Kno(po)w(er)ledge

The cadence of your words is
different,
your inflection not the
same.
Phylogenic
synonyms,
we are genotypical
antonyms.
We argue using words in the same
order
as we construct verbal
walls.
I guess the wedding is
canceled.

The subway:
a bustling place,
crowded with people
going places.
At the counter you're
ready to begin the transaction.
"You want that on white or wheat?"

Broken words.
But we try.
Broken glass.
But we hope.
Broken songs.
But we sing.
Broken  lass.
But she loves.
Broken words.
But we speak.
Broken bad.
But we care.
Broken songs.
But we sing.
Broken lad.
But he loves.
Broken you.
But you fight.
Broken me.
But I try.
Broken home.
But we sigh.
Broken we.
But we struggle.
Broken strangers.
But we welcome.
Broken world.
But we stand.
Broken light.
But we shine.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray for dreams sweet and deep.
I hope when morn shall come,
I see a bright, a warm, new Sun.

No way.
Yes way.
This way.
That way.
Right way.
Wrong way.
My way.
Your way.
Our way.
Their way.
One way.
Two way.
Three way?
What way?
The way?
Which Way!?

A mind can be seen until it stumbles
over dimmed names and faces.
Then the mind suffers occultation.
An amnesiac affliction manifests in
sorrow of the unafflicted.
Some last visions of the mind are experienced
in a mirage of health.
The one loved has gone missing
in death before dying.

Oh crap!
Another loan,
the never ending tale,
the true infinity of bills,
oh crap!

We are $ signs,
a resource to be mined,
refined, eroded, until depleted
by legal bait and switch(pay no interest now),
sacrificed at the Alter of
Mammon for those who
falsely claim to treat us as family,
as they bury the fine print, knowing
patience is rare.

Projects not finished,
emails unanswered,
birthday cards late,
letters set aside for later,
books unread,
meaning to call old friends,
not saying,"I love you," to spouse,
walking the road paved with
intentions,
desiring to make amends,
uncalled kin on holidays,
that peevish resolution,
but not late for your:
Funeral.

from you, today, I
received an osculation-
death by affection

I come home and you
haunt her chair.
Gone on to forever,
are you her phantom?
Perhaps you are a live
parallel to my loss.
You fade in and out
like a t.v. ghost.
Doppleganger, why do
you visit me?
Is it another world
where I am the phanton?
Do I haunt my analogue's
chair?
Have I gone on forever
for you?
Do you feel a live
parallel to your loss?
Perhaps we will intersect,
and the haunting may end.,

FB weltschmerzen and Google distress.
Time for gemutlichkeit, bathing in
rays, almost cocooned in a hammock.
Please o sun, wrap me in your warmth.
Mother Life rock me with your concert
of natural lullabies, perchance to make
love with visions as I nap.
O, if Depression comes, can Joy be far
behind?

Bird watching-
My buds and I.
Stunning-
Is she a mirage?
Territory-
Mine boys!
My approach-
Country roads.
Her response-
City streets laughter.
Back to buds-
Creative evasion.

An inflammation of the brain,
your image ubiquitous, your
form engraved In my mind.

This feverish madness possessed
me from our first.  
The fever also afflicted you.

My tears stain your monument
as I stand here still sweetly
insane after all these decades.

You loosened your hair
with dramatic flair
as we loosened wear.

We nibbled here and there,
nibbled everywhere
in birthday bare.

I entered your nether hair
in mutual flare
as we made the nasty pair.

It was grunt an share
and moan an pair
till we were sere.

We were long time bare
till donning wear,
our only flare.

Now as you go forth into
the world, Facebook be with you.
May Facebook give you peace,
wisdom, and knowledge beyond
understanding which transcends
your numbers of approval.
Thus ends the Benidiction.

Some claim God gave them passwords.
It's more like an excuse for an easy pass.
Others think you've been bypassed,
left behind without a entry pass,
an encryption you won't get past.
We are ieveled by the passage,
even though others think, "failed, passed."

Studying endangered species: the poet watchers.

Dividing property.
Who gets the children?

Fireworks for the new born,
awards for the eighth grade,
the senior parade,
a couple kneeling at the altar,
gathering mud and mortar for home,
community building with friends,
over fifty years of love, laughter, and tears,
a good bye before turning out the lights,
the five stages, and I'll join you soon
aloft in glorious illumination.
Good night.

