Tænk dig
at stå der og se det smukkeste i verden, når du stirrer tomt i kolde vandpytter.
Fordi du ikke kender til andet.
Tænk dig
at efteråret sidder i dine krageben. Dit betonsind.
Dit vinylhjerte føles palperet af kulde,
at du har skadedyr i maven.
Tænk dig
at være anopsi-(tist) og alt du ønsker er at være en aerobe
der lever af kaffekunst; men dit sind søber i inkurabel mercury
Du inficeres af revolutionære misbrugere af forandring.
Tænk at du ikke kan andet
end at lade fremmedlegemerne borer i dit sind
Tænk at være et segment af dig selv
at dit deoxyribonucleic er forkert.
At gå staccato rundt.
Tænk dig at forsvinde.

The starseed was found here on earth.... on OCT 7th 1831 it was found in a lake that had dried up due to drought... No one could really tell how long it had been there..

It was like nothing anyone had ever seen.. No form of tool could open it.. No form of energy could destory it..

From what ever was inside it waitied until it was time to be born..

April 5th 1980, a scientist discovered that this starseeds markings where that of where it had been..

The dots represented star constellations.. Orion could be seen on the bottom of the starseed.. This thing has been all over the cosmos.. Seems this is its last stop here on earth..

June 20th 2013. A young boy saw something in the starseed that everyone seemed to have missed.. The dots also shaped a form of code.. If looked at from afar you could see this code to be a strain of D.N.A..

On Oct 7th 2013 a little girl named Salem was born.. Her blood matched the code of the starseed.. Today a drop of her blood will be introduced to the starseed..

Today is the day. As in customary, we shall start with the weather: The morning is clear and cool, the sunshine weak but well-meaning, the wind sweet but sharp and the trees green and chatty.

This day has been a long time coming. This day has. For too long it has skulking amongst the future pages of some misplaced internal diary. It's long shadow has been edged with fear, dreaded like an exam. Said fear melts away like yesterday's clouds, replaced by sunny optimism, for this date is now set in stone, frozen hard over night it now stares me down with oblique neutrality.

I'm not going anywhere, it whispers softly. You're fears are misplaced. Your fear of me is a your fear of death. Useful up to a point - but essentially irrational. Whatever will be will be and it will today.

The morning gather pace and after momentary brief salutations and briefer negotiations the train is boarded. The destination: no one knows. We know the names but they seem oddly sterile now, the sound cold hard lumps in our mouths, currency worn smooth: Edale, the pennines, the peaks, Absorbic. Citric. Folic, Formic Carbonic. Sulphuric. Deoxyribonucleic, Lysergic. Acid.

The absurd signposts of anonymous hamlets lazily swing by with increasing rapidity, blurring into one like the blades of a helicopter.

Post-industrial scabs and sores instantly give way to merry bucolic splendor as itchy, thick balaclava of the city in torn away. Laugh about nothing as we are hurled headlong into some postcard image of an England long lost between 'then' and 'now' where trees sing, walls are dry-stone and happy cows and sheep await noble, happy deaths; all wrapped in honey-coloured sunshine.

Rolling mounds of soft green matter undulate gently to a halt, and we emerge intrepid coloniser of a galaxy far far away. Locals eye us warily, the hot sun looks down angrily now. The baking mud coughs dust in our eyes and yellow spears of dead grass stab our tender shins. The warm fuzzy nostalgia that we are draped in gives way to...something else. Illogical patterns snake across verdant valleys, breathing and twitching. Harsh blue sky melts into hazy horizon, like oil on water. Panic sets in.

Pleading looks are exchanged and whilst reassurance is sought, none is found. Each gaunt face is scoured for hints of strength. Leaderless we wade through a sea of shimmering heat, collecting beads of sweat, losing hope of succour. We seek solace in plastic pound-shop distractions, only to find we are rendered too numbskulled to operate children's toys. Terror turns to horror. The yawning maw of madness, death is now so close we are caressed by it's putrid breath...

Release! Baking savannah morphs to cool,  mottled-green grotto and everything has already changed. All is bathed in verdant peace and ears can feel the cool lapping of a friendly stream.

