Speaking of recurring themes,
these days all of my dreams
display in pallor,
static
salt and pepper gray,
where once they held a spectrum
vivid in decadence.

I won't die screaming, though,
I
will laugh until I
drive someone to violence
and come to grasp the consequences, full,
defined in foreign definitions
I will surely come to understand.
Then, in all likelihood,
wind up screaming, anyway.

What is the commotion?
Can't you ******* keep it down?
Deception crawls &
Connivers chisel a network
Into the earth below their brains

& There's nothing you can do, so, please

Try to keep it down.
Identify the signs.
Shut your mouth &
Disengage, or you'll otherwise
Wake the beast - & you don't want that.

Let the covert lie, as they breathe,
& take a note. *******   take a note.

Don't you repeat the mistakes that keep
your mind & your heart wrapped in their affairs,
when the manipulative, & the easily led
certainly won't miss your meat, as they are
well fed in their reciprocal designs.

Don't waste your time.
Like I wasted mine.

Spider on the wall in a shower stall
Immobilized

Skeleton to the end, a somber mule
Beast of burden

Each successive time I claim
I'm in a balanced state

Surprise!
Psychoses.

Loathe
Power verb
Direct, yes
Though,
Verbose is
How I wrote

Still I write in open circles
Even I don't know what I mean. Trust.
Looping back, is there not an artistry in that?

Together
Adjective for the ages
Cut to form,
Don't get me wrong,
It sounds fitting
With the way you lead your life.

Your confines.

Look at all my fitted pieces.
I bend the lines with word as waveform.
Looping back,
Fulfilling is
As useless
As it is
Useful

If you die tonight,
which god's gonna save you?

I don't believe in a one.

So, you're telling me
you're God, now? You're nothing.

I don't believe in nothing.
Was there meaning in my birth
besides two ******* twenty somethings
playing at love games?

What's the point of human life
when existence is pointless?

Full potential of the pointed mind,
free as it can be, to discern & decide.

Are you warrior,
or are you peacewalker?

Are those the only options?

It separates us,
angel kin & demon.

Circumstantial evidence.
The urge in your eyes to **** is missing.
If we're drawing those lines in the dirt,
I see love in you.
You don't deify or deny -

- here you killed to serve,
yet we're exchanging words.

If I'm on the mend
are you mad at me?
I can quit.
I choose you,
over most things.
I am
The Fool.
Are you conscious of what you want?
You confess all your want for me, and it's sweet,
but the important details are missing.
What do I do for you? What can I do for you?
Can you name one?
I thought not,
but that's okay,
you silly thing.

Mom,

     I'm sorry. Everything about me
you see as wrong, I
see as inescapable.

     Truth be told,
I have never wanted to escape
a thing   but you.

Sorry
      sorry
Sorry
      sorry
Sorry
      sorry,
Mom,

     I just don't buy into your Yeshua.

Sorry
      sorry
Sorry
      sorry
Sorry
      sorry,
Mom,

     I wear the tattoo of the sulfur cross.
And I wear it well.

On split finger webbing,
blistered metatarsal pads,
catlike: left left, right right.
You're just over there?
You call this chasm just?
On split, sore patella,
charred hands,
the head hanged loosely,
as dead: left left, right right.
My head down, eyes up, right?
Compensation has been tendered
for the services rendered, right?

                          Right?

When I placed the squares under my tongue,
I opened up a portal in my head to elsewhere.
I never want it closed.
The mistakes I keep making once again make
a grand display on the center stage.
It's coming to a close.

Snake the internal path to a detached land,
hands and arms thrusting a T like Jesus.
I cannot let it close.
Trace the slipping blades of grass with no demand,
but to find my voice, hidden, wherever it lies.
I cannot let it close.

I'm at a stage, where stepping back reveals
my influences have transcended and become me,
when what I need, is to find myself
and then speak.

How's it going, these days?
   Pretty good.
How's your family been?
   I wouldn't know--
   I renounced the blood.
   In doing so, I kicked the sick.
   I can't make a better world, but
   I can pen an ending to this ancient curse.

