Time tricks the mind, makes
short things long, long things short.
I suppose I'm a duration of sorts.

Be here now?
Be here soon?
Are ghosts lost in time or are they confused?

Are pictures of the past meant to remind us whats medium, big, and small?
or are they nothing at all?

Memory makes an author out of all of us.
Don't fight the fiction
you'll lose every time.

time.
again.
It's everywhere isn't it?
It's always as well.
hmm.

is it pixels on a screen arranged in number type?
maybe the sun on your back, or is it in your eyes?
Perhaps I waste both yours and mine in trying to define.

Ah!
But there it is.
It is held self-evident of time;
fleeting, final, finite.

So if given the option between
dark and light;
fear or flight;
dormancy, eruption,
respite?
you had better ignite.

It is Christmas Eve.
I sit idly, in slight discomfort on this wooden pew.
A glorified bench if you ask me.
I remember being a child, blissful and reverent.

I memorized sacred stanzas of prayer unaware of their meaning,
chanted them with everyone else.
I always thought God had excellent diction.

Now though I am puzzled.
For an American culture so ethnocentric, patronizing rituals in the third world and of other religions as silly;
Their own rituals are quite silly.

Transcending the mystery of creation for a moment now: having figured this a charade for the generational reproduction of virtue and morality inexorably ******* in the Americanization and Assimilation of society, that we might all move in one direction. That we might all create family units, buy houses, white picket fences, watch television on couches with children and consume, consume, consume... I deem it acceptable to be immoral.

Hymnals couldn't be more of a bore to me, prayers are empty.
But the girl three rows up is filling her dress quite nicely.
I wonder if she also is despondent, if her eyes wander.
I take a mental step back and realize how many girls are wearing high drawn dresses.
Are they showing off their flawless legs for the lord? Surely not.
They dressed that way for me.
The three rows up girl looks astray and catches my eye;
for a moment we have found our savior.

I make it a point to kneel next to her for communion,
brazen enough to tell her "That dress is something else."
She blushes and shoots me a seductive smile.
"Yes I'm wrapped up quite well aren't I? Only missing a bow."
Holding the body of Christ,
"That shouldn't be a problem, I'm quite good at unwrapping. These dexterous hands of mine."
Her body shifts to the left, her sinister side against my right.
I watch her take a rather large drink from the blood of Christ, she places her hand over mine as she braces to stand.
Our eyes flicker on again for an instant as she turns.
I'll be finding her.

The golden goblet seeks me next.
Bad wine posing as blood.
Like all these christian's faking it, it's quite suiting.
I wonder if they really believe they are drinking human blood?
And eating human flesh?
******* zombies man.

I haven't loved anyone in over two years.
I find it empties me.
Bereft of all but a theft to recall
her hands were sleight but soft
And I, alive at a cost.

we wisp around my room at night
you become the walls.

My eyelids spin me around a reel.
The film is worn from use and time
but the pops and crackles warm me like a fire.
From inside the theatre glow my chest begins to float.

Have your veins ever felt like runways?

I don't know what to do from here.
It just seems as if the entire world is fixated on some infinite screen.
So all encompassing, yet images flicker in fantastic frivolity.

Such absolutely aimless anomie
erodes the mind, heart, and soul of everything.
To the point of true societal insanity.

Where we'd rather chemically synthesize the taste of an apple,
than to plant an apple tree.
Nations wage wars in the name of peace while
Corporations, not people, enjoy freedom of speech.

Is this what it means to be a human being?
Are we encoded with DNA or with binary?
What of your beating heart? if it still pumps.
Or have your cells of blood all become zeroes and ones?

Do you look out upon the shimmering sea to be humbled and awed?
Or do your eyes map out it's marketability, growth index, and overhead costs!?

Oh, what of a metaphor for societal insanity.
To depict society as an orchestral piece;
They are all strings vibrating in the very wrong key,
resonating on a global scale in such horrific harmonies.
Yet they'll incorporate,
they'll advertise,
they'll trade the stock publicly!
They'll call it a symphony.

All at once I woke up to the world
and I fell into it's mouth
It chewed me up and spit me out
but I felt wisdom in my wounds.
and the truth I'd thought I'd found
Left me doubtful, no doubt

But when I look to the sky
should I feel humble or obliged?
To shrink down to size?
I'd hope that there's more to life
Perhaps even a bit of flight
I'll show that sky yet, I will
I've got dreams to wake up from and fulfill
And if the sun does shine, I'll be brighter still.

¡Este día es viva!
The world will surely be mine!
Right after I hit that snooze button one more time.

Everyone's a cartoon
                                    Everyone's robotic
                                                         ­          My mind spins the loom
I unravel


I'm Tangled, Tied, and Tense
                                                 You have soft eyes
                                                            ­                        I'd go anywhere
To feel that starlight


Andromeda explodes
                                    good vibrations
                                                     ­            Senses Overload
Just take it all in


Fight the phantoms
                                  Fight the phantoms off
                                                             ­            Fill up with rainbows
Let the colors out