In the ancient darkness of that  rock chamber,
bats hung upside down like unrecollected memories,
startled by his footsteps flew scattering around, coming alive,
the Precambrian rocks, smelling his presence, but still without  recognition,
wordlessly  asked, "Who are you intruder, troubling our millennial sleep?"
In his  mind he heard  his words echo,"Sister dear,don't you remember?
we came from the same mother- earth- then a molten mass,
she gave us birth, then wind, waves and water separated us in our  Precambrian childhood,
you still are in your slumber, secluded from all, happily oblivious,
your journey still in the beginning, at a different pace"
**The elements took me to a pilgrimage,I took avatars one after other,
I am swimming towards light, at last,I believe,
rippling through the darkness all-round

Something awful happened late last night,
And here I lie awake at six AM
Upon the sand of Santa Monica.
The cars drive by, but I don’t notice them.

I used up all my gas to get away
From the ****** pond on my bathroom rug.
It’s more than bleach can handle and I’m scared
That I’ve found a more seductive drug.

Fish intestines line the pier and I
Feel no misery for gutless souls.
The rocks are caked in birdshit, kelp and shells
And, as if in mourning, the cormorant calls.

Upon the rusty handrails, seagulls gossip
Just like feathered girls with brains, persisting
To trumpet my depravity in savage squawks,
And to harass the rest of us for existing.

The white-wimpled, cruel, sadistic nuns
Choose an injured sea lion as their prey.
Cowardly, they flee at his sharp barks–
It’s guts that will decide who wins today.

***** creep over the brown-furred body.
Fighting for its life, it bites the shell
And kills its fellow lifeform.  When given
The chance, I’ll defend myself as well.

In Latin, verging on double dutch, names for psychological disorders
are sheep in wolves' clothing, let me resort to plain language;
invited to her harem, a rare privilege, quickly I found she has,
what I would happily  call, **"Manic Obsessive Lingerie Acquisition Disorder"

The allure of everything bad

The allure of vices that nullify circumstances which make living seem sad

The 'Hollywood' cigarette, the hard liquor... *******, crystal ****

All very romanticized but in reality, isn't that really just a self-induced slow death?

We don't talk about it, until we watch from the sidelines

If only for a second

When partaking one repeats quotes like 'it is what it is'

'I am not a quitter'

You've built up a tolerance for one, so you beckon

The bartender to pour you a second

Social trend like a hot topic on twitter

So now you want more

You ignorantly jab the needle inside you like you don't know what your signing up for

In a sense you don't, for you choose not to

Addiction entraps... but who?

Not you

And the moment you decide to go cold turkey

It appears more enticing in another movie, or in the hands of a fellow druggie

Impossible to reject

Relapse... rubber band effect

Yet even he that doesn't use gets a little curious

One day the stress becomes too much to handle, he's peeved

He's furious

He's heard of pills sold over the counter, and also of those available from dusty cobwebbed shelves

By dealers with hollowed out eyes, ghosts of their former selves

In an alternate reality

Where 'it's all good'

It's all about finding solace in one happy, high family... 'It's all hood'

A distorted image of zoned out smiling faces

Floating around in temporary elation

These vices have comforted and haunted many, way before our so called '******* generation'

The druggie, the alcoholic or the *** addict you see... could be your's or someone else's dad

Or it could very well be you or me

Seduced by the allure of everything bad

I write this expecting it to be misunderstood by many...

For a judgement between bad and good

I myself could be affiliated to one of these vices... or many

Someone reading this may have already renamed it 'The allure of everything good'.

Let's you and I
Climb up high
Into this hive
And hide our lives
Inside

We'll disappear
Into our fears
So no one hears
Or sees our tears
We're mirrors

Come with me
My honeybee
I'll make you free
Just place your knees
Upon the tree

My home is dark
It's like this bark
And you're the spark
I need to start
My heart

Our light in beams
We'll invade dreams
And float like streams
In people's screams
It seems

A macrame
Of honey stains
Adorns the face
Of our dismay
And stays

We live and die
Inside our hive
Just you and I
Til the end of time
But why?