   I can choose a family,
   & I chose the
   vertebrae that
   puts my spine back
   in alignment.

I always had this choice.
Now I can see it.
I can let the blood,
and guarantee the world,
I'll have no progeny.

Trust me, when I say
it's my gift
to you and yours.

;)

Light lit inside
Pulse out strong
For demons rise
All night long
The things I can change
Don't seem to help
My power is out
I clap my hands
I remain devout
Not to a church
Not to books
To true justice
To people
So when I need strength
I whisper my prayer
Broadcast the signal
Out over the air
Absolute knowing
It clips wing in flight
Weavers together
Convene and survive

So,
you're needy
and want me
to know?

Well,
if I felt
goodness from
you, I. . .

(take a hike)

Knowing what I know today,
I'm torn between honesty,
and never saying anything.

Pulling from my memory,
I recall expression
as a natural efficacy
of mine.

Fill me with love again,
love as the willingness
to speak as easily as
I can accept my errs.

Knowing what I know today,
I'm torn between standing out
and fitting into the crowd.

My slightly younger self,
saw my much younger self,
thought, my far future self
wouldn't have the gall.

My slightly younger self,
saw my much younger self,
thought, my far future self
wouldn't have the gall.

I'm torn between standing out
and fitting in, and surprise,
I did say it again.

Caught your long lost locks,
blonde through the silver fog,
flitting away or
could it have been toward?

Once, I would have thought
it's just a dream and not
real, warm flesh to flesh,
volcanic breath to breath.

Best not waste a good thing
in the face of your favorite catch.
A master of their craft
can't manipulate the longing pain.

Fantasizing everyone
Sexualizing everyone
And why?

I am alone

Fantasizing everyone
Sexualizing everyone
Again.

I'm alone
And I

Devote myself to life as if to keep
The stars promised of our destiny
Safe and strong and confronting
Their mirrors with the proper self applause

Alone.

I contain a fire, the raging heat
The signal pyre, Autumn and the Spring
For heat, I chill with my demeanor
For cold, I prefer to warm your
Goosebumps with my open mouth
If permitted take the walkabout
To linger with my fingers down your leg
If permitted, take the hidden way
To kiss your heart and light your path
With the source of all your worry
Nurtured between my lips

Fantasizing everyone
Sexualizing everyone
And why?

What connectivity is left to crave?

The men who back their friends
Into corners after arranging
Clandestine ******* after
Clearing out the place to have their way

The men who stand with ****
In hand, pathetic and commanding
Limp of love, and targeting
The the light they view as weak

I was made just for that
Assembled in a factory
As an indentured guide
To lead to the promised land

They drew up my design
Schematic with *******
And motherly empathy
Perfect for abuse
And a ***** perfect
For dysphoria
For when I learn to love myself
It reminds me I'm
Armed with alarm
And filled with the fluid
The learned are simply right to hate

Alone.

Lose a tire? Tires,
they come and go.
Do you have a grip?

The wheel works, but,
what's the point
if the blue sparks fly?

Some words stuck
well inside this
sternum of mine
just need be said.

What's the point of
you and I, then?
Are we always safe?

What's the point of
this fear of life
when I'll soon be
nothing more than dead?

Hold your eyes, then,
til the heart arrives.
Sparks cannot fill
me up inside with dread.

Regret.
I drank mine.
Illness.
I smoked it.

Ill conceived &
         imitation.
My mind bent &
         snapped in half.

I can see your eye in every star.
Watching while I enter chrysalis.

         What's it like
         hoping I rot?
         (will do)
         What's it like
         laughing
         looking
         at the past?

Sober, I have to force myself to laugh.

I can see your winking eye in every light.
I can see your winking eye in every star light.

****.

What do I have to do
to get through to you:
I do what I must to survive.
Send thanks to any god
you dream and believe:
Shame is sitting still, smoking ****.

