How to leave the person
that you love..
is there any right way?
Can it be assumed that eloquence
could be retained
when you look into the eyes
of the person who you love so completely
and you say
"I can't do this anymore."
But in your mind,
you are saying
"what am I doing right now?"
it's like an icicle forming
in the hot coals of a fire,
it just doesn't make sense.
The pain comes in wild tangents
the pain that you induced
all by yourself
and every single time
you play out another possibility
any other way out
it is muddled with a sad desperation
a self created deception
because when your heart is breaking
a bandaid won't help you.

vastness
abounding infinite
ever present
sitting there
behind the labels

we humans
categorize
separate this universe
with our mind
dividing
the one

but there it is
infinite in size
and wonder
sitting there
behind our thoughts

we create
this life
this human life
our important world
our jobs
our money

deep down
well all know
there is a greater truth
behind our man made
distraction

however we choose not
to face the mystery
because we are too afraid
of not knowing

so we pretend
we pretend that we know
we create our story
in complete ignorance
forgetting the wonder
choosing to overlook
our beating hearts

we don't see the trees
we don't see the streams
the stars are pointing
to our souls
begging
for us to wake up

we are not just human
we are not just individuals
we are the essence
we are the wonder
we are the universe

when will our hearts dance?
is this prison so believable?
the morning commute
will lead us further
towards delusion

wake up
wake up
ask yourself
what am I?

Sitting by the pond,
this evening is so calm and crisp.
The light of the moon shines down upon the Earth
and it reflects on the water's surface.
The brilliant stars hanging in the night sky
sing a song of mystery and wonder
stirring the imagination.
Close my eyes,
breathe deeply within,
I am not separate,
I am.
I.
.

Innocence
Unconditioned
Pure
Radiant

Opinionless
Present
Aware
Open

A sliver of light
in darkened haze
teaching without preaching
innocent eyes
without boundaries
inherently loving
their unbiased heart
is a compass
for us all

Nonsensical
Experimental
Rain falls from clouded mind
that's where I spend
most of the time

Swimming inside
last week I tried
right now I breathe
tomorrow I die

At home yet gone
Lugubrious pawn
feeling so off
when the switch is flipped on

Smile through it all
small is the new tall
wings on my back
yet I'm choosing to crawl

kings
queens
rhythms
beans
slippers
shoes
horses nay
cows say
yatatatatatata

Slinky mind rivulets
intravenous channels
having their way.
Syntactic synergy
trickling streams
of deep crimson
crawl the carvings.

The void is a tender tunnel
a soft serene muffled jungle
peer into the patient eye
of leveling paradox

silence, the Siren
where power deconstructs
the struggle meets its maker
tendril limbs of limitation
have lost their hold

Bring it on
bring it all on
such weight
is but a feather of light

Oh food
Used many years ago
For nourishment
And survival

Used today
As a tasteful way
To relieve
Pent up stress

Addicted
You are my friend
Happy to appease
My selfish tongue

In food
There is escape
A small light
Of blissful ignorance

When friends can't help
And therapy won't do
I always know
I can count on you

Food

All those years
I was looking for God.
"His words are in this book."
They would say.
"He can be found
above us, in Heaven."
It seemed so absurd
so preposterous.

Onward, looking, looking, looking
scouring this world
for a sign.

Until one day
while riding on the city bus
watching snow flakes fall
a warmth grew within
the very marrow of my soul.

As my thoughts dissolved
like the snowflakes on the window
I began to laugh.

All these years
searching outside my Self
when all I had to do
was look within.

Right now
this is the home
of physical
of spiritual
ethereal, tangible
known and unknown
fact and fiction
truth and false.
Right now,
is the home
the very marrow
of creation.

The glass was broken
long before
it hit the ground

the rust made home
on the metal fence
before it stood

my childhood hair
so soft and fair
was always white
and dead

this beating heart
and warm flesh
will find the earth
and feed the roots

impermanence
the greatest gift
without ending,
without loss,
appreciation
and love for life
could never be

Misanthropic flagellum
quarter sized mellon
left foot stirrup
is hoping for rebellion
They tell you what
and They tell you how
"it's all right here
it's all right now"
forget the words
and drop the form
to know the cold
first know the warm
a drizzly dream
black dollop of cream
onward in silence
you continue to scream
The warriors path
is riddled with unease
the harder it gets
the more you believe
And when you die
look God in the eye
and say "**** it was hard,
but oh what a time."

Fall from the greatest height
a weightless descent
through ethereal mountains
and static mist
where angels and demons commune
and rampant emotions are hungry
sliding onward
through entropic erosion
layer after layer
courage!
courage (again)
courage (where?)
is there an end?
Stop!
There you are
sitting by a silent fire
God is roasting marshmallows
"God, I can't begin again.
The peak is too high. Why even try?"
Slowly, she lifts her head
and looks at you
with a smile on her face
and a sparkle in her eye.

