Stars blinking
Billions of God's eyes
Following one another across
A mostly vacant sky

The Moon smiles
Perhaps this is God's fingernail
growing for days until
It gets clipped

A slippery *****
To crane a neck
Staring out at
The distant explosion

Were these eyes meant to receive such an ancient light?

Universe has no taste.
With haste,
All runners run the same race,
Winners reaching their last breath finish line.

Could be chance or accident,
Either way I'm happy with it.
So much worrying and anticipation,
Just lifts to dissipate,
On such a long awaited day.

Should it be taken seriously?
I hear fickle people go both ways

Where we live it is no desert for the rains still fall.
Where we live the cacti stand tall,
proud and green Men and Women
defending rocky slopes of heaven.
Where we live the bat flies with the nighthawks,
dog fights at twilight against hordes of insects.
The lizard and snake fear a Greater Roadrunner
who laughs at passing cars, for it shall outlive
The Petrol Race centuries forward.

The Sunrise seems like The Mountains'
live birth to a bright blazed star.
The Sunset bombs a horizon
filmed with faraway layers of dust.
The milk cloud of stars and cosmic debris.
The Moon rising, a pale beacon beyond The Mesquite.

Consumer Culture makes me sick,
it burns like acid contained in
coffee cups the size of
your heart exploding.
Music that will **** your ears
for only a buck
because it is a song shaped by greed
alongside factories, with smoke stacks
acting as sploof tubes,
covering the smell of life
created just to be killed.
They have innocent eyes
an organism giving away its only truth
for convenience, for simplicity
**** your fast food,
**** your jellybean president.
Employment is conscription to join
on the losing side in the war on
your time and mind, The Double Bind.
You ought to love your country
but do you?
You ought to compete, go for the win
**** your friends, get to the top.
Do you know what the prize is?
One morning you wake up and find
that your game was a farce
and you aren't what you really are
but what you could of been.

Defend your limits.

For we are waterfalls, spinning wheels of imagination
shaping clay with organic inspirations
planting ideas in the fertile unconsciousness
Don't form beliefs, form a question.

Understand we are ice-9
collectively, we are the watering-system
We are the true god through experience mystic
disbanded stars that are the galaxies.

Properties of our composition suggests that,
you better let this water flow,
because if you don't
a world full of love
would love to strike you down
making you coo and swoon
over the symbols of a dream,
the beautiful sunflower riding a bike,
hitting a hacky sack perfectly
at the end of the day

a cup beckons inscribed with your name
are you just going to sit and stare at it?

Here we go
Here we don't

Admit defeat
In surrendering

Arms are useless
No reason in doing right things

Pointless fighting
Lashed out of friends and enemies

Have you seen me running?

No trust and
Not trustworthy

At second glance
Explicit content
Becomes Imaginary

Quickly lost my sweater
Lost my shirt

Summer rolls around
Sadly I can't help this.

We won't speak again
I'll make sure of it.

A stronger drink
In a bigger glass

I can't stand that
It's all going to break.

Needle still spins on
Without echo
Without tone
Without devotion

Laid side by side
Too intimidating

Dead branches of a tree
We still insist on using

Classical vibrations
Muted with a finger persuading

Soon we will be shipbuilding
In arid climate
Is it worth it?

Telegram obsessive
Rumor possessive

Thinking of excuses
For a second time.

Thinking of triplets
For snaking bass line.

Vagabond breath
I'm always losing.

Rip tide took me out
Walls of sand

Struggled then saved by a stranger
but
I thought you were my father.

Back to hotel rooms
Or Empty rooms
As if nothing ever happened.

I can see a stone
They put you under.

Eased our minds
That we could temporarily forget
Then find you again.

We made each other god
In worlds less than holy.

Mischievous; somewhere in between wayward and exasperating.

Expectations are aggravating;
When acceptance seems heavy in contrast to escaping.

Restraint and avoidance lacks tactics;
Both now seem increasingly attractive.

