To sleep -- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
For once your life's candle is but a nub
Your fate has been decided and you cannot run
And you wonder what happened to bulletproof weeks
In your arms, just building sky-castles of words
And as you open your mouth, the raven first speaks
Telling of cabbages and kings, and gentle demon birds
Playing an asphyxiated song of angel's wings
Leaving me intoxicated and feathered with silver crowns
And as the breath from my lungs makes rings
Of vapor in the air, the mist settling on ancient frowns
The future runs through me now to capture
Absolutely clawed leviathans, found in rapture.

Ten minutes resounded throughout the vault of his mind.
It was the time set before the big match he was ordered to throw in.
An Italian immigrant, Jimmy was a man of few words.
But with his gaze, which I’ve seen before, you could see his stories.
And through them, he was left little choice, but to be a dog
For a gang of sharks; all to keep his family away from their teeth.

And before he could settle the debts with his conscious,
He marched to meet his maker before the blood stained ring.
Slick, with what seemed like squid oil, his hair shined like the northern star.
A cocky Chicago fuck by the name of Machesturn.
They met gloves as dictated, but in one second
A dagger like spit ball fell against Jimmy’s glove.

And into the first round, the bell rings like it’s judgment day.
Machestrun flies back like a sparrow, weaving and bobbing,
But my man Jimmy poses still like the great thinker,
Feeling the weight of such a small drop grind its way off his pride.
And in no time, Machesturn begins his assault
With every punch shattering Jimmy’s castle.
Like Atlas giving up on his duty for the world,
Jimmy listens with every earth shattering punch
The screams of his soul wanting to be free.

A left hook; he sees his mother,
A woman who could take the breath of the sun and fill him with light.
A right hook; he sees his father.
A man who lost three fingers in one of his 17 hour jobs.
And even so he worked despite that he’ll never give his family the life they deserve,
But he’ll work his back even after the camel breaks.
And with the upper-cut, his castle grinds to dust.

He sees his sister, Anna-Maria.
She’s turning twenty if his memory served him right
For he had not seen this beautiful girl since they had first arrived in the land of hope.
She deserved a life better than what God ever had in store for her.
He wanted her to smile till rapture,
He wanted her to shine like the stars in the big screens,
And he wouldn’t let her doubt herself, he wouldn’t let others tell her she was any less, but perfect.
Oh no, he would scream before that happens, he would kill before that happens,
He would bleed before that happens, and he would die before that happens!

And with that, Jimmy takes a step back with the fortitude of a mountain,
Eyes geared forward and piercing with the determination of a hawk!
His right arm comes forth bearing the souls of those past in heaven and hell,
With the eruption of his soul screaming like the opera singer he had dreamed of!
To sand became Machesturn’s jaw and Jimmy’s collar flung off.

a.
to create and crave is to quest for gain

b.
what is intangible shall remain

c.
all is dust

d.
reality is relative

e.
as a god's pupil dilates

f.
perpetual singularity

g.
the jester and the harlequin dance and imitate
while the troubadour ponders why art is intimate

h.
lost palindrome

i.
dopamine fix for the data addict

j.
romantic junkie's american dream

k.
neo-lambda in half-light

l.
knowledge is dope

m.
contradiction is my benediction

n.
I am a hypocrite

o.
human difference engine

p.
interstellar weather: listen to the moon

q.
let me break perception

r.
sinful philanthropy

s.
social is sublime

t.
sly sardonic, slick and wicked

u.
neon euphoria;
we bring rapture unto the night

v.
philosophy at a rave

w.
nocturnal firelight on shamanic sands,
mescaline transcendent communion with the land

x.
rainy daze in winter ecstasy

y.
vibrant iris/acid cyclone

z.
love, and ketamine

something ever tender,
lies in your open palm,
& all that is only delicate
hums a distant love psalm,

i had hoped you would
have eyes that smile
& skin that gives back
(only just once in a while)

& what joy, they do !
So I exhale in quiet laughter
& understand what Spring is
in this lovely rapture

i have told myself i will write
u  n  t  i  l
          I distinguish which of you I love
          Can you truly love two people at once?
          In your mind at least
          I don't think you can
1) I love you because you are much smarter than I.
    When you speak I sit in rapture and I can
     only blush and joke
    I am enamored with your presence and mind.
    I calculate paths in which I can encounter you
    And I glow when you laugh. But with you, I am never
   sure.
2) I am in vertigo until you call me to tell me that you will
    be here soon.
   When you crack my knuckles (our game) you
    scan my face to watch my flinch
   You chuckle and call me a baby smugly, and I look away
   self-conscious. But when you leave I am vacant, abandoned
    empty.
          
         Dear God, I know the answer but I don't want to
complicate
            everything

Fire it up.
Voices clap in rapture and lava.
And all around the slow
steady hum of
static climbs into my ears.

Slowly enveloping the poor broadcast. Gone.

Passion in your heart
Radiance and rapture
A part of your soul

The light in the distance
A symbol of home and of hope
Burning embers, a glow in the night

Far beneath our feet
A scorching inferno of magma
The life blood of our planet

The sun and the stars
Flames hung in the sky
Illuminating day through night

A flickering warmth
By the bedside of a child
Candlelight keeping the shadows away

Renewal of the Earth
A phoenix from the ashes
Rising to a new beginning

Grandiose and lofty it may seem
Nevertheless it’s a thought that captures
A dream I consider supreme
It triggers a spontaneous feeling of rapture
Whenever it crosses my mind.
It’s that a lawless society is an empowered society
The premise being that life is kind
Lending credence to society imposed piety.
As succinct as it is,
It sums up my simple idiosyncrasy as me
It’ll be a paradigm shift that’ll put my mind at ease
And fill my heart with glee.

The existing realities are grim        
         Stupefying for lack of a better word.

Andy Bryn.