Something ineffable;
the droves of life
denied in splendor
to the mind

Something perplexing
a vexing muse of
reality
infused with abnormality

That absurd thing
we call the soul
ever whispers
even in its screams
we behold

Questions fledging
answers swarm
to ride on seraph’s wings
above the storm

Never being
erred, and e’er become
All but streaming
fleeing, gleamed in
growth, amidst hope
with such aplomb

We are meant
in the meaningless
Squandered passions
roused ambivalence

In freedom
we are lost
Untethered from truth
As we amass the idle questioning
Formed in what makes us
Aloof

What does it mean
to be
human?

Monstrous indulgences
of wandering in abundance
seeking shelter
in the wholeness
of fulfillment

Yet
We are ever empty
Never fully

We

Summerset
By fall beget
Where'n winter comes
With much regret

Scintillating spring
What wonders you may bring
And round we turn
Cyclical burn
Upon my frail skin

In January we begin
Life anew with hopes to win
In February, thoughts of love
Carried by wings
Of harken dove

In March, we march
For luck, we do embark
Upon the journey
To April's storms
May's flourish

June brings tunes
Familial revery
Many grooms
And brides, aplenty


In July
We ask not why
For celebration
Lights the sky

August turns
An auburn red
Reminding us
Of winter's dread

September,
Such a hopeful thing
Academic inklings
And much respect for those
Now long dead

October tells
Of Christmas bells
Of gluttony
And feast wrought
Stuporous spells

November sings
Gratuitous
Chiming
Christmas bells ring

December dies
Until what lies
Beyond us, again
Rebirth implied

The spirit, soul
;
being, whole
.
One seeing mind

open to find the divine inside

.

One, seeing mind;

to merge, emerge,

bestow and grow. 

Surrender to the ever-flow.


To sleep in deep, cut through me. 

Ocean of patterns, possibilities. 

Without a vessel, spirit consumes me;
to sit in this unity. 



Am I thinking, feeling, seeing?

Does reality flow through me? 

In intimate silence, mind wide:

duality.



I am quiet, true
.
Unseen
,
but I can’t hide 
these feelings

.

Are thoughts my own, when all things spring 

from a source that’s forever branching

onward into ignorance, 

whilst knowledge keeps advancing?

So I’m dancing in the action 

of solitude and truth romancing;

a fool who takes a chance to be

alone but Love is seeing me.


In endless conversation 
with vibration, I am free.

But I would shackle myself
;
cuff my hand to yours

to be known in this temporary moment
,
without knowing what’s in store.



To be adored... 

Drip with me in poetry,

and know the voice unknown,

amor.

At night my eyes do bleed into the undercove

Such clouds of darkened ichor mask my vision
I saw the great respite wherein you bode
took hands upon your form and shouldered myriad of blight

Spat then a tongue into my mouth
though it was not your own
as your apparition, dense, did disappear
I came to know the truth with clarity
for you were never here
in that dream did I call dear
to your admittance lost

For she came to fill the void
in faces squat upon the isles
when I was sat there on the floor
only one was nearer to my truth

In the beveled floor
I saw motion
in the map of self
a shroud of stars

For what is worth beguiled?
For what is measure spent?
Beseech my innocence
nostalgic loss of breath

Love is not a thought
and not a dream
It is the sleeping mind’s
one haven in the dark

I woke
to you beside me
speaking cheerfully of days unworn
readily acceptable
there to be adorned

In our unity
a dance
which grants me levity
as we romance
an absence of the ****** past
as pains should die again
where we go forth
in union
with our star gate skies
not alien or human
having not a guise
simply We

Wherein the runes should speak of your awakening
Myself eclipsed; in tides of darkness, shrouded
For if my only knowing height’s forsaken me
By fate itself, my action found, is clouted

Your magick weaves a tale of legend's stature
In ire, I am besmirched by my affection
Yet, by the open skies, my heart is captured
Sewn to my soul, yore; guide, and my direction

At first, it was in solace I lamented
I'd found my home arrested, thence, herein
Yet, glowering upon thy throne, cemented
My gaze adhered to thee, my heroine

In stark decree, and vying for attention
To coalesce with thee, I seldom whisper
I nary take to me, in, for retention
As ether beckons, beguiled, am I, through fissure

Wrought unto planes ascended, everflowing
Sovereign soul of thine undoing, wild
Wherein altogether cometh, nought is growing
Though godly; Us, it still is but a child

Mine interim; thine own chagrin
To be without what is
As what is outward lies within
And all begotten, His

So cry, do I, to Mother Moon
While in the night you rise
By loneliness, pray, end me soon
Please, take me to the skies


For He, the Sun, is brightly blinding
Why, nocturnal, my life!
Thus, in the light, no sight I'm finding
Only endless strife!