Tripped out blackened falling past back through the CRACKs again
Blasted wasted all of it tasted so FRESH again
I am who I say I am, but what am eYe?
Perception, damnation, ascension, redemption
Falling, falling, rising, writhing in the light the serpent tWiZtS
Like a DNA double no triple quintuple helix outside the bounds
Imagine the sounds, can you expound on the downtime?
Know what I'm saying if it's not clear to you
I question the norm and fall back into you
Am I insane? What is sane? To feel pain? Or to ignore it all, fall, fall, only to rise, the skies have opened up and spilled their seed upon the ground
Sounds like Chaos. I'll make it.
Peace. Equanimity. Balance. Words have power, but we give it to them. A serpent could just as easily be a dove. Vibrate. Ommmmmmm. Sanskit. Hebrew. Who knew? Enochian keys and Christian disease. Why do they believe? Because they're scared and it's all they have to turn to. They are given no other options. Open your ******* MINDS. Question authority. Think for yourselves. Nobody else can tell you what is true. There are no authorities, we just let them boss us around. **** hierarchy. I'm a monkey, you're monkey. Just because we can string words together doesn't mean they make sense. Just because you write something on paper doesn't make it true. Change is good. Any change would be welcome in this stagnant society. Hey, look, that kid can spell deoxyribonucleic acid. He must be smart. Don't believe it. Cost effective *******. **** Newspeak. Why are you letting them take away your freedoms? Are you really that insecure? **** the police state mentality. You don't have to listen to those people. Don't listen to me either. Listen to yourselves, your inner voice. You know what is right. Man's law is not God's law, and the Bible, the Koran, the Torah, these are all MAN's words, twisting the eternal truth into chains to bind you to their ways. **** that. You will not find God in a book. Think. Question. Go off the deep end. Lose your ego. Don't be afraid to experiment. That cliff is waiting, jump, jump, JUMP, you won't fall, you'll fly, oh **** they fell for it, you're falling, you're falling, you're ******* FLYING, wings, and it's all all right now, ain't it, off across the Universe to better brighter things, ******* words limit the conveyance of the true message, but it's all right, you'll get there, just forget everything you know, and BAM! it's right there.
Free your mind. Be. Om. Words lie. Truth is.

This one’s for the smart kids.

This one is for the honor students, and the straight A students

This is for the kids who stay up half the night studying, and the kids who work their ***** off for their grades

This is for the kids who can define and spell Antidisestablishmentarianism or tell you what DNA stands for (it’s deoxyribonucleic acid by the way)

This is  for the teachers pets, the geeks, and the nerds. And the student who skips parties so she can study for her test.

This is for the kids who can solve complex mathematic equations in their head

This is for the kids who know that you don’t use “I” in a formal essay, and that okay is spelled O-K-A-Y, not O-K.

This is for the kids who can recite pi up to 200 hundred places, and the ones who can solve a rubix cube in 2 minutes flat.

The ones who take two language classes, and the ones who have been saving for college since they were born.

Geniuses of the 21st century, this is for you.

I would give you a gold star and a check plus for what you’ve done, but I’m sure you have gotten plenty of those. So I think I will just tell you something that only we could understand; Superb job at pursuing your academic careers with such ambitious outlooks on the world, and for having such admirable self-motivation.

I know that sometimes it ***** to be academically inclined, but in 5, 10, 20 years you will be working in some law firm or doing something you love and making multiple figures while the kids who blow off their school life will be stuck working for minimum wage at McDonalds or as a waitress for the rest of their lives.

So keep writing essays and doing extra credit because it’s not enough to survive high school, you have to thrive, and reach for the metaphorical stars.

What is this pulse I feel?
Stark, ever-present, the tumor with which
life is sustained.

The sky today is remarkably dismal
raindrops along the sidewalks
which I cling to:
not out of reliance --
but out of need.

The world is a bleak gunmetal grey
The Promethean fire of our reluctantly naked sun
cannot even bear to expose itself today.
So, it hides.
It hides like we all do.

What is this pulse I feel?

It hides like an introvert at a party
who escapes himself
into the blare and blur of a horrid
solidarity of bottles and children
and the illegal activities with which
they so complacently cling to.

Hides like a man in a pin-striped suit
who is concealed under white teeth and
leather lounge chairs and contemporary
architecture.

Hidden like child at a shopping mall
whose mother is almost attentive
as the child hides in a clothing rack
and screams:

"You'll never find me!
You'll never find me!"

And the mother realizes that her
child is gone
And the mother finds her child.
And the child never realizes
that he will never escape the eyes
of those whom he doesn't want to see.

The child may want a mask but masks never conceal effectively --
and if they do they're uncomfortable
and press against your face and suffocate your skin.
And it's easier just to let everyone see you
than to be an isolated mask amongst the ranks
of autonomy-hungry deoxyribonucleic acid.

What is this pulse I feel?

The child dies in a car accident several years later.
Oh, well.

And so, I am here --
the world is sullen and steel
as the raindrops fall upon the sidewalk.
It's as if the world is a graveyard
no one dares exit their shelters to
let the cold Truth gently fall upon their faces.

What is this pulse I feel?

