There, where the turning moon would then subsume, should I subsist
The new year births and I’m unearthed to linger yet persist
Unencumbered by my hunger; wonder what will die
As every day’s a new engagement toward a life aligned

Your leaving gleans a hope of breathing in the winds of change
For never more shall I abhor and be eclipsed: deranged
I’ve buckled since your resonance has likened me to death
As you depart, I hold my art to act where I’m bereft

I’ve left my heart to hold the old unstructured things I hate
To come and form upon new avenues allaying fate
Where once our coalescence was the essence of renewal
These cruel begotten, ever rotten shifts rend us in duel

I tether there my heart to severed parts of what was whole
I lie beneath the moon and am reborn, alone and full
To curse the moving ether would bring deeper separation
So by the rising tides of mindless time I find elation

Low density
slow entropy
expansive ethereal
immaterial inclusive
conducive conclusive
collective perspective

Interjected perplexing
Vexed intensive directive

Perspicacious intonations
repulsed over nullified
Emulsified dry mindless intrinsic duplicitous insistances
redacted and reacted upon retroactively,
in posthumous alacrity,
as backed and packed to me
are primitive tenacities
by classless massless animalistic catastrophes
in baseless traceless
uniformly adjacent replacements

Tasteless abasement
in braced,
placed erasure of nature
Replace her with infrastructure
Good old abundant mother, **** her

I'd love to plug her with rubber
unsung troubles debug her
rewind and entice
and drown and rend blind with devices incisively derisively winding
her planar engagements
to ownership taken
forsaken by god
but we're shaken by odds
of new values in clods
of endowments toward rods of power each hour we glower
and how her entreatment
might trap and devour
if we weren't so clever
we'd sever our heads as we shower
in the ichor of the dead
and instead we're just thicker than blood
with our money and crud
replace water with crude
and a bad attitude

I'd be true to the money
but wouldn't it be funny
if deigned be the dummy
as warless and lost
in the loathesome defrosting
of planetary exhaustion?

Now tell me the cost
of the death and the offing
of all we've been coughing
to the air we've been drawing from
gnawing the earth to her bones
always want some more worth from our home
but it's worthless if we end up alone

I want to become someone

There is no such thing as the abyss
Static, white noise, information overload
Analysis paralysis
The mind shuts down, but never squanders its supply

I am worn thin
I am overwrought and jaded
Lackluster and swooning for the mist
Yet in the midst of everything, I feel amiss
I am the nothingness that lost its place within the confines of an empty concept
Labeled the ‘abyss’
It does not exist
It is overload and darkness
Stare forever and your brain will short circuit
but leave the lens behind
Retreat into your caves and sleep
And your long exposure will reveal light
Answers
Unlabeled, mysterious and so far out of reach

I am overwhelmed
Distant
A cacophony in deep space
Choking as I gasp for air
Dying, literally dying
To be heard

But I can’t cry anymore
I can’t speak like I used to
Can’t dream at all
I am the abyss
But I am not empty
You simply cannot see beyond yourself
To know what I hold within my depths

Adorning madness, sacrosanct
Bemused in my internment
To rile in the utter, rank
Entrails of my dispersement

Abhorrent wells of isolation
Portending masks of weight
To sit in sorrowed degradation
Doomed to always contemplate

Oscillating information
Wrought upon the intonation
Of the songs of overlong
Approaching condemnation

O’ force of magick whose affront
Should emblazon darkened skies
Captivate mine with endless want
Or give me my demise

I glue my eyes upon the stars
Stretch my gaze o’er the vastness
I swallow the universe from afar
Now chockablock with blackness

Consumed with empty melancholy
Cursed to mend a mind afray
As hubris is my greatest folly
To swallow night and abandon day

Should I find my memories forgotten
What of me would continue to exist?
As, molded by the life I am begotten
And learnt am I through what I reminisce
Should I be struck again with infancy
And gaze upon a world now turned anew
Should everything I lost be true to see
What of the man I was, could re-accrue?
Could every sunset basked in light my mind
Would shallow days gain depth in innocence
Is trudging through dismay what rends us blind
Or is the bliss of ignorance amiss? 
So shrouded in my mind’s breadcrumbs am I
That I might lose the path I walk, ahead
So lost in looking back to wonder why
That I may ever tarry in my stead
Yet if I tripped and fell upon my head
And could remember not who I had been
Would I forget to drop my crumbs of bread
And turn to journey onward without dread?

