The ground
Rumbles and cracks
As the army
Of heaven
And the army
Of hell gather
To prepare for the final war.

I stood alone
Watching and waiting
For the outcome
As swords and wings clashed
I saw many fall
But never hit the ground

Falling to my knees
I couldnt watch anymore
"Choose..."
A voice said
I looked up
And saw something
I couldnt understand
It was a sword
The blade face down
Stuck in the ground.

I reached for it
But it burned
My hand
Gripping the hilt
Bitting back the udge to scream
I pulled it.

Holding the sword
I looked around
A black beam of energy
Tore through my chest
As I fell to my knee
I turned fast
"Now it ends!"
I scream.

Raising the sword high
I slam it into the shadow
At my feet

I hear an inhuman scream
As I back up
The shadow appears
To take form

Looking closer
It is me but darker
Laying in a pool
Of black blood.

Turning my face upward
I scream
So loud the angels and demons
Stop and look at me.

A little girl appears
Out of the shadows
Running to me she embraces me
"Thank you."
As her energy engulfs me
Before she disappears.
The demons
Back away in fear
For now I stood with the angels
The sword of my destiny
In my hands
Clad in white armor
Ready..
For the final
Inner Apocolypse.

rising action is building fast
the little details are flying past
all blurring
slurring
intwining
and defining
the new paths to take
for the stories we make
chatoic confusion
we slip into delusion
time has no meaning
info replaced dreaming
the rules are so tight
that internlay we fight
our secrets we defend
just want this game to end
bets passed round
cards laid down

no one can win
and the game begins again
.

A shadow like me
Its leaves are blacker than black
Against the grey sky

Post-apocolypse
A cloud of billowing ash
In the aftermath

Of Vesuvius
Rain falls on cold embers
In this film noir

As my hair turns black
And clumps, black as rotten stumps
Black as mottled roots
Clung to a pale corpse

Droplets play in golden light
Then a lightning strike
The gravel sound
Angels passing on the ground

Wandering lost as moths
From light to light
My eyelids hang heavy
Ready to close me out

Phoenix in the night
Burning
Burning her broken heart

I'm standing on the walls, staring at the crossroads.
I've got a good feeling about the path I'm taking.
I'm blindfolded, but can sense my way around with means other than sight.
I've got blood that's aching to flow.
I'm cautious with my trust.
I've felt the golden grace of silent space, and I know that's my home.
I'm floating until I can shed this silly body that’s weighing me down.
I've touched the dreamer's dream and have lived it over and over time and time again.
I'm a tree with branches for others to sit on.
I've learned about the essence of true love - the unconditional care for another soul.
I'm certain that everything will unfold as it's meant to.
I've experienced too many miracles to think otherwise.
I'm exercising my right to be a human.
I've seen too many people be prosecuted for their existence.
I'm coming to terms with my immortality.
I've lost my ego and have played tug-o-war with it for lifetimes.
I'm beginning to regain what I once believed was a sacred space.
I've spent too much time dwindling down my days idly.
I'm taking off and eating the road and the New Jerusalem.
I've flown the coop west and met the holy men.
I'm considering staying put to keep monks in style.
I've climbed red rocks and felt higher than height.
I'm guessing when the apocolypse will come.
I've read Revelations.
I'm thinking it’s all in my head.
I've seen too many other me's to think that I'm dead.
I'm gonna shed my fear and fly with the birds to Heaven.
I've already grown my wings out.
I'm gonna sing with the rhythm of the wind.
I've seen her come and I've seen her go.
I'm content with her transparency in my life.
I've been the same for others.
I'm just reflecting myself back to me.
I've seen the mirror.
I'm afraid that the mirror is descriptionless -some call it "God", others "Buddha", and others "cheese".
I've written too many words that mean nothing.
I'm the embodiment of nothing.
I've scoured the nothingness for anything and thought I found something, but it was really nothing.
I'm part of the whole.
I've met the pieces and they're just like me.
I'm writing my novel word by word.
I've ran the race of tempests, and found no sanctuary.
I'm the founder of my own legacy.
I've founded my own foundation.
I'm consciousness embodied in temporary physical form.
I've painted my body.
I'm painting my mind.
I've painted a canvas.
I'm the canvas of my world.
I've decided to untie the knots of curiosity.
I'm pending on whether I should throw them away when I'm finished or not.
I've hurled passed the gas clouds at extreme speed, clarity, and tranquility.
I'm alive.
I've been born a human.
I'm blessed as could be.
I am you, and you are me.
That makes three.
See?

go ahead and read, and then go ahead and write
put down your words, before you forget them tonight
don't keep them in your head, let them bleed into paper
write them down, and breathe them life from their maker
let the poets curse do it's work, and let it take rage
and the words let loose, boom across each fragile page
keep your words in fear ,of the hungry flames
don't let them know your lovers endless names
plural singularities and gentle rebukes
you dare not share them lest they learn refute
bind them, a slave, to a dreamer's soul
find them split and make them whole
learn their true names and wield the power
to read the poems, until the last dark hour

My sleep is crowded
With recurring nightmares
Of failing Grade 12 French;
Standing naked and exposed;
Seeing the one you love
Love someone else;
The anxiety of an empty back pocket;
Swerving cars,
Crap falling from planes;
The inevitable chase and stumbling
Just ahead of the apocolypse.
The morning daymare news
Is definitely more frightening,
The end times more certain.

