I am still a ***** bedwetter
when the urge is overwhelming.

Locked. Dominated.

Tear-stained pillows.

I found a strand of hair in the bed.

Deep down in my truest self, I am no different from a bug.
Because messy emotional crumbs swept under a rug:
act tough like a ****.
But from that prior deep place, I know we each need a big hug.

Human outlook gets caught in a loop.

When I bite into fruit
supple surrender
reminds of  mortality.
Juice runs but I catch.
Happiness bursts with no lock to latch.
I lost my head.
If found, please reattach.
For now, I can stick to chilling all blind-like.
In the dark I still have my heart.
I will not let regret get the limelight.
In the past I had too much focus on hindsight.
Jellyfish do not even have eyes
yet not one is paralyzed with existential dread.
They float in the moment. A place where demise has fled.
Between all forms of experience.

In lieu of being fake, I don a glass mask.
Observed, I am seen as a brittle basket case full of sass
blinded by the rays in which we bask.
A riddle whose answer you need not ask
because I am already clasped behind your back.
That itching thought
of which is oft ignored; through a mind it may bore and crack.
If judged so, daft recognizes daft,
realizes life lays down sordid tracks.
When elegance is noticed be appreciative of the act.

Wings spread; flappable;
something else now, as a matter of fact.

Tufts of grass where the mower blades can't reach.
Tracts of earth where the preachers don't preach.
Hidden worlds, a deeper connection to spirituality.

Earthbound nature is duality.
Approaching god
but prevented by our own humble hubris
Capable cowardice creates this bottomless pit.
We’re constantly trying to climb out of it.
Madness, on my own hands I spit.
Towards the dark lands I travel, away from where the bonfire’s lit.
I explore this black hole which I must embrace.
Exoneration of self seals enlightenment’s gate.
Wanting to be Buddha; experiencing fate.

Finding my own space which has naturally grown
I will crawl with the insects. This place I'll call home.
Trimming no life? I’ve never dared less.
A largesse I’m prepared for, but how should I dress?
Brother spider, sister ants, please bless me as I shed man’s pants.
Metamorphosis into an in-tune being.
Crafting few calluses with this form of gardening.

The devil I am already had a pitchfork
and eagerly took up the torch.
My black heart was pitch, too ready for a scorch.

My insidious nature should not be touched.

I groped through the dark for something
to clutch. I looked for kindness
and found too much.  
A bonfire for the ******.
A blaze to cause blindness.
No eyes of love could behold that funeral pyre
but with scarred fingers I felt the fire.

Surrounded by broken screams
I hear my mind’s seams rip
and all I’m left with is reams of blank pages.
In one hand, rolled tightly is a fresh white beacon.
I reach out to shake with my other as I put another lover
in this mechanism for my massacre of the ages.

Once more round the sun
and passed reality is become undone.
Reaching through an aura of melancholic euphoria,
a resolution: feelings no longer will I run from.

Sole stars shine together in a nightly swirl
sharing light with the collective whorl as each wink in turn.
I am only my mother's son in this moment.
As is everyone a bright point in the lineage of our family,
looking up at a familiar heavenly mirror.

Even the heavens fade.
Minds reflect on this godly tact.
Entropy is a fact that we fight
or are we acting?
Afraid to admit how warm the embrace of coldness?
Clinging silence saturates space between bodies,
between sparks of life.
Fretful existentialism balanced by... nothing.
Whole galaxies begin, then submit,
when only a simple hello reaches me passed the moonlight.

Countless hellos overwhelm.
Connecting with the universe through metaphor is beautiful
but after all, we are only human.
Messy in our emotion.
The restless observer should practice patience to find peace under heaven.
Stoic stars accept a proper pace of degrade.
Us people struggle
to fade with grace.