By bliss imbued
The self renewed
In energy accepted
The primal force
Of life endorsed
Where freedom's resurrected

In shedding doubt
To live without
The need for expectation
By peace of mind
No longer blind
The soul can find
Elation

To see myself for what is truly me

I must accept the ego is in twain

For ever fleeting is identity

When cast aside, the self is what remains

I am but a receptacle for life

Experience can mold me into man

Ephemeral, the lessons wrought of strife

Eternal is the person I call Dan

Wherein the passing days in endless bound

Should stretch ahead with no sense of relief

Where ev’ry gem of wisdom may be found

In conquering the objects of my grief

Though life can be so long, not much survives

Of who I was when I was but a babe

Still in my name forever I’m alive

So, this I swear to carry to my grave

I’m learning that in order to disconnect from my ego, I have to accept it. I’ve always wanted to be this philosophical, poetic person who seeks enlightenment, but I’m not a philosophy. I’m still a person. I like to fool myself into thinking there is no self, but there is, it’s just in flux. The self is like a cork board full of pins and art pieces. The ego likes to think the things that are on the board are the self, but it’s fooling the self in doing so. The self just retains the images. The images just represent the self. Sure, the pushpins leave a mark that may never come out, and arguably the things they support leave a bigger mark when they’re hanging up there, but they can change. There’s only enough space for so much.
The ego draws the self portrait and says “That’s me” but the self knows it’s just a picture. It won’t be the same in ten years as it is now, but, there will still be remnants of the past that have stayed along for the ride.

Whose ever musing beauty should refrain
To tantamount endurance of lament
When every mounting truth begets in vain
To all but fleeting, ignorant dissent
As promises romantically inclined
Should shower vagrant starlight on your face
But ever shake the beauty of the mind
To flay itself to fortune in disgrace
I chased a home in something never bound
And lost myself to hang upon the hour
I forced my hand to choke when you’re around
To girdle and bestow a broken flower
Yet in the light of new day I attest
That grandeur can be found in simpler things
For at effulgent love’s newfound behest
By synergy, felicity it brings

Can calamity turn to serendipity?
As all should happen with a reason,
could the turnings’f fate
be brought about
to conquer inner demons?

Might we rise, unbound,
in freedom,
as phoenix from ash?

Could inner fire be quashed
to be rekindled?
Are not we unbridled by chance?

Are we yet lost but found
again in our advance?

Where first to swim 
in drifts ‘n dregs, as drags 
of denser things 
should hold fast 
our frail bodies, 
thereupon the first breath 
of earth’s clean air 
are we alight, 
and therein-lightened. 

To start a walk upon new legs,
evolved to live on land
in vague untempered
night and day;
to sleep beneath the stars
and lay away in homes so vast;
so ever layered.

Then should we climb
upon the freest heights,
and rise no further, lest we fly?

Then should we take to falling
just the same, to catch a breeze
and drift away?

What should pass comes forth to grow
To make my life my own, I know,
I must continue,
ever into,
this invidious dismissiveness,
exuberant in emptiness,
lamenting in my evanescence
as my mind is on the precipice

To reminisce
in paracosmic,
Exodus

To acquiesce unto the rest
Most pressing, incessant
Important matters to address

Perfidious indifference
Insistence on what is urgent
Resistance leads to-ward divergence
From the Oath of the Emergent
To the Mouth of the Insurgent

I love when things are written for me
We may not be on the same page
But we're in the same book

It's beautiful to live life with lively characters
Whose depth can fill the void on an empty page
And turn that cage into magic to be woven from our inspiration

We spend a lot of time trying to escape our lives
But that's just it
We keep on living even if we go about our days chasing a fate we're not keeping up with
We can drink away our memories
Or spend an age online, invested in the drivel of another vapid daydream
Or we can live our lives in the making

Sometimes we live between pages
Between lines of words unwritten
And I find myself getting sick when I see packs of people in different stories intersecting mine
Like ravenous wolves, starving for a piece of meat
While I want only to exchange a few words from my story
With another person in the same book

I dried my tears to desiccation
Now I'm stranded here in isolation
Deep within the mind
But I can't find myself to bring elation

I've lost the presentation of my ego to the id
I'm drowned about in seas of tears I've kept contained within
I'm poised in spirit on the nearest island here within my mind
But I'm still searching salty seas for something I will never find

I think I'm crazy, but I can't see truth here to compare
This false lucidity does not help me to feel more aware
I'm killing time within but drowning in emotions, wearing thin

I'm basking in the silent night,
and there's no light to guide my way
I'm strung about
I've learned to fly
But I can't see the shore
To my dismay

It hurts to see the earth all shrouded in the dark, this way
But it's a world within my mind, there's no way out, I'm still a castaway

Into this inseparable, ineffable haze I gaze.
My thoughts are fogged but I find ways
To describe the pain and turn a phrase
From what is waning in my mind

To make it blaze and use that fire
To shine the way through this dismay
I've been contained in all along