Lying, sitting, standing.
None of which are comfortable.
Ache, after ache, after ache.
I stand, I sit.
In an attempt to comfort it.
Oh my lovely young bones.
To old to grow to naive to know.
Of arthritis, porosis.
It seems to fit.
That I should feel so unlit.
In bed, or chair, or crouch.
I know the strain is only from
Another position kept to long.
I know I know
I need to move again, to show.
It’s less about my bones.
And more or less about my head.
I take a sip of black coffee
It sits resting in the ceramic mug next to this typing space
The liquid rushes down my throat
This fifth cup of the hour brings joy
Is it a crutch, for I miss my usual companions of mind expansion?
Or is it a common cultural ritual of casual importance?
Is it a tool to fuel the fire of prolific inspired thoughts?
Or is it an illusion of harmful dedication to fulfill the need to write?
I feel it helps,
Though, naturally, it is not necessary.
Just as wine to wet the palate of flow,
Or an herbal cigarette to get the picture on the roll, the scroll, the holy goal
It simply is a habit - an extra step to the top floor of Creation.
I've been in the fields - the plantations
I've picked the coffee bean with my own hands for hours upon hours on end,
Leaving nothing but sticky hands and a limp paycheck to help me continue on my way.
Where am I headed?
Only the sky knows the answer to that question.
I try my very best to listen to its whispers
And imitate its words with action
I try and follow the orders of the divine to the best of my ability
But I am human,
And with that fact, I am hindered by natural law
And so I sit quietly on this lazy sunshine afternoon, sipping my black coffee
Recalling the days of sticky hands and limp paychecks in the humid fields of fate
And laugh at the craziness of my existence.
When I was born, did I think that I'd be here today, recalling such things
And forever immortalizing them in word and symbol?
I can't recall.
Perhaps I did , but perhaps I didn't.
They say that you choose your family before your come into this world.
But did they also say that you’d pick your face and desires?
Did they say that you’d be exactly who you wanted to be?
I’m not too sure who “they” are, but I don’t really care
As I poured the coffee into this mug,
I also choose what I want to do, who I want to be, and just how I shall love the world
As a human, we’re born free
The mind creates whatever it wants to base its perspective on reality off of.
The lock of gravity to keep us from floating away
Even when you’ve had a drop or two of ol’ Sandoz, you’re still kept from flying from the world
Words can fly, though
At least spoken word.
The words carry a vibration, a soundwave, which continue throughout the cosmos for eternity,
Unless eternity doesn’t exist in this universe,
In which case, they shall bounce off the walls of Space and Time and ricochet back to their source
Oh holy game of Sound Tennis
Free us from thinking you don’t exist
When the game is being played, its easy to forget that its just a game
It is only a game
Sitting in the sunshine of afternoon daze,
Sipping away at coffee and dreams
Life seems more like a blessing of bizarre circumstance and genuine interest in formful comfort
As opposed to a game with no more of a meaning than to finish it and try win in the meantime
Something seems fishy
And it isn’t the cat or the caffeine
Its the bare existence of existence
Perhaps I’m dancing around in circles, getting nowhere
But is there actually anywhere to go?
Sure, I’d love to be on the beach in ninety degree weather in the Cayman Islands rather than the cold of This northeastern mountain range of poor old troubled Amerika
But such is life
Perhaps one day I’ll be back on the beaches, dreaming easy of nothing, for the dream has already been Fulfilled, oh what a dream
With a farm up the hill from the coast
With fresh gardens and fruit trees and cannabis and coconuts and a shack of humble gratitude
With rivers and fish and goats and chickens
With sunshine and warmth and light and forever blue skies
With a woman of love and peace and art and intellect and wisdom and smiles
With the quaint knowledge that everything is always alright, regardless of circumstance
With the security of not needing security
With the freedom to laugh without pausing out of courtesy to not wake the sleeping
With the ghastly beauty of not waiting in line to ride a roller-coaster, for the mind is more than enough
With twists and turns and self-inflicted burns
With the crazy catch of tomorrow while still being here today
With nothing less than paradise awaiting the caress of self’s heart
And the holy notion that there’s something even greater on the other side of this life
Om, tranquil being
Pour more coffee, must stay awake - no sleep in days
No sleep in weeks
How do those speedy speedsters do it?
I wouldn’t even want to try
I enjoy my dimethyltriptamine inspired voyages across unforeseen holographic landscapes of the Subconscious
Oh, I’m conscious of that
I wonder if it’d be possible to bring the totality of the subconscious mind to full conscious awareness
I suppose it wouldn’t be the subconscious anymore
And thus there would be no way to measure if it worked or not
I think it’s already working
Yep, it’s working,
At one-twenty-eight a.m. It’s working. From noon to night. Life is still life, and it’s all alright.
I cry at the fraility of mortality
I accept all must pass
Anything is possible at any time
Thus awareness is key
Unlock the door
Storm the houses
Take captive the machinery of maya
And take a match to the floors
Let the house of austerity go up in smoke
May the winds of Nature blow the cloud away from overhead
May the shadows be cast into the light
Hoy es hoy
Ayer ya paso
Y manana nunca muestran su
Asi que hoy es la vida
Hoy es todo
Hoy es el Cielo
Hoy es el infierno
Enviar mis saludos a los angeles caidos de antano
Que sus almas se ilumino con dulce alivio a la luz del sol de oro de ser eterno
La manana del Cielo
Se realizo hoy en la Tierra
That sweet release comes but once a lifetime
And once it comes, the revelation
Cannot be shared with others -
Each body, each soul
Must experience it for themselves...
