my humble coat of truth
as smile of pouring skies
which moment dots the scape
curves upon a prize
for speaking tints of red
rainbows in disguise
flashing trod her dreams
kiss her sky goodbye
linger as fog of dead
which seems to keep alive
through strings of steely charms
memories of yesternight
i ache as boiling pain
as pleasure fills my eyes
seep in the tears of past
as moments tranquil fly
i risk the heights of sun
through rumblings of our lives
what breaks upon as rain
as poem it survives
I looked down today,
down past the cracks
in the sidewalk,
into a clear sheet of water
unmarked by time
and I saw you.
It sounds so poetic,
but it's true;
the chance to speak your name
and give life to the past-
it felt natural, and
in a way that scared me,
settled there among the new snow
and the crowded room of strangers.
Your smile, just the idea
that I should defend you,
within which fault could be found
was laid down before me
and trust me, I know
how to look past each twisted corner
and make the edges fit
and see you there before me
as if you'd never folded yourself
in the first place.
Unbend, I want to say,
unfold your wings and fly
I once saw a moth
Fly right into a burning candle
It stuck in the melted wax
And probably died instantly
I think I am that moth...
What do you think about
The question confuses me
I'm still trying to blink the sleep
out of my eyes
What do you think about
When you just gaze off into
Where does your mind go
I think about this
My mind floods
With images and thoughts
But I can't let them know
I think about music
The way it would look
If we could see it
How the notes would intertwine
Or fighting against each other
I suppose that would make sense
But I lied
I can't simply tell you
She consumes my every thought
That all I can think of
Are those eyes like lighthouses
Blue like the sea
And the sky above
Like the empty space beyond
I think about how
She is the birds chance to fly
The raindrop that falls
On the back of my neck
The stamp on every love letter
I've ever written
She is the music
To the song I've had stuck in my head
For weeks on end
But no I can't tell them
They can't know about any of this
I would never expect them
To understand any of this
So I lied
Tripped out blackened falling past back through the CRACKs again
Blasted wasted all of it tasted so FRESH again
I am who I say I am, but what am eYe?
Perception, damnation, ascension, redemption
Falling, falling, rising, writhing in the light the serpent tWiZtS
Like a DNA double no triple quintuple helix outside the bounds
Imagine the sounds, can you expound on the downtime?
Know what I'm saying if it's not clear to you
I question the norm and fall back into you
Am I insane? What is sane? To feel pain? Or to ignore it all, fall, fall, only to rise, the skies have opened up and spilled their seed upon the ground
Sounds like Chaos. I'll make it.
Peace. Equanimity. Balance. Words have power, but we give it to them. A serpent could just as easily be a dove. Vibrate. Ommmmmmm. Sanskit. Hebrew. Who knew? Enochian keys and Christian disease. Why do they believe? Because they're scared and it's all they have to turn to. They are given no other options. Open your fucking MINDS. Question authority. Think for yourselves. Nobody else can tell you what is true. There are no authorities, we just let them boss us around. Fuck hierarchy. I'm a monkey, you're monkey. Just because we can string words together doesn't mean they make sense. Just because you write something on paper doesn't make it true. Change is good. Any change would be welcome in this stagnant society. Hey, look, that kid can spell deoxyribonucleic acid. He must be smart. Don't believe it. Cost effective bullshit. Fuck Newspeak. Why are you letting them take away your freedoms? Are you really that insecure? Fuck the police state mentality. You don't have to listen to those people. Don't listen to me either. Listen to yourselves, your inner voice. You know what is right. Man's law is not God's law, and the Bible, the Koran, the Torah, these are all MAN's words, twisting the eternal truth into chains to bind you to their ways. Fuck that. You will not find God in a book. Think. Question. Go off the deep end. Lose your ego. Don't be afraid to experiment. That cliff is waiting, jump, jump, JUMP, you won't fall, you'll fly, oh shit they fell for it, you're falling, you're falling, you're fucking FLYING, wings, and it's all all right now, ain't it, off across the Universe to better brighter things, fucking words limit the conveyance of the true message, but it's all right, you'll get there, just forget everything you know, and BAM! it's right there.
Free your mind. Be. Om. Words lie. Truth is.
To the Days I Felt Safe:
For those who
Tie knots around their necks,
With words they once heard
Sound fancy enough they choke upon their diction
You do not belong.
Whos hands wave
And voices shiver,
To cover the emptiness of their words
You do not belong.
For those who-
Sit in corners
And draw airplane in their minds,
And create universes
So that their little airplane can find
A reason to fly;
And by the end of the day in school
They would learn that,
Black holes are never darker that the pits of our day dreamt creations,
And moons cannot reflect
All the rays of imagination
A little kid dives in,
Sitting in corners,
Inspired by the spirals
On the edges of his copybooks
Because what’s in the middle of the page
Was never his concern;
He did not belong.
For those who paint their dreams
Red blue and green
On the back of their veins
While their skin is dead pale
You do not belong.
For those who find difficulties reading,
And find haven in short words
And in pauses after sentences
And in deaths after paragraphs,
And find heaven when no text book is open
You do not belong.
For those who can love
Hard enough to call it love
You do not belong-
I do not belong.
