the anguish of this agonised arena

where black angels

roam delusional paranoia

a commitment to life

a responsibility to death

an obedience to immense solitudes

of anticipation generated by inspirational charge

an agony of imagined dreams

found in missing time

the unattainable that no longer exists

an unrealized reality

oh the anguish of this agonised arena

this continuous invocation of other

of I of me of we

a great elucidation of emotional chaos

the outer geography of my imagination

where all is led bare

and i see the black shadow of light

qualified, qualified, qualified

I witness the carnivalesque dance of illusion

the self conscious telling of a familiar story

a darkening tone, the synthesing

of incompatible perspectives

that cause an incandescent agony

of self-inflicted wounds

caused by the somatizing of events by others

but leads to epiphanic illuminations

the transformative energies of disintigration

where all the beauty that is inherent in the ordinary

becomes clear

everthing lights up with the glow

of the quantum expansion of great silences

and I can retrieve from the unconcious

something I know but have forgotten

shall i bring death to life

and in doing so **** it

for what is death if it be life

or life if it be death

for reasoning’s in my mind

have chosen thus that both

once closed to each can be reconciled

by the life of death,

by affirmative lyrical flights

that issue forth that desperate need

that desperate need to know

to shape such understanding

into coherent form

to endure the vicious energies

that cause such enactment

an intense and exhausting experience

that such presentations and transformations

of permissible or possible effect do yield

to love and to be the companion of death

into its halls and become

one with the universal consolation

of solitary echoes

our pockets are filled with stones

in conspiratorial fabrication of fictions

as chemical colors seep

by conscious deployment of illusions

transforming human misery and violence into wit

in loquacious gestures

that fail to expose the artifice

of gender distinction

that intolerable wrong

that leaves stones in all our pockets

…they say there is a madness upon me….but what is such as this that would flay a tongue upon its speech and in so doing label that which is different insane……

all have deserted me

i am now a singularity

in a vast universe

of multiple calculations

whose flesh in punctuated breaths

speaks to a vast arraignment of eyes

whose vicarious vexatiousness

lends for vicious testimony

that would trickle from so many mouths

and make a trespass upon the truth

in treasonous tongues of false supplication

where my hand is given to sable shadows

dark, dusky specters who walk with me

show guidance in the motives of the artifice

in absolute truth

for there is no such thing

outer, inner what are realities

conscious, unconscious

differing thought that gives

tangible form to such as that

which has only existed in my imagination

when voiced indicate the delirium

of those dark despairs

that hang pitch black draperies upon the wall of my mind

in continuous distortion of ordinary motives

amplify my feelings, implosive and apocalyptic

forming an agonized arena of anguish

whose illusion is a disguise of perplexities

in a deployment of destrubing exchanges

of dubious sense that sit like a petulance

upon the mind

while I in patience stand smiling at my grief