The words within swell and twirl
Looking for some escape
Some outlet to dance and whirl
To make an appearance -- a shape

Within they rage
A storm that knows no end
Singing from their solemn cage
Only freedom can mend
Their wish to inhabit a page
A will no man can gauge
To whom no help can lend

Time never can quell
Those words that wish to swell
To dance and whirl and play
A power that cannot be slayed

The warm, heavy breath that surrounds every inch of my body
Soaking my skin in a tight, hard shell
I can hardly keep my head above the waters
Taking my last breath
I sink
A cocoon
Wrapped within my heavy leaden thoughts and feelings
Numbing
Slowly
Everything
I'm consumed by no-thing
Slowly rising to my chest
Consuming as it ascends
Devouring what I considered me
Soon I can't remember what I even means
Slowly slowly slowly
Down down down
I go
Is there a bottom?
Is there a light?
All I can see and feel
Is a grey
Hard
Shell
That has no boundaries
No limit
As I sink perpetually
In the leaden waters
Taking me down
To god knows where

revealed through the abstract construct of self
is the veiled luminosity
of the divine expression
known by the conscious mind as "God"
Through the narratives told and song of the olden days
are the secrets
we are seeking of human existence
the curiosity that drives, strives and obliges us
through our creation of tools, science and rationality
re-imagined by empirical objectivity
of the modern mind.

Through the messy, dis-shaped contours

of pained reflections

the light — disarrayed, distorted —

make day of the endless night.

Colors and shapes manifest

in the once dark structure

through lighted emanations

projected forth by shadowed obstructions



Tricksters by nature

the archetypal projections dance

to the beat of an unheard drum.

Animated by the refracted light,

they

dance and dance

round and round

to the incessant rhythm.



Personified vessels

of noumenal glory

slowly guiding themselves

back home.

Twisting, stretching arms
with tough, stripped brown skin
performing no harm
no sin
naught is desired but waves of gold
true love flows from such a being
two-fold is composed from the light of God
all in a day's work -- just by breathing

Billions of tiny bodies

dancing with each other eternal

incessant exhibitions of physicality

in unison and harmony fraternal

distinctive in myriad ways

a part of the whole — a role it must play

for together — the bodies that dance

construct an everlasting romance

asleep
only acknowledged when awake
trapped
seems so easy once above
the labyrinth
of physicality
illusory creations
of geometric energy.
Lost
in the wired perception of reality
forgetting
that all was taught was taught by teachers
teaching what was taught to them
not knowing the alteration
and miscommunication
developing over the generations.

only reactions
that is what defines me
how I respond
in certain situations
how I speak and spew
opinions I heard elsewhere
plagiarizing  ideas
that never really belonged to anyone

I, me, the abstract concept of "Malachi"
is an
algorithm!
a mathematical program designed to optimize relations
with continuity to any situation provided

I, concept
sleep soundly in my dream
hating, complaining, idealizing
while all opportunities
pushed my way
are ignored

for I slumber

I gave my freedom long ago
to become an automated machine
a complex voice-mail

an entity who never picks up the phone
never responding consciously

trapped in the spell of samsara
identifying with the machine

lost in the maze
no guaranteed escape

even though the exit is under my nose