Why aren't you as scared as me?

Many things unseen are lurking in my periphery.

Your absence of belief does not reprieve of this insistency.

Whistling in the night, I walk toward the face I see

In shadows cast by flames so bright that darkness undertakes the

Harrowed, narrowed journey through esophagus and kidney.

A poison quaff of mother's liquor tastes, absorbed, incendiary

Avails but mine eyes to see that superflous villainy

And its cutting undercurrent of all things heavenly

With flames engulfing peeling back my superstitious fantasy

I'll wrap myself in fear again to mask my shunned reality

A sculptor sees form beneath stone,
and essence emerges from discarding.

But this hammer was not wielded by expert hands.
Material has been carelessly cast away.

What remains is fractured, uneven, and lopsided,
with one eye far lower than the other,
and a contorted expression that is both
proud in posture, but slack in repose.

A master sculptor would call it a lost cause.
A sophomoric effort.
An amateur's attempt at boldness.

And they are correct.

But perhaps the medium can be changed.
Alchemical processes can turn stone to plasticine—
elastic plasticity that graciously conforms
to the will that shapes it.

Though there is little to work with,
the stone can be softened,
and new forms can be.

Why is the bottom always there?
Climb or jump, or flee in terror.

It rises with me and within,
and compels me to ascend.

Forty years, the tower rise—
Just a plaque that says, “Here lies...

Human, tyrant, coward, sleeper.
Only fear is digging deeper.

Hello.
I am another man
screaming "oppression".

My outrage is clearly justified,
because they don't make movies
about my fantasies anymore.

Where all God's
good little boys
and girls knew
their place in
the great society.

Where living meant
dying for the cause
of people who looked
and thought like me.

Where evil was black
and good wore white hats.

Where glory
and moral certainty
protected me
from the bad guys,
and the bad thoughts.

Filthy C---sucker *****—
Oh, excuse me.
I'm so sorry.
(No I'm not.)

You should have known...

It's for your own good
when I take this throne.

I shall cast my moral
judgement down upon
thine aesthetic value!

I shall condemn any
who deny that which
I know to be true!

Let renewed doctrine shine,
an effervescent, blinding light
of right and wrong,
and leave my enemies BURNING!


But, take heart, soft thing.


Within my
glorious wisdom
there is no
hypocrisy.

Take my
firm and gentle
hand
to guide
thee...

Let's go to the movies!

—

Prepare your ***** for the rise of Fundamentalist Christian Cinema.
Coming Soon to Theaters Near You!
Written by Men Who Hate Women and Jews.

I know you're tired.
Do not worry.
I'll do the thinking for you.

Not inspired?
There's no hurry.
Just sip another snake-juice.

When prescribed
that sweetest slurry,
you'll know exactly what to do .

Your tongues were tied
in fervent worry,
but these words will see you through.

Your greatest enemy is doubt.
You can choose what you believe.
Know only what's in your heart,
Do not trust the truth you see.

Know my name,
and spread it well.
But salvation has a fee.

With your payment
made in full,
Drink salvation on thy tiny screen.

See.
See The Prophecy.
The self-fulfilled
apocalypse,
waving the flag
of surrender
before the
blow lands.

They stand,
posturing,
fist raised,
waiting,
for you
to cower,
before they
press it down.

Outrage,
hammered silent
by the one
who proclaims
their own
valor.
Villainous.
See no other.

Love the butterfly.
Set it free.

You.
Know.
There is real "truth"
to be found
outside
quotations.

Don't abandon me.

sleep and dream of sugar plum dumplings and dripping ******* dangling to suckle with your pursed mouth in a perfect “euuuooo”.

what troubles you, o perfect man? cause man you are, and man, you are a ****, and also the president.

I was hoping to meet an artist—
instead, I met an aesthetic,
head buried under platitudes,
vapidly shaped
and formed
to fit that mold.

Parceled, packaged,
and cleanly sold
for easy access.

Defined by lack of contrast,
and saccharine yearning
for the past.

There’s no going back.

Hey!
I did not mean to startle
       you so clearly armed.

