I call to my own depths
and the love of my life appears
and manifests my long ago forgotten dream.

So now I live the dream
knowing it is illusive and imagined
and infused with the flavor of realness.
Yet, only I am real and it
is seen by no one that this too is
an unreality. Nothing sees itself.
Nothing yearns for nothing.
Blank void cries and laughs
at its own reflection and
make-believes its world to exist
only for its own amusement.

Come play, my only friend!
Go away then come once more
to me and let us dance and laugh
and sing again and again in being
all the varied endless waves.

I feel nothing matters.
I feel recreated and unformed all at once.
I feel my crown and throne has been usurped,
and I feel as a beggar, never knowing
the pleasure of power or possession.
I feel entirely different and still exactly the same.
I feel love for no reason
and pleasure and pain simultaneously.
I see life and death assault the senses
in each frame. I sense each moment as death
and rebirth entwined. I am the Goddess I dreamed to see
and the Devil I feared to face. I am totality.
I am infinite space as I embody the dust of Earth.
I am not and yet nothing - I can call it,
nothing, is - somehow.

I wish there wasn't - but there is
I wondered when - when what couldn't
no one could see an inception or end point
if > opposites
how does one come to one? or none?
when they decipher this will they see
how they are the same and also opposites?
one ... none
will they it she he already know?
the big stupid open secret

She says, "Crash into me, baby, and let me crash into you."
and I possess nothing, least of all things, power.
I am not. She is - nothing other than she is.
All my good intentions go to diseased swine.
I am not - her wrath takes me from here to there
and calls it nowhere. I am tossed about,
no compass, no center to navigation.
She toys with my love and honest heart;
tests me with sharks and rattlers.
Why so harsh?

For pleasure and the peace to be ever sweeter.
For to end suffering and a beginning to nothing.
I am nothing and forever trying to be something.
What else can I be?
I see no boats rocking. The sea is glass.
Nothing is broken.

the mountains cry
as you weep for a love
you knew only in dreams
a mirage you concocted
a smokey appearance
you took for real life
the world can't touch what isn't
and you can't touch what is

an old man
hunched and wrinkled
warped inward with old age worries
sits staring at a large flatscreen
the black rectangle reveals rotating images
of human bodies playing games
and human heads talking at one
there are also random brief vignettes
with people offering objects
one needs to buy to live
the man is also a black screen
but of an entirely different kind

I wanted to bury myself in your chest again
know the embrace of infinite desire quenched
to be held in your enormous arms
feel them entwine the whole of me
and fuse together with the totality of you
I wanted to forget where I thought I stopped
and where you believed you began
I wanted to cease to be as before you were
and become what I had already created
only with thoughts
though thoughts are all that make anything real
I felt your wanting wanting me like food
your longing devour me
embibing the essense you saw as me
and it was you always
making a kind of me in you you see

come to me
meet me in our special place
the place we both know
and have never been
come to me in that place
where you lose you
and I lose me
the place where neither exists
and both of us live
if living were really a thing
come to me and invite me in
within the place you always were
and I never left