This is the first moment that ever was, the crossing metal beams and glass panes,
The blurred reflections of finely polished tabletops
The meticulous tangles of crinkly hair in a variety of unique styles
All murmur to me from a shared experience of eternity
Reminding me that I should
Wake up
All the past is here with me
Unsteady, unwieldy
All the past is waiting for me to open the door and let it be free
And when I do I too will be free
For I am the past even more than the past is me
But I too am the future
As is the past
But I can't let past become future
If I don't WAKE UP
I'll be DEAD soon
Here I am, at WAKE tech*
'Twould be the height of ignorance
Not to see the message
Wake up.
Wake up.
Here I am for the first time in my life
The empty branches never held life, even losing it now
They are not characters of linear narratives
Even the happiness of unions between me and me again
They are born today, none share histories but those they've writ themselves
Wake up.
Remember that time,
So present,
It slipped away
That short synchronous gateway
When I broke through,
When I was nearly awake.
That time is not gone.
Look, look down,
You're wearing a t-shirt from Cup a Joe,
The place where you nearly woke up
Look down, your umbilical cord was cut
And you lived there
On Hillsborough Street,
Just past Cup a Joe
And a beautiful woman right above your head
WORKS there, the mythic place
Where you, where I nearly awoke.
How absurd, to think all would decide to converge there
Independently of each other
It was written
Before all began,
And now begins Time, untime
Now it begins

Remember? Look down, she said
"Be here, Be Here Now"--but remember? HE said Be Here Now
And here I were--
There I was
Impossible, yes, I know
But do you really want to pretend
That it matters
what's
POSSIBLE?

Anomic gloom and arrogant fear
Every invisible rumbling is a machine bent on my death.
Nothing conveys me to power
For I'm left to retroactively question each choice I make
As if logic was absent and I wasn't acting by choice
But impelled to be insolent
By the inner rust and complicated working
Of my meat-and-bones practice run
For my Faberge machine body
             (even as I admit this
I wrench open a kind of window
Into a mostly forgotten dream
Of a conference with some kind of
Goddess)
I'll soon be surprised
With a sudden initiation into reality
Elfin mischief and hysterical laughter spiraling around me in a climactic fireworks display
"This is really happening. This is what it was all about. This is what it's all been leading towards. This is where there's no turning back" it laughs in my face as the agony of endless ****** nearly knocks me senseless and motionless
There are souls caught up in the works and the kingdom of heaven is in disarray as we sort out our identity crisis of species here on profane planet earth. Gaia holds her breath and hopes we do not leave too big a mark when we explode ourselves.

We can learn to fly wrapped in bedsheets
There are vibrations through every living thing,
That includes the inanimate,
These vibrations are at your control
When you learn to accept the chaos
Underlying consciousness
The ordered structures we perceive are fluid,
Physical boundaries, laws and regulations
Mean nothing when you traverse
Chaos


Driving through a rain cloud on level with the
Circling patterns of eagle flight
The brain is mapping its own neurology,
Coming alive the way it did
When it could still dream and imagine

Who started the electric feeling
The ones that were trying like icing to find their way in through the watch tower. "Look at us" they said, peering closer, and not knowing where to look next, continued, "we haven't been traveling long, we started 3 months from now."
Granted permissible service the federal agent eyes the floor and whispers back, "We know this kind, we've seen what happens to them when they reach the past. Let's stop them From ever accomplishing by destroying the future, thus obliterating the past."
The federal agent caught on to the fact that the physical action of writing has always been planted inside them to remind them as they've reached death how to get back into the past

We're viewing from the inside
So we can't see the real way in

night
every
us home
driving
been
who's
Witness
A surprise
Can outrun
Of Disguise
A Force
How
many
sacred
by a
been proven
It's

Who do you think leads us
When we find it there at the top of the mountain
The sky a sweating forcefield
Defending  an unknowable cannibal society from the rages of brutality
No lifeguards here at the sidewalk hot dog stand
No golf carts swerving in and out of lanes
On a neighborhood parkway
Our footsteps bend back with tension
Where we face a collision course
With a culture three short steps removed
And left to warp and mutate in the lee of the stone
Where sands of time blow sparingly
To the pace of a sputtering tractor motor

Nodding off
With darkness coalescing
As I close my eyes
Anthropomorphic shadows slink
And in my open, snoring mouth
Put back the words I've tried to spill
And seal them there within

Not far from home, not far
Small difference here, one there
Though miles and mountains have roped us away
Not much separates us at all

The same asphalt earth at our feet
And petroleum smog, only stronger
The rest is an outsized cartoon of our home
The same symbols drawn broader and bright

The twang of these voices may vibrate
Familiar strings of my soul
But this lamentable facet,
Like the barren mountainside,
Obliterated by thoughtless greed
Makes me ache in those very familial chords