At once a beguiled captive; an observant idiot.
In correspondence, I've inadequate presence.

An incessantly sidelined wallflower.
An unintentionally shrinking violet.

Ah! The ecstasy!
The solitude of a Saturday night.
Just another sighing twenty-something single nobody.

Ah! The revelry!
Anime plays to chase away that lonely feeling.
The original soundtrack of beer bottles clinking.

Ah! Such splendor!
Vaults of immaterial wealth being squandered away.
Time itself could make no better an enemy.

Given up hope in humanity.
Easy come, Easy Go.
Do I know not of their suffering?

Welcome to my Cave of Healing.
Spontaneous self-expression is a key
to the container that is so hard to fit in.
I'd write with perspective if mine wasn't broken
or if anyone could really know what one is.

Plan to kiss no one without secret intent.
Plan to kiss no one without meticulous method
Plan to kiss no one without a hidden plan.

Now
You know
Who you are.

To think I should speak with you
Is pessimist-dismissed
So quickly
The pen drops
Before the thought
Crosses
The multiverse
Mind
Contained
In paper Cranes.

To think you would want
To want
To talk to me
Is so ridiculous
So out-there
So cover-up
Alien-conspiracy-theory
Secret-society
Cryptic-code
Cart­ography.

The phonetic
Background
Of my throat
Shuts down
Shuts up.
Vowels in my stomach
Bunch.
Curves
Of your face
Shadows of your mind
Overlay mine
To camouflage.

I could
And would love you,
Not ten fathoms
But deep enough
So
We are suspended where light waves
Cannot bend
Breaking on coral
Breaking on coma

Waking up sleeping sand.

It's nice to have temporary friends again, when they decide to visit.
Sharing stories of underwater animals from a
Viewpoint of an observer blowing bubbles.
A fish that defends its purple eggs till the death.
Sea turtles still breathe air, it seems like such a hassle.
I just want to feel weightless;
Into vacant space.

Still learning what can people can amount to:

Blurry myths of sadness anxiety
Letting go of trick happiness
Hype trend excitement
Constant detail examining
Hummingbird heart beating passion
Assumed reactions endless distractions
Occupy one-track minds
Recycling uninspired questions.

Sagacious in Patience
The Hollow and Empty kind
Finding Solitude priceless
Drifting images of third-eye kind;
I tried at least I thought I did.

              I don't
want to break;
             Silenced Glass.

Fittingly meticulous, finicky
Precisely mitigating routine
Tracing excessively
Over cornered mezzanine

Stray penciled lines
Candidly contrived
Archaic dossier
Balanced centers
Unavoidably erase

Guiltily lost the way
Confused compass oscillates
Irregularly unanticipated
Perpetually transitory

Tender heart insecurity
Ego sensitivities in vain glory
Sacrificed arrogance dignity
On the day of defeat

The clock becomes a detachable head.
Acquiesced to the ground
The fragments become priceless.
Wrinkled people grovel over the eager glass
Pick them up and risk the cuts.

Vibrations equalize
and everyone is holding hands
stuffing their distractions and sadness
into a sack
looking into each others’ eyes
blurring the faces into one
letting go is hard at first
but then after it is hard
to keep from spinning out of control.

At first sharing for simplicity
and then in a disease involuntarily
for daytime T.V shows
and self-help-how-to-do-your-life books
by self-proclaimed seers and prophets
reading the palm of your hand
which is also mine
and his.

No time
to stop
not for a second.

you are
the god
and all the questions are answered

you are the ice that covers sidewalks
warmth will defrost thought out actions,
instilling the masterpiece.

