am I an observer
or a participator,
this life, a reel or real
am I whole, or partial?
this is all surreal
are we living
or watching time spill
doing nothing
rotating in this cosmic realm,
starting where we started,
ending where we end,
rolling the rock up the mountain
watching it fall
traveling back up again.
what is the deal?
we know the prison,
let's dig up the tunnel.


am I a spectator,
or a perpetrator,
this death, a dream or dire,
am I fractured, or entire?
this is all infernal,
are we decaying,
or watching shadows crawl,
doing something,
descending into this chthonic realm,
starting where we're buried,
ending where we're born,
our remains part of the earth,
watching it crumble,
crawling back down again.
what is the ordeal?
we know the freedom,
Are we combusting chemical?

Time comes and goes with ease
Every living day is a renewed lease
There's no time to be sad and morose
Be happy as the hibiscus and rose.

In the glaring sun they beam
A day for them is a dream
What if it's their last sunray
Their life is fulfilled in a day.

Without complaint they think it a gift
The one chance to give you an uplift
Know well with the setting of sun
Their intended work will be done.

Why can't we be like a flower
To do only good within our power
Spreading happiness and joy all along
To be remembered as one sweet song.

I'm on a Bukowskesque roll,
pounding the poems out
seven or eight a night.
I know it won't last.
It's like a fast.
It's the hunger that
drives you.
And when you're starving,
you eat--then rest.
Not today, though;

I've hit
my stride.
And the night is mine for
the taking.

And the words are mine for
the ******.
And my heart, I am staking
on the fact
that
I will stay
hungry.