I am standing on the precipice. It is a cliff from where I can examine the scope of all things and ponder my worth. Am I good enough? That is the aching question that resonates within my bones. It is the enigma that makes my heart feel like the most congested intersection. I’ve been tinkering with the cogs in my head. Never certain, but still searching for what is broken and trying to fix it. But I can’t; I am no mechanic, so I look down and stare at the nothingness below me. I hear the void calling my name. In a desperate attempt to find self-definition, I jump. I jump from the cliff and allow the darkness to consume me.

For some arbitrary reason, I decide to look up. Awaiting my gaze is a breathtaking infinity I never imagined I’d see. A beautiful blanket of stars flows over me as I descend. I remember when I was a child, I always dreamed of venturing into outer space. So with my calloused hand, I stretch out and reach for those celestial ***** of fire hoping to fulfil the fantasy of my youth, but I only drift further and further away. I scream. I yell for the illuminated sky to take me. Worthless!

As I throw my irrational tantrum, I realize that I never really wanted to explore the heavens. What I wanted all along was to fill them. I longed for purpose. Now, with that in mind, I stretch my arms not to reach the stars anymore but to fill the massive vacuum — to become a giant, a limitless, boundless giant shining in an infinite container… in the darkness.

I reconsider my existence. Falling. I am a light falling into… no, filling the darkness. I am charged with exuberance. It’s as if a bolt of lightning struck my chest and is waltzing through my body at this very moment. I feel safe now, drifting away from the precipice and into the unknown. I am a light. I am a giant. Limitless. Boundless. Infinite.

I honestly enjoy my head space
Even though me and my demons come face to face
So often it has become mundane
I am rather fond of my brain
Though I know all I do is overthink
So often it puts me on the brink
I've come to appreciate the extremes
And for that matter my daydreams
I fall in and out of reality
Without the slightest feeling of abnormality
Yes I am indeed quite odd
I'm broken, I'm ****** up, I'm flawed
Every day is a discovery
No I'm no in need of recovery

Despair
rears it's ugly head
Beware
When eyes go read
Thoughts are flying
Through my mind
That answer
I still can't find
Bumbling and blundering
While blissfully blind
I'm hurt
I'm crying
I'm broken
Inside my hearts whithers
I have nothing more to say
Maybe a bullet
Will take it all away

The old photograph
bordered with dust
a long gone memory
A childhood of hooded dreams.
The fresh oak tree
now blasted and cleft.
The woods redeeming in ashes
The sky grey with mist
The high pants and sneakers
haven for centigrades,
a **** in boots
Max, the Cocker Spaniel
his strayed legacy on streets.

The mood silent
The wind mourning
of old times of photographs

1.
A wind shakes the tree,
Sudden death for all dry leaves.
sad, cold, earth awaits.
2.
A dry leaf drifts down-
In to an angry cyclone.
A life unforeseen.
3.
Churning storm's still eye.
The leaf quietly ponders,
Enlightenment strikes.

We are but dying lights,
In this reality of dark,
Our wicks, we all burn shorter.
As more lights fade from view,
Our gaze caresses darkness.
And what can one man do,
When all the lights die out.

.
Notes wash over
The no angled ear
Listener, journeyer
See trails leading
To a cloud of sun,
Break in the skies,
Soon to know again
What was creeping
In the eyes of restless
Thought, unrequited
Sense, the whirling
Ride in the globes
Of vertigo and touch.

Dismembered by mood,
The musician conjures
Lost jewels in thought,
Sparks to the mind,
Sorcery in the bland,
Wayout, man, you dig,
Tap the deep rythmns
Drowning under toes,
Shutters we have lined
Go ourselves together
In the blinds.  Turn on,

Off those penny eyes,
The horn careening
In its heights of low
Down blues and sheen,
Be bop and stirring
In a rush, unfinished
The player knows
Your got number,
Is offbeat, syncopated
With the pearly drums
Of the sheet, read heart.

Jazzman is charmer
To sleepy serpent
Kept, shot in only bars
That leech into night,
The looking glasses
Pouring over misery
Ride sweet nowhere
In the tempos of fix,
Youngling daddy-o,
Plenty is the brass horn
Of Jazz in the clears,
Cool fingers singing
What the mind hears.

Rusty voice on the Subway stairs
Disturbing morning contemplation:
“Do you believe in God!?” -
Forcing me to wear suite filter
On my imagination.
Don't stop right there -
I'm telling myself.
Don't stop.

“Do you trust God?” -
On the higher level of meditation
In my mind.
How brave and strong
You must be to
Totally accept?
To believe my Angel Protector
The shield is here...

I'm just a freshman
On my Way.
I'm just at the gate of
The Golden Seeds University.

Mysterious Unmanifested
Welcome by
The Morning sun rays
Warms me great.
New Hope in my heart
Again arising.

Maybe that's next step
In the classroom
The Great and Difficult
Art of Acceptance?

Just
Don't stop right there.
Please,
Don't stop...

* * *
Isaiah 55: 8-11
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
Neither are your ways my ways,
Declares the Lord.