I lit a joint
at the edge of reason,
Socrates pulled up a stool,
Lucifer leaned on the sun.

"Truth burns,"
Socrates muttered,
exhaling philosophy like smoke,
"but lies rot slower."

Lucifer grinned,
flicked ash into the void.
“They call me fallen,” he said,
“but at least I jumped.”

We passed the joint
between silence and thunder,
while the stars held their breath
and time forgot its name.

"I asked too many questions,"
I said.
Socrates winked.
"Good. Keep asking."

"And I loved too loud,"
Lucifer added.
"Good," I said.
"Keep burning."

We laughed until reality cracked,
and God peeked through
like a landlord with no keys.

Then I walked home,
lungs full of fire,
head full of questions,
heart still undefeated.

Someday the glass will be half-empty
And you’d get happy about that,
Cause yesterday was not so grateful,
The future, well, has not yet passed.

To see a glass already is a victory  
When you were struggling to have a sip.
A wandering eye, obstructing vision lately,
Somehow is focused, fighting to see clear.  

There are no words that could describe it,
There is no person who could really tell.
The glass could be half full and empty,
At least it’s real to begin with for today.

Un trial
begun wise

as a man thinks
so is he

as a tree grows, just so.

Seek first the order,
center out, or edge in,
bottom up, top down

thinking, seeking lost
reason, lost balance on
pivot jewel catchments,

chthonic coordinated response,
time
light, and light alone, physical
touch
line upon line, patient, waiting

for the forgotten first word.