Do I
just get by?
According
to the
world
at large, oh
yes, oh yes.

Do I
just get by?
According
to me,
the
world's gonna
end, oh yes.

If you want to waste your mind on me,
that's fine --
I'll be using mine for feeling,
and I'll be full to satisfied.

What do I have to do
to get through to you:
I do what I must to survive.
Send thanks to any god
you dream and believe:
Shame is sitting still, smoking ****.

Scanning
racks and shelves
for any
piece of
me
in what you
have here made.

Scanning
racks and shelves
for any
precious
piece
of yours
to ruin   with my appreciation.

If you want to waste your mind on me,
that's fine --
I'll be using mine for feeling,
and I'll be full to satisfied.

Start the day
the only way
that works for me.
Lighter, light ****.
Massage ball, get my shoulder free.
Lungs, please, do continue.
Carry me through dance.
Tighten the strings
of the universe
through me,
from my feet to my hands.

Here we go again, pain.
How long, now?
I love you more
than I ever.

How long, now?
How long's it been,
since you've loved me?
Did you ever?

I'm not upset.
I'd rather have these
frequent sleepless nights
than have a dream.

I'm not mad at you.
Could I possibly?
I'm not upset.
How could I ever?

Offer
your direct,
calm gaze
as if you
see my
potential
just as
I see it.

I've not
seen anyone
with deep eyes
read mine, then
seem to find
meaning. . .

since the last time.

Offer
my direct,
calm gaze.
I notice
you see
the loose string.
I see
you pull it.

I've not
seen anyone
with deep eyes
read mine, then
seem to find
meaning. . .

since the last time.

Give me brushes and
something colorful
not tested on
a thing
with a heartbeat
and watch me go!
I love me.
I know how
I like      to look.
Think that this
face is
for you?
Think again.
Think that      This Face
is for you      and your. . .
Think again.
Think again.

Grind you up into portions.
Serve you up to the horde.
What was
temporarily
yours,
will feed
the meat
of
the future seed.
Sure enough
the scene
before the
excited mind,
the silent mouth,
shall
seemingly go
completely
unnoticed
til the matter mounts.

They,
they call me greedy,
exclusive,
taciturn. . .

That I've learned
from my disease
--chronic listening--
which voices
I'd rather not hear.

Most of these sing song smiley faces
beat you to the punch as if they're racing
past you after a ******* badge.

You want a badge?
Well good for you.
Go online and buy one.
They said "spill your guts"
And So you spill out *******.
Thinking that you're making friends,
while I'm hard pressed to believe you
would be believed by anyone worth friending.
You want a badge? Good for you!
I'll make you a deal if you decide to buy one.
I'll pay the cost for the custom laser engraving:
"Sheriff Big ****" in the land
of      "No      One      Gives      A      ****"

Come to think of it,
I've strung a string of selfish lovers,
since the first lover to covet my heart.

Enter the present,
I'm of the morose understanding,
the cutthroat waters of the waking world. . .

Temper the mind to take,
raze, and ****.
Take
        Take
                Take

Temper the heart to quake.
Quake
           Quake
                      Quake

at the fulfillment
of practical demand.

Quake
           Quake
                      Quake

on bended knee,
in dream,

for love for free.

Shower, you
touch me, still,
hotter than
clumsy fingers.
Clumsy advances.
In the water,
I see shapes
rising in steam
built by the
confidence
I can manage,
alone with you,
when I sing.

. . .

Lights out, cast a dark net.
Got the      yellow lights outside,
though,
catching my plans
on the
unbalanced heel,
but the      assisted glow
just makes my. . .
my aura cut out
a visible,
protective shape.

More than this,
in the music,
wearing my skin,
proud, yet naked,
I
      bravely emanate.

Oh ((oh)) Oh ((oh)) Oh ((oh))
I won't live forever.
Oh ((oh)) Oh ((oh)) Oh ((oh))
I just want some      infiltration.
I just ((just just)) I just ((just)) ((just))

I just --
wait. It's no meager thing.
I'm no meager thing.

