Your love pattered,
On the earthen roofs
Of my heart, awakening
Everything within.

-Sayali Parkar

A presence
presenting
a continuous torment
torturing
incessantly
until, even with cessation
only a tenuous self
is present
leaving only the resin

The maniacal
manifestation
is an infestation
festering around in my head
Its existence,
a creation
created at inception,
hacking my brain
Forever a trap
creating a
maniac

Acrimonious
to all mankind
Not acting
like a man
Not one word
that's kind
Committing crimes
and getting oneself
committed
A deviation
creating a deviant
Shifted values
due to a devalued
self

An esoteric
essence
seemingly sentenced
on this journey
by judge and jury,
not by one's peers
because the many
not able
to peer
into this individuality
The duplicity
of duality
that is my reality

Challenging myself
to a dual
One in which
I both
win and lose
But in the end
not breaking even
or coming out ahead
Always ending
further back
instead

Its back breaking
and always aching
Pain from which
not capable of
faking
Effort I’m taking
Of myself making
Time for a new king
For kinsmanship
is aloof
And this man’s ship
has sailed away
Sipping a port
at a shipping port
And yet
slipping away

Deeper still
In the depth
of still water
Sinking
into the abyss
Lost and gone
But not missed
Is this the end
of our fable?
Or will our “hero”
enable himself
and in the end
be able
Deciding who to be?
Cain or Abel?
For the hurricane
is hurrying along
Its aim always the same
Constant pain
A payment he feels
for the displaced
placement
which just in case
is placed
same place
he went

Ink in the face
A disgrace
When suddenly
encased in his brain
are racing thoughts
of a plan
he’s ace’n

A label of insanity
given by those
who claim sanity
when the reality
is their thoughts are free
and optimize
a sanitized
and homogenized
batter
And in the end
it doesn’t matter

Offering suggestions
in which they
feel threatened
Pathways congested
and protested
Testing them
Even worse,
bested
A problem beset
upon them
Time to steady
the flock
Roll n’ Rock
Inoculations we’re getting
Start the injections

“It’s been an honor”
Mounting my Lipizzaner
A disarmer
A charmer
The armor
‘mi amor’
Leaving me
wanting more
But as they keep score
the task is daunting
A life that’s haunting
with such splendid decor
-
Yet, can’t take any more
Their taunting
is leaving me sore
So to the atmosphere
I open that door
and flying up above
I soar

Forever more
Feel pain no more...

As eighth month of the year
both within Gregorian and predecessor,
     the Julian calendar, where
said month originally
     named Sextilis in Latin
since averred month ranked sixth
     in ancient Roman calendar veer
really changed to August in honor

     of Augustus Caesar
     pinpointed eight Earthly
     steeplechased rendezvous roundabouts
     clocking viii sun danced orbitz
thru metaphorical solar turnstile,
     sans common era there

after retaining a trace
     of antiquity doth square
lee tug at mine olde ink
     quiz hit heave egghead noggin
     heady curiosity shoppe,
asper how lunar place name

     linkedin as rare historical tidbit
thus, when at a loss,
     what to write poem about
an unexpected brainstorm
     found me not to doubt
Google when literary eureka
     came to this lout
(only I own license to debase self)

just on the verge,
     and ready to pout
fearing writer's block
     as if creative juice
     yielded nary a drop from thine figurative
     fountain oft times
     gushing water spout.

As a poetic foot note, aye
frequently ponder about
     millenniums gone by,
and peoples, who
     dotted with graveyards
     of lovely bones after they did die
     the four corners of the globe,

     this twenty first century
     chap doth espy
harem there, a debauched prurient
     hot pocket of mankind
     (woman too of course)

     begetting, fostering, mothering
     ancestors of this guy
retaining genetic characteristics
     that got pooled watering
     survival of the fittest well nigh.

When I close my eyes, it's like stepping into a whole new world. White flecks in the darkness flash green and blue, the blackness bleeds red and I feel the sun warming denim. It makes me feel as though I'm at a standstill. Like this is a dream, a form of aesthetic that isn't quite my flavor and I have no place but an intrusion.

