embrace your mind
- only if it's kind
embrace your body
- but don't forget to be healthy
both are not you, only vessels
used for the service of others
who are none other than you
and you yourself divine
for the one is many
and many is one
- - -
so don't forget
to be yourself
only if yourself is right.

is still here
long after it disappeared.
it has revealed itself to be
something both long gone
and not of this world-
extraterrestrial
mystical
and divine
- - -
the harder i try
to grasp its name
the faster i run
out of time

the seasons used to turn in quick succession
constantly captivating attention
each had a name and place to be
each had a friend and something to see.

the season here slowly meanders
between peaks and shoulders
and shoulders and peaks
which is which? it's hard to speak.

climb up the ladder
to the summit of privilege
there's no freedom found here
except at the ledge

reach out your hand
for someone to grab it
lift them up to stand
beside you, they're sunlit.

trying to listen
to you when you say
dream a little dream
to have reason to pray

i do have a dream
but quickly it turns nightmare
coming apart at the seams
when i ask to you stay
- - -
i find this nightmare
gets in the way
when i dream a little dream
just as you say

heavy sighs return once more
darkness prevails at day
still clandestine it must stay
for if i faced an inquisition
i'd be revealed a jester-
the sighs mechanical
& the darkness ephemeral.

what ever may be,
the sighs, however soft
& the darkness, however long
are rooted so deeply
fear and anger alone
keeping me alive & feeling.

roams through waters
calm and stormy
its gears always churning
flashing the latest technique
devised by architects yearning
to be remembered as unique.

in simple praise
they call out to their creation
as it endlessly surveys:
Go! Bring Forth your Namesake!
but the name is long forgotten
and its fruits' just the same.
- - -
how can the warship be called Peace
when to stay alive, war is what it seeks

i found a little mosquito
upon my palm
and in complacence
it found refuge
suckling on my skin
getting blood-filled drink
within my view

i let it stay
much to my dismay but-
there's nowhere i've got to be
and at least here
i'm of some use
as i stare at him
getting his fill

i now was afraid
the longer it stayed
of the plagues that it carries
or even just the bite
& itch that follows

i then began to wonder
as time dauntingly drudged
what if he was killed
as a sanguine vessel-
will it then splatter
on the murderer's palm
that suddenly becomes
painted by mine
or
is he just a little mosquito
getting his fill
?

what matter is it
the color of mine eyes
who open the world
with the aperture of light
and illumine all in sight

what matter is it
the size of my brain
who opens the world
with the transference of light
and the shadow of perception

what matter is it
the depth of my intellect
who opens the world
with the gravity of light
and the ability of thought

what matter are they all
who open the world
when they neglect the light
shining within my soul

perfect little prose
shaped like a window
into our wandering soles
shaped by the steady soul
& muddied by the turning road

Showered with accolades-
none rightfully assigned to name.

Why cant they see me cowering
at the hand of every whim &
whimpering while unyielding
to the slightest of sense of sanity?

Maybe that then becomes
the source of their unequivocal
sound of reason
used to placate & personify
the sharp gazes of scrutiny
aimed directly at me.

somewhere
in a building set ablaze
stand steadfast
then the silent breath obeys.
in goes smoke
out comes divine praise-
trusting & trying,
to see through the haze.

walls around crumble
the scaffolding too
yet still i remain
to see the worthy view

counting on blessings-
one and many names
wanting so badly
to understand your claims.

all around this crimson fire
i deeply wish to have no desire
both in this building and on a pyre
yet in the end i find myself
nothing but insane & a liar.
.
.
.

i'm always right on time
going to the wrong places

stuck stagnant in the line
searching for friendly faces

they pluck fruits off devine
source of bitterness tasted

the closest exit door
my grip fixed on the handle
reading every specification
and every user's manual
to give me the answers
so i can learn how to know
when to open
the closest exit door

guidance, guidance,
all i need is guidance.
tell me how to be-
to free me from this
free fall.

falling, falling,
i'm trying to stop falling.
how do i grasp
at any railing
when it always turn
away from my calling?
every banister along the way
rejects my plead & pray.

praying, praying
still i stay praying
hail mary's & tat vam asi's
which i think
i'm trying to see?
& to resist the
warm embrace
calling me home
back into deceit & desire.

deception, deception
everywhere is deception.
i'm still trying to discern
without becoming burned
wishing i had guidance
to lead me with
what they've learned.

i live & relive
what i should've said instead.
all in the hope
of showing you
what's going on in my head.

perhaps then you'll see
me for who i think myself to be.
instead i must learn
to trust you
with your perception
of me,
my imperfect prose,
& maybe my deception.
- - -
i pray someday to find
that for which I yearn.

are we all
hooded
modern day mystics &
present day bards
in an echo chamber
repeating the call
?

morning strolls
along dew-kissed roads
to greet the rising sun.

slowly sipping hot coffee
meeting the misty dawn
& scattering seeds
for the song birds
to continue their melodies.

french blue, shear drapes
forest green dotted with colors
of the flowers.

napping in and under treeshade
where we too enjoy
fresh baked bread
& herby jam.
- - -
no beginnings
& no endings
just relentlessly
unpretending

light of my life
and song of my soul
you're never too far-
at least that's
what i'm told.

games of telephone
made to selectively hear
those who call
but the message is distorted,
incomplete at best.
maybe it would be better
to put the voicemails to rest
someday soon,  
we can all read the texts.

as someone who remembers
being a kid so vividly,
all i can say to parents
so they will see:

that to be young
is scary
and your only job
is to carry
their pains
& their paints
as they navigate
this mundane maze.
- - -
your time & affection
no apps nor toys
can rush.

