I got a couple of things to say
That I feel would clear
All that fog that hangs
Inside my head
and makes it
so hard to
think.
But if I open my mouth
All the mist will
Come out
And I won't see
the truth.

NEW City,
Same YOU.

We are all connected,
But more mechanically than spiritually.
We are all friends on Facebook,
Yet - who are we, virtually?

We have shared pictures,
But do we share significance?
We have private chats,
And everything else;
But is that not malfeasance?
A malfeasance of all
That is sacred and real
About being really human.

We have parties and watering holes,
A grand, good old time.
But do we see ourselves?
In truth we should also be peering inward,
Unless we are ready
To look at it one day
And see empty corridors.

Why do we crave so many things
though they leave us unsatisfied
and send us out again for ephemeral
seconds of vanishing gratification?

Is it an absence of essential qualities
that makes us feel unfinished?
Do we indeed believe that more is better,
restlessly chasing for the shiniest of all?

We seem to be obsessed with filling
all the empty spaces in our house of life
with things
barely a place left for ourselves
to comfortably lounge and contemplate
and
    maybe
find the missing elements
waiting
    to be found
    within
and not without

I closed my eyes,
lids down against the fire of the afternoon sun,
and through those new curtains I could no longer penetrate.
And so I turned inward instead
seeing the fire within my head,
the glowing embers radiating
out in a spinning, shifting, turning
series of wheels and tiles, burning
a deep glowing red,
then cycling through to hottest white
And the purple and blue
of deoxygenated blood
Returning to my lungs for another breath,
To gather the elements to delay my death
Working with my heart
To keep me vibrating
Every part in tune,
Each cell cradling me within
A billion tiny wombs comprising my skin, my flesh,
Incubating every spark of me that is
(my spirit).
That fire that burns within those spiralling rainbow hues,
that welcoming tapestry of space connecting me to you
and everything.
I saw this only when I closed my eyes
and let the sunlight filter through.

Smeared visualization distorted on my
perceptions of what I see beyond this
frame of sight, I am numb to the hearing
of what is vocalized beyond this mounting.

Palms etch silhouettes of my fears that became
indifferent to the haze that consumed what
once was luminous. Now jaded reflections
turn inwards and devour the glass now cracked.

Pristine architecture now squandered in reflective
doubts. Dilapidation of what held perceptions
of fleeting sights. Apprehension now seen in others
eyes, adorned beyond perceptions looking inwards