Behold the problem
Ask for the answer
And accept it when it comes

Death as a symbol of the World
A mere change in form
There is no fear only love
All is forgiven in the here and now

Your perceptions are healed
Sickness, an illusion
And all mis-deeds, undone
Love looks upon itself

There is no separation
Resist any fear
Eyeballs are not the seeing
By which dispelled illusions are recognized

Reinstate your constructive powers
Your mind is healed and you are forgiven
There is no pain
There are no problems

The voice on the phone
God is calling
Behold, a sharp object  
To drain the blood and hasten life
So be it

Shallow is the breathing
As the chest widens expands and opens
The Universe poured out
Into the infinite and the eternal
All is Light and Energy
So be it

Stardust gathering
Galaxies twice unseen
Broken planets for fixed-up minds
Tangled and ****** she sees
So be it

A radiant abundance
Meaning-less
I want to go home
More will be revealed
So be it

Blades give to shades unknown
Undue the World to satisfy
Not of this flesh
Vapor wounds
Pushes me forward
Bringing me home
So be it

In my self deception
I had refused to see
That which I hate in you
Is what I can't stand in me

Fire sparks shoot up and disperse into the night air
from the cranial fire pit loaded with fuel that are
brain matter logs, boiling, melting and sliding down
the face of devastation which ultimately seep slowly
into the crevasses of molten Earth.

Eruption at the base of the brain stem blasts a hole
through the amygdala, corrupting the untouched
regulated functioning of the fight/flight/freeze mode
of primal survival skills and throws it into super
overdrive for ultimate hypervigilance/paranoia reactions.  

Nerve endings not spared and frayed to their ends, leaving a
permanent state of stinging to the flat iron man frame
where the muscles have turned to rods of steal and skewer the
body into pieces within themselves leaving the sections
consumed in deranged realms of a twisted reality.

The valves of the heart rapidly banging and bruising itself
against the hollow ribbed-bone cage at the core of this
unseemly resemblance of human on the outside and a
battered mess of ossified particles of tissue on the inside.

The cigarette smoke bothers her
They switch seats
Arms pointing this way and that
A lady walks past
Their lips move and their heads nod in agreement
Winds are high and trees rustle violently

Complete Silence

Sun on their faces
She is wearing work-out clothes
Legs crossed, he is intellectually speaking
The ***** faced man washes up in the public fountain
The city bus rolls by at 2x the posted speed limit
They return to their high-pressured jobs

No Sensory Receptors

The post office closed at 3
The line at the Deli is out the door
The highway bridge is under permanent construction
The advertisement billboard is weathered and half torn off
The paint on the hood of the cars is peeling
And the flower pots need watering

Deteriorated Social Skills

Trash bags are ripped and leaking
Alleyways smell like the State Fair Grounds
Dropped the meter money down the sewer drain
Badly need a haircut but they only shine shoes
Homeless ask for money, cigarettes and directions
But they don’t take advise

Can’t Connect
  
Unusual looking aircraft hovering the area
The Philly sandwich had no peppers on it
The public restroom door won’t stay shut
The public library is a haven for the illiterate homeless
Dude leans into the corner to light a pipe
The good Tai restaurant shut down and is now a Staples

Feeling Nothing, numb


I am there
But I am not here
Nothing can touch me
But everything hurts
Seeing in silence
And hearing in darkness
Not in my body
And away from my mind
Catch me I’m falling
I live in a glass jar

I write to relieve the pressure of
emotions and energy building up inside
of me that demand to be released

I write because I have no other
Creative outlet to express the outer
Cosmos which reflects itself inside of me        

I write because I cannot paint or sing
Or build things with my hands, have
Scholastic intelligence or a skilled trade  

I write because I am too self-conscious
To let others see who I really am and  
I’m afraid of intimate relationships  

I write for the enjoyment of writing,
For the play of words, imagery and for
The art of communication that comes forth

I write because I need to record my
Observations and the learning experiences
I receive in communing with Nature  

I write when I don’t feel like working
And doing my chores and taking
Action toward responsibilities in life      

I write when I am wishing I were
On a far away island soaking up the
Sun and riding the ocean’s  waves  

I write so you can connect to me
And so that I may leave an impression
After I am no longer in existence