For those who are tired of their deafening surroundings,
The fruitless noises
Of teenagers who forgot how to think,
Their voices that shatter
Like ultra-violet rays
Hitting ozone layers;
Who are tired of loved ones that fail to realize,
That the beauty of their souls
Rises and falls
Twists and turns
And burns to the core of my heart,
Till it bleeds
Verses of spoken word poetry
Of words unspoken,
You do not belong.
And belonging is relative
And death- is partial,
For social circles squeezed too tight
That it’s too hard to breathe,
And our egos grew too wide
We forgot who we really are
Although we’re full of ourselves.
But our imagination; takes us away
Till we realize
How far we are
From who we could be.
Some fools are born, conditioned by fate,
And they, like all, still procreate.
All useful knowledge flees their minds,
As selfish life fulfills these swines.
And while they swing and cheat for joys,
The watchful eyes of their little boys
Do take a look at what they see,
And what they see is “A bigger me.”
Their little girls, in company of dolls,
On occasion, foresee what befalls
Upon them, too, as they soon explore,
An impending battle of love and war.
But then, there exists that little kid,
Whose sex and gender shall remain amid
A cloud of irrelevance and mystery:
Their wisdom calls most urgently.
As this kid sees a life unravel
Along Lacanian stages of travel,
Concerned are they with the fuss and mess,
Which most adults do not confess
To what they cause and what they bring,
Most taken in by their offspring;
And as one parent lacks all the care,
The other lives a life unfair.
In times of chaos and audacious cuss,
Dear vengeful killer, Oedipus,
Consumes all facets of the mind
Of the little kid who must confine
All pain, and hatred, and all rage,
Enough to place one in a cage,
And leave one there to squirm and rot,
Like a lobster boiling in a pot,
And free the bird whose wings to fly
Have been broken off, now left to die,
In part, by diabolical norms
That invade a home in all shapes and forms.
But, the kid looks up at the two,
Then whispers quietly, “I’m neither of you;
Not the blinded one, who feels must reign;
Nor the obliged one, too tied to pain."
Nor does the kid ever dare to be
A product passed politically:
Ingrained in mind, in heart, and soul
A subordinate being in a bowl,
That turns, and turns, and turns, and turns
While greedy capitalists more they yearn.
Within this cycle is little choice,
Hetero-normatively sans a screaming voice,
For a true language for some not made;
Virile chest-pounds place a shade
Upon the stronger ones deprived
Appraisal for their stronger minds.
The kid, all this, can’t take to be,
As what they see they wish not to see.
In this unbalanced Yin and Yang,
The kid’s perception hits a bang:
“The power lies within the one,
Who mostly governs with a gun;
And how can a human hurt their double,
When love and passion are lesser trouble?"
A fitting sex the kid can't choose,
As in every win, each sex does lose.
But slowly, as they come to be,
The kid, society directs to see,
That to just one sex they must belong,
As 'genitalia proves feelings wrong.'
This funny theory most credits Freud.
By collective viewpoints the kid’s annoyed:
'No good is said, no good is done',
For those who are all, but yet are none.
Great gender points makes Butler de Judith
While her female likes are out to proveth,
That she is wrong within her stance
‘Only female unity will give rise to chance'
To an inclusion of the female word,
And one that’s First, not Second or Third.
The opposite, still out to bend
The rules and laws, all to pretend
That the other sex does not exist
Because swollen egos must persist
In rule, in art, in build, and biz:
'Fields where opposites lack all wiz.'
The kid, in this silly world of theirs,
Looks at all the foolish heirs
Who bounce and shoot this gendered ball,
While the kid stands back and laughs at all.
Your soul fills the air,
With the energy of your being
Benevolence and purity and understatement
You, so perfect that my knees wobble
You cam straight from my dreams,
To my ever plain reality,
And livened up my world
A cataclysm could not take my eyes from you,
The earth could shake, and I would still
Reach out for your touch,
To taste of your grace, and body
Your perfume smells like lilacs,
Your eyes emit sunshine
I can't come to embrace that,
You walked into this life of mine
I'll hold you till the world stops turning,
When pigs fly, and fire falls from heaven
I'd climb a fissure with the promise
Of your open arms waiting at the top
I still can feel the ghost,
Of your lips on mine,
The flavor that I'll savor till the end of time
That the geese fly south
For the winter when the
Chills begin and the air crisps
And black ice freezes death traps
On back-way roads.
"V "formation is natural
Mutual survival and
I wonder if their leader was
When the last of the daylight kisses the feet of the moon and night becomes the dawn of the rising,surprised I awake on the lakeside of sorrow where tomorrow sheds tears for the time allows nothing to stand,
I obey laws of physics though consult with the mystics and the doyens of the beer hall only watch as I call to my maker, thief taker,partaker in murder,to kill dead the silence that roars in my ears.
At the bottom of this glass sits the truth that I search for,but as I reach the finale I find only the floor,it's like the dawn of the rising and no less surprising to me.
If I talk with the shadows that shiver in the doorway,they only say to me, 'spare some change for a cup of tea?'
questions that bother me bitterly, I so agree with the Government policy to ignore everything that doesn't look right to me,
and night even more looks surprisingly, like something I wore once on Wednesday.
They say that this madness creeps up on you and the way it attacks is like it's fukin you,as I've never looked back at my retinue I can't tell if the last statement is true or not,
but you've got what I consider to be the utter truth, as I fly downwards and climb to the slate grey roof where the owls there will greet me with beaks set to eat me,
I wake and sleeps beats me again.