The urge came.
Desire filled my breast
and before I knew it
I was flung from one corner to the next,
a branch iced over and shivering
as the tempest of want threatened
to shear me from my past,
to break me.

The urge left me
yearning to be carried away
to a place far removed
from these safe harbors;
over lands where I knew no names
and had no kin,
To a place unfamiliar,
but where the breath of God filled the air
and made sweet the prospect of new beginnings.

I’ve got this wild hair,
and it’s a real humdinger.
goes everywhere with me,
whispering, shouting,
whatever the hell it wants:

“dance in the fire.”
“go talk to her.”
“drive straight into that lake.”
“what’ve you got to lose?”
“**** it.”
“jump.”

it’s gnarly, tangled,
never stays down,
a rebellious little ****.

some of my best mistakes
have come from it, too:

“one more,
come on.
what’s the worst that could happen?”

“**** the trail,
it’ll take too long.
just run down the side
of the mountain.”

“ok, sure—
let’s pack up
and move across the country again.”

everyone’s got one,
standing tall somewhere,
poking out like a flag
on a battlefield of sameness,
a single, defiant kite
riding the sky
above the canopy.

those wild ones,
they’re the beauties.
the rogue strands
growing their own way
when everything else
marches in a straight line.

I love those wild hairs.
the ones that scream
against the comb,
flip off the barber,
and refuse to lay flat.

the ones that urge us
deeper into the unknown,
to take chances—
to risk ourselves despite everything.

the funny thing is,
I think
God had one, too—

when He made us.

i hold a shaky palmful of death
noting that it is surprisingly light

i swallow reflexively
feeling shocks through my hand

i could just do it
i could just do it right now and it would all be over

why don't i do it

my body, fighting to survive
my brain, begging to die
and i am no man's land

Squirming body tied to my bright bed
And flipped with my ice cube cold fingertips,
Tracing your spine.
Bursts of your sweetened moans escaping

Your tightly closed lips.
With your legs spread you lay half alive,
With tingles of more life
I find myself again at lusts feet.

At lusts feet I have fallen again,
Your touch is so gentle,
Vibrations of your body are so tender,
Please just surrender.

Your moans weaken,
Through your rosebuds-like lips.
As you close your hazy brown eyes
And give in to the intoxication of my tongue.

I pulled you near and untangled your hair.
Breathless you lay in my arms,
With your face blood-like red.
You gazed at me with your soft starry eyes,

Looking nearly half alive.
Lust is so hungry with an urge so great,
I looked at you and I
I just whispered I love you to your flesh.

Never wanted to go beyond the reef
But some unknown force is dragging me across.
Want to stay behind
As I’ve been warned.
But that force
Oh it’s too strong
It keeps pulling me
Even though I oppose
Is this meant to be?
Or is this a curse
That I’ve put upon myself
I want answers
But they seem unclear
That force;
It's within me
It drags me beyond that reef
What once was my limit.
Now, I am beyond
Should I go back?
Or should I go ahead?
And find my future ahead
In the unknown?
My future,
Is dark?
Is it bright?
Oh, the uncertainty
Will this ever end?
Or, will the darkness, itself
Surround me
until the light fades?

Any one hidden once may
be shown. Whole/parts
Any one
Any thing e may signify. A dot, a jot, a little tic
to the smooth tight stretched string remnant

of a once noble and good idea, with all the best
sci-entious knowers of numerical ways and means
of propagating an aspect of realty

we need to know. we do, we must know, we feel it

courios. curio. imp-ul-pel, **** and blow, inexorable

pop the foolish thought. why, would I?
ah, gigo go go take out the trash

but it's real, it can't be
worthless. Being
real is the absolute most worth in any ever imagined.
Even hell.

Yeh.
Wanna go there?
Wanna ride?

Step inside my mind, the liars used then said,
we yoosta say,
read'em 'n'weep… sweep sweep

sweep m'chimbly fuerboy, while I sort through the ash,
pshawt sawt
into central London feels surreal every time things fall off from the everyday
in the vicinity
of Bow, Stratford and Mile End
Mateuš Conrad

From <https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4313339/comment/>

in a flash
s'jew see that, the light house danced, a little.

-- Evvy Pax, my grandson finale, thinks

Pokémon! Those are everywhere, sending messages,
with seeming uncertain sounds,
something like

help, we've fallen, and we can't get up.

Call to Emergency Locators: SHOW THE WORLD
PEACE OF MIND, WHENEVER YOU ARE AWAY,

let emergency locaters know and we notify you,
after we call the authorized property protectors.

------ that was 1991, on Texas Street
------ four years prior to the Fred Pryor Internet in a Day
the resumé of a myth,
cliché  resumes… this is that mythic stage, plain, flatout

one being
a while
alone
time……
Only
Bums and truly rich beings who live to tend fires in minds
enduring auto-de-fe
resting from tirades tuned to deaf ears determined
to serve com-plete, full to

the limit of the fire's reign, gno se? Fuerverge,

the character first to reveal the valour in the name

Keeper of the sharpest stick,
the stick that did not burn, but stirred morning fires.

Arize, cousins, sing in the son with the birds and lizards.

Hoo Hoo who RAH YA 'LL AI AI AI served you, see
De - as in
complete (adj.)
late 14c., "having no deficiency, wanting no part or element; perfect in kind or quality; finished, ended, concluded," from Old French complet "full," or directly from Latin completus, past participle of complere "to fill up, complete the number of (a legion, etc.)," transferred to "fulfill, finish (a task)," from com-, here probably as an intensive prefix (see com-), + plere "to fill" (from PIE root *pele- (1) "to fill").

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=complete>

In this end, we get what we made life worth getting.

Sound crazy. All way at once. Con vergence sense.

You are like the star in the sky.
Far away and tough to climb.
Urge to touch you still alive.
Nor you can neither I,
This distance can never minify.