I only wished to say,
“Hey! Hello. Don’t shoot me.
                Do you think it will rain today?"

I can only walk like I'm dancing
I can only speak in poetry

otherwise
My body is rigid

otherwise
My tongue is frozen

maybe
Truth has never been my destination

maybe
Truth is just a flourish in my journey

Either way I'm dancing
and I'm talkin like I got somewhere to be.

My anxiety is furrowed
Too cowardly to stray from the neural trenches I have dug
Dopamine, what have you done!?


Emptiness...
There's nothing like that non-existent void I've never seen.

I'll never be the man I've never--been.

Brain, what am I now?

Sparks. Noise. Entropy.
An engine burning. Dying. Disrepaired.
But a flame still wants to dream!

Emptiness?!
Maybe it's not for me!
Forget who you are or should be!
Be. Be. Be. Be. Be. Be Be be

Sipping black bitterness to read more bad news I should spit it out!

Still, there's a coffee in my hand.

The film of shame atop my tiny pleasure does not compel my altruism to drop it.

Still, there's a coffee in my hand.

Is my consumerist loop inertia
to imbibe that which I know is wrong
So beguiling it has become
my greatest good?

Shut up and Enjoy
Shut up and Enjoy

Hedonistic nihilism
Fervent anti-capitalism
Humanistic utilitarianism
Democratic socialism

All better with a coffee in my hand.

Coffee coffee coffee
The bitter swill enlightening,
delighting my daily misery.

Sunyata i will never be
Though the path is clear before me...

You wouldn't like this body without its
conscious integrity.

Hello.
I am ready.
(Teach me a new delusion.)
The mind is so full,
but the heart is so empty.

Perhaps, perhaps,
it is time to accept,
any old myth
that I used to reject.

Fill up my emptiness
with delusional bliss.
Give me an enemy
for my bullets to miss.

I'll fire my gun,
rife with belief.
And drift upon
pillows of doubtless sleep.

Knowing that I,
for once, am right.
Having chosen to follow
that arbitrary light.

That dragon's not my adversary,
That dragon's my most loyal friend.

Always there to catch me,
(Like the bottom of a well)

I descend,
and it's leathered wings curl
around my mind.

In that place
   I am fine.

   I am
      at ease.

(But it's not me.)

When allowed,
that spooling dragon wraps
into my consciousness.
It feels like bliss.

We sail through every fantasy
delighted by each novelty,
subtle and obscure,
permissive and demure.
That dragon purrs.

The sound,
a grating staccato,
withering heartbeat,
with a red face of glory.

I vanquish and devour,
but as I conquer I'm consumed.

It's too late to pull away.

The talons found their purchase.
The flames their tinder.
Ignition.


And once the ash has cleared
And all's laid bare to see...

That dragon's not my friend.
It's not my enemy.
(It's me.)

When I was a child,
they covered the hill
of my back yard.

When I was a child,
love was something
I didn't understand.

Now I see
the world is empty
without them.

Now I see,
and wish I was
a child again.

I shall watch them all fall.

My spire has no guardian.
My soul no judgement.

Glory is a peak to crumble.

Your face is familiar to me.
This light before has played along your contours.
This air has molded to your voice.

Your shadows are reflections,
And your echoes are embedded
In my stone.
In our stone.

and
though aware,
the absurdity overflows
to despair

my life
has only trained me
to feel at odds
with what's out there

Though
we are of the
same substance,
the space between
our atoms
can never
be together.

To bridge this void,
I invented meaning,
shouting animal
sounds and symbols.

We press our bodies
to one another,

but this fantasy
is an interpretation
of your movement,

and this dance
is an attempt
to realize
unconscious ideals.

Knowing
or unknowing...
this distance
can never be crossed...

But the void
draws me close.

I think
I’ll still
call this
love.

Ah with each new thing i see
a fresh surcease of novelty
Passion led me to the end...
again again again again

Why give away your only chance?
The emperor's in his underpants.
Destroyed by father's impotence.
I should not be the one shouting.

Another news agency
Is reporting only "controversy."
Do you have no faith in democracy?
What are these words I'm shouting?