And at that moment, all shall be known
But until then, we must make comfort and peace our objectives
Enjoy the ride
I've seen introverts become the center of attention
I've seen extroverts go ignored
I've heard complacent well-adjusted human beings
Cry out for something more
And there's a million and one things to do with life
So don't you dare be bored
Because there are three types of people in this world:
Those who do
Those who don't
And those who didn't, but wish they had
At times it's wrong to do what's good
Sometimes you've got to be bad
So don't you go on second guessing
Lest you end up with regret
Follow your instincts
Don't look back
'Cause there are three kinds of people on this earth:
Those in the future
Those in the past
And those in the present, so make it last
At times it happens all so fast
You forget to examine the extent of the impact
But don't you worry about forgotten things
They'll find their way back to you in your dreams
And there are those who will tell you that it's false
They'll comfort you with broken arms
To drag you down to into the swamp
Trying to stop you before you start
Now there are three sects of people on this planet:
And then the true believers
Examine your head to find the truth
Don't worry about what you can or can't proove
Nothing matters nearly as much
As the things that matter to you
You see, there's no right or wrong way to live a life
It all depends on how it makes you feel
The miraculous fact that you exist at all
Gives you the right to determine what is real
Because there are but three animals in this pen:
And the Golden hen
And this is when we
We are our very own
And our depression
Comes from within.
And every second longer
It hurts a little bit more
From your insides.
You feel that familiar ache
In your heart, your sad blood
Pumps it all around your body.
You breathe it in
With each sighing breath
And you cry it out
Until ÿöü gasp for air.
It's the self hate
And it's the loathing,
It's sitting in bed
And not eating at all
Or eating too much.
It's too many imperfections
On your skin
So deep it reaches the inside...
It's no power
And hopeless love
Of a nation
With every word they say
You hear the pain
In our laugh,
You can't see the smile in our eyes.
We are dead and wasted
At the age of youth.
We don't feel the free joy
Or the comfort of strong hands
All we feel is our sick hearts
With something that is
Hate and pity and horror
And everything into one.
It is dangerous.
We the people,
The new people,
The forever youth
With forever words,
And the forever pain.
I am the ghost in the machine
You raise the curtain and what Tim Burton told you would be there is
I will feast on your Innards and cast without regard to your suicidal aunt
a hand gun and tell her to have fun
I am the devil and it's not evil I seek it's retribution.
Join my clan; you don't still believe you're part of some godly plan!
Ahahahahah! You're so cute when you’re terrified. Go on try and run, you'll never hide.
but behind your eyes I smell desperation.
And any chance at rehabilitation would be masturbation
And yet you have hope behind those eyes. Your mind racing with possibilities that I might be lovable and changeable.
But I’m the devil and hell is my navel
I control the universe.
Your dog got hit by a car.
He looks better as tar
he makes a great floor mat. Should have trained him in hand to paw combat.
Your mum is terminally Ill
Send me the bill.
You best friend dies, hate to say it but did he even try.
I control and contort; I do not send hope or
Comfort. I am the devil. They say third times the charm
Maybe this Time you'll remember I'm here only to do harm.
I'm the ghost in the machine.
But I'm only as strong as you make me seem.
I lost you somewhere along the way,
somewhere deep inside my brain.
I never thought I would see,
and when I did, I couldn't believe.
I'm just trying to find my way.
I feel everything,
even the bells when they ring.
The bells, how they toll,
searching for my lost soul.
I'm just trying to find my way.
I'm just fighting for another day.
Wrists smudged with red,
let the voices in your head.
I thought I was immune,
but I'm just a human, out of tune.
I'm just trying to find my way.
I'm just wondering astray.
Another statistic right,
says I'll kill myself tonight.
Another statistic right,
so why is no one by my side.
Be my friend.
Be there in the end.
I'm just trying to find my way.
I'm just trying to survive,
Your teeth in my skin, my
shoulder in your mouth.
I wonder- am I sleek and
fragrant from all the poetry
I've marinated in? Does
the metaphor soften the
flesh, make it easier
She climbs out of the galaxy
to say hello to Her reflection
in the dripping pool of stars
and molecular consciousness
She climbs out of Her womb
to be born to the Day of Now
and live as She always has lived
She climbs the mountain of Life
to shout Her Prophesies
to the ears of hermetic creatures
with ears tuned to Her voice
She climbs under the radar
of vicious naysayers
attempting to surprise them
with Her hidden beauty
and knowledge of All Things
She climbs from Her watchtower
and walks the streets of mortality
and sacrifices Her form
to gain back Her eternal body
She climbs out from the past
to offer Her peace and comfort
to the ill-minded souls
lulling into despair from indecisive hearts
She climbs out of the painting
to inspire the painter with Love
and internal wisdom
She climbs for the skies
knowing She'll end up in circles -
an endless loop of here's and there's
She climbs back out of the laughter
to hear Her echo of life
ring through every dimension of the cosmos
She climbs the wicked winds
to land safely like a dove
on the shoulder of the faithful
and the strong,
never letting up Her hold
on the Card of Fate
She climbs to the Heavens of Her mind
to poetically rearrange Her thoughts
to mirror Her destiny
She climbs down from Herself
and imagines what life would be like
to not exist
and to not imagine
and to not know
to not feel
to climb no longer
She smiles to Herself
as She becomes the climb
and thus, She is
Your kindness knew no limits
Your gentle touch so loving that never got sharp
I was held secure and tight all night
With our close bodies connected
But no slumber fell upon us
just a warmth of protection
Bypassing the sorrow and sadness that existed before you
Now only comfort stood
Most naturally the want soon grew to need
And then need almost met
Until life showed itself again
And in crept the sorrow and the gush of pain
I'm back to me without no you
Just a sweet bitter memory remains
Remember I shall till that fades too