Response:
Why not look inside of you?
Are there questions that cannot be answered?
Yes but only because of detail
and the sharp and spiky squares of  
Science.


the dance we learn to stop dancing,
goes on after us and goes on into forever.
like forever may not be there.
it doesn’t seem to note or care
that the space between your two ears.
comforts my neck best
or constellations crossing your chest
constantly suggests no matter the rearrangement
no coincidences are circumstance
I’m trying not to look for it
some reality where I belong

if forever sees it has missed a beat
laughing and playing.
I so obediently repeat
what you’ve so gracefully said to me.
Life is not a sign for anything else.
It is more of  an enigmatic saying from a hermit
below a full moon
purely nonsense insane.
…but realizing the smile with which it was contained.

As if I had the patience ;
to become the faceless replacement
to endure hollow transformation.
Another ghost in Void Lust's engagement.

Much to awkward arrangement;
two hands clasp adjacent,
two mouths agape in amazement .
Two souls surprised to find that
Together they are satiated.

Eager men gather, a coalition snug in fortuity.
“Do” is their sentiment.
Vacant economizing is their doing.
Incorporating crisis trepidation intended to conceal true dealings.

A lofty story, nebulous and misty, cordially faces jeopardy.
Equality is never the aim for the uneven.
Humor them though, to their caprice show them what it means to be upright.
The uniform have no battle to fight, like the adage of the sage.
Both ponder in delicate hesitation, is this the moment?
Do I advance?
Do I relapse?
Have I any recourse at all?

Doubtful in whimsical inquiry
wishing to elevate such a state quickly,
be pleased with assumed explanations;
without debate, such a reckless undoing, will enfeeble us all.

the evening sky
was split in two
by streams of hot water
boiling over the top
of a cloud

stars fascinate millions
from the first one
to show its face around dinner
or driving home
till the moon is setting
and the morning paper
unknowingly arrives

but sometimes they are just noise
that gets captured
and is projected behind my eyes
sometimes i try to keep it there
and hope to magnify
the painting spontaneous
to collide with your soul

keep still long enough
and it starts to move you
the swing of earth
the ancient dance
that drags my feet
to wherever it leads me next.

On slick steel strings
six of them gather.
Around the electric hum box,
the muffled distortion buzzing
of suave spear-like poses

We are so green
and so mean.
The dance of divinity
in-between drum filled paradise
and a pair of hi-hat smash
the opening line to our razor's crass waving
our mantis praying

Drenched in reverb chorus shimmer
lightning dash with the blast trimmer
our boats the bass on the river melody
In reverie, Minced the mic
our barely audible voices shivering
our mantis praying

Strap stable static through magnetized
cords of magic
getting picked up on the down stroke
the shift bend pinch harmonic
capo for the overture
the reprise.

Fallen leaves in the back of the half-stack
octave raving
our mantis praying.

All is lost,
that swirls in the sand.
All is lost,
which swirls.

income
pay for the date
and living in a cab
sleeping in a body bag.

got suits older than you
and listen to this
take your mind off
track

and the record squeaked
the sound of feet
descending down the stairs.
starry eyes gazed upon oceans

sleeping through stop lights
with a pipe-bomb at home.
placing the blame
to take trust away.

living sideways
in a slide
never ending
hide and seek.

sleeping in a tent
down the street from
the next chapter of the picture
in life.

All is lost,
that swirls in the sand.
All is lost,
which swirls

Another day lofts some new journey forward.
Another mixed-maze-colony of choices being made,
some painted on walls in ancient caves already.

Carved tree trunks stand.
Influencing in mad mysterious ways,
kaleidoscopic proving ground for the mystics.

Another cigarette **** kicking in the cement ashtray.

I am muddy water settling.
Stones skipped on my surface.

People jumped and played in my depths.
Stirring fish thoughts and algae emotion.

Animals and trees kept hydrated on my pristine water.
I taste of vintage wine and drunk sunlight all the time.

Waterfall has to get away, going somewhere I've never been before.

There's no use in fighting or crying because you can always leave;
dry yourself off and erase your memory of my many streams.