in time
your pain & affliction
they will touch.

as the river rushes to the sure sea
meeting up at tributaries
&
as the earth travels through breeze
circling round leaves of strawberry
&
as the birds lay
on a warm summer day
so merry
&
as lambs graze
leaves of grass
singing tunes
of this too shall pass
- - -
truth & perfection
can be surely known
when you find yourself
at the intersection

the billowing breath stays true
in calm seas and fire breeze
all the same.
it stays through
mountains and valleys
heartbreaks and foothills
waterfalls to canyons
calling out your name

deep in the abyss
of the tether
lives a little girl
beautiful as ever
her eyes affixed
on each passing gaze
as she wonders
what a heavenly play

a calf safely caged
under his mother
as they share
the company of
one another.
supple and grazed.

the curtain draws
and the roles are called
now she’s awakened
to all the horrors

calf’s branded veal
and his mother dairy
it’s suddenly turned
truth so scary.

paralyzed,
escaping,
running through pixels
& always chasing

all while still climbing the ladder
not the one you think
i'm just looking for what I need
which i know is nothing at all

constantly clawing my way
up to a new hole
never quite feeling
completely whole

saddened. it's maddening
why?
still don't know
it can't be the sad songs
that stay beautiful
is it an excuse?
or is it karmic debt?

i wave my flag
colored white & red
wanting it to be
pure, righteous, holy.

yet instead of white
it burns bright red
feigning fealty
before it scatters in the wind
slate blue.

a little grey,
a little blue
until i'm left
not knowing
what's true.

burn bright, burn fast
all we have,
never lasts.

so i live in fear
that in and of itself
paints a picture
of the folly that is
the human condition

you're always dispensable
and so are they.
at the very least,
time's incomprehensible
for everyone the same

i feel it evades me.
can't recall
yesteryears falls
unless i try
to climb to the valley.

his hands lift me up
& remind me  the finale
but tell me to back down
looking around gladly.

false gods and earthly idols  
work til their very last breath.  
in the name of ideals  
until the hour of their death.  
  
beyond their own  
selves and kin.
alike, alone
they seek to win.  
  
imitations and embodiments  
in every walking word.  
maintaining  sacred covenant  
eyes open or closed.  
  
not seeking nor taking  
gaze affixed and contemplating  
the fruits in this game  
they're divinely playing.  
  
the real beholders  
granting sparkles of light.
young or older  
they never lose sight.  
  
from the garden of eve  
to the empire of machines  
steadfast and heavenly  
even in these tragic schemes  
  
where most are bewildered  
and fascinated by successors  
they watch as it unfolds  
increasingly unfiltered.  
  
power becomes play  
as we appoint ourselves  
with all of earth  
free for perch on shelves.  
- - -  
through it all they stay unshaken  
while collectively we traverse  
resolute, not forsaken  
across this mundane universe.

sinners and saints
in the world we paint
behind our own biases
rationalizing all we see

an eye for an eye
while we choose to stay blind
never asking why
we **** everyone we find

what should be quiet contemplations
in search of the being
become arms and ammunition
circulating the venom you're hearing.

when do we recognize
the cosmic sin
instead of justifying
using human spin?

one life over
another you say
really makes you wonder
the comic reality at play

midsummer night
a dream turned awaken
still fast asleep
to what we've partaken

with bodies not yet buried
the sword stays within
death soon ends dying
but truth always wins.

arrows of allegations.
bullets of accusations.
human shields are we all,
in front of logic
and reason.

an eye for an eye
while we choose to stay blind
never asking why
we **** everyone we find

really so easy
to paint each other black and white
while staying sequestered
in Black Friday's & White Christmases
knowing only our own
truths & unfulfilled wishes.

bridge between lands  
though ages it stands  
conquered and divided  
whenever will this strife end?  
  
mount the Sinai just to see  
port ships charting their courses
for snakes to feed
on its rich resources.  
  
it is but a peninsula  
to be used as a bridge  
while watching the cinema  
with equal leverage  
  
the light and the glory  
our hearts must fill  
not stuck in our heads  
fighting over God's will  
  
who divinely bestowed  
for kin and for foe  
instead it's become  
a playground of 
perennial sorrow

staples of celebration
yet worlds apart
in matters of liberation

was there long before i was born
to parents who never wanted me-
let alone each other.

my sadness is the blue yarn
woven through the grey tapestry-
snaking its way in and out but
always there through it all.

my sadness is known by many names
and has been my only friend-
my only constance.

it dances with the others
that live in my head
to ease the burden
of its sister-
loneliness.
- - -
when I don't hear from them,
all I see in their place is
emptiness.

We are plagued and poisoned
by the big G & C- Government run by Capitalism.

In a world where we fight the images of ourselves and each other to attain CEO-status and Land Rovers,
-to make something of ourselves worth being.
The closest we get? Becoming the land rovers yet stuck inside with the comforts of our baubles.

How can we fight to become when we don't know who to fight? What is it we must become?

A new ad sells a new vision of freedom and authenticity.
And we give them our money in exchange for
healing,
feeling,
and maybe eventually
being.

Just like the fad they create
We are left desperate
To find the answers
to questions they distract us from.
- - -
We mean well but
it doesn't resonate.

the nameless faces
and shapeless places
they remain
forgotten times of past and present.

days grow, and i've come to resent
all that's around me
and all that i surround.

akin to reading a book with no ending
or a movie with no beginning
- - -
i'm lost
and i've lost
sense of meaning
which i never had
to begin with.