The water falling from the Sun's shelter
answers my question:
"You are a raindrop, you fall from the sky
and land, cold, onto these concrete streets.
You may distinguish yourself amongst the other molecules
but you are all Hydrogen and Oxygen.
Your identity is nothing.
You are but an off-key baritone singing in a chorus.
The chorus is an ocean;
the aggregation of all human water molecules.
What's one drop to do?"

This pulse I feel?
It is one of billions, and it is indistinguishable.
I cling to the sidewalk as I step further --
hands in my pockets, stepping further.
Step.

I hear the abyss calling.
It takes the form of falling rain.

I guess I need to confess that this immaculate mess is mine
I'm blessed with the burden that's so divine
Like growing vines that encase you
Replace who makes you wait two times as long
Rhyme a song, find a **** and hoot it
Life's the ****, so shoot it
Who knew that you would be
So blue doing what you were created for
I hate it more than I love it
Covet not
Pop shove it
Stop taking all the credit
Or I'll edit you out
Embedded in doubt
Have you ever drowned in a drought?
Some people call it the pasties
The way they see me is their own business
I live this particular way
Because it was how I was made
Blame the manufacturer
Mother nature fractured her brain
The rain, it cleanses
Life through new lenses
This world needs a bath
To wash away the senseless
Defenseless against the dark arts
There's hard parts of the head
Starts out red
But it slowly flows from a blood rose to burgundy
Heard it from me
The colour pallet awaiting the paint canvas
**** this train of thought went from Katmandu to Kansas
I cant stand this
How its all jumbled and mumbled together
Whether or not it fits the plot is obsolete
Not so sweet with the transitions as far as the topic goes
It stops it goes
It's hot it's cold
I do not know where these thoughts grow
Though I'm content with whatever the noggin sent
To the mouth hole
Like my vocabulary got a toboggan sled
And rode it to the south pole
Faster than Clark Griswald with his fancy *** sled wax
That tore down the mountain with lightning speed
It's frightening we'd
Do something so unrealistic because we sit
Amidst this oblong box
Listen to these odd, long talks
And say hey, they did it, why cant we
How bad could it be?
National lampoon did it flawlessly.

I thought that he was going to discuss
What the fuss is about
But now, how wide we've strayed
Played his word game
This is an absurd sane
Must be crazy
But it don't phase me
Cause I know one day, you'll have nothing to say
And you'll attempt to paraphrase me
Saves me the head and the heart ache
Taking the time to lay low
In this forsaken day glow
Swim over to Havana
Have a banana with Jose Conseco
Hey go on and on
Like donkey kong
Sing me the donkey song
You know, by blue rodeo?
Oh we go on for days
In this phase of saying whatever comes to mind
Have some of mine
The thought process of this confession
Was nothing but
What?
Merely electricity
Created almost instantly
The consistency as you can see
Is never there but I never care
Ever stare at your own hands when you're not high
I am every single line that my thumb has defined
Deoxyribonucleic acid trip
Hey hey hey that just mean DNA
We can play because of this double helix
I can feel it
So surreal its as though I know myself through code
I could explode and I would be only mathematically scattered
I'm flattered that you might feel bad but you're
Overthinking it
Trust me I know
Because I have the capacity
Not to let me demons show
Its me that goes all this way
Monthly second Sundays
To say whatever the hell I have to
Have a laugh or two
Between these increments of sadness
This attraction to madness
Is tearing me limb from limb
Not being a simpleton
It's not an easy task
Ask me about the weather
And I'll mentally kick your ***
PASS
On to the next subject
Ejected that last *** hat because
He was too plain yogurt
If I could have a super power
It would be a one punch, with no hurt
Just to assert logic and rationality
To take you out of your shoes
And place you in reality
Now that we can free you of your amigo
The ego
Can we go on with this metamorphosis
And realise how **** poor this is
Of course this is not the zenith
To how we live
It's a semi civilized society at best
Dividing and devising
Study for the riot test

Curve your enthusiasm with a lyrical ******
Have em once a day like vitamins
The devil, I'll invite him in
Just to look and see what evil truly wants from me
Haunting me constantly
Cant we see that these demons
Even though they're within us
We cannot let them win us
Thus, Me.
I befriend the deep end
The creatures of the week end
We spend a tremendous part of living
Not forgiving ourselves
For **** we had no control over
I'm ******* over it
No longer sober
For I've felt the weight without a crutch
It's such a heavy head to carry
Variables and hairy situations
Enter the train station
Every single person here needs a brain vacation
Its the moderation that gets me in trouble
Double the dose it goes slower the time
When you're intertwined with cloud nine
I'm proud that I have recognized
What resides inside of me
Leo is the lion
But I have no pride to be
The drunken king of the jungle
Iron fist in a stumble
Mumble something dumb?Full of myself but I can still be humble
Dumbledore's sorting hat would slither me in
To slitheryn
For what consists inside of me
I need something to wither in
Considering the very thing that keeps me here is fear.