One step leaves
civilization behind
anxieties reduced
wearing proper shoes
plenty of water
walk down soft paths
after awhile these
trails fade
making way for what is really outside

there are no boundaries
no roads
not a convenience store in sight

I can only speak so much for miles
of repeating desert. Climbing mountains
and feeling like god on top of a rock.
So much I've never known
is revealed to me, because
I can see for miles,
and miles,
and miles.

I've ceased my habit of cigarette smoking;
I can smell sun rays melting the tar within streets we've been driving on.
Accumulating debris line the sides of city streets,
Leftovers from a thunderstorm's retreat.

Valleys and mountains seem to have undried green
Patches and dry rivers run temporarily exhilarated;
A swelling rush through landlocked zone,
Becoming such a secretive and succulent oasis.

A Summer season like this symbolically:
Within harsh desolate heat,
Air is voraciously evaporating liquids of life,
Creatures adapted for unpredictability;
Schemes for overcoming, constantly changing.

Somewhat repeatable patterns of Summer downpour seems like a blessing.
A rather rash and quick burst, calling to attention
A reminder that it will soon pass.
Advising to allow any present moment to fully consume your consciousness;
Savoring every solitary drop.

Everything being the way it is doesn’t make sense.
A slight isolation from the world is synonymous with vacation.
Hard to believe in innocence,
When society insists it will be lost anyway.
Anyway, everyone ends up in the grave;
File away the papers and let’s have a parade.

Will humanity again retreat to a cave?
Will the debts of nations remain unpaid?

Midnights on  Fridays,
Not even in the company of strangers.
Just fictional characters seeking real life stories;
The kind with hooks that never let go,
The kind that gets ghosts to gawk in awe,
The kind that speaks of change and new faces.

New locations begetting expansion and undiscovered harmony.
Self-centered, wondering what this means for stubborn habit.

Disillusioned sage.
Sleeping cynic.

A bird that walks instead of flying.
A fish that tries to fly instead of  just swimming.

Sometimes feeling lonely.
Sometimes feeling free.
No love doesn't mean no worries.

I'm wondering now if
Tomorrow, when I wake up
I'll forget this day ever happened.

Its wake of consequence absently
Sounded in white noise voice,
Soft whispers of a great taboo.

Pathological History:
Even for Me there were nice things

Sociopath Society:
Persuaded subtle rejections of pain

How dense can conventional apparatus be?
Contriving comfortable ignorance,
An inconvenient dream.

Postured hope urgently praying for
Well behaved inevitable endings.

No one is going to purpose a toast
For ghosts endlessly dwindling
In rooms full of the living
Too scared to live.

To kids helplessly
Drunk on petty gimmick
With an authority of contempt
Held for anyone but themselves.

Taught to fear for love.
Begged to save face rather than soul.
Told that to die is to live.

This is a toast for the human mind
and the times that are deemed unworthy
of being retain and replayed like a video tape
of any hour being less significant than any other
of any second less pure than the next in procession.

This remembrance is the eulogy for
the thousands of bunnies jumping to conclusions
too quickly, seeing the high-beams of an automobile
as the one way ticket to eternity.

Let these words document the stillness
of things behind the glass
the undisturbed romp of the birds
in the backyards of suburbia,
and the still being in the dark concerning
why they use our parked cars as target practice

or the motivation behind every mirrored window suicide
only thinking of them as portals to the other side.

The blackest of eyes
penetrate the mind
the dullness of life
only causes the excitement
to cover the boredom
in which people confide in
they're not hopeless or helpless
in this slow parade
they are just blessed with the magician's mind
to convert and trick the naked eye

Oh! but no me
the cursed minority
where reality won't satisfy
the take by meaning

judges, you fool yourselves
priests, you can't justify this life
leader, you cannot change me!
friends, thanks for betraying me
lover, thanks for noticing me
me, you wish you knew yourself
teacher, thanks for encouraging
life, quit denying me

Manipulator manipulate this face
the broken hands
the finger spindles

If metal cant stop bullets
why don't we make it an atmosphere?
foil up the thriving earth
insisting that we won't be baked

but if the sun-rays keep on stopping us
and frost freezes off my face
crystal lakes are crystal lakes
but the mist in the air is raid

breathing is the anchor to awareness
did you realized that you're doing it
right now?

