I wish i could ask someone this question
"is god so bad?"
without hearing a pre-programmed
yes
or no

i want to hear the gears shifting
and see their eyes lifting towards the sky
with one small tear drop
because they accidentally gazed at the sun

You know
the familiar face of thought spiders
spinning webs until all is said and spun

and i want them to ask me why i asked
a question that has no answer

why i asked a question
whose only purpose is to demonstrate how right i am

why i'm so pompous

i want to be left speechless

they say that time flies

they are wrong

with every second that I spend

with you

I know that they are wrong

it is us that fly

it is me

it is you

they say time flies as an expression of its limitless nature

me and you have no boundaries

we are

when we are

where we are

we

are

always

they say time flies

but with each tick

with each tock

I am sure it is us

we fly

we are

infinite

I couldn't tell you why
This man is here
Or his purpose -

I couldn't tell you why
I am here
Or my purpose -

But March is cold & unforgiving
and mean
and map-less
and my world has Tommy gun fists
and I'm it's ******* son
I felt tied down & freakish

I wanted to get away so badly

and he had this fast car.

It's not to get medicinalized,
It's not about analyzing or string theory or computer programming,
When they're not trying to be funny but you're laughing,
I'm facing you because you're talking and I don't want you to be alone in your head
but I don't want to be in your head with you.
So I'm quiet.
And I'm analyzing in my head something way complicated
when the atmosphere is simple.
I don't dare to speak.
Because I don't know what will come out of my mouth
or if it's true.
I quietly ride the waves
of knowledge and complication and the complex simplicity of the song that's playing.
I blindly ride the waves
and I don't hold my breath when they're over my head.
I quietly sink,
but only in an armchair.
I'm still facing you because you're talking,
but I don't know the topic of the conversation
because I was surfing and
someone is waiting for you to answer their question
and I'm nowhere near the front of the line.

am i to think
i am the only
one who finds
sharing bodies
to be sacred or
was that lost
am I just

dreaming.

Let me provoke you.

Let me stir you.

Let me make,

           That chair you are sitting in,

Not as comfortable,

               As it was a second ago.

Move with your words.

Write your heart.

Get mad once in a while.

Feel love once in a while.

Witness beauty once in a while.

Feel disgusted once in a while.

                    Let Me provoke you.

Let me stir you.

             I want to make you cringe!

I want to make you move!

              Write!

                      Write!

Write like Shakespeare,

      But curse like Dangerfield.

Provoke Me!

                               I want to feel your grit,

   your emotion,

          your constant devotion.

Write.

I once wrote about an independent life
in a reality where I supported myself on
letters from the cute mailman, salad and
eggs, where although time was constricted
my heart wasn't, and I could be happy on
a diet of keen understanding and wisdom.