So to the wolves, throw me
They'll treat me like Mogli
So rogue, I know there's no home to go to
Though I know where I don't belong
I cannot be wrong
I am crucial to the universe?Believe it till I'm in the hearse
Because the worst is always right there?Don't agree
We don't have a word for good dreams,
Cause all we know are nightmares
And I care about it all
I feel the globe in my dome
Actually the galaxy
Is right inside my iris, see?
He who tries to convince me otherwise
With realise that these teal eyes
Keep me safe inside these surreal lies
Why?
Well to recreate this spoken poem
I think I'm from a broken home.
Not in the aspect that my dad wrecked
What it means to be a father.
I could bring it up, but **** it,
Why should I even bother.
But what I meant to mean is this,
And I ain't trying to diss,
Mom gets involved with a man with money
This life is a joke
And ****, its not funny.
He drinks, he drives, he can't see his greed.
He's the reason Alice Cooper wrote
Only Women Bleed
Needed a way out, maybe an outlet
Out to get out of it, and I'm **** well proud of it
How?
Because I get to portray the way you see me.
I don't manifest the detested specimen I'm in.
In fact, I act according to whatever state your head is in.
I'd rather adapt than have to illustrate where the hate originates.
Open the flood gates and explain why the bud makes me feel great.
I'm not okay, and that's just fine.
I wouldn't ask for another life, I want mine
Cause when you combine
Pain and pleasure
It's something you can't measure
You pass gas and someone acts like you're a national treasure.
Better to be loathed for how you help your head
Than to be loved for every little word you've said.
Instead of getting upset, I just like to get high.
It's more socially appropriate
Opposed to sitting inside to cry.
I'm over it, the sober, it's
No life for me
I'd like to see
The colours that only live inside my fantasized make believe
Why??Because I'm alive, god ******
I can live in moderation
You need to work hard to get that californication
No predestination
I create what I want to know
For it goes to show this
Life is thinking that we know bliss
Robbed of what we long for
As if we don't notice
But it's this ******* that we call self
That calls you a ***** and you don't need no help
Because in the end if you depend upon anyone but you
You're hoping that another soul with get you through
Whatever happens to occur
Sure we all could use assistance
But when it's persistent
Then what
Putt putt putt like the little train
Who couldn't do anything by himself
Who would often complain
Drive everyone insane
Till the coffin's a gain
Hey that aint me.

I'm looking for the middle ground
A happy little place where I can make a little sound
So profoundly wound up
I'd hate to unravel
We all want stability
With the ability to travel
To the far off lands that no man has tampered with
To get the whiff of damp air
That the rains just gave you
It will save you
The grave, dude, is a way that you
Give back to the world
And as your body unfurls,
Your presence does not.
Physically you are distant
But never in thought.
Who you are, and what you do,
Will live on
So live long, as long as you can.
Sell your ****, quit your job and buy yourself a van,
And when you get to the end, lend it to some man
Who truly believes he has nothing more to see.
For this man was you.

This mind set, I've sorry, guessing you've been lured in.
I'll leave you to rest
Of the Blessing and the Burden.

See over my right shoulder, the dead, dreary, dead branches of the wintery trees, barely moving in the ever-powerful gust of wind driving this dead, dreary, dead wintery season. Not even a fervent burst of energy can move the slim slivers of silver gray metal fibers springing out from the ever-overlooked sabers of the smothered icy flatland.

See over my left shoulder, my pale, ghostly, pale face staring back at me forcing my lucrative thoughts to my shaking hands. Not even the strongest helicase enzyme could unzip, untwist, unzip the simple, dangerous, simple deoxyribonucleic acid strung down my body, running down my veins like my steaming morning mocha, caffeinating my blood, my blood, my blood and pushing me to push farther, deeper, farther into the heavens of my thoughts, the meadows of my eyes, the hell atop my fingertips – one, two, three, four, five.

Thank heavens, your heavens, my heavens they’re all there; the unsolved mystery beneath my fingernails is still lost, lost, lost like my last fourteen chapsticks. Help, anybody. Does anyone see a lonesome chapstick tube? Forget it. It’s right beneath my toes – one, two, three, four, five. I am standing on top of a gold mine—inhale the chemicals, feel the potency of the potential inside of my body, do you realize how stupid you were? I gave you my attention and you took it like fame, I gave you my love and you took it like medication. Darling, I gave you my everything—I gave you myself but I can’t say you took it because you never did, and instead you stole my muscles and my bones, and the gravity holding up my chest from crashing back down on me after every single breath.