Infinity cannot be charted, but i think i saw a limb.

Afternoon Sun shower.
Convinced to be open minded, it wasn't strange at all.
Convinced to taste everything, the radio was singing.
Somehow privileged to experience this,
like staying up to late to see the stars
that couldn't fall asleep.

There were plenty of things to do today.
At first overwhelmed and frustrated.
A dog swam and rolled in the dirt.
*******.
*******.
Over dramatic thoughts.

Swam again and caught him with a towel.
Ran against the road.
The same speed as the giants on the interstate.
Comparisons to satellites and earth spinning.
The Car's computer didn't feel like having diagnostics.
Faked sick as to not attend the show.
Ate,
got shot but heard an embarrassing voice say "Peanut Butter Jelly"
it was over and it is covered now.

Flip Flop Psychology.
Running Civilization.
Seeing My Old Friend.

Now, just waiting for music to explode.

There are too many factors to be remembered,
In each second we are fragmented in so many ways.
There are too many mouths to feed when supplies aren't endless.
Some lose their voice if they are to be ignored.

This is a final call for freedom from memory.
The past is simple in a song, go ahead and live any aspect.
Transcendence at its best, I love the feeling of lightness.
What happened to butterflies? When nervous I only get
Preludes to heart attacks.

Things weigh heavy when they matter,
like a matter of importance.
I wish for this rigid stance to relax,
For strained hands to unclasp.

Disappointment only occupies a individual span of time
and is then overcome by satisfaction
Satisfaction is then overcome in the same fashion
A generation of fools or maybe it's just me.
Sticking to the plan and accepting
that opinion is fact
following in the foot steps of collapse
thinking they are leaning how to dance.
With so many details involved convinced Death is just
Coincidence with life
just there to balance out both sides
of an equals sign still ending up strapped
for cash and more illusions than the house of mirrors
Losing ourselves in the blind spots of despair
taking turns without looking sounds the safest way
to be a ****** for things with synthesized happiness
I want something more now than just sushi
more passionate than enthusiasm and energy.

Filling up the emptiness with all the things people told me
I should believe in and I would feel better
But soon repetitious days are ending
just as every song heard dies and dissappears
from the range of your ears
no matter the battery or modes of repetition

****, this loneliness is an accident
even though I thought I chose it
I thought I needed it
I feel like the past owes me a more well-adapted present
but it didn't and that's what they say life is
and probably will soon be asking if I make money
or if I'm somewhat satisfied
yeah, I guess so, maybe I could be
But sometimes I can't relate to pride according to my financial state
I don't need ownership over things that belong to everybody
just Imagine a real family.

Get out more.
Talk about nothing.
Revel in the sharing of vices.
Transcend the mundane in small groups.
Keep it personal.
Burn the paperwork.
Let's tell each other secrets.
Reveal our problems in search of solutions.

No matter how much is left behind.
There is so much more to behold.

Not a time for cutting corners,

Confused but at the same time eloquent,
How does she do that?

Under glorious shooting star glow,
Imaginary problems revealed,
Without discretion,
Becoming increasingly intertwined
Was perhaps no mistake.

It was destiny.
It was fate.

strike to smite the silence
the demented order
of gathered myths in our mind
a mind of collective potential
the greatest outcome could be
the exodus to nothing
and floating on air beds
and wishing beads.
Bread clouds to eat
and music is everything.

symbols were generated to fool me
and the journey wasn't a riddle
it was right there ready to be over with
it has been waiting before birth
no one completes the journey anyway
just one day
we decide to sit down on the side of the trail
and realize there are grass fields that surround us
and flowers that smell like chemical happiness
that we don't have to sacrifice ourselves for
a means to a living kind of thing.
take a break
for 10 minutes
and then for 10 minutes more.
then we keep hitting snooze to
stay asleep
for every dream

Flow of time is cruel but I have yet to forget you.
Too afraid of visiting stone monuments, where memories of you hide behind.
I only occupy my room, a room we once both occupied.

