It's quite a feat, walking through the
Graveyard of the Gods.
Buddah takes his time playing majong
Against Thor, his hammer near but at odds,
While Yam keeps ear near conch
Lest the Phoenicians hear his song
And pray his way once more.
They fight over the attention they receive,
A whisper by the heralds
Behind closed doors.
A hint of what may have come before

I retreat into myself
Into the corridors of me
I lounge on the well worn flagstones
Gazing on the marble columns
Arranging tapestries and paintings in
A more perfect order
I stalk down old hallways and explore unnamed galleries with a
Single candle to push back the deep
Sometimes rooms are filled with old Furniture
Sometimes entirely empty
Once feeling brave I held onto
The threshold of such a room and
Stretching out I hold the candle aloft in the chasm. Nothingness, darkness complete the light puddles at my feet pitiful.
When I recall that yawning abyss the silence of
It persists.
In ballrooms I play Chopin's waltzs' for no one  in particular
Yet I take my bow and my place at the head of a table set for a score of kings
I lay on marble steps trying to guess the riddles that my echo whispers
I climb the  towers and the spires to dizzying heights and many weeks I was lost in the labyrinth of cellars of basements of tombs beneath
I have seen strange things lately: a chair upturned or
Bed unmade, quills still wet, and doors open and shut of their own volition in the inky black
I swear I have seen before
A tall figure in a hooded cloak dart
Into the shadows, and it did not seem
Altogether human

I read for years inside my library  
And have spoken at length to Shakespeare and Plato
I have seen Yggdrasil and the seven hells
And sped through time with
H.G Wells. Of death and moon, of birds and galaxies I am enamored.
Tea with Julius Ceaser, chess with Captain Hook.
Breakfast with The Buddah
Coffee with The Christ
Did you know that Captain Ahab takes His water with a squeeze of lime? No Ice. Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain know me by my first name, I have fenced with the Gods of Olympus and of Asgard and I remain undefeated. The divine crowd my hearth and many nights have been passed here in quiet conversation, with Confucius, with Archimedes, with Epictetus, Davinci, and the brothers Grimm
I have lived ten thousand lives and Will live another ten

-Without a single thought of you-

I wander
To my garden
Gently lit by paper lanterns
The path is smooth and heady
The amber blossoms
And weathered sculptures
Make my eyelids heavy
Monuments with fists clenched beat my
Ego ******
New flowers sprout from the ivy throat
Always things are grown but never overgrowing
I steal through the hedge maze that only I know
To the secret center where no plant grows
Pavilion and pond
Where no bird sings year long
In that quiet I endeavor
To look without fear
Into the pupil of forever

In my first life, I died
The year I turned 25,
And now that I’m in the hours before I ******* second,
I want to make it all the way to
28.27 years
cause when you divide that by 9,
You’re left with pi.

And because the universe isn’t just a
Straight line, you’ve got to use a formula to get around,
Get all up on that pi d because piety just
isn't logic enough for me, where  even the repentant
Are told they’re going to burn in purgatory, sweetheart, please.
Being alive and feeling was
sometimes hell enough for me.

In just a few hours before I’m sent through that
Tight tunnel,
I want to be judged by the god of
3.14159, the baker that made me
Mr. Blueberry Buddah
Master in the art of reincarnation.
I want to be birthed **** with just a dab of pure whipped
cream for a soul,
Drizzled sweet with the blood I never watched my
mother bleed for me
on the morning of my second birth.

But I gotta say, this bardo ****'s pretty odd,
Here the sky ranges in color gradients too specific like
“violent salmon” all the way to “lukewarm smoothie”
But once I get out, I know things will be strange,
owning a life that’s not quite mine to lose.
And even though I’ll have no answer to give, I desperately
Want someone to ask,

Stranger, tell me, how did it feel?

Theoretically, I’ll respond,
Well, I was kicked back into some ancestral dream
To meet everyone I will ever be, everyone
I have ever been and
Once I’ve met all of them,
Everyone I will never meet again.

And they'll ask,
Friend, is that why babies take so long to be born?

Yes, its because they’re shaking hands with the universe
On the way out of the womb.
At least, the one who will reach nirvana
After this life cycle circles through.

Lover, if I were to meet you again, will you remember?
Does your soul still have my story
Etched on it somewhere,
Or will you be washed clean of me,
The tabula rasa upon which Locke never wrote?

I won’t remember you, but
I have faith that you’ll find me,
Even lifetimes grow apart after too long.
It’s all about the company you keep because
They never stay.
And if that should happen, well,
We just met each other in an inconvenient life.

I dreamed I fought Buddah
Again. The fat ******* was a
Slippery one, but not as
Heavy as you'd think.

He laughed with every punch
I landed. So disarming, it
Bordered on cheating.
When he finally tapped out,

I lost. I crossed swords with
Christ some nights ago.
A testament to surrender.
Flat slaps against a thousand

Cheeks, I guess crosses and books
Of poetry -alike- are made from
Wood. I'm the son of a carpenter
Too, I yelled. But it was Mary who

Had a little lamb. I formed a spear
With my hand and drank the
Water it revealed; thirsty as sand.
Like fighting a holy ghost. Air.

I punched at unbreakable mirrors.
I gave up faiths I never had.
Then Odin came up from behind.
Took out my left eye and prepared

To render Blood Eagle, dagger in
Hand, coil of Man; as mortal as any.
We whispered in unison: Finally
A fight worth ending.

Nothing is
Holier
Than
Flesh.

Bleeding In my own wold
 I am serene
I am ******* buddah
An exemplary  exhibit of how
To be calm in a storm 
How to stand on my own in the waves
That crush my shoulders
That smash my chest 
That bring me to my knees
**** the rules
And I defy the gods of this world
I raise my voice
In a defiant hymn 
I rebel
I exist through my will
And I will not be brought low
I am flesh blood and bone
I am because I am
And my thoughts roam these 
Unsavory waters
I will fight these demons
I will become what I may
And relentless I will purge
My soul
I scream till my eyes bleed
And I know what it means
To eat the heart of my enemies

Temple
               gold
sky
       blue
Buddah
                dwells
inside

you.

__
Photo:
http://beautyineverything.com/5054754830