The iron gear's teeth,
Like that of a wise wolf,
Grip and pull at it's brothers,
Leading them down an old road,
That circles back around to yesterday.

The man who marvels at the path,
On a warm winter evening,
Doesn't see anything but forward.
Man is not a wolf.
Gears turn in place.
Forward leads nowhere,
Within the Machine

That terran voice
Has little weight,
Is slow and late;
But voice sooner
Trade all feature,
It had  a teacher
And is other.

That like a forest
Keeps all time,
If nighttime isn't
The death of that;
For time is miles
But the people's struggles,
Where goblin has lurked
Eager and deadly.

If that is never
A goblin's measure
Nor, began that;
Is goblin at rest
But when it drift
Thought shall not near
The oldness there,
And oddness steal
Her ceaseless shake.

To whom it may concern:

Inaction speaks louder than Words,
And we were taken by contentment.
A powerful State.
Abused by those who will.
Against those who won't.

A bombardment of Distraction,
Covering fire
Stopping help from arriving.
From those other people.
Those others.
Somewhere.

If only the world were a place,
Where being content wasn't dangerous.

But it's not my problem.

Someone else will do something.

Yours truly,
         Someone

Tearing over white peaks.
Destroying in creation.
Chaos posed as order.
Mountains shift with its persuasion.

With meaning beyond it's knowledge.
Guidance gained from concentration.
Oh what purpose! What rhythm!
What beautiful destruction!

It lives in excitement and sadness.
It thrives in thoughts and dreams.
Creating something from nothing,
In a world that eyes can't see.

Within the rivers of folding Flesh
I spotted an older Man.

His arms reaching out,
Embracing a wooden City,
With few Trees on the edge.

Most of the Trees had gone.
Lost to the tiny blots of Human,
Building their tiny twisting City.

Along came a Dancer,
She too was caught in the embrace of the Man.
Of the City.

Her dancing awoke something in the Man.
His chest cracked and Sparked,
Her beauty more than he could take.

As Time tore on their love Grew too large for that Tiny City
Their whole World was consumed.
They held hands as their Life faded and

I stood up,
To place another Log on the Fire.

I awaken once more.
The loneliness of my mountain hovel a constant.
The walls embrace me in their warm silence.
The wind blows around me.
My container a bubble of stillness
Perched upon stone and earth.
With too many stories for one lifetime.

If you blink the bubble pops,
Shattering the illusion of safety and solitude.
In a second blink the perch is gone,
There is now an ocean.
Six blinks ago there was nothing.

For now i'm in between a blink and a dream,
Struggling to make sense of things
in a world where nobody closes their eyes.

Where creatures assign meaning to the meaningless.

I close my eyes.
The mind as real a world as any.
Where thoughts bring me warmth and

I listen...
Above the dull hum of electricity...
Above the whir of fans
Above the sounds of distant people whose purpose escapes me
Above the screaming of the cold wind...
Above the sirens of troubled folk...
Silence.
An inner silence.

I lie motionless
Observing.
I stare into infinity.
I open my eyes and stare into another.
My heart marks time to a third.

With this i'm reminded of my luck.
What a perspective I'm allowed!
From here alone I bare witness to three infinities.

Among these I die endlessly,
and am born again.
I smile at the thought of myself smiling,
Living lifetimes between breaths.

Oh delicious wedge

When you come to be no more

My heart aches with need