What do we learn
when the knowledge
is turned
to scraps and ashes?

When the past is
less than prologue
cause everyone
was encouraged
to forget all
but the bright
moment,

pleasures pursued,
seconds wasted
being used
as a consumer,
as another tumor
so ingrown
that it can’t be removed.

Rush, play,
point, click,
sleep, eat,
work your life away,

and if you are unhappy
or to tired to do your job
if you feel
slightly unwell,
well we got a pill
to push all that
anxiety
away from humanity.

Until, the still pond
no longer reflects
the wonder and awe
of the artists
we once were.

Humanity
is a wisp of tail
that fools follow
tripping on the trail
of stupidity.

The night
is a torn tapestry
where celestial bodies
burn beautifully
incinerating
the cosmic stitching
that bind us,

quantum energy
unraveling
all of reality,
as I stare
stupidly enthralled
by the awesome
complexity.

Silvers spheres
of gaseous spirals
spew atomic fury.

Other poets
and painters
have presented it better,
such a sweet
starry starry night
made to delight
all of us,

but this time
I return
my reflections
with the love
and devotion
born of
a dreamer’s
dark predilection
to romanticize
every aspect
of our lives.

Down inside of me something untouchable preludes my grace.
Leaves falling down like Chopin's Nocturne op.9 No. 2.
Through the looking glass a sail boat touches your watery eyes.
Standing by you.
Life is in the vine.
Hues of darkness against the light.
A thousand lifetimes in the flash of your smile.
Swan flight in the open field.
Breathe in and breathe out.
The softness your smile against the cold ice of death.
How does beauty and grace carry on even after death.
Up above in the clouds,
floating down down a creek
till the tree of knowledge is reached.
The tree of all life.
That which yields the ability to choose.

A buzzing sound against my ears.
I think I'm dying.
I think I'm crying.
All the things you felt and every breath you took I can feel in my blush.
All that we are
Is a blink in time.
Star bombs blowing up inside of me.
Frame tick tick tock by frame.
These pre-chosen paths reside in me.
I'm thinking about you.
I'm trippin' backwards.
Falling forwards.
Back to you.

My synthetic sleep catching up with me.
In the darkest hour
all my past and future selves collect into one.
Falling apart.
Piece by piece.
This artificial world, what ever happened to you?
This insomniac world that never goes to sleep.
How did we get here?
Disconnected people polluting the hallow veins of earth.
We think we are free but we are caged in by our highly technologicaly advanced smart phones.
Through out the existence of mankind we have sought to create tools which would further our abilitys to live easier lives but now we have surrendered to our own creation.
Have we become subjected to empty shells or is there still hope?
Somewhere out there is a future world surging with infinite peace.

Insanity creeping up behind me.
On the soft note
I become the victim.
The colors of the rainbow are changing.
The colors are changing.