There are no bad people and there
Are no bad things and the
Music's always playing, always ringing, always singing
Cos the music that surrounds you, penetrates you, lacerates you
Is no different from the substance of your being,
All vibrations merely differentiated unities
You are gliding through that energy field
And consciously! How strange indeed
You're a kaleidoscopic porthole into
All that can ever be
You keep moving through time,
Accidentally rhyming, caught up in the games of the intellect
And introspectively, you can't believe what your
Mind tells you you are
Because you are and you aren't
There's not one true way to know it
If a word could capture what you are,
Then it wouldn't be true
Because the thought and spoken word
Is skewed so distant from the root
But the word is just a path to understanding what the source could be
A way to help the others see
What's going on at the edges of the galaxy

It's all gone out of me, the hammer falls and I'm not ready to answer
Trembling, weakness supporting a tub of jelly
The pollen-filled air flies past like the
Pelicans at the edge of the harbor
Taking us gliding for an unpleasant ride
Down the corridors of plastic colors
Through the one word answers that bubble forth from
10,000 years away in hyperspace
Where the mechanisms of language become so convoluted
That they disappear completely out at the vanishing point
Coming up behind you again to drag you into that smoky allure
You remember hating and pinching your nose from
And hiding in the car, but the new fear is of becoming addicted to it
Just like your addiction to ego games and
Intellect, just like your addiction to pleasure and constant validation

The validation's there in the eternal self, they say
But I'm an intellectual
Too impatient for meditation
And lost along the way to enlightenment
That I truly want,
But then I'll never have it if I continue to live this way

It's wilderness calling from a tame fool
Sticking up for you the overgrown horoscope signifies
The shapes of skydives,
He comes in and out of our dull lives
And there's an electric current that solidifies between
Him, Us, and his music
Iron rods jutting up from scorched earth
A broken paradise
Crumbling in a whisky tumbler
Blackened by fiber filters, creations
Unlocked by flowing ontological
Caricatures, open wounds gnashing
At attention-seeking osteopaths
Fortune seekers clamber down
Soccer field bleachers,
Somebody lost his sneakers in the woods
Once there was a set of barbells along the trail
We fell in line and started
Counting each other
One by one it seemed like the green apples would never fall
It was up to us to wait for the shower
It would feed our kin
We'd begin to rise up together
But it could never keep up with our pen
We wanted the ghosts to follow us and overtake our mortal foes
But we couldn't command the armies of the dead
We derive all our pleasures from films and campfire stories
We contrive our adventures but we wait for them to happen to us
We take a passive role in finding love
And it blinks lights at us across suburban streets through windows in the dark
The mind begins to writhe with new memories it composed of old
An idealized time of a child with the perverse mind
Of a hogtied adolescent
Guessing that the course of existence
Isn't determined by the speed of your calculations
Testing the warm water on a naked toe
We could dive in and forget to breathe
And the water could carry us forever
Alleviating gravity
All the obstacles we perceived in past lives
Remain with us like
Chimney swifts on the bottomless April days of a
Klu Klux **** telephone operator
Who believed in the spirit and the holy ghost
And burned a quiet altar to Satan's minions every Sunday night
Drinking nail polish and
Obscure references to the films of the
Ancient Greek philosophers, who
Saw the medium as a means to a message
And patronized the elitest filmmakers to study the ancient Runes
And reveal their findings to a power-hungry public
That would not outright reject it
But that would have to follow it down the rabbit hole
Through the wide mouth of the trumpet around brass fixtures
And into the tight hot moist mouth of the trumpeter
And the elemental warriors would strike oil beneath the whole affair
Ending the time we spent hoping for any entertainment to create itself before our barren psyches
Busying ourselves with incomprehensible tasks and letting our indolence take the reins until we found our heads again out there amid the vapors of
New car chem trails and old railroad bunkers where spruce and cedar grow through cement earth, they force apart the ground with just their roots

We weren't ready to keep watch the following weekend but we
Had no choice when the government bond expired
And we had only technological solutions left to hope for
And wrongly we abandoned our research posts to fight the enemies
With giant weapons and uncreative slogans
Our drummers played so fast we marched along and killed all that remained in record doubletime
Rendering the events of that victorious day immortal in the ingenious accounts of
Philosopher/poet/historian Michael Jackson
Who gave one final performance
To save himself from what must not be

I would lay at night and hope to dream
And visualize what I'd want to see
Because the easy path to what I want to be
Was through organic virtual reality

I wanted to be by the stormy sea
In humble garb on the beach with thee
Then strip to nothing for your eyes to see
The totality of naked me

Well the dream did come and you sat with me
And with your touch drew me close to thee
And I knew to kiss you, becoming We
And in the back seat, remained in unity

But the morning came and the dream was gone
And I saw what a fool I had been to long
For that fleeting moment in a fleeting dream
And not for our union to truly BE

And nobody spoke for you
In the sea of tranquility
Only you were there, you didn't do, you didn't think,
You were
You are still
We are all there is
Everything that is
Shines within, shines without
Shines into you
Shines out from you
Spirits give you gifts when you listen for them
Windows play you music, play alive organic movies when you open them
Language clears your path for you
And language builds the world you live in
AM poems, based on dreams, mutated from the PM thoughts,
Which came from all that came to pass
And came to be that day
And all of that originated in the first ideas put forth in
AM poems, closing the loop,
And keeping us in wonder, how does this reality, all unreality, all hyperreality
Come to be and create itself and undo itself all at once?

How clear is the sky on a sunlit night
While we dress for the fire
While you and I dissolve away
And we die cell by cell
And our dust drifts away with us
And flows on the breath of the wind
That is keeping the insects aloft.
We can ride on their tiny fragile wings and they'll
Show us a life full of meaning
One of service to God
And we'll give them our energy, unaware,
Never thinking, only knowing
Even as our disembodied ego kicks over mounds and punches holes in nests
To see them swarm and multiply
Coursing fractally across our physical plane in mighty hordes
The birds swoop down and feed on their flesh
And the swarm can afford the loss
because these bugs give life to all the world
So selflessly marching on
Mechanical souls, robots of the earth
Keeping all things running smooth as clockwork

Rhythm straightening
The early morning gray looks at me
Overcast, the sky blankets me in bliss
The cool rain chills to the bone
The cool bones rattle to the ground
Skeletal street lamps illuminate dark business
The occluded acts of idleness on a weekday evening
Sitting on paved carpets and waiting for It to happen;
Today we create for ourselves
Because there is no path but our own
Through the sterile darkness of de-electrified night

The dead hyena by the highway
The leering eyes of his surviving kin
Beasts can feel the concrete start to crumble
They're waiting outside the city walls, gleaming fangs, gnashing jaws
Knowing our day has come and gone
Our soft, tender meat will be all that remains
When the tools of our dominance disintegrate
Breathing easy this late in the game
It's safe because all we can do is wait,
Or create

And on the 23rd attempt she was half-realized
But across the sea she began to see in her dreams
What her eyes on the paper stared out at from the past

She forgets dreams upon waking
She creates schemes with fake actors,
Attractive and confident people
And evil surrounds her
I don't like to be around
Fearing their presence
And she hears on the wind that I won't be returning
But all that this tells her is
Life will go on as it has since the time
When her faces were being
Configured on paper,
Her true form solidifying
With each passing club meeting
And art school submission
And throw down the gutter
And substance test warning
The morning before being
Forced to report on the innocent wives of the kinds
Who prepared what our minds
Would later consume and disintegrated
Reforming 10,000 years later
More open and flexible and appreciative and reverent
And ecstatic and creative and mindful of its functions