Kansas still hangs 'em high.
Albert will dangle for twelve years.
KBI presented an insufficiency to 12 blind mice.

A mischief destroyed Mr. Wilson.
He has no North Pole any longer.
He hangs on the tree of injustice

Awake late,
seance with haunts of
elsewhen, embracing,
past lives, memories of
long smiles and pressed
kisses between the pages
of the mind before vanishing
into the tent of dreams.

wages of love + labor
                   =
exhaustion + satisfaction

My dad's ego was the pillow
by which he smothered the family.
He brought The Commandments
down from Mount Fatherhood.

We were heretics if we questioned
his Testament of Rules for Living.
He provided Bitter Soup for the Soul:
Put everything in the vise.

He claimed it out of affection, but
it was from the pits of the id.
His superego was malleable, but
not anyone else's.

He is gone and so is mother. The rest
of us are buried in his legacy, struggling
to escape the dung in which we live as
we fight demons of baser nature.

Companions
in love, out, in,
reaching, rejecting, drama,
cursing, cuddling, crying, smiling,
using, supporting, arguing, living
surreally.

We
    all,
         eventually,
                             fall
                                    to
                                         Earth!

BgOdX

Listen to the wind speak.
Listen to the rain patter.
Listen to the heat hiss.
Listen to the falling leaves.
Listen to the ice crack.
Listen to the ground shift.
Listen to the tides pull.
Listen to the fauna run.
Listen to the plants grow.
Listen to the stones vibrate.
Listen to the humans utter.
Listen for the silence.
Listen to it if you can.
Listen to the Eternal.

Polarized people. Hatred from non sequiturs.

MUST warn the Earth. Too
late!

Too late once written.

Broken childhood: a time of
bullhorn accusations,
multiple contusions,
latch key abandonment,
Christmas disillusionment,
an alcoholic atmosphere,
an alien in your own life,
murdered imagination,
cartoon relationships,
parents without boundaries,
the Dark Web of life.

An image in words:
worth a thousand pictures.

She was my alpha and
omega.
I was not her first, but I was her
last.
We took it to the nth, irrational
together.
We were an unreal pair of
numbers.
Our intersection lasted for
years.
But she took the leap into
infinity.
Our union became an empty
set.

Though the days are clear,
there is zero visibility in
the endless sleet.
It is Winter in the midst
of Summer.
I am told it gets better.
I do not understand as
I walk in the storm.

$1 down,
Title loans, no clear title needed,
Money in 24 hrs or less,
Want company, I'm waiting for your call,
Your mother is being held hostage in England,
Your soulmate is here, sign up now,
You owe taxes, please supply your tax I.d.,
On phones, computers, t.v. and in the mail.
Predators and their prey.

You booked the tour and bought tickets.
Now you stand at the beginning of your
excursion.
You shall play two minute sets of intimate,
mutual self revelation while exploring.
When the set at the last table is finished,
will you leave with someone?.

Hello, my name is
- - - - and I am an
addict.
I am broken glass
and scattered paper.
I am but detritus
cast aside by self.
I betrayed my family
with a bottle.
I am an
addict.

Public opposed research, no more children.

Shades of the soul
refusing --- to close.
Another --- long night.

Encounter of the fourth kind,
my world no longer earth at your
death.

Focus on
the images;
and snap the
pictures with
expression.

dark matter tired and
riding gravity waves-
lonely grim reaper

Childhood: that other universe
of imaginary friends,
windmill-summer days,
autumn county fairs,
frosty Christmas walks,
breezy spring dances,
and personal tribes.

Please keep reading. You are important.
This poem will begin soon.
You will not be disappointed.
Please keep reading or you may miss
a life changing experience.
This poem will begin soon.
Please keep reading. You are important.
This poem will begin soon.
Please keep reading or you may miss
a life changing experience.
You will not be disappointed.
Please read carefully:
I regret to inform you that my muse will not
return until further notice.

You have an odor,
but not one
you believe it is.


Revised version:
You have an odor,
but it is
not what you believe.

An extremophile love story?
Animal, vegetable, mineral?
From the other side of the volcano?
A 12 gender tale of Romeo and Juliet from some silicon Shakespeare?
The muse that would never knock on our door
and never is our way, our Tao.
Behold, I stand at some door and rap with the best of them,
because some alien died for our sins.
Heaven, Hell, and all other destinations.
Book your trip with Galactic Bus tours and
Cosmic Love and Entertainment now!