~the heart of (the) matter~
~~~~~~

an essential phrase,
that concentrates the
instincts not to sway
away,
   be focused
on, by the always present
algorithm of the
essences

but my version preferred
is that
"the heart of matter"
with skill and effort,
one can learn, to shoot
arrows honed to be near
an-almost-bullseye every time

but to understand that
the heart
is matter,
the mother
of our body parts,
the little engine that could,
can and does,
and asks only
refresh it with
fresh blue blood,
every second
(not to much to ask for)

what are/is the sinews of the heart?

what are its secreted corpuscular (1)
composed of?

why words, you silly!
each beat, a letter,
      the heart doth register
its creativity incessant,
never ceasing to rest
for composition is its goal,
to sing to write, to weep
from pleasured thoughts
and deepest fright,
and you say you need inspiration?
then listen to your writing vibrations that from thy center
emanate, you who toil laboriously
when all that matters is the matter,
the wonderful matter of
who when where and why
that chatterbox in your body
never ever pauses


and that is why in the matter of god,
have no doubts
only a god could have conceived
of a world of billions of composers
where each one of us
matters**…







5:19am Wed Sep 10

O trothful comrade,
What soever shall I do?
Hadst thou not been thither,
Biding by the loo?

My quiet white knight,
A bold one, is he,
Swift to save my ****—
Quite literally.

Howbeit grim the duty,
He bringeth to pass,
Removes all the blemish,
No questions asked.

Thro’ the sea an’ the storm,
We rest hand in hand;
Anon, a vanquished battle—
In pride we stand.

O trothful comrade,
If but it were e’er true,
That people were toilet papers,
Just such as thou.

The Colors of Love
In a town where the rainbows take flight, With each heartbeat, we dance in the light. With love bold and free, From mountains to sea, We cherish our truth in the night. Our hearts sway as loops like a spin, In a world that once whispered of sin. With pride on display, We celebrate gay, Together we rise up and win! With partners and friends hand in hand, We won't let your conflict withstand. For love's here to stay, In each vibrant way, LGBTQ rights make us grand!

It is not really that simple.

All day you just call me mental.
I think I might just go grab a ******* pistol.

Cold steel barrels in my hand,
Hell, I can't even stand.
While I just pound this hard concrete and sand.

I am pacing these corridors in circles
it is making my **** head hurt,
**** spinning around me,
this torture is always making it worse.

Hey, don't look at me as if I am the problem,
these little ants on the ground,
I just want to stomp them.

Fueling my insecurities, drinking down the potion.
Do I just sit here or throw it into motion?
Heck, what is all of this commotion?

It is not really that simple.

Contemplating my disappearance,
I am no more looking into the distance.
Why are you still here?
It is not like I am missing.

Oh, wait, wait, calm down with all this internal chatter,
voices telling me that I don't even matter.
Rising and falling off of life's external ladder,
trying to look in the future,
hold on, it is making me a little madder!!!

I need to see this through
and just meditate.
Wait one minute, my pills over there on the counter,
should I just medicate?

Contemplate, hesitate, or it is too late?

It is not really that simple.

Kinda crazy how it sounds.
Back on the hard concrete and sand.
I see myself, right here.
Clearly as I stand,
breathing and seeing
my life's simple plan.