Piloting a rocket propelled spermatazoon
straight into the magma core of Arcturus!
And all the while our cute society
is humming a slithery little hymn
"Dip your toes and smile along
clap your hands and follow me home."
Alas my hands are golden waves
and bridge the space
where the monolith wades
Redemption plays
the poison harp
encouraging those forgotten
to never give up
the strings are dripping
and licking the ground
where flowers grow
the land is sound
there is someone at the door
always someone at the door

You want more?
Of course you do
everyone always wants more
and so you strive
and you push
for more
never settling for simple breathing.
But is this direciton
just a mitigated distraction?
A subconscious reaction
to the subtle changes
of your very humanness?
You don't deal well
with the fluidity of existence
the unparalleled persistence
of ever present change
emotions flooding
thoughts bombarding
heart is beating
theory discarding
body thudding
thrusting and lusting
contentment oh sweet contenment
and on the heels
the clutch of grief
despair
you don't care
why wake up?
You can no longer participate
the movement towards more
you cannot initiate
but wait
upon the rays
of golden starlight
lingers a distant pang
of tired delight
and again
you want more

Her mind reels
a spinning top
of endless work
as they stack more and more and more and more and more
when will she breathe?
Does she want to?
She knows the stress is overbearing
so much that dissociation
is her only paid vacation
"my schedule is better this week...
as long as I don't eat lunch."
It is well known
that her tenacity is unparalleled
her stubborn work ethic
unbreakable. unsurpassed, inspiring.
Just make sure, little squirrel
in the midst of battle
that there will be time
for your soil and seeds

the guru of garden
quietly shines
as she nourishes her babies
and finds the time
to sing the verse
of her great love
her joy
spring time

my desires cling to the undesriable
my intentions filtered through the silk of intentionlessness
futile attempts to participate
condemned to mute lethargy
and yet, a remote part of myself
is providing the musical score!
The dance is fragmented
disjointed
sweet little morsels
sprinkled delicately upon an unsatisfied foundation
and the deliberate little voice
chirps like a bird
just being is enough
all the rest is in good fun

Insanity is only
a thought away
Soon I will fall
into the void
where the self is gone
and so is the world

where no one can help you
and you have dissolved
where nothing is big
and nothing is small
time has lost significance
one moment is eternity

no ambition and no desire
no love and no hate
hollow and dark
smooth and rigid
where can you go?

Even in death
there is no escape
from the infinite cycle
of life
of madness
of never knowing
why I am here

For every toe
may there be 2 antennae (proclaimed God, the mighty *****)
And for every eye
a tired worm.
The heart of the world
is bubbling over
it's laughing and scratching
and laughing,
oh now it's coughing.

Adrift upon the ocean, of hurricanes and sunrise, darkest dusk and heavenly dawn. The waves they grow and crash violently, and they also settle into the oblivion of still water. A black undulating surface is stained with warm golden shimmer, like a dead forgotten realm found once again by a hopeful persistence. Warmth and color fill up the cold dusty cracks and corners of existence, but order and entropy will always dance togetehr, and thus there shall always be a lonely corner waiting for the wings of grace.

Yeah but he doesn't look like a normal mailman.
Why does he wear that robe?
Does he scheme? Is his life not limited to the docile act of dropping off letters into the boxes of the innocent?
He has ulterior motive, his aura is acidic.
I've already called the neighbors.
Just watch him, that robe, his intentions are not of predictability, his agenda curls like smoke from home to home.
Keep an eye on that mailman.

The wind
it talks, you know
it stirs your soul
and whispers softly
into the depths of yourself
"Here is the mystery,
here is the point where all things
are born, and all things die.
Before existence
there was I.
After death
there I am.
I am your mother
I am your father
I am you."

To be here
what does it mean?
To rely on others
as others rely on you.
To feel the weight
of life itself.

Breathing
miraculous
mind and body
as one.

To be here
is to cry tears
because emotion
needs release
as an old body
needs death.

To feel love
and to give love
the greatest gift
wondrous opportunity.

Suffering
dressed up in a dark cloak
disguised and misunderstood
the face of grief
is that of transformation.

The mind creates conditions
the heart knows better
love together
hurt together
human beings
together.

I want nothing more than nothing
and I want nothing more than not to want
I feel so tired of feeling
feeling all these tired patterns

Stream of consciousness
leftover chili on the stove top
the shadow self is fiddling with a tangled yo-yo
hoping to use the string to trip you up
at 5 ante meridiem
when you are most vulnerable and susceptible
and you thrash in your covers
maybe the next position will be more comfortable
the mental gymnastics are in town
except instead of balance beams
you'll see crooked frowns
and slimy clowns
and then the sun wakes up
from its desperate napping
that golden tongue is dripping and lapping
the blue sky which encourages happening
and the shadow self
can't wait
to trip you up

This vessel has a name
I hear it all the time
I?
I hear it all the time?
Who?
I'll let the thought pass
wait
where did the thought come from?
Thoughts?
Whose are they? Oh yeah..
mine... mine...mine?

At night
this body falls to a thin mattress
on this wooden floor
a lone cornered lamp
set to the tone of gloom

this vulnerable mind
retracts with a cringe
as the pattern retires
to fuzzy static

The filth it crawls
from my brain to the walls
a slow burning
ill tempered
panic.

and as I lay in bed
partnered with this troubled head
confusion is my lover
and cuddles in close

just what am I?
Just what is this?
what mask will I wear
when the sun wakes me?

Fluffy dripping carpet
scarlet red and aware
yellow flowers appear
and disappear.
The sub conscious
like formless cement
liquid metallic taste
intricate intravenous
throat tube salad.
I have
have you?
The human mind
licking the nebulas
sweeping the galaxy
warm muck mesh.
Questions swim
like immature tadpoles
in the pond
of being.
We live to dine
with illusory confusion
she always orders
the most expensive wine.