i'll raise an electric fence around
the gods up there
in mountains and ivory towers
and they'll all wear shock collars
too

i'll spread peanut butter on bread
and send it to them through
the mail

i'll write them letters from the
lower world saying that 'time
really isn't a bother anymore
because apples rot in home
baked pies down here'

i'll reach through my own
tainted build up of corrosive
discharge and pull a petal
from the flower of life
to eat in front of
them with a coffee toothed smile

i'll throw weeds over
palisades into
groomed gardens

i'll **** on the flaming sword
spinning like i do
outside
heavenly gates

i'll put AA batteries on
my ******* and force
feed the north star
until it bursts

i'll stain the glass in windows
extolling failures and shining
blunders under vaulted
ceilings

i'll be nothing less than
the imperfect son of
an imperfect man and
an imperfect
woman--

human
all too human
after all

why is it that these
emotions
give no warning;
feeling of nothingness
and
meaningless
envelop my every
cell

what does anything
matter
nothing means nothing
my breath has no
weight

Noisy
  Mind Looping
Looking for its way out
As it feeds on a drama
This is not even mine.

Deep breath.
  A pause.
Some clarity.
  The mind fights.
I'm still here.
In my point of presence.
  Come home.
         We are here now.

It will wash away.
  The waves cleanse
As they reverse away from the coast
the undercurrent pulls
  back
into me.

I AM beholden to no one.
  I AM unto my own.
  I AM here for me.
  As the separation fades.
  I can see.

I wonder if this is what it feels like
If my heart is supposed to feel like hot ash,
blowing,
blowing in the wind and landing in my hair?
If my words are meant to be like alphabet soup,
spinning,
equating to be nothing?
Am I meant to feel like an empty shell,
swimming,
sinking to the bottom?

I stand here spinning
on my thoughts spinning.
The washer's spinning,
the fan spinning,
wind spinning,
Water drains out spinning,
into the earth seeping,
in the soil, hydrating;
as the planets spinning,
on their axes spinning,
for it is their eternal spinning.

With too much time on my hands
I think of you
It’s funny how these cycles
Keep on spinning
Cobwebs in my mind
Still catching lies

And love feels a world away
Behind glass
It’s easy to feel trapped
The line between observer
And observed
No longer exists