But most importantly, you stole my magic potion—one sip of that ever-so-clear concoction has the ability to provide me with a splinter of the sun, just enough to shine illuminating light on my mind, giving me the realization that I am still drunk off of you—and you and you apparently. But you grabbed it, took it, grabbed it, you thief, and you left me here to bear the freezing, cold, freezing winter on my own. My body is numb, my brain is numb, my heart is numb, and not even the symphony of my screams is enough to shatter, shatter, shatter the icicles surrounding my soul.

Instead, all I have is a noxious, lethal, deadly, cup of noxious, lethal, deadly poison, and I can already feel a single sip of its opacity slowly trickling down my throat like molasses. And it burns it burns it burns. Look into my eyes. See the raging heat rising, dilating my pupils to their limits, vanishing the blue from my irises, and understand that the words coming out of your mouth burn me like lava, and the volcanic essence of your intentions burns holes in my veins, leaving a forsaken cavity in my chest. So the next time you have the opportunity to articulate an opinion, make sure you don’t create a copy of the key to the cage of my own personal dragon, waiting to breathe fire on your words and wrangle, mangle, wrangle your next ones.

Before my deoxyribonucleic code has been sent
To my mother by a male parent,
I was on his land of sand,
As barely apparent.


(spermicide)


2. Then, I was finally sent
Into my female parent,
On another land,
Barely planned.


A couple of months went that I spent
In my mother's abdomen rent
On that green land,
Barely planned.


Then, my rentee went to that land,
Flying to the land of crescent
Where I was to be meant
For a big moment.


(embryonic)


5. The event happened, the end of the rent,
Under the flag with the red crescent;
I was by a Jewish name penned,
On the fifth May after Lent.


Falling into my mother's hand,
Still without any dent,
Back, I was re-sent
To motherland.


On that land, red in discontent,
White until the Lent's end,
And green at Lent,
I had one parent.


I had no knowledge when he went,
But I was without a male parent,
With only two women, a grand-
And an abnormal parent.


His furious leaving left an advent
As my mother madwomaned
With a schizophrenic scent,
To madhouse "never" sent.


The balance keeping us under tent
Was our draconian grandparent
With an infinite financial grant
That let us live on that land.


For alms, we walked to granny frequent',
And I loved her as my parent
For that little attachment
I barely experienced.


The further notions I experienced:
I was sent and sent and sent;
Nursed, schooled, churched,
And kindergartened.


But even before my childhood could end,
I found myself hard to befriend;
Playing the play of a dement
With an unmatched brand.


A playful kid, maybe too vehement,
Among others, a crazy element,
I was, but inside silent,
Over-vigilant.


I liked to observe others' comportment;
What was that I have been meant,
What made me outstand
Like an alien, mutant.


Step by step, I wished the end
Of flying dishes and plant'
At my domicile rent,
End of the torment.


(pubescent)


17. I wished to vanish from the torment
Of social-antisocial banishment,
But I saw no escape slant,
Only in my poetic lament.


Though, before those sad lament,
I tried to see my life and mend
My heart with compliment,
Some failed love event.


Minutes, days, months and years went,
A lot of school skills that I learnt,
But the best one in my hand
Was the ability to pretend.


Even if I swam well in crosscurrent,
I wished to end, leave that land;
Searched by my male parent,
I planned to visit his land.


Then, my mother went to madhouse mend,
For what, I was by my university banned
To work that went well, but I meant
To start or end a life in sand.


(twentified)


22. So, as my twenty-first birthday present
Finally, I Africanly citizened
To know my descent
And the crescent.


Beyond the French and Arabic accent,
I manned myself on that land
Where I was landed and
It's not yet ended.


Changing the cross to crescent,
I could be happy and...
But people prevent
Every event.


I'd been married as I planned,
But my fam is an accident
As my birth in an extent,
In this actual land.


What to do, socially I try to pretend
That I am indeed an element,
But my DNA was meant
To disappointment.


(at present)


27. Seen these verses, it's abhorrent
As well as writing a lament,
But as a birthday present,
I wish a Happy - End.

buddha vishudha
sweet purple umbra
ajna penumbra helix ribbons
rise like feathers out of my face

I looked into our eyes today
I tried to smile when I was dripping with awe
and the corners of my mouth quivered 'til my jaw dropped

I sit and breathe deeply as I see our reflections
and the vertices of all our faces interlacing in intricate ways
I find myself breathing in their rhythm
I find myself telling my mother I love her

We cry jovial understanding into each other's eyes

I catapult myself up through
deoxyribonucleic staircases into
blossoming realms of emotion

There's no time! No words.
Everything is so familiarly alien
and entirely understandable.
I feel everything.