I read things I shouldn't.
I notice passages absent, lines blacked out like top-secret archives.
Anything positive now vanishing.

Sincere, heavy, and warm feelings have all dissipated.
Possessively overindulgent; even a timbre gentle white,
Goddess' voice could not alleviate my futile cynical mind.

Visceral note, I guiltily receive alone time to time.
A barbed birthday gift, spite still spilling from it.

Milk-skin and moon-eyed heroine of marvelous design,
Delusional ruin left behind;
She's all mine, I think.

No epic, a dried rose hangs upside down
Its uncertainty, turns our heads away, it doesn't
Need its love. The Sun.

It becomes crisp
because it has grown cold
It becomes limp
because there is no longer growth

Finally it can close its eyes
finally finding its way
to sleep in uncertainty.

The course deemed easy is the one that reminds you to forget
when things get heavy, suddenly turning to mist
moon face stained my eyes manifest
electric smoke ghost rings
I can feel you climbing up my spine
every cushioned vertebrae in singularity.

please, disapprove of me now
because if I go on carrying
what I believe about you
in the back pocket of my brain
my knee will splinter
my stomach will gorge upon itself
and my eyes will turn back and look at me
like you looking at me
like you dreaming the same dream


now walls imaginable
breathe incomprehensible verbal structures
that lose their meaning
in fuzzy logic
in meaningless dribble
in the future
in the past
the idea of you
and the idea of reality
where I don't have to be distant

butnowstill

I miss your sweet voice
and trying hard not to forget
so that no other person can take it
I'm trying to preserve our words
that at best won't make it
to a new age
to a world that might forget
what it means to love
and slowly be torn apart by it
to reset the sign posts
leading to the center
of a circle reset.

hopefully leading one lost soul
outside, sunrise to sunset
hopefully cracking open the book
that will never be written
and still trying to write it.

Retreats are deeper than elusive sleep.
Dying slowly, alone, in front of screens, any screen will do.
Anxious weights in the presence of people I'll never know

To be careless, like them, must be an answer.

Closer than before but still completely out of focus.
Intense wonder has served no purpose.
Bowing out, surrendering beneath thick curtains,
Never knowing true antagonists or faceless oppressors.

Sparing doubt and masks, it will be as a dream,
Without connections, arbitrary relationship is king.

Feeling Low;
Not sure if it's any lower than before.

Heavy Expectations;
Weights strapped to backs of unwilling divers.

Can't ascend too quickly for fear of the bends.
Can't descend indefinitely or I'll never resurface again.

It's unavoidable some say;
Persuaded paths led me the furthest I've ever been away.

Just one tree in the forest of many;
Suspended solitary in swaying breeze
Waiting to be turned into a magazine.

Lucid Summer dream
Moon shines brightly, a beacon
The lone white balloon

Hot Sun and Cold Beer
Valley Wind blows twin eyes dry
Grand Mountains vibrate

Summer Night stillness
Poised Glass swimming pool surface
Eager to shatter

The way I feel cannot be a word.
I want to know if some things are determined
behind the scenes, Free Will could be of concern
but here it is not for me.

Fallen ill of all the actors acting
of all the come-backings.
Where the next topic of discussion
is who is *******, fighting or some kind of disliking.

Don't know what to say
when people just wait
for an explanation of my pride,
tearing at my ego's insides.

That isn't what I've come to share
Not anytime soon.
How can you expect anyone else to enjoy the tune of your own thoughts,
if you're unable to enjoy it yourself?
Is that why you open your mouth?
At least do some filtering before all your bad ideas fall out.

Why is it always the same story repeating?

