i hear the call of crows and smile
always they are synchronized with my thoughts
always gently prodding at the shell of my greater awareness
the barrier of contemplation and understanding,
that keeps me ******* thin
from letting the world in

and the sable feathered angels
speak in rhythmic humming
saying, in some way

"look here!
listen! hark!
the chiming bells ring!
the song of heaven sings,
it floats in
upon the wind!

feel it cascading
over you.
feel the alignment
of the microcosm
you call home.

a chain reaction,
engulfing you
in waves
of connectivity.

let these
paper thin membranes
dissolve.

you have already
permeated the skin;
to light
you are transparent."

i'm always seeing hearts in my coffee cup
the moon, a brain, jupiter in the days of the great conjunction
my lapis always seems to disappear,
slipping through the veil, into different worlds
i wonder, if i ever find those pieces
what energy they will carry through to me

it must be marvelous

in the past, some days
i'd wake up in another world
deja vu
much the same
but shifted
mirrored
a tad bit left
playing tricks on my eyes
rewriting memories
but never quite
fooling the soul

a universe within a universe
within a universe within a molecule
within that shard of glass
from the cup you dropped on the ground

and oh well
you'd be better off just pitching it
it's not as if your infinite
strings of copies will feel
the ripple effect of the impact
in a place where gravity is so alien

and anyway it's happening
]]]]]accordion[[[[[
over endless mirrors
squashed together

time is a fickle thing
and in your soulful wandering
you might find information
is condensed in endless
p
r
  i
   s

t
inemoments

shrunk or stretched over
myriad material multitudes
in densities you slip through
never keeping track of what is processed
or abandoned in the phantom pools
of time's slipstreams

in this part of the poem,
i am imbuing words
with the power
of peace and love

if you're able,
drink that in with your eyes
there's an infinite supply

if you've ever decided you didn't need shoes
and stepped into the grass
congratulations! you are now cuddling with
an ancient goddess

try making yourself heavy
to ease into the energy of gravity
and if you're ready
you might bleed into her bounty

then, deep breath!
shake it out
do that thing where
you make your cheeks wobble
it's like pbbldd

that should wake you up
prime your mind for inhaling nature's
peace and loving kindness

you can talk to trees
by humming
in the heart
and pushing that fibrous
energy out the throat chakra

they will reciprocate
by helping you to slow down
and show you how gradually life grows
it's quite relaxing

every different spot along the spine
corresponds to a different singing sigh
a high pitch, for the head, and eye
and a low flowing moan
for the roots
we know as home

hum the spectrum
and let yourself feel silly
spirit willing
that laughter
will heal your heart

...i love you

Formless, hidden flagrance
Bastardizations
Subconscious invasions
Derealization

Murderous mindless mental gobbledygook
Aloof, to bide inside and take a look
Spurious flourish in acrid abhorrence

Tis the demon
Which lies within
That tells me lies
And promotes sin

Trials of toilsome interims
Stagnate and rot, in mine, chagrin

Ineffectual ****** aggravations
Sordid, torrid want, ablation
Putrescence of evanescence

Sorrowful warbles in gargling marbles
Choking on hope,
extinguishing flames of my name and making

Prodding the prongs of the timeless song
Rending and rendering nought to which I belong

Seeing sights, in blindness bind,
simulations of kindness, in emptiest minds

I've seen it screaming, deadened in the dark
It doth implore me, say'n only "Hark!"

Tell me truly, what unruly things of which you speak
Portent futures ever looming, bleak
Unspeakable things

I cannot be
I will not be but me
I am not apostate
To lunacy

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

My love is the one

that saturates awestruck passion

making the heart swell

with transformative gasps of divinity



My love is the weight of water

suspended in the air

It is windswept, soft caressing;

Spirit’s soothing whisper in mine ear



My love entombs itself in deep mind

Loses itself to the pool of rhythmic vibration

interspersing, simulated, soulful synchronization



My love is life finding Life finding soul

The sweetness of consciousness becoming conscious

of itself in everything else, of liquid light brimming through,

to coalesce, and impress softness into



My love is poetry wherein

we beautiful beings becoming

had to invent the very word 



To encapsulate the indescribable

that exists in that feeling

of transcending survival 



To find the divine in the usual

Unseen, 
in dark unknowing;

gazing into unreflective waters,

beckoned by the deep.