Your mystery; the depth of thee
Ne'er seen before in effulgence
If thine enigma summons me
I shan't be revenant

Ineffable is that which tempts
To be beyond it all
Conceding corpor, to-when, hence
Abandoned is my droll

I was all nines
Until I saw the value
In the openness of zero

It was 3:00 pm on a Saturday
When I heard the sirens
For the fifth time this month
And watched as the paramedics
Carried his near-lifeless body to the ambulance
On a stretcher

I had planned to make this day
My escape, again, like
Every weekend I had
Just to forget
That we were constantly inching closer
To the realization of how fragile life can be

I knew then there was no escape
We could only hold tightly to the threads of hope
That tied us to a better future
Even as they acted as tourniquets
Which threatened to break our bonds
Sever our grip
Leaving us to bleed our unchecked emotions
Onto the always spotless floor
Which was her escape

We all have one
But his was fatal
And ours were not
And we could only watch and wait
Wonder whether there was
a God watching over us
Or our prayers were just
there to sit in our heart
And hold back our tears

So I stepped outside
As the neighbors did the same
And we gathered on our porches
Smoked our cigarettes, and watched
Because the pain of another is a spectacle

I am ire
In the land of wrath
And I smile emptiness
On your behalf

I linger, soulless
In the grass
Overgrown
and under pathed
In terror, peril
Paralyzed
I reap the fortuned
And dole demise

I am nature
Cruel and empty
I once was full
But you reject me

I am every sin you've casted
To the wind, now everlasting
I am the dark you dread
I am flagrance, and the dead

Reality an elegant ruse
Mentality portends the muse
In blight or bliss it misconstrues
Twisting neutral, natural balance
as it may choose

Perception blinds the aching mind
thru meaning sought in surfeit
of information's dissipation
by humankind, concerted

The relevant and elegant
realities we're exposed to
are simply short of sembalance
as limitations impose you

No objectivity exists
interminably trapped alone
as we are forced to reminisce
with ego's memories on its throne

What's in the words that you prefer
That in mine you can't find?
And what of beautiful nonsense
Does perturb your gorgeous mind?

Are you so blinded by the truth
There is no musing in divine?
And is your only nature pleasant
When the daily pain, your eyes might blind?

By what of truth, does reign aloof?
And where does fact not fall?
And how might every night I lie
If I can't sleep them all?

If every morrow, bide in sorrow,
as my beck and call,
Should life, by mine, become a bore
Might I relive it all?

Or revel in the stranger things
And write for wrong,
Or to my grave, I crawl.

To lie beneath the willow tree
And wonder what wistful tombs beget
In troubling oneself with repercussion
Ever yet it torments

To lie beneath the willow tree
To see, the beauty captivates
And in myself, I challenge thee
One's own perception elevates

Of this and that
And what to be
And traits meant to conciliate
To wonder what one might become
If to stop hating thee

To lie beneath the willow tree
And watch the clouds drift endlessly
To see the world in jaded green
Where all things are forgotten

To ask oneself what they might be
If not to ask what is
To pursue thine own dreams, endlessly
Nary wondering what one might give

To lie beneath the willow tree
And watch the clouds go by
All changing form, but ever set
On reaching for the sky

I've sought endlessly for beauty in life

Seen it in questions and intricate weavings of their 

Puzzling, fragmented answers

Pieced together with words of silken gold

Or whatever the **** 


What the **** is silken gold to a word?

It sounds pretty


It could be argued to be

A delicate thing, so precious and thinning

Wrapped closely around itself

Building its tensile strength

Creating a thread which can hold the weight of woes


But did I ******* say that?