Looking down I can see myself fly through the 'doors of perception'

Sigh

the apocolypse rides by


and I thought they'd be men.

Tuesday starts with a clunk in my chest,
a reminder that I might be
'Best before end'

(a supermarket trend which I fear will catch on)


However,
I'm flying and that's a step in the right direction.

the hardest part is the start

I waver
and at times savour the connection between hope and fear
but to get anywhere or somewhere there's always the start point
and it's a sharp point.

I learn by
(another sigh)
my mistakes

and thankfully they become fewer as if the starting is a cure

Just calm me
I'm flying and trying
to teleport

'Star Trek'
for the old wreck?

the light's are on somewhere
and there's another book
to read.

Part 1

I am blind
There is a darkness
It resides deep in my mind
Pitch black
A million screams
Stolen breath
Peace I cannot find

Puppet strings
A piece of me for everyone
Lifeless toy
For the taking
No repercussions
Except for me
In the cold
I bare the weight
While they
Walk towards the sun

Damage done
I reek of it
Disaster
Disappointment
Broken shards of life scattered at my feet
Chaos unfolding for the one hundredth time
Blood droplets
Purple markings
Rage
Tears
Rage
Tears
F*cking rage!

A life lived in turmoil
Body broken
Too many times to count
Salvation questionable
Empty hands exposed
Reaching
Pleading
Body cold as ice
Silent screams abound
Save the beast

Part Two

And then
A voice
From distant places
Not of this reality
A faint glimmer of light
Breaks through the haunting darkness
Interest piqued
Hope held high
Yet walls still high as heaven

Words like tiny fractures
Fragments falling
Piles from the past
The wall begins to fall
Crumbled bits of broken dreams
Broken bones
Lay forgotten at my feet

A spark of heat
Eyes wide open
Is this reality
A warmth beyond comprehension
Am I deserving
A hand expressed
Immediate fear
The wall not fully shattered
A word is spoken
That unearthly voice
Like music to my apocolypse

I am redeemed
Lifted out of chaos
The wall surrendered
To the nothing that was me
Ascension
There is a light
I can see

PRECIPICE.

It was one minute past twelve when the first was fired,
By five minutes past twelve thousands had reached our atmosphere,
An apocolypse by our own hand that evil inspired,
Eight minutes past twelve cries from 9 billion frozen by fear,
What do we do as a race when at the precipice of extinction,
What power do those in power have at the end of human kind,
In less than one minute our world will be struck by our own mass destruction,
We are now all just brothers and sisters as the clock strikes nine,
though it was only in this moment we understood all, all the bad and all the wrong,
All the wars, all the killing and all the ignorence,
The world we saught to destroy held our unity all along,
The human race was now one of human benevolence,

————

Two hundred thousand years upon our world and it was at our last sixty seconds,
That we had known peace, we had known the heavens.

I am Jimmy.

pre-apocolypse is the world around
and everyones doing their part.

The eye of the hurricaine is still and lonely.
The sands on the beach are left untouched.
The church pews sit empty.
The store shelves are scant.
The pitches are quiet,
The playgrounds are empty.
The fields are burnt.
The waters are grey.
The air about is thick and acrid.
The windows are shuttered, doors are barred.
There are no moving bodies on the streets.
Cars sit idly parked.
Schools are childless.
Does this sound like the dawn of the apocolypse,
Or another four years.

We are not your prayers answered
we are the sudden stillness before
the sick realization that the
woods around you have become
darker and so very unfamiliar.
We are a generation
treated as disposable
but asked for endless solution.

We are not the prize waiting
for you at journey's end.
We are the parting of ways
that follows like a raw nerve.
We are the departing
backs of comrades
that no longer have
purpose left to serve.

We are not an audience
of hushed worshippers
at your feet.
We are the shimmering
air that summertime
rises from the street.
We are the scared triggerfingers
on people who have finally
had enough.
We are the liminal
space between now
and an empty room of guf.

We are visions of
impending apocolypse.
We are faraway destinations
of many short little trips.
We are a little bit of
yesterday tomorrow.
We are emptied of laughter
and wasted on sorrow.

Mostly a scheme mail is the email with a plan,
don't fall for the scam.

I'm buying gazoodles of *** noodles because
I'm panicking,
thinking zombie Apocolypse
thinking, buy tons of potato chips,

see
I slipped and fell for the scam.

add to the basket?
I'd better order a lead casket,
now
that is random.

Siren alerted
Hide down below
Before all life
Ceases and explodes
Apocolypse applies to all applications
War inside
A damaged planet
Heal the wounds?
Push the bullet in further.