I heard a tale once
Of vapid medium matrix
And taut smiley convolutes

A tale which embarked me
At that time
Yet gave me no notion of its truer
Nature

You see
The ocean has no currents when you’re under

You see
You don’t see into your own eyes very often

You see

But the many yous that make a lifespan up
Can see you and make you see through

There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us
The one which makes crusaderies bearable
And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers

The breathtaken gasping-at-everything
Taken aback little idiot with the
Thunder in his belly
And the crawls below her skin
And the overhead waves
Evermore crashed within
Yes my meek teen rally
Once a half-contrived sin
Once my part bright moon
Of a solitary kin
Comes in all of us it seems

And we make up threads of social
For the fabric of our culture
That we start to weave adawn

Yet at dawn we are not there
With a full grown self aware

And at the solar peak of glare
We are still too young to care

Then at scarlet tap of dusk
Still a bit too tough to bare

Last at midnight we are gripped
With the fullest conscient gaze

So we can all marvel upon
How much oxygen we waste

In this marvellous endeavour

I think though it’s for the better
And I’ve slowly learned to praise
All the veiling in this system
Of Born
Dead
Then Raised
Then Very Dead

What I mean is there’s some Wise
In the grinds of our Ways
How Ethereum with potential
Gets palpable and cased

Because then we can all be
With the hardship of adult
And the vestige of a kid

And then we get to die
To get it over with…

But wait I still have something
A little more positive to say

Like the first person on Mars
Is likely still a kid
So when we get to Mars
We’ll still float in that kid

If you feel trapped in the smiley
And depressed and yesterdated
Version of yourself

It means you still have all
The other phases ahead

Yet it might not still be quite
As freely as you’re expecting
That your form will excavate
Through life’s cruel winding

Not all of us will get
To float our kid to Mars

Yes, you’ll get it All
Oh yes, you’ll get to try

But in the end, my friend
You’ll be glad you get to die.

I walk my life, a subway station
Where dirt consorts
The air around.
It pounds my nape,
It flames my mind
With sights and fates
And sounds.

Above, a tram goes up the alley
Tinged with canary hue.
Below, my wit:
What void, what valley:
It sank, in Tagus mused.

I take a seat, doors screech behind.
O, what wondrous whiffs?
Of metal beams
Attriting loudly
Against metal wheels?

To a halt it cuts my chain of thought,
Rivals my dream, they brawl.
'Tis from the gallery
Of broken hope
The beggar man crawls.

Intemperate horns his entry announce,
Dysphoric scenes aground.
He comes detuned
Near clears his throat,
Lethargic voice resounds:

I beat my cane
In wrongful rhythm,
'Cause wrongful
Was my life.
My voice hurts from
All this singing:
'Twas morphed into
A sigh.
I longed, I longed
For all my sinning
Was ought to be repaid.
Deserved so much,
God took my
Will, my sight,
My love, my
Name.

So tell me, vagrant,
What did He take?
-Said I-
Who has loved you?
What is your will,
What name did you go by?

I used to be a man of soul
Whose heart beat strong and dign,
I used to write
And then I died
On the 10th before July.

He took my coins for all my service
At wars:
At land
At sea
-The waves still have her,
Laying there still,
Waiting away from me!-
Said he-
I will my love,
My fire, passion
-My young Natercia!-
Most darling of all nymphaea!

So God is just after all,
Replacing sin with grief.
No need for me
To pay the man:
God has done the deed.

The deadbeat coins of his cup
Turmoil ever so slightly.
I leave my dream,
Doors shrill again:
'Tis time to end my journey.

Pulse of life cannot exist
Without our concentric synergy
Propelled about through the mist

Devour me.

I only ask
My bubble-gum
My evening hum
If not asking too much
Do tear this shear
I only need your touch
To air out the fear
And finally be.

My lucky strike
My gentle blaze
Grape our love
In nectar sweets
Of gods’ haze
And beaches’ breeze
Seize me.

Like I seize you
In fragile devotion
To memory.
Yes, I commit
To climbing your body
Reaching summit.

Day the night away
This time
With me.

Our beams are one
And so is our skin
Harmonized in tone.

My flicking harp
My growing distance
My grown apart
Must show myself
We’re not to be.
 
The more I write
The more I feel
With time’s cruel beat
The less it’s real.

Our waves still merge
No opacity
In added layers
Of make believe.

Between vibrations of me and paper
Fractalized into being
By doing simply
The fruits of labour
Define me.

Yet it is our love
That I most seek
Through amassed mounts
Of moments hissed.

Our passion fix
Was never real
Nor blew away
Nor meant to be.

My skinny thorn
My poison ivy
Maybe anyway
But if never worn

This love will surely
Through apathy
Against my yearning
Destroy me.

But as I live
So do we
Then we’ll make plans
But as I live
Devour me.