That's not what I was thinking at the time

It was just something to say

I don't really know how to express my emotions clearly

Everyone else seems to understand them, when I describe it

But to me it always comes off as nonsense


I'm jealous of the simple poets

Who write about what happened to them today

And actually get to cry about it


I don't

Maybe if I could, I'd understand what I'm feeling

But right now it just hurts to feel so alone

Having nobody who knows me

Just because I'm inept

The plumage of eternal sin
wherein the magnitude of all
aghast and umbrage black
should lie upon
the loft of casting's sorrow

An empty locket
shedded promises
gold now worn as jaded copper
faded through the gilded clasps
And ever noire, to your reflection

Press within
The mirror, more to hold
The soul of songs you've lost
To setting frost of vague emotions

There is no picturesque
In somnolence and rotting
So dispense of what's forgotten
Reinvigorate your urge besot

You are nought and augur
Yours are liminal and soft
Solace brimming signals
To alliance of the
Prescient

It was dark outside
And you were waiting in disguise
And I made my way down to the pier
And climbed the broken boardwalk
To find your friends there with a mirror
Shining visions of your beautiful face
Upon my tired eyes

But you were not stuck within this pale reflection
And it retracted into the box on which it stood
So I turned, and saw you there, adorned in reaper's clothing
In attempt to shake my fragile heart into fleeing
But I saw through your guise, and pushed you into the waters
Heavy, weighed down by the garbs of Death, you began to sink

Without a second thought, I offered my hand, and pulled you from the black water
And I stripped off your mask, to see you were unchanged, and beautiful
And your lipstick was black, but shone in the night, no less
And I thought to kiss your dark mouth, and felt elation
Only to wake alone, with no one beside me, but you lingering in my mind
A woman, only, of my dreams

Ebb and flow in vortices, and flee in mirrored peaceful erred exhaustion
Allbecoming seas of melodies, and vibrancy begotten
I flitter close, but never near, and deaf but hearing through ethereal whispers

As all is one, rewritten
I am scattered in starlight, and nothing is old as new
Transformation wrought akin
No desolation lies without, within, about this empty chasm of faceless space

I am erased
I drink in starlight, masking open caves within my mind
Light blinding my depths
Stark, cascading evanescence
Efflorescence
Retread, in small trees of branching particles

Large and small, are but currents formed by the hands of differently fractalline gods
We are afloat on stretch-ed space
The spirit is liquid, and the container is whatever fits to it
There is no emptiness in the Undry

Happenstance to the melancholic gives leave the sin of pride.
Inbound reconnaissance tells not the bearer of influence.
Squeamish at first: a foreshadowing of calamitous bonding.

A space between the mark of corporeal and the ethereal; a stringent hiatus
That which rattles the concrete foundation of morality is scarcely a malleable recourse.
Regret stains the unfounded soul: an enigma of ephemeral perforations.

A separation of the unmitigated humanities; misandry topples the writhing snake.
Impact; a cleansing of the maker's flaws integrated solemnly.
Complacency arrests the administration of the abhorred; unbridled is the autonomy of a guru.  

Ambivalent giftedness burdens the reliant and haughty.
A flick of the tongue brings forth the cinema mortem.
Castaway: alone to wade in the sea of obscenities.

A temporal causality allows no mourning to abscond.
Negligence is not the enemy, but indulgent wrath.
Hesitant: a stroke of qualia begets the end of a maiden.

We are aflame with the infinite potential of the universe.
Thought, fluctuations of temporal acuity;
through entropy, and change
And, a gravitational bonding with our surroundings
We become whole, we become one,
But we live on as ourselves

The phenomenon of perception
Is a captive dimension
bent on gathering information
dilating, extrapolating, and innovating
We are manufacturing change
We are proliferating violently

In this surplus of information,
comes a need for capital in-satiated
So, though infinite the universe,
our resources have slowly faded

And perhaps, in an alternate time
We may find greater minds
From out of the sky
Or perhaps live on in peace
And share equally
So that we can make the best
Of our environment, and selves
And coexist
To find higher meaning

But in our current state,
At the cusp of civilization
There must be massive change
Or only death

For light-years come between us
And ignorance impedes us
From finding higher meaning
Before we have destroyed ourselves

Whereof void cometh light
Therein the realm of whispers stretching vast
By what great somnolence fore-takes the night
Unto the mind’s recoupled, last

By speckled sand in burgeoned storm
Whose weaving deems thy make
In nebulous, unstructured form
Til brinks, again, daybreak

Whence shrouded depths bestow thy name
O Maker of the Lands Estranged
O Dark Unbridled Taskmaster
What mirth beguiles thy claim?

For in the harbored bow of day
To eat of such abound
Remade in Night’s shadow’d parlay
As we, remade from ground

What, by thy gazing over land
Should bring immortal what is man?
Where through the reaching unto nought
Shall future’s stake, our hearts allot?

