Time from before the big bang
has not been seen or measured
in any significant way
that I am aware of.

So, I am wondering,
based on converging hypotheses
did all of this matter and energy
from our universe which appears to be
expanding and is projected to do so eternally
due to dark matter, come from a less compressed state of being,
space that had massive materials swallowed by a black hole
and became the clay and the mold
of our soon to explode
reality.

It’s a trade in
as wage men
are trading
their time
and health
to earn themselves
a reprieve
from being
deprived
of what they need
to stay alive.

But the clock
is boiling them,
slowly cooking
working men
in a stew of
exhaustion.

Good health
and happiness,
is exchanged for
lots of stress,
anxiousness,
and a mess
of repetitive
movement
impairment
paired with
pain.

Body withering
along with
a dithering
mind that
subtracts facts daily.

In aging
the dark corridor
comes closer
and the coroner
is waiting
just outside
the late night
shift life
door.

You are not here for the truth
And I am not going to lie,
let us depart with a solemn goodbye.

Fox news and OAN,
Ben Shapiro,
and Tucker Carlson,

fake newsmen
versus fake newsmen
vying for the views
of the uninformed population,
trying to defund
public education,
twisting perspectives
while being
super selective
with the message
they are constructing.

Obstructors of truth
as they misdirect
the electorate
with their misconduct;

Stir up fear and anxiety
about people who are
in the same boat
that we are.

A spendthrift grift,
cursing the gift to uplift
that empathy is
and replacing it with
vile slurs and *******.
All that bile interspersed with
the commercials we’ve seen,
cause it is a money making,
hate cultivating machine.

So frustrating
cause it is easy to see
the ouroboros,
that snake that devours itself
after it has destroyed everything else.

Anxiety stifles your ability
to see the ineffable beauty
in all the variety of diversity
that invigorates our society.

Light skin transitions to
darker shades that smile through
long limbs thick with
fat or muscular tension.

She to he, they to em
theirs, eirs, her, him
so many pronouns
and I have failed to
name all of them,
cause I am still learning.

Sometimes it’s hard to figure out
leaves us with a little doubt
as uncertainty grows to
fear that flows to
anger.

Strangers strain your composure,
especially as you grow older
and your brain grows more rigid
and your heart goes more frigid
till you are vivid with lividness

The erosion of resistance
to the love of what’s different
through exposure.

It is so late. I am so very tired
and there is nothing here to restore
the fire that burned in me before
exhaustion ran through my back door.

Inspiration would be a fine elixir,
a sweet supplier of an eternal shine
that would make me as hot as the divine
intermingling with other demon beings.

Heavy red eyes scratch the surface of
inconsequential stuff that was stuffed
somewhere under the cover of my skin,
with secrets sharper than razor blades,
that let letters and vowels bleed out in
thin spinning lines of linens draped over
my slumping sore and aching shoulders.

Fatigue makes me a nervous overthinking,
fool cowering, and shrinking from daylight,
longing for the lunar loving touch of night.

Hungry, I eat junk, but I’m never sated,
so many universes of the knowledge
split infinities, divided by eternity
still, I am a ravenous rumbling mess.

My mind is a mad mass of confusion,
foggy abstraction thinking any action
might make the slightest difference,
but consciousness is a lie of persistence,
a disturbing pittance better paid
when sleep lets strange dreamers play
and I can wake fully rested and focused.

I'm sending unending lines,
editing and accrediting
these collegial rhymes.

Inspecting and perfecting
in obsessive over editing
these miraculous words
that I was temporarily hoarding.

Trying so hard not to be boring
with my own verbal exploring,
reporting to myself about myself
for everyone else to read.

My mind is wed to
weird worlds
no one else can view,
fantasy realities,
and nightmare realms
that haunt me,
such terrible
terrors taunting,
like stairways
to primordial days
or ancient ages
were massive
sea monsters
raged beneath
the deep seas.

I walk through
windows to
grassy fields
that yield
fond fairytales.

In my daydreams,
I am pursuing
my own undoing
ungluing
all that held
me to myself.

Ancient pines,
as close as I
can hope to find
to the divine,
run rings around
the years I’ve found.

I am dying,
whilst trying,
intensifying
the neural firing
of my overactive
spastic synapses,
these bio electric
responses.

Tender digits
from children
who fidget,
take the rose stem
and grab it,
pricked and bleeding
while delicate petals,
fall and float away
fleeing the dying flower.

Waking or sleeping
it is all a dream to me.

They say an elephant never forgets,
but an eloquent man
is bound to regret
all the things that he
hasn’t done or seen yet.

He is not a pachyderm
standing firm
as he packs up
all the junk in his trunk
that he has earned.

There will be
a lot of baggage
that he doesn’t need
when he leaves,
so perhaps
he should step back
and drop those
old gray bags.

They are barely peanuts.
Anyways,
traveling light would be
preferable
because his past
though quite durable
is as heavy as
that massive land mammal.

There is nothing
more worthy
of noting
then meeting
and knowing
a woman
empowered.

Eyes sparkling
with passions,
stirring
conversations,
discovering
nations
of new ideas,
the poetry of
a soul
that reveals
new ways to
think and feel.

The strength
of experiences
translated
into
a brand new
pre-used
world view,
transcribed
behind eyes
that do more
than merely
entice
but enchant
and expand
what we
understand.