A shroud of deadened sound,

in windless night, in hush.

The world, my home, 
holds its breath.



As I am,

slipping from grip, 

a yawning mist

and incorporeal.



Seeking
to define
 the indefinite,

intangible and shifting, 

ephemeral resonance.



Sluggish, in a dream;

an astral projection
of intention.


Awaken
the mind, arrested.

Unmoving, in sleep paralysis.



A voiceless song,

belonging to the lungs,

never echoed.



Choking on my death.

Unworldly breath.

What am I?

Can I not see
myself?



The mind identifies

with drifting tides. 

Unbound from time,

I cry.



An aching
sinks, 
beneath the chest
.
Within the gut, it rests.



My soul, instilled
in stillness.


My greatest wish,
a passioned kiss
with 
the intimate

unfurling
of the world 
in
ubiquitous coalition.



The breath of life
,
which fills my lungs, 

never meets the blood.



To be. 

To be.

To be

and never question.



To be free
and known,

as evidenced in vested
interest 
with my sole existence.

I want to be known.

Why can’t anyone see me?

My mind rambles

until it’s time to write



Maybe I should meditate

on an empty page

It seems
I cannot beckon God;
I must remain bewildered

Starry eyed and dreaming
breathing in the mist
with a heavy brain and
all contained within me

Exasperated sighs, relief
such constant bemusement
coloring my senses
tantalizing me with curiosity

I am
caught up
in the searching
unearthing precious gems

Seeing the light through prisms
catching glimpses of the truer forms
whereby reality should turn itself over
lending itself to nought by
superimposed, extant, extradimensional
realities

The shifting, everchanging constant
the fractalline reversal
of the overlay we deem as our precision
yet own as our perception

There is no finding God
It will not come to me
For, without what is not
within was what had been
there is no removal
such, as there is no retrieval

Which way is up in empty space

i started off learning from the wind.
and, like the wind, i slip-streamed by
and gazed into windows from afar.

all i've ever done is flowed and felt,
and to me that's enough to be magic.

everything i've learned is from listening
quietly
and finding where silence isn't.

that voice amongst the white noise,
that howl in the still darkness of night,
is my teacher.

beautifully my heart aches,
when the emptiness
is infinitely more haunting
than the ghosts that drift in it
as memories lost to time.

I am an auric legacy of inexplicable secrets

of nearly saying what I mean,

but not quite having the words to speak it


I am a haze of feeling that fears the density

required to express the things
that truly make sense to me 



I am the internal rambling of a mind maddening itself

and the breadth of peace found in spiritual wealth

I am an analyzing inner voice without a choice

but to spew, spew, spew

just to observe the words as they keep flowing through


and I think that’s what I’m supposed to do 


I’m not attached to me or you;

it’s all just passing by

like gems of light as ripples on the blue



They never hear me clearly

they’re too busy pondering what they might say

and most often interrupting me
before I’ve had my stay

so I’m forced out again,

back into the echo chamber:

 “thought prison” 



Ironically, more liberated here than I could ever be

in someone else’s ear,
at least that’s what my ego’s telling me 

but so alone when I’m unheard,
no place is home amongst the herd


My thoughts are spurred in too many different directions

to understand the single minded group inspired predilection 

spreading through the collective like an infection

but it only scratches the surface



Deep beneath, I know the verses
,
hear the rhythm, feel the flow 

I know it grows
 like starlight
in the night, expanding


Such a natural thing
,
so I’ll just keep listening

Writhing is the brain, hair stood on end, 

with every beat of the eldritch heart. 

The air, a-buzz with cacophonous, insectoid droning, 

threatening to infiltrate and indoctrinate the mind;



twisting languid listening into a maddening gaze,

ablaze with hate and lacking sophistication. 



I cling, with fingers tensed, to the heavy, sticky rot

that lingers thickly in the air, 

and all my cares are gnawing at my soul. 



Something stirring deep within has heightened, 

and I’m frightened, finding myself once again 

scared of the dark. 



