Falling fast asleep
Mind takes off for foreign lands
Dreams and nightmares here

you write and write until you take off onto your own orbit to await your birth,
death,
or love
- face your gods,
obey like a blind man & say your prayer:
thank you, God, thank you for being so good to me
and blessing me with a certain degree of forgetfulness & ignorance

we are left here
enchanted but unable
so disabled to
recognize
the wormholes
this paradox
is it the most misterious
they don't say
but
the moment
I become
words
I die in all letters
at once
I dissapear from
the impossibility
of prethought
curved into a field of longing
most inner of language
so the moment
my words enrage you
bemuse you
or make you wanna run
I am alive again
in your coffe
or in a jacaranda
far away

life is a beautiful mess
everybody is afraid
to say
wholeness an antiword,
they don't mind,
the mastery
of a waking U
so poetry
is reality
in a language
we don't understand

what becomes of me
we will see

When I still use my brain
Find the waves
At the source of it
Radiates
Respirates
Shapes
The discourse of it
Takes
Its exalted,
Alt-ego
Display
And devises
More challenging roles
To portray
More urgent
Admonishment
To beware speech  
Is remembered
But renders
The colors to bleach
So it’s not what I teach
No the words
Must be written
And through divine muses
Bring you to me
Smitten

I never take a position on anything since the earth is always spinning.