To different faces, different deliveries.

you wouldn't believe the things I haven't seen
like the leaves falling from an autumn tree,
a safe place from closed system entropy
these invisible moonbeams or sincerity.

you wouldn't believe the things I haven't seen
the atomic bomb, thousand suns' blinding clean,
logic in synchronized step to a time machine,
escaping suffocation in a submarine.

you wouldn't believe the things I haven't seen,
the conspiracy concerning love and greed,
the meaningless excusing the mean,
an apple eaten become a seed.

You would believe the things I hear,
falling, the soft drop of a tear,
lies that stem from fear,
laughing, cuts!, and disappears.

I am nostalgic for things that haven't happened
I am thrilled that the system kills your soul
I don't mind that people drop bombs
I am filled with hope as Jesus comes down from his cross
and saves me from the mushroom cloud
I find faith in green pieces of paper
I find peace in organized time and schedule
I am enlightened with spoon-fed predigested fact

Everything can't be the way we want it to
so I'm not going to take the chance to whatever I can.
There are too many things to hear about or see
so I'm going to believe in authority and what it has to say.
There are too many opinions and perspectives
so I'm going to align myself to the most popular belief
Dreams can't be achieved and passions impossible
so I'm going to save effort and get by

One day I'll be enamored to settle for someone who can stand me
I'll be generous and support wars and c.i.a coups.
I'll be fulfilled and play my part in this consumer state.

I don't know if we forgot what we are.
Items surround us
and
Ideas are shoved down our throats
That isn't what we've become though, right?

We are capable of being kind
we have the capacity for love
we can imagine the peace of a black hole
we can manage not being in power for a split-second

A split-second, because really,
that's all i think we have left.
At least for now.

sweet love for the planet earth.

we've got finance
we've got tree oppression
we've got paper moons

don't borrow anything you can't give back.
Breathing in, taking oxygen
Breathing out, give your air away
But don't worry. You won't find stares everywhere you go if you don't dress the part. So take a role and pay money you can't get because we create money out of air and magic, We make war with television and camera crews. Find your place and be complacent because if you are to be improper the camera will find it and exploit your ***** traits.
You are filthy and no more important than anybody else
and if you think you are get
real and look into a glass of water
see you are impermanent.
and that it’s okay
because rips in the earth move
and will fit together like a puzzle piece one day
the moon used to be huge in the night sky
and if you look at the water right it fills your mind
with the night
dreams materialize and get stuck under the ice
of a frozen lake
where fish are

You look through glass
ceilings but all you can see are your eyes.
black pinpoints
in a enormous grid
of slavery or love,
whatever way you want to call it,
finally being free.
if we decide. if we agree
prepare to live by the sea.

Screams like a banshee,
An old love
Outside the bedroom window
Soulful mourn
And nondescript yells.
Small notes with scratch fingernail pattern.

Falling asleep in the spiral
Green, because of trees.
Not friends anymore,
Moving onto better things
Better things are bigger.
Better things are important.
Better things are meaningless purpose.

Giving up on a lifestyle
Because of a paycheck
Into a hotel full of the dead
Where it is most hospitable
Until the realization,
That you’re sleeping in an incomprehensible lie.
Not happy
Not content.
No peace.

Only War.

War never changes
In deep voice
It climaxes
With knives
With grenades
And
Atom
Bomb
Fission love.
Leaving behind
Ruby
Sky
Death.

Silence
Is of ghosts
Until
We
All
Become them.

Became
soft and tired
of the delicate dance
on invisible glass of your
sadness

One night,
when you slipped out,
running from what is known.
nameless blades of grass slit your  skin,
so weak.

The Fear,
is it surreal?
veins strained into ribbons
to grab, and patiently untie
the knot

Listless,
you transformed
into a shell, and sat
shoreline swallowing sand, I still
loved  you.

Cyclical consumption stops here, friend,
One second has opened these eyes,
to everything new, to constant change,
and since many could not give her the time of day,

I once met a lady.

