Native American Code Of Ethics:

Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often.
The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.
~
Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path.
Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy and greed stem
from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.
~
Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others
to make your path for you. It is your road, and
yours alone. Others may walk it with you,
but no one can walk it for you.
~
Treat the guests in your home with much consideration.
Serve them the best food, give them the best
bed and treat them with respect and honor.
~
Do not take what is not yours whether from
a person, a community,the wilderness or from a
culture. It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.
~
Respect all things that are placed upon
this earth – whether it be people or plant.

Honor other people’s thoughts, wishes and words.
Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic them.
Allow each person the right to personal expression.
~
Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative
energy that you put out into the universe
will multiply when it returns to you.
~
All persons make mistakes.
And all mistakes can be forgiven.
~
Bad thoughts cause illness of the mind,
body and spirit. Practice optimism.
~
Nature is not FOR us, it is a PART of us.
They are part of your worldly family.
~
Children are the seeds of our future. Plant
love in their hearts and water them with
wisdom and life’s lessons. When they
are grown, give them space to grow.
~
Avoid hurting the hearts of others.
The poison of your pain will return to you.
~
Be truthful at all times. Honesty is the
test of one’s will within this universe.
~
Keep yourself balanced. Your Mental self, Spiritual
self, Emotional self, and Physical self – all need
to be strong, pure and healthy. Work out
the body to strengthen the mind. Grow
rich in spirit to cure emotional ails.
~
Make conscious decisions as to who
you will be and how you will react. Be
responsible for your own actions.
~
Respect the privacy and personal space of
others. Do not touch the personal property of
others – especially sacred and religious
objects. This is forbidden.
~
Be true to yourself first. You cannot
nurture and help others if you cannot
nurture and help yourself first.
~
Respect others religious beliefs.
Do not force your belief on others.
~
Share your good fortune with others.
Participate in charity.

You taste of cigarettes,
it disgusts me to no end.
But still I come back for more.
I can’t help but crave your poison.
I’ve grown addicted
and accustomed to your influences.

Your kisses send me into frenzies.
Each time
I am filled with
self hatred,
loathing,
and pity.

I hope that one day I will be able to escape
from your constricting hold.
But for now
I will stay content,
just within the reaches of the dangers
playing around with you brings.

No matter how much
you feel is going on within you
yet more is going on
on the other side of your veil of self:

No matter how little
you think you matter
you are an entire realm;
a Universe unto itself:

No matter how alone you feel,
know that you are your own Shaman,
that you are your own Savior
if only you'd let yourself be.

There is no External;
Everything you experience
is a result of your existence
and is thus Internal.

Your Neurons synthesize your mind
your Mind in turn determines Neural networks;
It can thus be said
even in the realm of Neuroscience
that you create your reality;

Your Shadow precedes you in time:
Tread lightly. Learn yourself with care.

These are your final days, Self.
Each frame of 'Reality'
presents itself to an entirely new "You"
for "You" are a fleeting image, a frame,
supported by Neurons
for a brief
yet continuous
moment.

Her voice swallowed me
Taking in all of me
Encapsulated , over taken
Shocked
Her voice had always rang true when she talked
She sung, and it rang, rung, round her truth
That I found, she was beautiful
Carrying her sweet song, like she carried everybody else
Full-heartedly, companionably
Completely, she can see me
And I laugh because she clearly can’t hear herself
See her…. self, because she likes
That I don’t hide, that I’m blind to delicate
Say it like it is
And that is why
I don’t lie
She is beautiful.

You overwhelm me with the greatest happiness I have ever known
And yet I am still waiting for the other foot to drop
So I am ruined through my own unwillingness to simply accept the joy
I am stuck in a rut of fear, waiting for it all to dissipate so that I am alone again
Maybe this time is different, maybe you and I will be friends for ages
Always enjoying each other and our minds, both separate and together
I know I am handling this one differently, and perhaps you are too
I love who I am when I am with you, because I am my own pure, unadulterated self
I don't know if saying you bring out through best in me would be through truth
Because there are home awful parts that are me too
But you allow me to be me in the best way possible, and I feel liberated
Being your friend is a wonderful gift, and happenstance brought us together
I would be lost without you, yet I am lost with you too, so either way it would be the same
I do not depend on you, nor do I need you, but I do appreciate the company
I'm handling this one differently, and maybe you are too
Hopefully there is not another foot waiting to drop
Because I'm liking this way too much

I feel so much more at home
when the Sun isn't shown;

Walking the streets at Night
while my side of the World sleeps.
Not for some sought after seclusion,
but rather because I just like it.

Billions of specks perforate the blackened sky
as billions of Neurons fire and forget.

Nighttime is mystical;
the inner self has more space to fill than in the daytime,
wherein the gaps are filled for us
by assholes in fancy offices we pay for
who weave tapestries of demagoguery
in front of nice cameras
and behind closed doors:

Clear as Day,
Clever as Night.

Though Day has it's place,
Night is it's balance.
Night is the supple ripeness of potential
where Day is the actualization of potential.

Nyx is the Goddess of the Night;
mother of Sleep, Dreams and Death.
A strange and shy Goddess of Occlusion,
Keeper of the darkened Gateways
of deeper and truer Understanding.

Night is a Dream;
a magical time of mythical atonement
for both Body and the Mind:
a time nearly separate from time,
a time of my own.

Alas, daybreak is neigh.

I am disgusted by your privy and lathered face, facial expressions fill the gentle void, devoid of all human concious, empathic license of intelligence, you were always smarter than me, I wonder, does that make you happy? Twisted twine and pathic phrases of gang related gore, driving me off the walls, towards and in my own stall, waiting, phrasing the right thoughts in my head, to silent to tell the meaning of the names i came up with, of the charcters of my theater peice playing soon on broadway's basement. ten spins into a spiral and i am out fast, fill the void you joker, mascarade in and all around the plaside place and face of the broken frontier town. Call it home, ring the church bells, praise fast and all around the sight of kindoms entitled, to your brain, to your thoughts, to your brilliance, to your majesty, to your all enslaving tone, the same tone you speak to me in as you console your inner golgotha, fingering me out at the river-side bluff, alluding to our own memories, mind games, drastic plays for attentions and self-preservation. So go ahead, carry on your legacy, your driving will to self impose morality and autonomy on others, you decide these things, am i right? You arise to the occasion and hold them tight to the nuse around thier necks, the same nuse and braid i called to amend all those years ago and yet still you don't trust me, after all these years you still don't trust me , what lies you summon to fight for you, bastard child of liberate and hate.

I am gone and out of sight. So why should you care? There is nothing left in this soggy sad tale, of childhood self-defeating. The center city of my times and my observations all out of sight. So why should you care? The silent soliloquies and trending electric doom. The death and reconstruction of vast empires and deserts blazing in thier teething tyrannous rise. The unconscious attitude of millions quietly scoffed at by philosophers in dark, locked closets. The waves of our own gluttonous self classification  completely illuminated on the firing line and who had no last words for any of thier sins. The failure of our own cultivated mold, on our own rock, on our own time, surely a good place to stop this december. It's now, so why should you care?

Things will see well, said the city. No neon corpuscles. No dead-light street corners. Just me and the Five lying about which way to get home.

I seem to want to hate them all. Every last golden memory. Just find an other.