like me,
You're the next Professor-- that's my decree."
Don't ask me why me, he said what he said,
And what he says is law-- coming from that big head.
Now I've received a new occupation,
And I'm the luckiest kid in all of creation!
The next Professor... Just think, that's me!
And then I get to make the next decree!

Like rocks that fill my pockets, it just weighs me down. Regret always whispering doubt, it would be better just to drown.

I hold it between parted lips, his name that can't be said. Like sandpaper on the tongue, my frustrations so deep I cracked and bled.

Tell me Sorrow why I sit, on the corner of Self and Obligation. While in the cloak of night I cry, and choke on my own damnation.

I can't wash this new lover off my body, the filth won't rinse away. Another name on the list, another excuse not to stay.

It burns within like a thousand fires, desire that can't be repressed. But I'm so busy punishing myself, that I may never rest.