Adrift upon the ocean, of hurricanes and sunrise, darkest dusk and heavenly dawn. The waves they grow and crash violently, and they also settle into the oblivion of still water. A black undulating surface is stained with warm golden shimmer, like a dead forgotten realm found once again by a hopeful persistence. Warmth and color fill up the cold dusty cracks and corners of existence, but order and entropy will always dance togetehr, and thus there shall always be a lonely corner waiting for the wings of grace.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
I want nothing more than nothing
and I want nothing more than not to want
I feel so tired of feeling
feeling all these tired patterns
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Piloting a rocket propelled spermatazoon
straight into the magma core of Arcturus!
And all the while our cute society
is humming a slithery little hymn
"Dip your toes and smile along
clap your hands and follow me home."
Alas my hands are golden waves
and bridge the space
where the monolith wades
Redemption plays
the poison harp
encouraging those forgotten
to never give up
the strings are dripping
and licking the ground
where flowers grow
the land is sound
there is someone at the door
always someone at the door
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
Stream of consciousness
leftover chili on the stove top
the shadow self is fiddling with a tangled yo-yo
hoping to use the string to trip you up
at 5 ante meridiem
when you are most vulnerable and susceptible
and you thrash in your covers
maybe the next position will be more comfortable
the mental gymnastics are in town
except instead of balance beams
you'll see crooked frowns
and slimy clowns
and then the sun wakes up
from its desperate napping
that golden tongue is dripping and lapping
the blue sky which encourages happening
and the shadow self
can't wait
to trip you up
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
Fall from the greatest height
a weightless descent
through ethereal mountains
and static mist
where angels and demons commune
and rampant emotions are hungry
sliding onward
through entropic erosion
layer after layer
courage!
courage (again)
courage (where?)
is there an end?
Stop!
There you are
sitting by a silent fire
God is roasting marshmallows
"God, I can't begin again.
The peak is too high. Why even try?"
Slowly, she lifts her head
and looks at you
with a smile on her face
and a sparkle in her eye.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
How to leave the person
that you love..
is there any right way?
Can it be assumed that eloquence
could be retained
when you look into the eyes
of the person who you love so completely
and you say
"I can't do this anymore."
But in your mind,
you are saying
"what am I doing right now?"
it's like an icicle forming
in the hot coals of a fire,
it just doesn't make sense.
The pain comes in wild tangents
the pain that you induced
all by yourself
and every single time
you play out another possibility
any other way out
it is muddled with a sad desperation
a self created deception
because when your heart is breaking
a bandaid won't help you.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
You want more?
Of course you do
everyone always wants more
and so you strive
and you push
for more
never settling for simple breathing.
But is this direciton
just a mitigated distraction?
A subconscious reaction
to the subtle changes
of your very humanness?
You don't deal well
with the fluidity of existence
the unparalleled persistence
of ever present change
emotions flooding
thoughts bombarding
heart is beating
theory discarding
body thudding
thrusting and lusting
contentment oh sweet contenment
and on the heels
the clutch of grief
despair
you don't care
why wake up?
You can no longer participate
the movement towards more
you cannot initiate
but wait
upon the rays
of golden starlight
lingers a distant pang
of tired delight
and again
you want more
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
my desires cling to the undesriable
my intentions filtered through the silk of intentionlessness
futile attempts to participate
condemned to mute lethargy
and yet, a remote part of myself
is providing the musical score!
The dance is fragmented
disjointed
sweet little morsels
sprinkled delicately upon an unsatisfied foundation
and the deliberate little voice
chirps like a bird
just being is enough
all the rest is in good fun
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Yeah but he doesn't look like a normal mailman.
Why does he wear that robe?
Does he scheme? Is his life not limited to the docile act of dropping off letters into the boxes of the innocent?
He has ulterior motive, his aura is acidic.
I've already called the neighbors.
Just watch him, that robe, his intentions are not of predictability, his agenda curls like smoke from home to home.
Keep an eye on that mailman.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
For every toe
may there be 2 antennae (proclaimed God, the mighty *****
And for every eye
a tired worm.
The heart of the world
is bubbling over
it's laughing and scratching
and laughing,
oh now it's coughing.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC