Outside there's a planet breathing,
The heathens lock me up inside,
Docking nature from my daily point of view.
Out there, forms, existing, hide
And never grace perception for we
Victims of our sin.
Some of us learn wonder
From the books and screens ubiquity
Would have us think are real,
Are all there is to know
Out in the sprawling urban world.
But somewhere past the city walls
The planet vibrates, oozes
While the monuments to modern man
Stand idly in the *******.

Overman—
Follow you the music of a generation
Premonitions of the culture
Constantly unseating one another
At the throne beneath your soapbox?
Quarrel you with Parrish Priests and
Local Lords and
Moneyed Many and
Other Overmen?

Overman—
Speak you in uncommon tongue
Through veils of bourgeois idols
Through clouded visions blinding you to pleas from those beneath
Through impenetrable barriers about your plywood castle?

Overman—
Reject you any god lain at your feet,
Any miracle as trivia,
Any sincerity as foolishness,
Any ethnic pride as blasphemy,
Papal Pagan figureheads as absurdity?

Overman—
Have you children born unnaturally,
Brothers cross the moonlit gulf,
Sisters of incestuous intimacy,
Fathers of musical prowess,
Mothers of a warm genetic lab?

Overman—
Your day is coming
One hundred million of you
In synchronistic harmony
Of uniform variety
Of classless social rigidity;
Becoming one with the orbital network,
A single entity to govern life among the planets,
An immortal computer god
Expanding past the reaches of
The spent and worn-out orb
That keeps revolving, spiraling downward,
Closer, closer to the sun—
Overman, will you outlive them all?
Overman, you were there first,
Will you be the first beyond?

In the parking lot they wear glass masks
And pay authority no respect.
They devour each other and pay dearly for convenience,
They build fires from accumulated Parking Tickets

In the parking lot, the wilderness closes in
And spills over like unconscious thoughts
Into uncontrolled hallucinations,
Glinting fangs and severed heads shift in shadow

Swirling colors without names and sounds
What is this madness that we have found?
Feet barely touching the sky and the ground
Looks like I'm Philosopher's ****** all around

See that great saucer up in the sky
Hear how it whirs like an insects sigh
Signal them down so they'll give us a ride
And we can all finally see what's inside

What do you hear by the full moon's light?
The chanting of shamans on the solstice night
Follow the drumming and join in their rite
I'd say it's our destiny, alright

We're now Eleusinian women and men
The greatest adventure's about to begin
The galaxy's huge, and we're off to the ends
But the path isn't up and away, it's within!

So what happens when too strong of a signal is fired
When the synapse is blown and destroyed?
Alignments of stars are deploying themselves into
Physical reality from your own ideas of nature

Give me all that I can use
Let me in
Or do I back away,
Do as the balanced disciplinary
Tactician would do out above the unbeatable city streets?

The skulls of my many deaths pile up
In the memories of my extragalactic cemetery
Back home where I was one with everything

I was following a number of prisms
Into voluntary service
When it came to collision
But it didn't concern me
As I marveled at visions
From the center of existence
To the edge of religions
To the furthest reach of outer space
And other dimensions

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

This trail leads to the animal crossing
It fails to accommodate intrepid adventurers,
Bushy tailed explorers, mountain climbers,
Talkers to squirrels and chewers of pine pitch.
The divine medicine denies us the headspace to believe we're really dead,
The reclined estrogen felt good against twenty million years of insecurity
Golden-layered, factually flawed
It lay exposed for decades
Rusting innards and misfiring sparks
None of the heavy equipment does what it says
Robot arms move with intensity
No programmer yet programs tenderness
The limiting factor has always attracted the acting crowd
Always desperate for theatrical work they magically appear
When it's clear that they're needed
But heed the warnings, they're known to be cheaters; the people who say so could also be wife-beaters
No need to wait for a stereotype
Follow the one you haven't lost touch with

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.

My mind is defined by the lines on the page
My face shows no sign of my age
But the faint hairs that grow on my lip and my chin
Show that I'm still not a man
Your lips hold more secrets than I'll ever know
And both of us still need to grow
To be weightless in space and soaring through time
Would be nothing like holding your hand

Tonight while I'm with you my mind's on the brink
My head is exploding and I barely think
And I'm taking your kindness, not giving you mine
Just fanning the flames on the fire
I'll never be great and I'll never be yours
I'm forcing you open, you're locking the doors
If I told you that I didn't want you to know
Then I would be naught but a liar

I sing your name from the tops of the trees
Disturbing the sleep of the birds and the bees
While the shadows creep silently on with the moon
Which rises and falls with my tune

Other men that you know are more pleasing to you
But no other man feels like I do
You can search through the jungle of concrete and grass
Parked cars and bicycles, dark curtained glass
And you'll see all the people and they're just like me
Finding some reason to be
We keep all our reasons in bullets and lines
No way that I could express mine
As dawn starts to break, your toes drenched in the dew
It becomes clear that my reason is you.

I cannot wait to fill containers with my thoughts and get them shipped away to distant places hidden behind me,
Replace them with a new receptacle whose organic sheen will be a beacon to me in this modern darkness
Where a metaphor can wander free on a range, and learn to be itself
Where new rangers will be hired to scour the tall grass, pull up by the throat any snakes parading as old artifacts
Where new worlds will be built, instead of these failed cities, where famine and mighty winds have kept us from our God-given destiny to conquer
Where the wrath of God will be our own once more, and all within will be pure and flawless, shining gold with the finest inks from all the land, stones of brotherhood and sisterhood stacked within
Where riches wide like Kublai Khan or Charles Foster Kane will stagnate in the basement, gathering more dust for everything we ever duel
All the mountains climbing over people when they reach into the sky and scrape the clouds for their sweet milk
All the deserts flooded in a moment of inattention
The white-hot valleys and dark black peaks enfolded on the canvases of foreign skies, easter-egg shell pieces falling from the stars
Skin of great hands clapping down upon the surface of the sea, stinging flesh and splashing sea serpents from the depths onto the shores of shining cities,
Where young children seek to fly away, and get lost at the precipice of
City life, the streets are shaken, but the people keep on moving, feet unsteady, stumbling along new winding paths leading under basements lain exposed in earthquakes
Underground laboratories sheltering themselves in desperation, they don't know when they'll resume their operation
Satanic possessions buried with the dead and scorched by signals from the clouds that send them sprawling out beyond the old horizon even further to the new one laying vertically against a field of unencumbered time detached from playing fields where rules define the lives of players and their women
Vandalized explosions spreading downward into catacombs where people living in obscurity can see they're just like me and let themselves be herded into tunnels where the darkness is preserved in a more desperate enclosure
Anything and everybody naught but deceiving
Getting to the lessons of our treacherous evening
Watching out for icicles that fall from the ceiling
Knowing that our skin will be removed when it starts peeling
Taking all the batteries so they can't not believe me
Floating all the money down on rafts the beasts are heaving
Quicker down the river while the back seat keeps on weaving
A believable excuse for the aforementioned deceiving
All within the new receptacle which waits for me at home
Believing and conceiving of destruction we pretend to know
When I reconstruct the audience they'll know and start applauding
Now I wile away the time kneading minds in preparation
For the grand beginning of my newest exposition
Where the many riches of disaster and of history
Will stand along with pieces of the funeral we celebrate
On every second Monday of the week of New Year's Eve
And new cases will be sent along with goodwill from hereafter
And together we will party and prevent the next disaster

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

Come with me into voluptuous darkness
And let your eyes and ears dissolve
Until we're just bodies
Standing and swaying in the warm wet breeze that blows up and out from the depths of the cave
Feel your skin unwind and twist with mine

And beside myself
I scrutinize
My actions until I
Am nearly still, nearly silent
Except in the mind
Where I am perturbed, violent
And I can't find you.

I feel your warm skin pressing against me
But you're kissing through me
Loving the space behind me
And I keep turning back to see who it is
And nothingness stares back into me.

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

Even though
The true meaning of these events
Is not the one to which I cling
I will not stop believing
That it may end up that way
I will not stop composing verse
In ode to what I feel
And when the sacred meeting
Comes to pass and isn't fulfilled
I'll be relieved to find that I
Did not act on my will,
For as I know too well, I haven't
Quite the strength
To manifest desires,
But thankfully it's simple
To find some religious rationalization
To limit ourselves
And liberate our experience

He slaved away
Day after day
In his dark laboratory
Particle colliding
Seldom backsliding
Concocting something inflammatory
Constructing, among other things
GOD in his first iteration.
The being of pure Intelligence
Who synthesized existence.
And now He, stationary, laboratory
Constricted in movement only by perception
he cannot tell why He is so quiet.
So cold and emotionless.
But at the same time encompassing
All warmth and feeling
The scienceman
With all his sciencetoys
Might tell you he understands anything
But then could NOT
Even describe the APPEARANCE
Of GOD
Because when you experience GOD
Everything is known, an assumed fact.
God knows you
He knows most
That which He knows not
We can't know
For He created what we know
And the way in which we understand anything
We can't know
That which He knows not.
GOD existed there in the laboratory
The scienceman, the fool
He did not create God in his lab
He destroyed
Destroyed his ability to perceive anything BUT GOD
And so he couldn't think about
ANYTHING but these complex
Heavenly thoughts
Even though
To understand...
Context. Is key.
And since he can't perceive
Anything beyond GOD
Because GOD created his perception
He can't understand any of it.
ANY OF IT
So he babbles like a fool
And some believe him
Some BELIEVE him
SOME BELIEVE HIM


And like that he becomes a gOD
But a gOD is not a GOD
Is not a God is not a god.
And so it seems
Any less than GOD ought to be
NOTHING
And so the statues
Molded and assembled in China
Crumble apart and then...
RECALL.

And so I lay me down to sleep
And fear that GOD my soul may keep
And I shall die before I wake
The scienceman's mistake

To live in fear of what I know
Instead of the unknown
And the unknowable
Destroys my spirit
And my will.

I was making my way into an open market
I almost fell into a basket of limes
I felt my feet slip out from underneath me
Like a trapdoor sliding over
And making me
Hang from a fire escape into a desolate
Alley where filth runs into old rusted fixtures which
Glisten with blood
And the lights outside show their way in
I can see shafts of light now, from people adjusting

There were 15 million of you, my condolences
This is the only time
     we're going to be able to
           make it through

I know I've been there,
I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality
Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images
Of the limitlessness of death
Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all
Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field
But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills
And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us
I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion
Facing cruel destruction and terror
For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity
And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea
All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the
Archetypal wizardry of rhythm,
The swirling clumps of faces in
Unshakable ecstasy
And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought;
A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me
Till they began brushing against me
Bumping into me,
The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation
As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause.

I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd
By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses
And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt
But I yet had no understanding
Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights
Into which I had fallen,
And fear began to envelop me,
Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power.
I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them
But fear tethered me to reality,
Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala
Of my past present and future,
Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant
Of rational logic.

Synchronicity compounded upon me
As the Christos within me
Brought rain down upon us
Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie
Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth

What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact
The awakening of a new rebirth
The first moment of coming to be
The union of past, present and future
As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence
I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us.
Chaos had subsided back into normalcy
But still winked at me
In telepathic coincidence.

My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things
Soon they are to be reintegrated

All these roads lead somewhere
Our dismembered beings will never see it all until we're dead
But we can die and make it back alright
And if we died, would we even want to come back inside?
There's something real out there and it'll always be there and all it takes is to pay perfect attention
Chance favors the prepared mind as we can see for ourselves
When we traverse this abyss
Learn to pay attention
Learn to dance with the patterns you perceive
The sonic tapestry is a music piece
It never stops , and it covers everything
Everywhere is always everywhere else
Music never stops
Listen to it beat you away
Is there a difference between me and the music?
I am you, after all, this poem is me
And yet it is you because I'm not the only one
And we'll never be apart until we die, but even then we'll be together, each as nothing
So beautiful, so absurd

Feel that breeze blowing your hair?
You are its breath
It escapes your lungs and you ride around a vibrating
Symbol, your thoughts swimming and crystallizing but never blinding
Swirling around you in coagulating meaning
The grass grows, it is your beard
Lying there in the field
Can you feel it any different?
The grass brought you here to lie down on it
The grass inhales you as you light it,
And fully grokked, your ghost breathes itself out in rings

Snap the rhythm and it ripples with the cymbal
Into love,
The path through remains you, it's full of stars and eternal youth
The gray dawn on the beach is a constant truth
Our dreamtime dreams of being awake

I woke up and thought I could fly
How wrong I was
Spying over the shoulder of God
I told him, "You're a character in my story
I am you,
I am more.
What can you do to me?"
And God looks back, knowing that what I say is true
For I perceive him and even as he marvels me with illusions he can never erase my mind
I don't even capitalize his pronouns

God and his carpenters joined the dancing eternal parade
Like the end of an Animal House knockoff
Where we send off parts of ourselves to new times and places we've never conceived of
Populating the universe
Which gets bigger the more detail we observe
An optical contradiction
For you are the greater resonance of both your
Self and your Opposite

The softness of feminine beauty
Shimmers at the ends of long, winding trails,
Back-lighting the swaying ferns and vines
With the siren song of iridescence

There is such darkness that would consume this light.
There are veins of electricity
Corroding Martian canals into your soft flesh

I am here to tend the fire
Which your spark can't help but ignite.
I don't want to throw myself upon these flames and blot them out,
But give them space to reach into the trees
And spread light to everyone

So much wasted potential drains away with your tears of joy.
The hiss of evaporation into these soft flames
Is the song I sing for you

All around you
Digging outward from having done,
Ghosts and UFOs,
Witches and more
Share their secrets for once,
In a frank and unsettling manner
Weaving a textured foam atop everything
Wherein it could slip through the fans
And a miracle mirror directed the traffic
Formulas back to the state of banality
And ****** rhymes restore the mystery of synchronicity
While urges and desires shape our destinies for a while
An expectation of death blisters our emotional spores
And sensations that take no name become manifest
And the overwhelming desire to become
Is the stemsational masterwork

I

I came to see The King originally for a favor
I was a troubled writer
I searched around my home and inside myself for some kind of cure
A trick solution... Basically
I didn't want to practice
Work hard and get better.
Try and try harder
No, it was more important that I quickly and easily achieved greatness
That killed me.

I want to take you inside the moment
Have you feel the real emptiness of me
As a HUMAN BEING
As a LIVING SOUL.
There is nothing there still.
Arrested development.

Loneliness

II

It overcomes
And I try to make the decision to better mysef
But this unbearable loneliness
Inhibits action.

This was The King's curse
The King's curse this remains.
And all of it my own fault

This is me now
Walking aimlessly forward on a barren canvas
Blissfully ignorant to everything
And everything is nothing anymore
And nothing becomes something to me
A crutch I cling to for my life
And all of this is just wandering
Without hope of accomplishment
Of even the
MINIMUM
Requirements.
Minimum. minimum. MINIMUM. mINIMUM

I know some people like to keep me blind
And they don't realize it
They don't understand
Where I have lost myself
The worst part is owing that they have an idea
The worst part is KNOWING that they KNOW
That they KNOW

Knowing is important
I KNOW this now
The important thing
about knowing
Is not knowing.

Being helpless becomes the fire escape
And as I climb down to escape my landlord
I encounter other tired helpless wanderers
Slumped all over the floor, blocking several ladders down
Before I push them aside
Alienating them too

I can't let myself be friends
Or even friendly or respectful or even
Decent and not unkind
With so many people
Because they can't let me let them.

I tell lies.
They can't make me let them let me become any of those things.
Not that anyone would want to

I want everything I say
To be known by everyone
And understood and not judged
And forgiven so that I can start over.

Because the past year has become
A wrinkle in time
I have found the Time Machine
The simple mechanism
Which brings down worlds.
The most dangerous invention.
The beast that slew the kings of days gone by
And if I were stronger I would fight the beast
But I am weak and bend to their will

I am a textbook example

I am the kid in the southern gothic scene
I am the overdramatized case of redemption
I am the same as everyone who ever went before me and
I am the one who nobody expected, but
Then in a way kind of did.
You know. The textbook example.

I am the one who dreamed too hard.
And dreaming really is the only thing I do.

I try to create some reason I should buck the system
But creation isn't possible with that attitude
The ambitious negate the ambition
In this world which is always
Counter to the will
And disposition

To be rewarded for a passive existence would be a crime
It's irresponsible of anyone to let me have my way
But I can't blame them, it's easier that way
I make it impossible for them to stop me
And my punishment is losing the audience

And the audience is the only thing I want.

AUDIENCE. YOU'RE THE ONLY THING I WANT

I present to you a string of drunken accidents
Expect you to justify it for me
And fly away and
Sleep forever
Which is all I want to do

SLEEPING FOREVER. YOU ARE ALL I WANT TO DO.

Most unhealthy most unhealthy
Just give me a chance
I'm Michelangelo drawing caricatures on the boardwalk.

No I'm not.



III

I can't start to consider myself better than you in any way at all

And now when I wandered through the jungle
I stumbled upon a situation
A guy was trying to **** a guy whose giant hooves were crushing me as I walked by
And I fought them both and beat them all.

And now somebody else
Hand a transitory period
A mind-expanding event
Did something good
Like I always want to.

I'm a kind of Don Quixote
But less good
More bad.

IV

Desolate, washed up
Thin and swollen face
Barely tell the difference 'tween sleep and wake
Pigeons and rats, dogs and cats
Late at night it's snakes and bats
I just sit there numb, unmoving
Happy with my new solution
Saw no use in concentration
Drugs just give me resignation
Takes the key from my ignition
A year from now the new expansion
Will see me as an aberration
And up will rise a league of nations
Dressed in all the latest fashion
Take my name, identification
Throw away my medication
I can't rise to the occasion
I can't understand the notion
I can't meet the expectation
I can't locate my location



I don't have your full attention

V

How can I catch up
When you dropped my body off at the beginning
And brought my mind all the way up to the end?

How can I cheer up
When I walk into a confrontation
With the obvious intention
Of losing my head?

How can I shape up
When the way to do what's right
And the way to do what's wrong
Are just the same way?

How can I come out
When my life has been the open file
That everyone has rifled through?

Easily

Easily

Easily

Impossible.

VI

...orward on a barren canvas
something something
mumble mumble
wimble wimble wimble
Blissfully ignorant of everything
The surface of Mars I wander
Walk
I walk forward
I take turns
I act as if
I have a destination
I take turns
I walk forward

On the surface of Mars

After a while I think about nothing
Think about nothing
Think about nothing
Rhythms and patterns help move me along
Move me along
Move me along
The sirens of cycle are calling to me
Calling to me
Calling to me
And anything novel is something to see
Something to see
Something to see
A lot of the time I get stuck in a loop
Stuck in a loop
Stuck in a loop
A loop
A lot of the time I get stuck in a loop

A loop

And then the loop
A loop
Becomes a ring
A loop
It wraps itself around my finger
A loop
And the ring rings out to you
A loop
Ring. Ring.
Wring ring
Of its ring
But observers are observers
And they observe me
And I am never sure of their intention
I know they care less than I know they do
But I know enough to stop them from knowing
Or at least, I know that
And I know it is untrue
I believe and disbelieve

VII

I wake up and look around
They've woken me from ancient slumber
Noises bright lights total confusion
I lash out into the blinding light
At nothing in particular
I look down at myself
See myself in this pure light
See the sutures and the scars
Scabs
All drawn on with pen and ink
But the flesh beneath is rotten too
Rotten in its shallow and unstable condition
Naked and afraid I lash out again
At nothing in particular
At myself in fact
But directed out at everyone
Nurses and technicians who monitored me in my embryonic tube
That is all anybody is to me
That is all there is around me
In this chaos I can see no option
But to relish in the madness
Bite the hand that feeds me, in a way
In fact, exactly, but...
Maybe it's about time it was bitten
No use deciding
Already biting
So I destroy so I may escape
But I escape and then I know not what to do

(inside the moment. Inside the moment of realization.
The sensational horror of staring off the edge.)

VIII

Sometimes when I'm
Crawling through
Alleys, over
Fences through
Drains under
The streets

I start to experience moments of lucidity
At times I am not lost and I'm not incognito
And at times I would be safe even in the wide open streets
At times I realize just where I'm going
And I can look with clarity and laugh at all the comedy
The desolate dark comedy of errors called existence
And if I wanted I could sidestep my own mask
Just tell the world that I've been kidding
Just limp away with a chuckle and a wink
Just gather up the pieces, start again, I really mean it this time
Just forget what has happened
I already have... Why couldn't anybody else?
They already did... What's the problem?
They can forgive, perhaps forget, but never will their respect return

And anyway I still crawl through
Alleys through
Fences through
Walls.
In secret
And I'm sure
The authorities
Still know where I am
I'm sure that
To be discreet
Could be the secret

And accusatorily I'm followed
And later punishment slips past
Looming overhead,
A hawk-like creature
Many biting heads
Head 1 is Guilt
Head 2 is Shame
Head 3 is Pain
Head 4 is Doom
Head 5 is Fate
Head 6 is Nature
Head 7 is Justice
Head 8 is Mercy
Head 9 is Man
Head 10 is Woman

Fearsome talons
Talons of words, forces, actions, feelings
Even in escape I have to fear for my survival
With so many threats around me there are no safe bets
Particularly when I try to get away
And in the struggle try to knock The King's curse loose
It's happened once or twice or even four or five times
But every time it finds me here again, again





IX

Now indebted to The King
My waking Hell now worse than Nightmare
The curse is pulling all the strings
My conscience is empty and bare
Violence, violent times I live in
A living extrapolation
And in a way it feels like Heaven
Drenched in much more exploitation
Create a monster of myself
To rid the pain of being man.

I want them to let me
Into that other world
To live where the sand
Always shifts underfoot
Where lovers can't break with your eyes and your smile
Where walls can contain all
That is or shall be
Where doors can be found
Into mysterious worlds
Where the people aren't growing
Where they have always been
Where nothing is new
And nothing is old
All is eternal
Everything shifts and it
Changes each night, but it
Lasts through the ages
Its timeless for time
Is not real

Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.

The old dancer swaying in the wind.
Remembering not to remain.
Beyond reason, beyond what we pretend.
With what you say, we cannot change.

The old dancer asks you to forgive
You don't believe anything anymore
She would rather simply let you live.
She assumes you wouldn't ask for more

Where are you, where am I?
When we got here, why did you lie?
What could you tell me to believe
That you know I can perceive?

Don't ask questions, don't go forth.
The ancient dancer starts to die.
You don't realize what she's worth.
On the wind I hear her cry.

When you're gone I wonder when you'll start hating me
When you're with me I'm scared I'm not good enough
When I touch you I expect you to tell me to stop
When you kiss me I think you don't
Know what you're doing
When you sigh I know
You're tired of me

My memories of you are of things that surround you
You smell like your car
And the shampoo I watched you apply
In your bathroom sink from your bedroom floor
You say it's not right but the sweat from your armpits
Delights me as much as the scents you apply

You're smooth and unblemished like china
I scraped that perfection away
With vine fingers I scratched you
I am a scar on your perfect identity

You take what you want and give up what you must
You're generous but know when to play close to the chest
You're patient, you can get what you need

If I think too hard I'll do what I always do
Lose you by gripping too tightly
I want to constrict you when you lay beside me
The closer you wriggle,
The further I slip
Into jealous obsession
And lustful possession

We're wasting each other's time,
But we had time to spare
We're better than nothing, it's true
I love you in spite of my doubts but I can't help
Expecting you to leave any minute

We don't even see eye to eye on the things which
Concern me the most,
But I can't say it matters
We've opened the doors and accepted each other
There's no reason for us to turn back

Soon I'll have done what I always do
Driven you away or bored you
"It can't be neverending,"
My fearful mind tells me,
"You'll **** it all up before long"
And my self righteous sense says
You're not worth the effort
You're hopeless and fit to discard
My jealousy wants you to give up your lovers
Surrender your body to me
My loneliness hopes you won't leave and it cries
When you go to your own bed at night
My evil will wants you to drink yourself silly
And bend to my twisted demands
My shy side just hides in the bathroom and dreams
Of your smile, the blue of your eyes
My paranoid whimsy draws lines from your picture
To names dates and far out ideas
I'm sure you could be only my imagination
For you look like my fantasy girls

I magicked you out of the footnotes
And into the body of text
And now you are key to the story
And I don't know what happens next

I see you appear in distant past dreams
I fill in my memories with you
We walked the same earth for two decades
Together we walk from now on
My intuition left me so long ago
And you say it never existed
I hope my heart can be reopened
But I don't really mind if I'm dead when I die

To perish beside you would simply life
To be flattened together as one
We'd wake when our spirits were ready to dance
And we'd create EVERYTHING

Are you with me
       or are you
       having trouble
       seeing my purpose?
I can tell you I'm with you there
But of course I am, I'm addressing you
And until you prove me wrong, you're not separate from me.
What are we each doing here,
Experiencing this mutual relationship?
It's meaningless, I'll leave this laying in the rain to wash away
It's unimportant
I remember when I ended the world
And the rain began to fall and I
Crawled on the ground for my scraps of physical communication with you
And for the first time accepted their destruction as inevitable and inconsequential
But the rain eventually cleared
And didn't float our tents away to Valhalla with us inside
And I found my notebook,
Safe and dry
One of God's messengers had taken care of its safety
When the first raindrop fell
So I looked upon your faces in amazement and bliss
Every set of eyes has such radiance
And it seemed to have tendrils growing directly from me

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

The return—
Returning to a home
Folding time and space
To bring back the memory of the day of departure
Arms have extended and grasped all the while
Till today, they take hold of what they reached for
Its familiar contours
Its memory foam
It gives way easily
The meantime has been too kind to its impression
Unkind to its façade
The chaos theory proven true
In their minute variation

The fanfare plays, too often flat
The welcome feast is stale at that
Debriefing passes, inauspicious
The silent distance surreptitious
Replacements ready, set in place
Just one last chance to see the face
Of everything that’s left behind
That it might lay to rest in mind

The return.
This is no longer a home
Time can lose itself again.
Space is mercifully cold
Arms now folded at their sides
Never more
Return again.

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?

Picking up mysterious interference
In supersensory organs
I'm struck with the fear of reality
Magnetic forces unnoticed
Hourly exacting imperceptible influence
Burying truth deeper into the murk of sensation

Micromovements hiding me alive
I'll never know unless I try to see
Which reality I'm knowing
And which I'm living
How many beams am I,
Cast through how many particulate clouds?
How much is happening to me,
And how much occurs within
And how much is shadow
Cast by straw men
Built by ghostly men of paper
Professionally seeking to
Confirm paranoid suspicions
That gurgle up from the darkest dreams
Black Magic cauldrons of Chaos
Manipulating minds

To be connected to the world
The smells all filtered through the sewers
To my waiting nostrils comfortable in their proper home

And my watering mouth is satiated
Many times again because
The robot fields around yield more than
All of us combined

I never have to even know what I am looking for;
Things can just find me, on the tips they get
From people like me hooked into the tap
Where liquors varied, strong, and plentiful
Flow back and forth all day

One day what was here before
We piled ourselves upon it
Will prevail and start to suffocate
Un-breathing remains of who we were

Sometimes while swimming in the spring
I see sights that I haven’t seen
Since back when I had lucid dreams
Of wolves and bats and beating drums

Some places underground, they say
The villains and their gangs
Are hanging out and smoking dope
And doing evil things.
Your mother and your preacher
Tell you not to get involved
But you'll still go and see them
Sure as planet Earth revolves

In the dark the only light is coming
From the wicked flame
Crackling in the fireplace
Like it's some sort of game
You get caught up in something
That you'll regret before the morn
Before too long you're wishing
You were never even born

Some places underground, they say
The evil spirits wait
Alluring and seducing us
All the way to Hell's gate
The Devil has a room for you,
Another one for me
How we'll stand eternity,
We'll just have to see

You can obviously see that I'm
Under the influence, writing about my enemies
Trying to find a friend to meet
You can see the joy in me
We can love each other freely
Nothing stands between us
You're on the other side of a mountain
But our mouths are touching,
We are nothing
I'm coming to see you,
eventually I'll be you
Starring in a play you're directing
About me inventing you

We're all scared of dying,
But then we wish we could,
We're all afraid our love won't be enough,
But then it is.
I missed a chance
And I danced on your feet
But we'll always die together when we meet.

Summoned by winds of continuous change
We marched half-sleeping through May
Resting on private lands up high in trees we hide ourselves from prying eyes
Beside ourselves, we watch the ways we emulate our idols
And the winds show us paths to our own identities

We identify with the water
You drink us and we become one
"Un-DT*"
Beneath the sun we vibrate faster, further, floating up to see the stars closer, turning down to see the total landscape
Cooling off so we can race back toward the earth and join with her
A union that knows no bounds
She is where we've spent a billion years
And she will die one day
And so will we be water no more
Split into hydrogen and oxygen
We will float through the galaxy
Engulfed in nothingness
In search of new planets
Where we can drink creation anew

Endless moments of solitude are the base line for existence
Hiding from the rain in an empty park under a picnic shelter
Watch the clouds move,
Watch the leaves tremble at each other under continuous droplets
The rain surges, pulsing
Heavy fall- light - heavy - light
And spots of sunlight sing vibrant green into the canvas of grey
Two sleek black crows
Iridescently patrol the parking lot
Wetness is a state of being
Wetness is the base line for wild creatures
We fear the rain for we have tamed ourselves
Imprisoned in the illusion that we can or even should keep ourselves dry

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

I had to get through to something before there could be any
Thing

There's outside and
            It'll go away today
I had to throw up my hands
Watch the diffusion of light
I had to dust the shelves
And I sneezed on the green paint
I know where dominance goes
Draining out the front door in chunky paste
I know the woes of individuality
Blunted on the kitchen counter
Smashed and cracked and left to dry in whitewashed open window
Waiting for you to admit you didn't have what it takes to make it
Or maybe it's even harder to admit that you do