If I got a headache
every time someone wrote about natural beauty,
I'd have an aneurysm.

And now I have one more.
Headache.

I'm still waiting on the aneurysm.

If I
told you
what it is I want
like you
ask I tell,
would it matter much?
Matter at all?
You forget
over
and over
we've ever had this talk
so if open up,
spill my lair for you,
how I am I to find the confidence
in spite
of the fear?
And I
ask you
to give me a hand.
Explain
what it is
that will satisfy.
You agree to air.
Close your eager eyes.
Wake. And forget.
Until it happens again.
Every single bed time.
Til I hit the grave.
Pinpoint.
Comet style.
Crush the earth.
Leave a bitter hole.
Never quite sure if
I'm hurting myself
or hurting someone else.

all this time, i've yet to come to terms with certain words
for instance, design, and all of its nuance
how do i design in true
when i am a shard of
azure experience in the
endlessness of midnight blue?

all this time, i've yet to call my good form to return
for instance, my designs, and all the nuances --
the water drains, shallow now,
from my composition,
as if i'm the desert, when once,
i was my own oasis.

reflection is a given. still,
how can i reflect this ill
in good faith, when the
poisonous sick saw my
leg up ascend into ruins?

shouting
die 2 try?
try n Try
try 2 die
laughing?

n if you have a clue
pork who watches you move
will be taking notes
this ***** knows how it goes

n if you have a plan
pork who watches you move
will catch it, understand
this ***** is stealing souls

keep it under the knife
surgeon and patient
simultaneously
ship and astronaut
in E.V.A.

clearly, the days slip past
i nearly lasted, keeping track
tags and descriptions, each one placed
as if a benefit falls upon the lot
for drawing connective lines
god's dead, god's not dead,
i'm god, the god of sand,
ephemera at my command
but what's it mean? these things
take time, but not seriously, because
the sun hits the wax on a paper cup
and it blinds us from the bushes
and so low, can't care
so low, lone, done dead
can't care for upsides
but asides and sideways

i know well the fear as it manifests
in the dampness come night
dollar bills burn hot in pocket
the reddened skin of my inner thighs
fights to fray the cloth, but i
i'm better off sleeping in my pants
and my shoes, as to evade
then this thing clicks and the misfit
cuts come to fall into plan
by design, without fail, buy and sell
then there's me, this thing replete
with confidence in its destruction
by its hand, or on demand, its a
matter of course                  lightbulb!

take a poor, fat, spiced chocolate kid
from its welfare house
put it in a program with rich kids,
tell it it can be just like that,
if it learns critical thinking,
logical reasoning, communication,
and problem solving.
can it?

[falls asleep in a dumpster]

that feel when you crawl out of your dumpster, and see your **** neighbor in a bikini at the community cesspool

for all my preparation
this project begins to slip away
what if my great fantasy
hinges on a banal happiness?
the ink of ballpoint pen
takes me as far as sorrow's edges
i confess best to myself
wetness skin to skin, with sweat's sweet and
sour accompaniment is as close to happiness
as i can steer this sinking ship
as of late there's nothing left
of the sweat to cleanse my dead palate

this ******* thing came to this:
two brains, sever and split.
two pigs, top of the town,
made marquee marked on the ground!

punctuate!
i'm smothered, but
the fourth wall's
done getting scraped!

version one point one was nothing new,
these scrapes make room for version one point two.

portal space is open,
in a purple swirl,
and I'm
****** back into a world

on the brink of an advent
toward some higher mind,
with a blessed perspective,
this recollection's wretched.

Levity was a given,
for mortality ignored.
What to do with levity,
with mortality accepted,
and endings implored.

last laugh always wins
(where are your friends?)
have been deemed unnecessary
everlasting grin
(how off have you been?)
have i?

no. have i?

what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right of the left hand black?
nothing will. nothing will.

what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right track to get connected
with the rest of them?

nothing will. bad brain bad.