Cry, cry, my sad guitar! 
Not for the snapped string! 
But the thirsty desert! 
Or the contented soldiers
Who won't return! 
The lonesome willow tree! 
The innocents
Walking the green mile! 
Cry, cry, my lonely guitar! 
For the dried eyes
Of the unfortunate roses! 
Not the unending nights
Of warriors, fighters, and knights! 
But their mothers, children, and wives! 
Cry, cry, my sad guitar! 
For those taken
In Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria
who are awaiting
to be ******, or beheaded! 
In the name of Allah! 
Cry my sad, lonesome, lonely guitar! 
Not for the snapped string! 
But for the conscienceless creature
called human, cry!

Light being its own medium

Wave
If you notice me

Solid if I hit an eye
Wish
We were better at
Being
Ever conscienceless

See its light being
Not me
Particularly

A thought now
Words

Furbished that they may
Gleam

An apple in your grandma's eye.

NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
              from Tucson,AZ
                E.J.Anderegg  

In a haven of knowledge, structured for sharing,
an intruder descends with all absence of caring.

Unleashing his crucible’s conscienceless yield,
student’s bastion transformed to a killing field.

Grim reaper bedeviled with hell-bent depravation.
Safe haven for children suffers love’s reparation,

It’s not really surprising that death toll keeps rising,
While the lost moral compass despised compromising.

NRA’s pompous position truly appalls;
Corporate greed clenching sacs that once contained *****.

Though ******’s name fades, he’ll bequest mental anguish.
In Newtown hearts, where young memories languish.

NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
              from Tucson,AZ
                E.J.Anderegg  

In a haven of knowledge, structured for sharing,
an intruder descends with all absence of caring.

Unleashing his crucible’s conscienceless yield,
student’s bastion transformed to a killing field.

Grim reaper bedeviled with hell-bent depravation.
Safe haven for children suffers love’s reparation,

It’s not really surprising that death toll keeps rising,
While the lost moral compass despised compromising.

NRA’s pompous position truly appalls;
Corporate greed clenching sacs that once contained *****.

Though ******’s name fades, he’ll bequest mental anguish.
In Newtown hearts, where young memories languish.

NEWTOWN (TRIBUTE)
              from Tucson,AZ
                E.J.Anderegg  

In a haven of knowledge, structured for sharing,
an intruder descends with all absence of caring.

Unleashing his crucible’s conscienceless yield,
student’s bastion transformed to a killing field.

Grim reaper bedeviled with hell-bent depravation.
Safe haven for children suffers love’s reparation,

It’s not really surprising that death toll keeps rising,
While the lost moral compass despised compromising.

NRA’s pompous position truly appalls;
Corporate greed clenching sacs that once contained *****.

Though ******’s name fades, he’ll bequest mental anguish.
In Newtown hearts, where young memories languish.

The mental imbalance I live in
Tears me apart; I despise how
My actions speak volumes louder
Than my heart, than my soul.
I can never feel whole—not
With the dizzying ache of
Memories to regret and never treasure
Buried so deep in the mud
They turn to stone, forever
A lump of solid sin in the
***** of my earthy throat.
I feel the emotions colliding within,
Crashing, flaming, shrapnel arrows
To my pride, my integrity:
Conscienceless, dull.
Any day will death take me
Empty-eyed and still,
War having razed the skull.

Underneath the moon, in the sea.
The only place away from chaos, in peace.
Plunging downward into the deep.
To extinguish this burning flame in me.
There isn't true life without death.
Death of the old me.
Sensing awareness in each breath.
I just want to go away in peace.
Underneath the moon, in the sea.
This is the place to be.
Although I feel this life isn't for me, I have to believe in something or else I'll fall for anything.
I've never lived before.
Eternity spent, soul locked beneath the floor.
Realization seeps into my pores.
This is the calm before the storm.

The view of the shore.
What does life mean anymore?
On the land, I'm feeling so restless and my confidence is so scarce.
Burning heart, I'm selfless and conscienceless, but these dreams help me to bare.
There is goodness with you to spare.
Ignorance polluting the air.
So I'm underneath the moon, in the sea.
Embody the art within the.

My birth was an infinite hazard slowly
suddenly sparked by a singularity, dense,
blazingly intense, warm womb of everything
to be to become, pitch black smaller than a pea

induced to expand, quantum fluctuations,
give to acquire space, to grow, foreshadow my
future existence, forbearing the libertine conduct
of particles wooing, playing games of attraction

abiding by laws elegantly unwritten, striving
to unite yet at moments repelled, by forces
unfathomable, a dynamic courtship unaware,
unconscious drive of conscienceless creations.

When, an endless labour of spinning behaviour
engenders rarity, beguiling perfection, where,
a molten sphere dances around a fiery young star
at a demure distance to lose heat and hoard

water, become a sphere of stone, a cosmic
delivery room yielding conceptions, billions of species
born, lived and extinguished, primordial ancestors
evolving I was brought into existence. Who am I?

Entertained.
Contained.
Maintained.
Retaining access to once knowns,
sit still listening, not thinking anything
- calling living winning, then quitting.

Get up and ask the truth to forgive
me as I have forgiven, and correct me
where my functioning is hindering.

Stretching the cord to tie the load…

Become what truth embodied is,
cushion the fall from the stacked
featherbeds for religious businesses-

thumpwhump, takes y'breathaway

Conscienceless conscious necience,
all automated - due souly to luck in
the making of DNA, you see,
discovery is the easy part,
much more inter-
esting testing resting mind mingle,
estimating instants time in transit…
imagining the code used to build
the ladder, up one side, down the other.

Handling, managing manacled hopes,
most substantial, dashed to smithereens,
whither in the rearview I see you not looking,
not noticing the era we lived through, seeing

sublime simplicity unfold before us as we examine
essential, necience, non knowing unrecognizable,

feeling path, finding fortunate occasional fruit sweet,
as a path crossing fruiting bough slaps

sweetness perception from reward schedules,
stinging sensation, signal sending saying, it's okeh,
sudden sinking subtle ******* muddy awareness,

sniff, just agnosis dripping,
thinking life's a trip, travel light.

if this is a stream of conscienceless then i have to give myself a break
if i keep bending ill just end up out of sorts
and i know i can do this
but i keep coming up short
i have to follow through and finish what i started
it'll lead to something better
thats where my heart is