A concept, a word, poison injected
in worn-out veins, tired of fighting
seeking peace, with weapons on
remote lands disregarded, brainwashed

by spurious terrestrial powers to suggest
indeed there is a reason to continue
colouring flags in red, blood of men sent
at war to protect, rights and honour those

blatantly depriving others of theirs,
secretly eager to quench their greed,
piling up dollar bills closing deals,
giving out coffins, rejoicing for their deeds,

collectively unrecognising freedom is
only to be found in surrender,
to the Universe and its course, fine
tuning our existence to the harmony

of its sublime rhythm elegantly
orchestrated by natural laws, the only
truly ruling, thrusting liberty upon all,
yet too blind to drop the guns

and believe indeed there is much more
to us,
than poison.

Consciousness finally puts its foot
down dictating, termination of frivolous
stubborn passions, unilaterally composing
wistful notes of lust, curiosity and fantasy
in broadcasted virtual reality.

Sprang from the enigmatic encounter
of a stranger unknown, fascination swiftly
dressed in seemingly harmless obsession,
longing for ethereal inkless words
deprived of nobility, stripped of their paper

suit and orphaned by a faceless
author. No signature or stamp required,
as they evanescently disappear in the gluttony
web of a careless spider, feeding on them as if
they had no value, reminding me indeed

they have lost their worth, the day
they lost their colour. Consciousness
finally puts its foot down, dictating
termination of frivolous stubborn passions as I
trustingly waited for it to do so.

I want to love without need
If pain and fear bring me closer to God
Why can only comfort bring me close to you?
Was I born only to find my sinful nature?
I was not born into a religion
Only a culture
The barrier between myself and myself
I don’t know if I can be cleansed
The prism of my perception won’t let me go
Is there enough time now that I know?
I know I am real
I know because you remember how I hurt you
No matter how much time has passed
I know I am real
Because I can only think of unworthiness
Why would an illusion be so weak?
I wonder if love is only in nature
Not like a doe and a fawn
But in a cloud or a tree
There is so much power that I lack
What human could love like that
Without memory of mistake
Or of grievance
I don’t know that I can do that
I know I am real
I can only love what I need
I don’t want to be like that

Count my scars
One, two, three
Each represent my mistake
These scars represent me.

Count my tears
Four, five, six
Each show my flaming pain
And what I cannot fix.

Now look at my scars
The bright red flesh
Do you see survival, hatred?
I see nothing but regret.

I am as strong as I want to be, because right now I care more about leaning out and taking in as few calories as possible. Losing the pounds in order to gain 'em back, you know? There's very few questions that truly have a right or a wrong answer, and I believe that with 98% of me. Sometimes a right answer simply means it is socially acceptable and a wrong answer is the truth, so in that situation you'd want to throw away your moral compass, clench your jaw, and hope that the lies that come out just result in pearly, shiny teeth.

you take a sip of something and it tastes like, ummm.. bad. it tastes like deceit, but that isn't totally possible (OBVIOUSLY), so in a literal sense it just tastes like the Coca Cola syrup that didn't have any carbonated water mixed with it. It's sweet, flavorful, but kind of tastes like it could erode my car engine in a matter of seconds, you know?

I feel the sip deep inside of my body, I can feel it trailing down my esophagus (is that what it is?) or maybe just my throat, a tube to my stomach and then to parts of me I better just not try to name out of fear of sounding stupid. fear of sounding stupid drives the majority of things I do, but that's okay, because at least I don't sound stupid.

the sip gets caught in the pit of my gut and I start to feel uneasy. I probably should have looked at the bottle before sipping it, huh? I probably should have asked for a detailed list of ingredients like the responsible wanna-be-vegan I should be? I call myself a wannabe most things. its just the person I am.

I take a seat because I don't feel good. this is going to hurt, this is going to land me in the hospital probably and might take a whole while to get over. this is turning too literal and I'm trying to beat around the bush, so ill just tell you about the time I took a sip of a coke can and a bee was inside and it flew around in my mouth for a solid 5 seconds before I managed to open, spit, and scream. that could be poetic if you really hunt, like I waited 5 whole seconds to get the monstrous bee out of my ******* mouth, I just sat with a confused look on my face for 5 whole seconds!!! thats a whole giant metaphor! I still swallowed the Coca Cola and it tastes like ***.

IMAGINE THAT people- poison only takes like poison once you've swallowed it.

Within the dark capsule of closed eyes,
the soul seeps its way through,
and one becomes two.

A twisting, intangible face within organic casing,
detached and pulled from physical being,
falling upwards against streams of

watery blue and mossy green,
losing fingers and feet along the way,
failing to grasp at the invisible silvery cord
attached to its belly.

Plunging face first into a pool of cool gray,
Sound dulled by the wet hum of nothingness
flowing through starfilled ears.

Utterly embraced,
Transparent, transcended and weightless.
Floating calm amongst the outer waters of consciousness.
And for a moment, finding itself
free.

I’m watching the trees dance under
paling sky’s thick cerulean shadow,
wondering if they’re like me.

                 Wondering if the bioelectrical fibers
                 twisting through the trunk of my neck
                 are like the gusts of wind braiding their branches.

                             Wondering if it keeps them awake,
                             or if it lulls them into enduring slumber.


I’m losing hours behind my circuitous strides through
conscious coma,
pondering those incessant curiosities of
permanent sleep
that so often plague the restless furrows of my stormy mind.


She’s looking at me like
I’m broken again, following me
out the door and impulsively pining
for a fix she couldn’t understand.
For sanguine is the nature of this
four-legged creature so stubborn
and at my heels. Striving to help
as she so often does.

But I’m not broken. No.
I’m comfortably subdued by the soothing
song of sinuous water cascading through
calloused toes, and the weight of
the stained notebook resting on my lap,
whose pages cradle the words of
psychological shadow flowing through my
murky
     streams
              of
                 consciousness.

These are the words that release me.
That so seamlessly pair
the id with the ego and put me to
sleep atop dew-lit grass.
The words that purge me of insanity, and pave my path
to self-discovery.

She knows this too,
Her primordial mind somehow
knows it and yes,
Yes it fixes me.

My soul it yearns
for expansion inside its essence
LOVE
Breath balances with light

Consciousness is activated
by morning sun.
by sparkling stars,
By aligning with higher self.
I’ve arrived in a place
between earth surface
and galactic highways.
I’ve landed to live in the heart.
in and between the breath.
I’ve arrived at my home
away from home


StarBG © 2017