Vaginalicious lips of a ******
My blood boiling but will it deep-fry
Bootyful scent, heavenly blessed with vigorous acts
Salvation, who needs it, i have ******
Perverted lies, formally known as depth of our eyes
Hidden and buried, in the openings of your inner canals
******* at its finest, convention of the furries
Bend over as you groan, make your daddy proud
Swear on your breast, spit out your sins
*** for the poor, enough for everyone
Every mother is a mother i'd like to tuck
Under my sheets, where they belong
Prepare your **** speech as i try to reach
Insert my deoxyribonucleic acid
In the dirt where you work, down to earth
Pounded forever, from nine to eleven
Here's your order, hope you enjoy
Cameras rolling, focused on *****
This will make an excellent plot
Sauce drippingly delicious extravaganza
Handcuffs included in case of a need
Sharpen your knives for hundred wives
Night is long, keep your disguise
Poles and ropes will go together
Sticky fingers, sliding up the shoulders
They said i have no talent, that it's just for a show
I'll show 'em my skills, you know the thrill
You'll become the star of my ***** film.

your love is my epidermis.
it's the largest ***** in my body,
covering me head to toe,
hair follicles dotted
amongst smooth skin.

you're my intestines, baby,
because stretched out
you're longer than you appear.

when you whisper to me
it's like my liver -
your words galvanize,
purifying my existence.

and we come together like
the chambers of the heart,
like the phosphorus bonds in my
deoxyribonucleic acid,
like dead skin cells
making my hair longer.

we come together like my teeth
when i chew pepperoni pizza.

DNA, deoxyribonucleic acid?
or could it
mean
DO NOT ALTER.

Nuphar carlquistii; disheveled parish; her dynasty
Deoxyribonucleic barcode, celestry
E Chord, timbre and thunder
The moon is delicious, burnt umber
Whose tomb, Venus
What heir to the doom of ,
What plant pruned, sheared from
The bemuse of the dead, the naught
The wreath of fig leaves, the drum beat
Frought

my mother a dying supernova
my father a wandering world
but me — a relentless pawn
blooming from apocalyptic dust

papa taught me:
find what scares you and run
don’t walk
sprint, dive headfirst
plummet as fast as you possibly can in its direction

it’s easy to hate yourself when all your love is inside someone else
string together every hour that nearly ruined you
and tell yourself you are not divine
don’t forget the parts of you that you left behind to get here

mama told me:
you are defined by the sequences of your deoxyribonucleic acid
and by the way in which you hold another’s heart
something strange is that —
sometimes people hurt you because they are afraid to hurt you
but that is one gracefully inevitable fact of being human
and that’s what makes it okay

how far does your empathy go?
does it push your organs aside and permeate your skin?
does it leave your body for a new one altogether?
how lucky are we to have been scathed just enough?

we spend our whole lives trying to force the things we love to intersect
but take it as a truth there can be no other way
surround yourself with people you’d be thrilled to get stuck in traffic with
never underestimate the occasional importance of someone’s gentle company
one day you’ll catch yourself listening to someone
like everything they say is an answer to a question you’ve always had

heebie jeebies couple months before March 15th, 2020

More'n three hundred and sixty six days ago,
a pandemic did devastatingly blow
across the webbed wide world
dark shadows spelled glow
bull horror seeds of hell show
did terrify **** sapiens  
with unimaginable woe.

I revisited the following poem crafted last year
so little known about the when, why and where
concerning then Doomsday scenario unleashed
accept my humble apology if message unclear
giving reasonable rhyme details just threadbare

bard lacks scientific penchant I honestly swear
appalling attempt at writing trademark metered
poetic endeavor doth not lessen how ye revere
yours truly who would be amenable to answer
personal response, thus email me questionnaire.

Aye reckon eyes aforementioned microscopic organism
doth strain credulity threatening **** sapiens left agog
stupefied, whereby mortality of species existential crisis
pitted against unseen rapacious (non public) enemy glow

bull diabolic scourge plaguing world wide web humbling
**** sapiens arrogance, bombast, ecocentrism... fueling
outrageous mortal kombat concerning toilet tissue to stave
virulent pathogen wreak havoc across webbed wide world
immune systems entire bajillion complex edifices, (albeit -

biochemical, deoxyribonucleic, fantastical, helical, Judaic/
Christian, liturgical, neurophysiological, pathological, ollie
ollie oxen free radical, typical, virological, xylographical -
zoogeographical aerodynamical, critical, elliptical, genii
logical, ad nauseum) metaphorical house of straw knocked

