Never did I intend
To depend
So heavily on this pen
And the hand it was able to lend
But if I didn't spend
The time I did attend
Like if I only spent the weekend
Workin' on me,
I wouldn't have been able to defend my heart
Or fend off the dark
Because I wouldn't have been able to comprehend
The in-between
Of the beginning and the end

©2024

Finite compassion
Finite love
Finite reason
Finite recognition from above

Finite beauty
Finite realism
Finite money
Finite working system

Finite education
Finite brain cells
Finite investigation
Into the finite comprehension skills

Finite common sense
Finite self preservation
Finite self defence
Finite coherent mission

Finite greatness
Finite days to live
Finite forgiveness
Finite directive

Finite relevance
Finite cooperation
Finite presence
Finite revelation

Finite patriotism
Finite rules
Finite fixing 'em
Finite scruples

Finite healing elixirs
Finite work on problems
Finite cure backers
Finite beneficial algorithms

Finite action
Finite lessons learned
Finite reaction
Finite your turn

Finite grandeur
Finite effective comedy
Finite healing laughter
The same can not be said about tragedy

Finite answers found
Finite coping skills
Finite middle ground
Finite deserved kills

It's obvious I could go on and on
But I just dawned on me that I've always had
Finite fuucks to give

©2024

Here I stand, in one hand I've more knowledge than ever
A better comprehension in the other
But no third hand, arm, and shoulder
All needed if you hope to discover and then be a supporter
Of that impossibly elusive answer
Now fewer than ever and always less than the day before
Watching compassion wash away with the tears from the eyes of a lover
As I try in desperation to prove a mear possibly, maybe we're better together
Before the search begins and what's wanted is what's found in another
And I'm left to wonder the vastness of forever without my chosen partner
Alone, not wanting to, once again, risk going public with my server
That fear leads me here, to a future where I put all hope in never
And yes, you don't have to tell me, I'm well aware...
...I know that makes this a hopeless endeavor

©2024

It's true, I usually don't know what to do
What if I'm not around long enough to follow through?
Never know if my way or the highway is the right way
What did that sign say?
Will it be possible to recognize this impending last day
Even if just a day before it's referred to as "Ah shiit, is that today?"
This is foul,
Where do I go and what do I do now?
And just because I know what to do doesn't mean I'll comprehend the how
Who in their right mind could stand here and say they could handle the architecture and atmosphere of so many types of conflicting fear?
Who's the stranger with the black soul looking back at me in the mirror?
I wish it was clearer
But there's never a gene around ever
Take note that not every question has a viable answer
While some answers only raise more questions after filtering through questionable ******* banter
That's why there's a little manic in the laughter
And a wave of panic soon after