Where dreams be dreamt in wake and rest
Your hand to ours, there, to caress
To guide our minds and move our breaths
To breathe for life’s unending test

As is the mount to he who hikes
A place to chase the peak
Should we, who in nature alike
See ours and wish our keep

The candid poetic escape
of a beauteous nature embrace
is what I crave

To wander in my nomadic way
And find myself astray
Upon the land's breadth and clay

To live the magick in my mind
And wander every day
And love alone
in the primal home
and listen for the call
of mother nature
in us all
And feel for once
I'm heard
And beauty listens

It's so loud
In this awful town
And people seam
To disconnect
From what was once
our essence

They escape pain
And aimlessly blame
And live in fantasy

They are
ever distracted
By the flashing light
That carries into night
And call me crazy
For wanting only
To reconvene
With my roots

But in my mind I am a poet of myself
And my soul is open to the energies abound
And I am lost within my heart
For I am cast apart
When nature's call to art
Is so far away
And all I've wrought
Is ever sought
In things I cannot reach
Unless I stray alone
Into the nomad's home

grasping at the past, heavy of heart
and shocked; paralyzed
wishing for wings,
to fly in my dreams,
find that castle in the sky


travel through the vortices
of interconnected minds
there, you, I’d find,
my world divine

my love, accosted
ever lost

my muse
who’s left behind


and
forever shifting is the heart
ever yet never drawn apart
so bound are we
o, me to thee
such (pressed in pressure)
encounters brief



like lightning in my mind’s eye
to see the air electrified
whenever your eyes meet mine
hovering; swimming in ethereal fluid
surging with infinity’s energies



yet
arching in my back
a miasma of light
erupting from the heart

out of the eyes

stranded, abandoned
drifting in the void
crippled
by the weight of indiscretion

longing
for such loves forever lost
such levity intrinsically bestowed upon me

whence coalescence splits bereft
by weight of evanescent fate
and there is nothing left
not love nor hate
am I too late?
am I too late?

By acquisition of perfidiousness,
  superabundant equanimity serves as cynosure
for perspicacious circumlocution
  Extricated from acumen by coruscant conviviality
     prescient luminescence elicits magnanimous ebullience
   Profundity wrought the saxicolous
    Winebibber, penultimate in cupidity
    Unencumbered by concupiscence
   in which anomalistic accoutrements might unto be bequeathed
Alas, only by auspices, might idiosyncrasies be brought to be remunerative
As such, in trust, bellwether, to excogitate and make usufruct
is as to find parsimonious, what opulence incorrigibly writhes therein
By hedonistic primal instinct, chase, to what is callipygian

In the valley of death

muted memories of life flash by

on sealed tapestries


Shimmering lilies speckle
the moon drenched chasm floor


Voices call from the shadows

whispering melodies of freedoms 

unbeknownst to mortal man



The sun persistently lingers

on the cusp of twilight

resting on the peak

of distant mountains



I trudge onward

as darkness licks at my ankles

attempting to ****** me

into unholy union

with the Sarcophagus of Truth



I do not rear my head

I am steadfast, star-bound

Powerful in my will



I will reach the mountaintop

I will see the light

Energies compounding
From base to crown resounding
That which grasps eternity abounding
As points upon the spine make raise to founding
In the manifest of magick

Ensorcelled by the whims of one’s intention
To form from what’s suspended, predilection
Make thralls as growth enlivened by affection
Coursing freely into frames betwixt within

Tis the catalyst of dreams
The ether streams
Which called upon, should gleam into the extant

Qi formed from the vortexes of multitude;
of coalescent pools
of extradimensional splendor
Whence all as one is fragmented
to individual endeavor

To call upon the forces of the soul
Amass a spectacle of power everflowing
To command the wealth of all abundance in the throes
Of what becomes you

Insight and true elation
In spiritual hibernation
To bloom, consumed in new beginnings
As a sage of magix brimming

The ought and oft surrendered unto happenstance
Unbound to choice wherein all falls to chance
To be in bliss, and pierce the veil with light as lance
As magick is what holds me
I am supported on the all begotten energies
of spiritual transcendence

A demon came, and against his shadow,
pressed, I basked in blindness
My heart, he closely observed
and noticing its weight,
thought to offer me a kindness

He asked of me to sell my soul
In exchange, no more would my sorrows be
His promise was of lighter a heart,
a swifter step, and sadness left behind me

I told him this, in quick retort,
for I am no ordinary fool:

Although I may carry a burden
superfluous, indeed
I am a poet, sir,
and thus,
in this forever,
a heavy heart will I need

Specious conversation
Of day in and day out
The lives of many
Concerned with who did what
How he or she
Said this or that

He was
45
She was 19
She did not know
He had two other
Lady loves

Nor, that he was 260 pounds
And balding, gray haired
Barely able to walk a mile
She loved him for his kindness
He loved her for her hips
And her *******

As did he love the others
For their buxom figures
Alas, he did not love himself
And thus he hid from them
His fatal flaws
Behind a screen

Joking of how stress
Is more potent than
His addiction
To the nicotine
That blackened his lungs
And bragging to a young man
Far more genuine
Just as he wished he was

She was 36
She looked 50
She worked two jobs
At 10 an hour
To support her fleeting family
Wishing she was struggling
A bit more with finance

Wishing her son was not taken
By the grasp of a depressant drug
Injected in the veins
Ten too many times

As did she wish
She could abscond from the local crimes
And live in luxury
Not far away, but in a safer place

So, I told her
Of my story of success
And how my brother
Had lived through
What her son had not survived
I had no words to comfort her

They were each 17
Constricted from individuality
By the strong grip of capitalism

They spoke in envy
Of how an older coworker
Was brazen enough to be accepted
For his long hair, and baggy jeans
Paid more, not for his drive and resolve
But his familiarity


I did not respect them
Until I came to understand
They only wished to be like me
Untied from the system
Outlandishly myself

I thought, "How tiny minds might think,
In vapid ways
To cope with the meaninglessness
Of their existence."

Not now, though
I see the truth
They move through their lives
Step by step, one foot ahead of the other
Working toward what I have taken for granted

He asked me for a cigarette
Offering his last seventy two cents

I gave it freely
Not to **** him more quickly
But to quell his demons
So he could live another day
Believing in the world
Which crippled him

I have come to understand
that insignificant, trivial things
hold importance in numbers.

Most people live
to be a part of something greater,
but in recognizing the bigger picture,
I have failed to see the purpose
of smaller things until now.
I never sought to belong.
I never wished to contribute
to arbitrary, mechanical actions.

However, I know now
that to become greater,
I must find something worth being small for.

In order to be what my identity stipulates,
first I have to achieve the stature
to exceed my shadow,
so that I might stand tall and bask in the brightness.

I tend to employ and enjoy a constant state of change. Perhaps it may be that I'm uncomfortable remaining static in being, and must become, or I feel I'll always be lacking. The way I see it there's always some lesson to be learnt and to me that's an urgent and nagging feeling. I simply must expand my perspective in order to support myself. That is what they mean, when they say you "understand" yes? Not only do you see what you see, but you know well enough of it to support it? Then, thus, if that is the case, does it not become a foundation upon which a new self is built? Are you not standing on the corpses of your former selves, ready and eager to die yet again as you grow into a veritable giant? Tho, perhaps is it the ultimate, and most noble of deaths to cast yourself from the mountain of your making, dying in the fullest, only to be consumed by rot, and let 'what is' take you? Should I abandon all that I have seen, and become, in favor of being what I ever never was? Salt of the earth, charged in the moon, left lacking by ocean's recourse. Shall I melt and unbecome again? Should I be all as nothing?

What sort of trembling has become of me?

How could I fly the coop in distant memory,
and shade myself in anything
without a breath of deep, cold air?

Where should I sit when I’m alone,
if all this restless energy forever
makes me shake in discontent?

Where is the comfort in the fulcrum,
and the levity in slow eventual tiring?
Whose rock am I standing on?

What is nature to the trees?
What is ancient to the breeze?
What is movement to heat?

What is everything without the occasional stopping point?

Where does one line divide
the mind
from humankind?

What is holding me fast
against
my screeching in the night?

Why do I cry in silence
without ever letting loose
the deluge within my heart?

Why must the mind and soul,
the young and old,
the love and life
and hope,
all stand apart?

Who am I
without the world
to define me?

Where are those with whom
I may share
my hiding?

Star crossed lovers
Gaze upon an empty sky
And search for distant stars
And wonder why
The darkness is so black
When things are never ending

Her eyes might widen
To seek the light
Her mind my gape
And swallow the space
Which borders every star

His words should sparkle
Amongst the galaxies
Writing his love
Across the sky
To live forever

They are
So obsessed
With the beyond
They cannot see the lines
Which form their souls together

And create constellations
Just to unify them
However distant