A darkness creeping deep within my dreams, 

which, snaking, strangles me; and when I wake 

I find I’m face down in contorted misery, 

like something ghostly sought to swallow me

alive. 



Wretched wasteful 

-undue, unholy and unsanctioned- 

sour tasting, ugly, rank: 

anxiety

i’ve been listening to the playlist I made for you
back in days of bliss, when everything felt new
and when it came the time to bid adieu
i didn’t want to

but the sun went down over pompeii
and One Million Lovers came to fade away
and I Wish I Knew You back in better days
when things weren’t strange
and life was a bit less gray

but Amber, I can hear the sound
of corvids cawing when you’re around
and they’re still singing that ominous sound
even to this day



my heart is swelling with dismay

I wish for Lotus Flowers
on The Altar
so when Seasons Change

I can waste away
without (Waiting On You)



i Wish You Were Here
but Look At Where We Are
so far from Yesterday



so Honey, if You Are The Right One
Give it to Me straight

was I too late
or were we meant to break
The Distance between fate


my Bloodfloods with Multi Love

in this Mad World

our hearts beating in rhythmic synergy
as I inhale, and out you breathe



but the sun’s still shining now that you’re gone
and though I can’t say I’ve moved on

whether or not you’re my Alter Ego

i’m Ready To Let Go

I used to see the world
through jaded eyes;
my life comprised
of fear and scarcity.

I soaked up all the pain
I could retain
til nought was clear to me.

I died inside and every day,
I’d rise again to meet dismay,
but somewhere on the road
everything changed.
Now I’m walking merrily.

It is the people I have found
who show me life can be profound,
and I know now that all around me
there is poetry.

In sunblank white,
a-shimmer is the sky.
Multifaceted fragmented droplets
strewn asunder through the air,
and we are soaked with atmosphere today;
there are no shadows anywhere.


The sun mourns its fleeting dreams.
Nostalgically, kissing the intimacy of morning,
it drinks itself into oblivion.

But, there is starlight on daybreak’s breast
and my primal mind beseeches:
Stay inside and paint the cave with color.
Gray days need not complain
and the heart needn’t ache
of winter’s whispered promise.

It is a season of ghosts
of ruby dusk, and windswept mystery;
with death, things move,
yet life slows, to nigh halting breaths.

We are blissful, melting in memories.

Eyes sparkle
with the magnetism of the ageless
as we reminisce and wish
to pass along songs sung by our eras.

Through our creation,
legacy gleams eternal,
the world vibrates
with the synergy of consciousness,
and those yet long unborn
dwell with us in the universal heart.

A pain in the chest
corresponds with a thought
which responds to the heart
clarifying:

“I do not condone evil
but embrace the many selves within
the reality of self diverging.

There is no seat of self;
no place where being rests.
There is flowing, growing,
expanding forever
in reiteration.”

The elusive mystery
that’s split so I can see
with both eyes.

The merging
of the heart
within the mind.

To feel,
a bubble round the brain
containing memories
of souls sustained,
in ethereal suspension.

To think,
in cognizant alignment
with the heart,
acting upon pulse
and impulse.

Creating resonant sounds;
echoes upon
the proverbial mountain range.

Mirrors mirroring mirrors;
with an inward breath, a deeper drink;
to sink within the soul,
and feel the whole, instilled in stillness.

To be, through becoming
in dialogue diverging;
the everflow bestowing
presence amongst transience.

I am All as I am Nothing.
A seeing thing, believing
that the tapestry is me;
the shifts becoming being,
illusory.

I am pings of energy,
resounding in a field of ripples,
communicating notes
of an intricate, endless song.

I am right where I belong.

This is me:
sediment eroding
in the current of consciousness
coalescing with Life’s
astounding breath.

This is me:
salt of the sea,
oversaturated.

Forming crystalline structures,
in perfect cubic geometry,
refracting light and energy;
protecting.

This is me:
reality unfurling;
elements disintegrating
into quintessential, natural information.

This is me:
consciousness in conception;
forming will from flow
with no direction.

This is You.
It is me, too.
But we are one,

look into
another’s eyes
and see the sun reflecting.

We are light beings;
fragments of reality
dissecting

everything.

Miracles of being in transpiring.
Precipitations on the cycle
of the endless ocean.