Autopsy is the ancient Greek word for “I’ll see for myself.”



I remember our gentle yet shy love making
Seeing your sparkly eyes
Eye to eye
As we kissed and couple
In the moonlight
I can find the doom that was coming.

I remember the philosophical yet
Romantic discussions
We had
But the despair of death
Was well hidden behind your
Gentleness and intellect.
I did not know.  

Then you wanted to teach me
Martial arts even though
It’s was against your heart
I saw the sad yet stern look on your gently face
Your tears
As you tought me
I wanted to comfort you
Through coupling
And love.

Now that I see it for my self
That it wasn’t meant to last.
That I now see as I dissect our
Memories with a heavy heart.

Every time
I close my eyes
For the night
I only see your face
The gentle smile,
The playful sparkle
In your eyes
And your slim features
As we couple.  
How I love you.

People said
That I was your slave
But I wasn’t.
I was In
Love with you.


But we were lovers
In love with eachother
Won’t they understand.
That you are human too.  


The love we shared
Was rife wisdom
And creativity
And the creation of life
It was not just coupling.

These flashbacks
Of an old life
In a mountainous land
Where I was in love
Cause discomfort
How can I love anyone
Other then my parents.

These dreams
I have of the old times
With my monk lover
Freaks me out
Causing distress
How can I have a lover.

These tantric urges
I developed
Disturbed me
Because I
Thought
I wasn’t that kind of girl.

The prayer flags flutter
And sway in the wind
As I meditate
Though instead of seeing
The compassionate face
Of Buddha
I see the face of my lover
A Lama
Whom was from the distant past
A past life that I
Rather forget.

The bumper
pushed
right
back
like bangs,
into the skin, breaks in a creased forehead.
Linen from insides
turns into
a toy.
Plasticated hot wheels.
Activated air bags,
prank flour explosions from the ledge of a door,
door handle swings,
fidgets
funny how one day it looks like rain and the other
not just a gale,
a down pouring hurricane.
The end is here, baby
and
nothing left
of
our
...bombsite, breathes,
but flailing and pleading,
a hand.
Where's it's
limbs, breathes,
got to?
Bust its last change at high noon,
fingernails, shoes, chewed, dug into dusk.
Dust.
Politics' lips slapping, struggle shaping, stuttering
W-w-why, Ma?
your best friend who tells lies to keep live,
watching, waiting
assembling dark matter 'cause our lives matter
Like the old man
who fell asleep at the wheel.

I am a lost soul
A wayward ghost
Stalking the streets on Halloween
Looking for my lover
From a past life
Who promised we would be together
Again.
I do this every year.
But I am living a this earth bound
Curse in my head
I am beginning to forget
Your Buddha like face
So gently
So kind
So compassionate.
I am ******* up emotionally
The universe playing mind games
Every Halloween.
Our love was beautiful
Our love was my enlightenment
I have neither the present, past nor future
How can I cure
Myself of this emotional curse
Of this mental damnation.

Curiosity killed the cat,

But a cat has nine lives,
And I have none.

What can we lose but time?

I've already lost my mind

~Robert van Lingen

I am neither the past present nor future
I am a love lorn ghost
And
I am cursed to find true love
As I get reborn and reborn
Finding the lover
Who I lost centries ago
In a land of hills
In a land of mountains
In a land of deserts
An exotic place
Where the curse started
When he died.