I hear wind chimes in the far distance, like a sparkle made up of sound waves and I suddenly wonder if the neighbors down the street are feeling this way as well. Or if it's just a fantasy, if this world is just a daydream away and we're the blurred figures we never remember but always see, like how people from dreams are real life people you've seen before. I like to imagine ourselves as those people, forgotten but lingering in the mind of whoever is staring down at us, if there is one anyway.

I find it easy to breathe: no weight down my chest or numbness crawling up my esophagus. My leg is swinging, my eyes are scanning and I should be enjoying this day like a normal person should.

But I'm not. Not because my heart is slowing down or that my mind is pulling me apart but because I know that whatever I do there is a filter that blocks me. Because even if I act happy and normal there's still a screen between us, made up of stigma and prejudice. Because I'm me.

I hear a baby's cry, ebbing into laughter and I wonder if I can be that innocent, that happy again. If I can be content with my life.

I smile sadly. "No."

Emotions change constantly.
I experience a wave of the new.
From happy, sad, anger.

At least that's what i thought.

I saw them, these disparate faces.
All trying to claim my personality.
I thought and tried to protect it.
But really it's a sin.

A sin to be because it obliterates the self
myself.
And such a sin
imperils reality itself.

So i let go of the personality.
Finally to lay bare whats free.
Because in the truth i'm not a disposition.
I am just being.

Confused in a social box of response.
In feeling these untruths.
Which are promoted as rectitude.
But they are just emotions, nothing more.

These emotions are not me.
The personality is nothing as well.
NO- THING
It hurts when you first realize that.
But then you see that the hurt is fake
as well.

So inner demons exist.
But they always shatter too.
It's all a jumbled mess.
So to escape the mind brings me harmony.

And with that i decamp.
Then openly i may find peace.
Because a constantly moving
mind can drive you nuts.

It's like a prison, as
the mind continues to create.
With no bounds or limitations
but the penitentiary is really only
there when the personality exists.

But is letting go of personality
Crazy? As you become what they call "weird"
to let go and be who you
really are requires courage.

"civilization" creating personality so let it go.
and to let go of that.
Is to let of the false fellowship.
So is it worth it?

I think yes.
To save yourself and to get rid
of social and mental dis-ease.
You have to let go.

I have to be free.
Free from the box of emotes presented.
as that i can feel it all.
And who i am.

To express to be open.
To those in society this is wacko.
But it doesn't matter.
Because they are all trapped in  temperament.

I am moving to be free from.
the curse.
The same curse i mentioned earlier.
which kills you through rationalization.

So I've seen and accepted
the faces.
I met them face to face
ear to ear.

I heard them in person.
and i saw who they wanted me.
to be.
I saw what they wanted others to see.

But i'm not doing that.
Imma be  me.
I'm not doing that.
Imma be me.

To be me is to accept it all.
I accepted the past.
I accepted the now and future
and let go of it all.

I was ready to experience truth
to see the authenticity of everything.
To lie in authenticity
and to be alone.

To not be alone in thoughts.
To not be together with others in
public.
But to be alone outside of that trip.

There are many ways to go
and the way is around thee.
In the whirlwind that encapsulates the soul.
So i can let it go.

Confusing eh?

Being awake for the first time in life
Moving on around the inner light.
The inner openings of strife/sacrifice
and seeing that the light is not inner or out.

Instead it's beyond and together.

And finally i made it to that point.
Where the mind is gone and soul too.
So that u could touch what is wise,
open, and true.

I can feel it all
and be me.
Not tainted by the falseness
of society's fake emotions.

Instead, feeling them in their truth
seeing their vulnerable nature
and truly connecting and discerning
not going and becoming.

Instead just being
be to be
see to see
me to me.

And finally, i can whisper its name.
Not fortitude's essence and flavor.
I can live not brilliantly or in mediocrity
I can be to be.

And it's crazy.
be to be
that is crazy
but it's truth
and it's really free.

We travel the world
searching
book to book, blog to blog
Guru to guru, mentor to trainer
Looking, finding, losing

Ultimately return
Empty handed

Only to find it all
And then some more
In the secret
smile
of the heart