The night sky is an octopus
whose beak of void-shining ebony conceals
the sun who is an owl
turning round its head, chasing lightning eels
swirling figures backlit against the nothing
when it blinks the species beneath it passes
onto tendrils of cosmic unbelief
stepping over the flat circle of time en masse
one eye peering from the moon; a stone relief

The sun has a broken neck
as head over foot hurdle star-water divers
ever probing endlessly in check
always more, no threads left for the Godiva's
no cats or swords for the fish who flounder and sputter
dust of bones of their ilk left in the sand when on land they will mutter
awe- this is profound, there is snow in the sky
the relief wells with a tear in the cracks there of the moon-
if there is snow, then the ground cannot be dry
if there is water, this can be home again, soon.

Reflection, introspective question, echoes "Dissonance..."
this distance, fist, fuel pump Death's liplock on cognizance
cogs ground to halt, acthung in their tongues whipping ignorance
pale snow like corpse-flesh rest and rot on the ground
thunderous, the sky fills with one overpowering sound
exhaustion, bleaker cracks than ever on the porcelain eye
behold this, the greatest show you cannot miss
give us a kiss, death give us a kiss, expel the spirit and leave the lie
screaming for a blanket, notes plaster the walls and ceiling and all the clashing concords are parabolic bliss

With your sugar skull aloft and looking down
all these jesters dance to entertain one clown
the paint wears off their faces, no presence
no dignity, no disgraces, they look into the mirror and say this
"Courage..." comes from elegance over using power at every chance
while cold water runs off with the colder blood that seeps from the cuts in their hands

Star fire!
Molten and liquid and poured into the gullets of each of your foolish and wicked, cruel and detestable people
if no person ever lived, who is to say if the universe would ever know such things as evil?
The pomegranate complexion of these brazen, emboldened, boorish and bombastic beings
I curse their granite introspection with blazing, untold and traumatic things
burst them and wither their seeds to nothing, all that I regard of them in sight
death kisses are the sweetest for they offer final release from all mortal pains, and carry you off into the eternal night.

Dig fingernails into palm
an aura of rage disquiets calm
teeth ground finely into dust
an era, an age broken chains of trust
breathing air freely, finally through a punctured lung
who are you that bites your thumb, saying I must bite my tongue?

Bide your time, for what is life if not time over reality
and reality if not perception over varied experiences
one balled fist, cherry-red knuckles, raised bottoms-up, always lowly
always knowing to go right to where the consensus of common sense is
steer the path of wrath, answer when the brass rings with theoretical equations in moral math
the shortest distance between two points is irrelevant when every minute of every day
is planned around the uphill struggle you have along the way

Ideas to further us,
wayside trinkets for those who follow
let the mad do battle with the angry until they turn murderous
they reside in the misery leftover of concrete; now mires of mud to wallow
admirers of survivors, secretly in love with a disaster whose burden laid on them here and now is not one anybody should be asked to master
you cannot prepare to lose everything, bunkers, guns, armor, nothing you have will make the pain pass faster
fate is an excuse abused by weak will and minds, they surrender the consequences of everything they do, that is done, to four letters

I have heard the worst and best moments of my life were fated
these notes, passed in sympathetic epitaphs from retired, retread hatred
the energy of the young man who would see this blue marble lost with all the rest
is refocused, as through a prism of detached and severed disinterest
I feel much older than I am, and like a sponge I absorb the colors and sights and sounds of the natural world around me
as I train my train of thought to stay on track, my wild emotions would wring me dry and misunderstood reactions would confound me

The virtue of solace just at arm's reach
never to fall too involved,
but to survive and inspire those to uplift, with an aligned love for each.

You will die unloved
scrawling lost letters to the world above
in your casket ceiling
because you let us down
a bitter feeling, grieving; healing
breathing, while the noise drowns


You would raise your silver high
clench your teeth, grind goodbye
another beast asleep to the tune of your poisoned lullaby
with fists of gold when you say hi,
all their hearths and kindness shy away like passersby
the rot of lies, the growth of flies


What good will all of it do
look now around you,
what is all of this worth?
A pyramid is astonishing now, true
but it is only another tombstone withering away on the earth


That lump in your throat is the sand of disconnection
discontent and disrespect, disproportion, disillusion
like the hourglass it runs out upside down throughout our lives
were it not for all these things like a rope bridge of nooses, traversing a river of knives
think of how we might think freely, move as individuals, untethered and harmonious
no chosen few, beliefs, politics, tastes, race or class denied, human beings: all of us


Without the need to fulfill another need, to purr like kittens in a lap of luxury
we might govern the world with no debt to these walls and commercial anxiety,
that's why paradise makes people so happy, but it'll always be a daydream to me
to solve this infinite dust puzzle and repair society at the root of humanity
I can be fine with the love of myself and mine, one stone at a time removing my vanity
even if the end of it will never be, it's the pursuit of being and letting be
you will die loved, even if it can't be given, felt or known
if I could become fine, finite dust, one speck for everyone to see
with only the essence on each flake, to show that no one is alone,
I would give myself away with zeal, hope, and love for all of us, each and every.