She made this heart’s pulse fall
upon eyelids, as she slid in closer
to tell her secrets, burning words to lament
this unforgivably stained memory,
some use it for revenge ,
but others don’t have such luxury.

Fear of the Ultimate Rejection,
became self-absorbed just like everyone else,
just not as clever or witty.
Constantly referencing the outside,
determining if it will help me.
In total limbo zones nothing changes
too drastically, till it’s time to leave.
Am I Ready?

At first we staggered and swayed
under the drowsy moonlight,
for what seemed like days
for what melted like weeks
and dreamt like years.

Our trajectory was sufficiently lit,
so we should not trip,
but left us with no idea
where our path would end

The adroit movement of your hand
intertwining mine,
with our fingers laced
urging the palms to read
each other ,
was enough to invite
time to stand still, and secrete

this was the moment was where I was born

and where I should die.

low:
convinced, that it is okay
to be here,
and to rot
here.

"alone"

believe
i don't deserve,
anything more

"why ask for it?"

if those high points
led to disappointment,
gotta look at them
on their own.

"separation;
no continuum."

lost in the fog,
delusional faith
that one day,
a phantom
will save
me
from
here.

"please save me from here."

everything is going to sink.
the bubbles of air will sink
the troubles will sink
rocks will break my toes
twine will sew back together
you cannot save me
you will only sink if you jump in
you will only sink.
The price of a life will drop
the money in coins will sink
the paper will rip
but mine will bloom
like a flower filled with blood
because we both bleed red
mine is like syrup
yours is like oil

i will sink.
The colors they will sink too.
my soul It will collapse under pressure.
my life will escape before the last breathe.
but it will only sink further.
like passengers in submarines
we will cry salt.
we will pray for a savior
but he
he will only sink.
your love is oil
but I am tombed in a bottle.

Could "You" stand the thought
Of who "I" might really be?
Or is thinking just not easy?
Is reflective thought just fleeing;
Instead of seeing what a well adjusted reality might be?

"I" won't change the ways
Of static servants
Cursing the waves
They were born on.

In singing, "I" would take the wrong key.
In adventuring, "I" took too many arrows to the knee.
No Justice. No Creeds.
What "We" projects, is at best fleeting.
Mapping out the moon
For a swooning future
Greedy for every last inch.

Backed into the corner
"We" are all in
The same kind of pinch.

How are "We" going to deal with it?

My heart swells with warmth,
as I find myself astray

this is when I realized
myself as the mystery

I fell in love with a witness
as I suddenly departed
from all the silly acts
I put on,
all the pointless positions
I conformed to.

her smiling face
and my empty body
felt all the factors shrink
and fall behind

the expanse ahead of us
grasped all.

it was undeniable
that should you leave
it would soon follow.

it took only an indifferent moment
to destroy the lovely instruments

however, all these stunning singing voices
continue.
off-key.

Swing along to melodies,
these resemble galaxies,
some are like we,
clusters of stars.

melting along the lazy river,
flowing along the edges of light,

if it seemed to feel right,
traveled on and on,
for nights of mindless flight,
sprawling the great expanse
in symmetric dance.

the whole lives of stars waiting for a single day.

I'm falling in love with something hazy
the vagueness just seems to invite me
a magnet energized by closed eyes
that static that charges between balloons and hair
her screaming scarred my ear drums

Alive is an everywhere
just hate to be reminded of the tricks planted in language
to fill in the missing gap
In short, double recreate reality
what is the past but a fiction
it is a sly thing
to try and love

Seeing the line of the dead makes me sad
dreary are the things they prized
like televisions
and monies
there is a circle that repeats,yet
there is always an exit

space starts emitting radiation ballads
fought and tortured on the other side of the conscious mind
seeing realization is noticing the opposites
are both equal and fragile
the line between laughing and crying
is the width of a hair and a change of mind

I haven't been thinking or living.
Living unconsciously is dangerous
relies too much on luck and money.

The world I live in is less determined
that a form.
I am the idea.
Ominous Cloud.