(knick knack paddy whack...) upside the head obliterating
(one fell swoop) - fast as greased lightning defenceless ill
prepared immune systems rendering bipedal hominids law
n gevity (courtesy hiphop wordsmith Kanye West) basically
electric kool-aid acid test corroborating, galvanizing, plus

liberating riotous yawping, capitalistic, horrific, narcissistic...
aforementioned poetically licensed entitled germ cells, yours
truly suspects Mike rowed the boat ashore compromising rug
harding infecting taster's choice mortal human flesh, a fancy
feast inferred courtesy Sikh's six sense (mine), where spreads

trumpeting, kickstarting, and hooting virulent bugaboos flu -
went within ways and means of contaminating, infecting, and
orchestrating pandemic veritable microcosmic beastie boys foo
fighting (linkedin) twittering... figuratively and literally bring
***** simians to their knees (knobby in my case) maneuvering

offensive (salient parry and ******) undermining physical health
among village people (think - human league) field day nabbed
(dagnabit) vulnerability, susceptibility, and quintessentially awk
wiring advantageous edge, whereby wreaking havoc across avast
global swath temporarily forcing twenty first civilization braking

(fast) bringing living social muckraking and mudslinging species
(envision) bajillion people suddenly deprived of cherished helter
skelter hubbub devoid (car own nah fiat issued without warning)
mandating swarming multitudes against buzzfeeding capital one
good n plenti frenzied madcap lifestyles necessitating, quickening
uber vicissitudes (zero sum game) witnessed by level playing field.

The universe wants us
Our indigenous proteins scalloping thin shoulders blades
Into riveted glades to shake Gravity
Deoxyribonucleic infrastructure fracturing
Bleeding, Fiends
Comets in the air we breathe
Scouring thrusts of History
ego me miseriae
Viscera lips render sulfur stents
In my imaginary

(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and combination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zapped.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivocally validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term offspring
embarks upon a lifelong journey (initially as  
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.

Twas accursed destiny
since birth (maybe coded in
deoxyribonucleic acid  
since time immemorial) alas and alack
nascent emasculation abominable barrack
emergent deus ex machina,
one common Joe biden his time
for no particular
rhyme nor reason
revisiting mine days of yore,
when protectiveness courtesy
older sibling come
from behind ruthless counterattack.

All equivocation aside,
she/her thirteen plus months
and twelve days
constituted chronological senior gap
eldest sister struck like diamondback
against bullies who targeted me
as a poor defenseless “scape goat”
surrogate "mother" role
assumed tubby exact
protectorate viz pseudo fullback
against cruel foo fighting beastie boys
hurling black barbs
firing verbal slings and arrows.

Escapist exploits to cope
being brutalized, and traumatized
synonymous when Brian Williams,
(not the newscaster,
but neighborhood school chum,
who shared same namesake)
we imagined ourselves
courageous dauntless explorers
while toying with his beebee gun.

Mein kampf one after another
against relentless barrage of flak
comeuppance effected giveback
pummeling spongiform mine
now sixty plus shades gray matter
fisticuffs sister didst highjack
proxy mated mothering
kept corporeal essence intact
jilting nefarious nemesis aligned
jumpstarting, maligning, and stalking.

This fee-fi-fo-fum
bling ordinary bean sized Jack
err runt (arrant) cowardly
(fee lion) dorky and nerdy lad
owning nada knick knack
paddy whack give my dog a bone
a fide scaredy cat,
he/him an aging baby boomer
older married chap doth adumbrate

satisfactory accomplishments lack
king, where crazy
quilt aimless wandering
described purposeless multitrack
thus, sympathetic, and empathetic
to hue men/women nonblack
or decimated aborigines
once populating Australian outback
existential nihilism would,

undergirding hypothetical
unwritten paperback
with little need to prevaricate,
nor appear as quack
***, one measly **** sapiens,
who accrued millennial
palimpsest gestalt zeitgeist
where, punctured, and zapped
disequilibrium created

psyche dust rack
asper protean (in utero)
multitudinous setback
soundlessly resonating
with concussive thwack
as this rickety ship of state
(never confused as fêted junket)
unwanted emotional ballast to unpack
asseveration, asper assiduously

preferably welcoming
dry suction no vac
jarring this pawn (knight wannabe
in his bishop rick) torrid
me psychological wrack
king within (castle keep)
complex edifice shackled
in dungeon with repast constituting
present day long winded conversations,
where she volubly talk yakety yak.

alternately titled: tick tock runneth amuck
seconds elapse imperceptibly
leaving me dumbstruck,
how quickly fleeting tempus fugit;
ofttimes imagined as time thief.

Hence following vignette: quiet as a mouse lurks the time thief

The invisible hours hoarder stealthily steals precious seconds (like minute hors d'oeuvres) away during the dead of night surreptitiously and unsuspectingly robs and buries me alive by subtracting each and every precious second of my tender life.

As the world spins, the days fly by at nearly the hummingbird wings at the deathly hallow supersonic sound, this little elfin grot sized goniff (groomed by Father Time) monopolizes and usurps a greater role like some unwanted guest who overstays his welcome.