Love yourself and all around you
may kind-hearted intentions and good company surround you
may you eat your fill of good food and then some,
may you rest in comfort and wake refreshed
and may you enjoy a day, if one, and feel that you are blessed
I ask nothing, encouraging you to share warmth and hope
and I believe that every person together can overcome any test
this is what I wish for, not peace forever, but peace for a moment
and peace, in that moment for everyone.

Saturn returns to shorten the day and stretch the night
once more to swallow his son; a stone replaced
what was sewn is harvested, a star tells their tale bright
Jove survives by deceitful, maternal good nature and grace
over the Omphalos of Delphi let their story-dance twirl the world with might
and bring the blessing of mistletoe to a cold, red face
before we call upon our druidic priests to  set the yule log alight

Of your columns, the reaping of your memory
I hang all manner of shine and shimmer
in honor of the infinite cosmos and lost souls, rest peacefully
no offering in your name, of mine that glimmers
matches the splendor your brilliance lays over the land on me
the beauty of silver when it glows, ethereal, like heavens minted a glint, but a taste of a coin
divine on the eyes, deriving all other senses of pleasure, the appetite, envy, I must purloin

I forgive all wrongs I have not stated forgiven, all grudges not made known released, I release
all debts unpaid to me, I won't collect on them anyway, I only have only seven days as mock king to do as I please
with all of my heart and only a few words, I love all unmet and unknown, readily forgetful of foul history as a blink's worth of wing beats from mocking birds
we may be prisoners for the time being, but our prison is a construct of our mind
freedom is a time-being, you must make the difficult and responsible decision, conflict is no contract, possessions are no bind
where you are, what you have, these are grains of sand to the hourglass of who you are or if you are content to be resigned

In exile he was peaceful, a father to Picus, a teacher to his people
they celebrated him, turning their stigmas and laws upside down
that Saturnalia, slaves were masters and one condemned prisoner wore a crown
for 7 days from the 17th of December, the poor were rich, the lords served peasants and every night was a feast to remember
on the 21st they cleanse the bad luck of the prior year, sacrifice and offer to the gods for all those who have died here
they all are in awe of the moon, the sun and stars
Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun, who is greatest among ours
on the 25th we celebrate Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, the renewal of the sun,
we rise to observe King Helios, light bonfires, offer sacrifice, feast in accordance, and decorate before we're done

They changed the world and stole the fine details
gawking at the planets now, 800 years passed,
that we worshiped until our eyes were torn, controlled and our gaze was cast
until we were stolen from our gods, who return to us at last.

Of mediums: the body
am I strong enough now?
Am I proven?

Iron drizzled double dips into existential bags of dreadful tricks
rung out rags of wry ideas, tonal shifts falling flat from fingertips
shredding themselves to life to fall from my lips, a knifed-tongue licks
impaling spears sinking meaningful 'ships, I babble on, anything to stir the rabble on
a dashed line is drawn, I hold a hatchet, I'm no genius, no political ploy for relevancy
nothing I say from this pulpit is preached, it doesn't reach the level of spirituality
when I speak from the heart, the beats reflect defeat inside of me,
I can hack it, not for the need for fighting, for the love of writing
so faint and far away, I can hear the dead cheer in support,
why twist an ear around upside down to listen to the past, release the effort, it'll only hurt,
achieve through growth by reach, that doesn't mean you have to contort
I suppose I'm at my upmost, I've got a feeling I'll never see the rooftops over the ceiling, I'm that sort

So I took an ax and bashed my left wrist, belt tied off at the arm between my teeth like you see on TV
cut my skin and barely bled, I don't know why, maybe to see I've still got the iron for the misled who believe in me
not even sore, a few days and I feel like I'm just a fainter echo of the searing roar I once was; painless and aproblematic without noise and challenging views anymore or
blissfully being unaware of the world of opinion, only open-minded to leave a crack in my door

Time travel is the same to me as if asking if you had one wish, within the limitations it is akin to carnal sin by the temptations
the implications, unforeseen ramifications if you step on one blade of grass and change the past
when the future is the fool's gambit, it's always a second ahead of you, you'll be lucky to see it if you only last
getting lost in all the hunger and forgetting the hungry all beside you, this I resent and all it represents is ignorance
where base needs are met, focus overcomes harsher tests, meditate, achieve necessity and find generosity, as a well-being may be a gift by their presence.