The air in the room is so palpable
I can sink my teeth in it
And roll it over my tongue
Like a cherry candy
Looking at the real world
Through yellow cellophane
That gives it just enough
of an unreal gloss to make me wonder.
And I realize I’m only older
When I’m not falling in love
Or having my heart broken
Because it feels the same after
5
10
20
23 years
And I wonder if I found the key
To eternal youth if not life
And if it’s any different
Then putting together a puzzle
And breaking it apart
Time after time for eternity.
I’ll live forever if I stay with you.
I feel each second on the spectrum
Of a wavelength
I feel us dip apart and pull right back
Closer and closer
As we feel each others’ frequency
Grow higher in pitch
My blood is turning to static
As we brush shoulders on the electron cloud
Only together in an instant, snapshot
Forever apart in the fluidity of time.
And I wonder if you’re making me better
Or if I found a new way to get sick.
You taste like lavender and ashes
And borrowed time
Subtle implications
And of the place I was yesteryear
And the places you’ll be when I’m gone.
And you’re fragrant with the scent
Of your old and future lovers.
And when your calloused finger
Taps my hip bone
Like the strum of an old bass
It is perfectly in tune
With the hum of my throat
And it’s vibration
Sad and sweet
and the most pleasant complication
I've ever encountered.

Though all babies are welcomed
As cherubs and innocent things
All are born of circumstance
Starving soldiers or spoiled kings.
Some children sip from silver spoons
And others taste spoons of lead.
Some mothers pinch round, chubby cheeks
Others cannot keep them fed.
I know my child’s only fault
Is that he was born to me.
Destined never to witness Rome,
Due to my own poverty.
I tell my son what mothers do,
That he can do all he dreams,
But late at night, I bury tears
For someone told that to me.
I look into his eyes like mine,
And wish I’d set my lover free
So he had found a finer half
And loved someone more than me.
I too was born from circumstance,
I too was careful to dream
But still I dream for my son,
Most of all, that he is more than me.

On the drive to my mother's house
I noticed the streets were alive.
The rural dead was lit up
with sedans and vans on a drive
I thought it strange on this road
when usually, I saw not a soul.
Many mothers just like mine,
must stay in the rural gold.
And I thought myself not quite wrong,
But not quite right, when I saw the cause
They turned to the cemetery on the left
While I myself drove on.  
Many years later, I used my signal,
to tell those behind me of my woe
as I made a left on mother's day
with no where else to go.
I felt the pity of the drivers,
as they drove on past me.
I looked in the rearview one last time,
Full of wisdom, but full of envy.

I swim through tremendous oceans,
through waters of worry and crisis shoals
paranoia forms a tidal wave,
that threatens to swallow me whole.
The currents are strong against me
to swim, I try my best
and soon I am tired and lost,
and ****** into the depths.
I see anger's buoy beckon,
but I know that is no better.
I can cling to it for long,
but I cannot cling forever
My arms would soon tire
and away, I'd soon be swept
Once more gasping and fighting
Against the gravity of the depths
Lost at sea, is the sailor
who did not follow the sun.
And if he looks down in shame,
He will not see the stars point on.
When rescue ships are far and few
and supplies are back on beach
I sigh and think of shorelines,
that I know are out of reach.
I want to float on my back,
and let the waves take me home,
The search party stopped looking,
For too long I've been gone.
But it takes a strong swimmer
to make it back to shore,
when one is this far out,
and I cannot swim anymore.
As the waves roll beneath,
and try to pull me under
while the gale whips salt
to tear me asunder
The pull grows stronger
and the water surrounds me
and what I long for most,
is that I did not fear drowning.

In my darkest moments
Of loneliness and loss
A vision did intervene
On my journey to the cross
And this beacon gave me cause
to for once stop and turn
I averted my eyes from my path
Unsure of what I'd learn
Light shone through a prism
and filled me like wanting reservoir
each color took my breath away
A light glaring from afar
With trepidation I did move
my feet from intended course
and my desire for the light
overcame my fear of remorse
I begged for the rays to bathe me
in their holy hue
More and more I felt it's warmth,
More and more it grew.
I yearn for it arms outstretched
to revolve in it's cosmic pull
I surrendered my ego to the footpath
and then I surrendered my soul.
I kneel in wistful worship
as solemn as a stone
I've waited for this all my life,
a light to guide me home.

The ***** addict has change it's face,
but not it's disease.
It is me.
It is your mother.
It is you.
"It is not."
It is.
And it is infinite.
For so long as people
are burdened by the illusion,
so they seek to disperse the fog.
What they seek is not distortion,
but clarity.
What they seek is not fantasy,
but reality.
A new reality
that works for them.
Where they don't work for it.
Where they don't participate
as a rusted cog
spinning in perpetual circles
to power a machine
that lights a projection
of what ought to be,
and what ought not to be
for all the the world to watch
on hamster wheels.
But  the ***** addict knows risk.
That each time could be
the last time.
But this world has only
two types of people.
Participants.
And non-cooperatives.
There is not room for both.
The ***** addict is offered
a consolation package
of pharmaceutical bonbons
but given the same soap opera
each time.
So they fade into the black
I know it is no cure,
because they are not sick.
It is not addiction,
that they seek to fulfill.
It is peace.
And the current reality
does not allow for peace.
And I just wonder to myself,
if maybe
they are not wrong.

Propaganda pills
dutifully swallowed
to preserve the integrity
of a world proven hollow
To sieve the spirit
through regulation holes
To protect the body
and to dissolve the soul
To maintain the order
To profit off the rotten
The white man seeks the answer
The native has not forgotten.