the incentive for truth is self-fulfilling prophecy

we have been lied to in circles
and led to believe time is linear
but the end does not justify the means
circles have no end
                                   or beginning

before any axioms are presented
start with why
                           why ask the question that leads to the answer
                           why seek the answer that leads to more questions
the axiom is bliss
now dismantle the argument without lying
          to yourself                                                  to the future
                                       to your neighbor

why ask?                         -knowledge
why seek?                       -wisdom
why teach?                     -clarity for the cycloning circles
this means       before our end
the collective should know
                                     know- who, what, when, where, how
why?                                -for the sake of prophesying
                                           for the sake of manifesting

there is no timeline where stupidity
is a virtue
and we are past axioms
so ignorance is inexcusable

in the Salem Witch Trials
girls as young as 4 were murdered for fear
  of their magic
fear kills more dreams than ignorance or stupidity

the incentive for truth is self-fulfilling prophesy
so how dare we shatter the mirrors
and nail the windows shut

lonely streets of sidewalks

and crossing the cracks
your heart beats for a heart

that beats no longer for you.
  
double crossed
and the cold fire is calling,
the cold fire burning,
a flame frozen in thought

and a wilderness of shadow

and the wild dog howling
into the wind,
the night howling like a dog
from within your heart.

the white flower pedals slowly falling
like snowflakes

and the gulls striking the top of the sky
and the vastness, stars adorned,

the white flower pedals falling
like snowflakes.

those flower pedals,
and the night blows Claire a kiss.

I dreamt I was just walking down a street
When suddenly a lot of people came rushing out of this building
They were all shouting madly “Shooter! Shooter!!
They were running past me quick…frantically screaming
I thought I better start running too
So I turned around and started running after them, following them
But I felt somehow that I was slower than they were
A lot of people seemed to be passing me out
I thought I must be really falling behind
I felt I was bound to get hit…bound to get shot
I was almost waiting for the bullets to rip into me
I thought maybe the shooter himself was coming…maybe he was right behind me
Then suddenly I heard these shots ring out just like firecrackers
I thought maybe I should fall down and pretend I was dead
If only I could rub some blood on my face…on my head.

Searching for Galileo,
    the race to be first home,

In a sea of patients
    we climb the probability tree,
    walk upon the shore collecting
      memory shells,

We win the little wars,
     lose the big fight,

These windows are breathing apparatus,
     this ceiling, a blur of tungsten sky,
     rain, tears, weep,

To rest near to you,
     the technicolor sleep,
     and I died with you,

All farewells are sudden.

I know,
I'm not good,
No need to point it out.

Tears in eyes,
waiting to fall,
lump in my throat,
trembling hands,
and an insulated, aching heart.

"Don't cry",
"You're strong",
"We'll be the best too"
the minds says,
facing the quiet mirror,
having tear-edge eyes.

I know,
I'm not good,
No need to mock.