©2024

The risk of takin' time to begin mendin' a broken and frozen heart is it could stop its natural rhythmic beatin' at any given moment, without adequate warnin'
Matter of fact it's bound to happen like global warmin', that's the only endin' found followin' right on the heels of drownin'
Any other prediction goin' 'round is only white noise background sound of them denyin' and rewritin' facts, specializin' in turnin' backs and bold face lyin'
I constantly find myself suffocatin' in my own skin like it's a plastic bag grippin' my face, compression at the neck, not lettin' air in
Debatin' whether or not to go all in and fight this overpowered and undefeated depression with persistence and medication, maybe some meditation and self reflection
Or should I just go ahead and give in again, puttin' in little to no effort to change the end into somethin' worth strivin' for, will there even be someone there lookin' forward to me arrivin'?
This is not pretend or manipulation, basically I'm forfeitin' due to exhaustion and frustration, handin' over the rains, just givin' my inner demon the win
I'm sick and tired of bein' tired and sick, gettin' beaten, pickin' myself up just to start takin' the walk of shame back to some new beginnin'
Plus, spoiler alert, I already know the final boss battle in this surreal engine is just gonna be against myself, once again
Same as its always been, it's not about to start changin' now, no amount of trainin' or preparation' will stop this from happenin'
Like the programer guy and I are playing a side game of chicken, he's got nothin' to lose, I've already lost everythin' holdin' out for a win that's never comin', never a celebration
I'll die if I don't keep moving 'cause I can see the next hardship comin', it's ******' gainin' on me quickly and I don't have a remedy or solution so, tail between legs, I start runnin'
I'm noticin' the **** selection, nothing good comes from either decision especially if you're plannin' on bringin' logic in as part of the equation, it should help but it's only a complication
And I'm forced to pick a direction without knowin' the destination or what I'll be facin' or what's waitin' for me at the finish lines location
Even without an imagination as dark as mine you can see its a risky expidition with low to no expectation of finishin'
Hope diminishin' past salvation, straight to damnation and a bitter end
Death awaits every person ever born, he's never missed one and I won't be the exception, it's the when I'm questionin', on my knees prayin', shiftin' seamlessly into beggin'
In one hand I could win the battle that's ragin' in between my ears, lord knows I'm tired of listenin'
On the other hand I lose the war, therefore there's no reason for even tryin', no goin' back to the beginnin', no rewindin'
I'm left nursin' a wound that's turned into an infection and its quickly spreadin', entertainin' the thought of idle hand amputation
Don't need to be an open heart surgeon, it's already been broken twice and put on ice, I'll just rip it out then hold it up for all to see before it completely stops pulsatin'
The fixation has never been on fixin' anythin' but rather dodgin' any situation that'll get me lookin' within
Possibly havin' to acknowledge I might not be worth savin', is that me speakin' or my shoulder devil at it again'?
It's gettin' harder and harder to tell the difference, both soundin' the same, the blurred line causes confusin'
I know the notion of what I'm sayin' isn't easy to comprehend much less believe in
And that's the reason why I've bottled every emotion and set them floatin' out in the vast ocean
To keep me from bein' a burden to anyone but one person, you're lookin' at him and I lie and say it's workin'
I don't know what I was thinkin' not takin' this more serious from the beginnin'
It's been ruinin' my life's mission, runnin' up a tab of bad karma that I'm gonna wind up payin'
Stoppin' all forward motion by keepin' me frightened to the point I've given up on fightin'
The results are in and it's unsettlin', I now only seem to be nothin' but a punchin' bag for Satan and his legion
I'm startin' to come undone at the seams and it seems like no one's carin' but I don't know what else I was expectin'
I could've predicted that with precision like I have the ability to be time travelin'
Knowin' for certain what the future is bringin' but I'm just goin' off of every previous lesson that left a lastin' impression
But still not seein' the big picture, fussin' over the small **** like somethin' on the roof of my mouth I can't stop tonguin'
Wastin' precious time that I could've been usin' to at least soften the blow I know is creepin' up, comin' 'round the bend with the collection plate to put my fate in
But again, I can't stop the regression long enough to gain traction, a continuation of my downward trend, market value crashin', free fallin' with no parachute or safety net to protect my noggin
I don't give myself permission to feel anythin' other than self derogation
Sleep deprivation has my dreams fadin', countin' one sheep, two sheep, ****, the rest have gone missin'
I'm left pickin' myself up and dustin' myself off, brushin' my own well bein' to the side, out of sight, out of mind, keep it hidden
All lefts, no right to weigh in even though it's my life my thoughts are playin' with, throwin' caution to the wind
And now that I'm broken beyond repair I get tossed into the compost bin lettin' somethin' else grow from me decomposin'
A form of reincarnation at worst, at best, a place to finally get some much needed rest in'
I'm no longer invested in livin', hell, I'll even sign my own death certificate, give me a pen

©2022

Trade winds blow backwards
My mind reels
Insight in insight

Thirdhand apocrypha
Melting all the time
Icebergs within icebergs

I still have to and follow the inquiry
to learn to belove
at paid attention
every face
shaping
I encounter.
Because there is no fleeing
from any of them
when I look in the mirror
well
(and in dark glazed)

What wonder with
Poetry in Prose,
and
Prose in Poetry,
those two together
made at
once,

what Art is that
whilst those
trespass borders
of what’s cognitive and not,
my true form of wording
and existing
being
as that!

That is a feat,
mingle those two together,
make one fluent into train of events
by the other
and the other make
the former
an extravagance
that should reign
on us!
The most forming way
of expression verbally
and not!

And what experience would that be
if we took under account again
the spaces
and
the “Enter” key
between verses
in a classic poem structure,
to think how that changes
everything and what
respect it demands
in each line
differently!