Mortality (visited by quick and painless demise) on the other hand would be an especial balm, relief and tonic to my countless decades long existential slog, which this model ’59 hew man cargo happens to be in sore need and want of that fairy tale genie in a bottle to grant me eternity.

How quickly the hands blindingly **** by instantaneously eclipsing memories from yesterday (when all my troubles seemed so far away) as I just barely shucked off the frock from today.

Meanwhile faint hints of tomorrow (albeit dark shadows creeping imperceptibly closer from the edge of night as all my children frolic in the summer of their blissful innocence totally oblivious to the galloping generational gourmand grandfatherly clocker) hungrily prowling on the outskirts of styx strewn groveling grooved globe.

Nocturnal creatures emerged from respective hideouts regaling in fleeting festivities (apropos to their species/ genus) before the curtain rises on another dawning day.

Although an unseen yet palpable grim harbinger (per prescribed existential allowance) precedes, and allocates finite years sans spontaneous birth of life, the daily hubbub finds this introspective individual self-absorbed in gloom.

Thus, he infrequently finds himself conscious of that eye popping, jaw dropping, mind boggling sheer speed of light flash representative of his passing life. Where in the world did those days, weeks, months, years, and decades go? Try as one might to catch the robber baron of ages, he/she also appears to be at least one second ahead.

These immeasurable micro moments appear to leap ever faster as one inches closer to that average length of longevity. Odd though, that these indiscriminate discrete constituent parts of being consciousness well nigh impossible to isolate, yet recognition prevails at cradle to grave cycle.

I feel utterly dumbstruck at diminishing residence on this planet now while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams. An indistinguishable blur (akin to the brushstroke of an artist across blank palette yet to be covered with an unpredictable product) the only evidence that tempus fugit.

Now as one crotchety curmudgeon contemplating cumulative chapters of mein kampf (from childhood to doddering sexagenarian senescence), nostalgia for yesteryear like a parasite symbiotically festering inside for unrequited liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

The second these minute, gnarled, bent arthritic fingers manage to lay hands on that bleeping son of a blank, hours and days will be like one endless months long week-end without parental supervision.

Throughout mankind's awakened consciousness
elusive abstract notion
identifying past, present, and future
adopted as avuncular personification;
Father Time an apropos sobriquet
impossible concept to grasp
within the mind of one Finnish huckabuck,
whose clodhoppers get mired in muckamuck
analogous to quicksand yours truly stuck
markedly challenged, hence
mission scuttled when attempting to zuck.

Ever since the advent of civilization
contrivances crafted to measure
days, weeks, months...
years, decades, centuries...
analytical “gifted” anonymous minds,
wrought ever more sophisticated inventions
to divide existence into manageable units.

Now twenty first century **** sapiens
technological atomic clock work mechanisms
markedly catapulted by quantum leaps
immense degrees of precision  
extremely accurate types of devices
linkedin with state of the art electronics.

At this fleeting instant
(approximately 8:18 AM
September 13th, 2022)
ever so briefly wedged between
what elapsed and future events to arise)
impossible mission to isolate
that illusory present,

not only cuz the herein now
flits away at light speed
(or greater - you're right quite dubious),
but also everywhere within
cosmic space/time continuum
infinite microscopic and
macroscopic events occur.

As an amateur thinker
I feel baffled when pondering
that crude convenient schema
whereby greater minds than mine
devised devices to measure passage of time.

Yours truly can barely articulate
his farfetched dumbfoundedness,
me merely a simple brute
(shortish but not so nasty),
whose permanently creased
furrowed brow courtesy
his scrutinizing noggin
encasing fifty plus shades of gray matter,

whereby one percent bonafide Neanderthal
deoxyribonucleic acid explains
atavistic predilection issuing primal grunting,
when foraging for small (lame) game,
cuz feeble minded twenty first century
run of the mill garden variety **** sapiens
amuses himself (mentally)
toying with Einsteinian paradigm.

Though barely able to fathom
mind bending and boggling concepts
theoretically linkedin if an object
subjected to travel speed of light
(particularly an objet d'art - ha

think The Persistence of Memory
series of clock paintings by Salvador Dali)
mass becomes infinite
as does energy required to move entity.

Obviously the ability to wrap one's head
(or hands for that matter) around,
humongous (super sized) material essence
filling subsequent seconds, minutes, hours...
defies feasibility to grasp,

neither could ways nor means
allow, enable and provide
any semblance to hold (tangibly) as solid
something so abstract
as a singular moment, yes?

The above (ambiguously stated) thought exercise
equally as challenging where to locate
beginning and/or ending point
upon Möbius strip.