...At this evening nigh-tide, reptilian
brain bites back instinctively.
I am forgiven in all Houses...all postulations
bloat these blue veins.
Daguerreotype pictures cake their ashen
backdrop, that assures the comely smile
of cosmic forbearance.
As if these lips would dematerialize in search
of utterance.
Not for the entrained speakeasy of spotlit
here and now...but the energetic pulse tugged
at both ends of tongue.
The final straw struck back, to ingratiate the
greatest of pilgrimages.

The spiritual ladder is somewhat the same for everyone
"Archaic" beginnings as the spirit takes growth
Into "Magical" beliefs that fill our hearts
With Utopian reprieve

Yet the "Mythical" awaits like a principal in the next room
Wielding the Bible Belt of fundamental values
And if we were truly blessed we reach for
"Rationality" the next rung
On the ladder of spiritual evolution

This is the kicker:
Rationality leads to Agnosticism
And Atheism
But have no fear
For if you truly have the gift
The next rung will soothe your
Wayward soul

"Mysticism"
This is where you will find the masters
The Shamans
And yes, some Saints
Those who are known to live in the higher states
States of Enlightenment
The realization of Oneness
It is locked inside of each and everyone of us
It rears its presence in spiritual spikes
On the lower rung of the
Ladder Of Spiritual Evolution

So in conclusion
Only those of the higher rungs
Are the ones that we can't understand
We are not there yet
Or at least I'm not
Not this time around anyways...

These burgeoning essences--
serve themselves beyond
senses, five.
An opulence who awaits
one hand and foot...come
their late greatness.

Crescent moon
I am full with void
touching light

Light*  disrobes  with
dark  strokes--
to  ward  off­  hordes
of  heavying  spaces...
baring  of  baring­
posthaste.
How  askew  the
emancipatory  appears
entrust to lightness.

That gasping when the hole is torn
though ever slowly worn
That sudden anguish at a loss
  fire fights with frost
That deep struck wound
as lovers end
was not first born in man
But borne upon the Greatest Heart
who feels each sorrow deaper
than any creature can

For at the bite of Adam
Curse!
10 billion souls were lost
Though suspended in unatmospheric space
their eternal joy was tossed
The Sorrow of Divine
Deepest
Cruel Heartbreak

Down by the shore
I stood naked and alone
Asking my father above
Where could be my home
Why has all forsaken
Leaving me to drown
In silence pain and loneliness
My ears deaf to all sounds

The water look calm no ripple at all
No crying of waves or crashing down
In anger and dispare
The stillness it showed
Calmed my heart
Not a sound in the air

I stepped forward upon the sand
Making fists with my hands
Closed my eyes and I could feel
The water kissing me

I want to feel the bite of cold
To know that something cares
And as alone I did walk
Thinking of a prayer

None would sing inside my mind
As deeper I did fall
The cold quiet water now
Becomes my one and all

And now the end has greeted me
No longer do I crave
A kind of love that never came
My lord I thought would save

Take heed, but do
not take hold...memory
is more than can be
remembered.
From personal, to
collective... by
disjunction it will be forgotten.
As if its shapelessness were a ripple,
touching on itself to be--
to remember...till it must
adhere to the loss of its round.
Truly, memory is more than
can be remembered,
minds are drawn out by lack
of distinction.

I've seen beauty
feign ugly, to behold
what you carry.
Subject to object of
affection, beholding
itself squarely.
As the attributeless
stupor of its own light...
Lovestruck.

As a nail is forgotten
in the wood it's driven
in...confounding purposes
uphold liberating ones.
The dull aches of those
inveterate grayish regions
of a standing structure--
inversion of human proportion...
sanctum sanctorum.

The only thing
impervious to
to death & decay,
is inner space...
remain there.