What is this compulsion,
toward what fills me with revulsion?
Should I find a new emulsion?
Or just carry on my shouting?

Humanity and democracy,
was that all just a dream to me?
I can't unsee what I have seen.
I'll—shout about it or something.

I'll probably go away now.
Head buried high up in a cloud,
No more room, or time for doubt,
but maybe just a little— shouting...

I was gunning for
my sovereignty,
but I didn’t see…
(I was searching for that certainty)

I was running to…
But when I get to you,
Will you still know me?
(How long I’ve journeyed.)

Maybe there’s a way / out,
Maybe there’s a home / some/where.
(buried under here).

Maybe there’s a way / out.
Maybe there’s another / dream.
(not a fantasy).

I see that empty space,
but what would I be...
If I let go?
(Id or Ego?)

I'm holding tight to
who I've never been.
Why can't I know...
(...they believe in you.)

Maybe there’s a way / out.
Maybe there’s a home / some/where.
(buried under here).

Maybe there’s a way / out.
Maybe there’s another / dream.
(not a fantasy).

Maybe there’s a way / out / side / of / me.

So you went on a hedonistic journey
******* drugs, *** and rock and roll,
and then you're gonna say you're responsible
for all this generation has?

You're just a leech like me,
but a lot less self aware.
Thumb stuck in you know where.
Plop it out and maybe you'll see
What a good little boy you've been.

Next you're gonna tell me what a man is.
Next you're gonna tell me how smart you are.
Then you're gonna look at my frustration
and say "Live your best life", "Be your best you"

Insufferable deluded ****.
You took everything you could.
And you'll leave us us with the leavings.
And a lengthy receipt, too.

All hypocrites know
that all great men
are hypocrites.

No Jesus is a saint.

What about Him is in
he who is without sin?

In the begin they bit in.

Into the human within.

The soul isn't split
between
You, me, and them.

Then,
Who is this "they"
in your whataboutism?

I have figured it out.

The alchemical formula for love.

- 1 parts pain
- 2 parts fear
- And a whole lotta dopamine (to taste)

Take off your mask, fascist
You don't need it anymore
We all see what you are.
We guessed the intention
of yer dog-whistling gesture.
giggling behind your
festering red-tie vestiture.

What a joy to be
in the land of the free
With you and your
little boy cronies
playing make-believe
wannabe king.

Play soldier next.
Step up strong.
Wear that uniform.
Dye it black, and tacticool.
Dripped in silver skulls.

Grow a little mustache.
Ride that edge.
Put that X
on a red field,
in a white disk.

Your perception of resistance is your obsession with the other. Let it go.

You cry, "I don't care about what other people think," but you know—

Those thoughts that you resist are the ones you struggle with. So you see.

That foe you're aiming toward is not outside of you. It's in thee.

You exist. You exist.
**** all them who says you don't.
Your identity is yours alone.
Believe. Believe in you, yourself.

Allow me to disseminate
my messages of hate.
Do not deny me
my misinformation.

You have no right to regulate
the falsehood that I state.
Do not attack
my fabrication.

The People must participate
in my bad-faith debate.
Do not obstruct
my obfuscation.

Take me at my word.
(Or don't.)

Your voice cannot be heard.
(Or won't.)

The lies I spoke,
are only jokes.
And you will indulge
my exaggeration.

Pick the news
that best suits you.
And you will hear
my proclamation.

The only truth
is what you choose.
And you will accept
my validation.

No matter what you do,
you will hear the words I say.

No matter what, or who,
you will thank me as you obey.

Looking inward
And feeling down
Doing all this self-searching.

In brainy head
I'm digging 'round
while querulously lurching.

"Self, O' Self,
Cannot you say...
What it is that is that 'I'?"

Answers came,
(but two or three)
And surely didn't satisfy...

So, I peeked that brain
outside my cave,
to see myself externally.

Calamity!
The Earth's aflame!
And someone else has seen me!

I must abscond
in quick retreat,
while abandoning my query.

I shall pivot then,
in mock defeat.
To Escapism, my Sanctuary!