I cannot recall the precise moment  of my arrival at Anhedonia
memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant
precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story
some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia
some fatal blow that cinched the deal
some horrid event that could not heal
some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved
some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved

nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture
élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate
I was quite lighthearted before the inferno
before my brain broke
ennui now a   turgid companion
feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine
esurient unrelenting usurper of  happiness
go away, leave me alone, relish some other  soul's  madness

gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth
miseries are mine, many the days since birth
better I was carried  from the womb straight to the grave
a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain
it's as if I was born into a well
but these waters they burn
the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell

Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor
your verse is an adversary
a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm
a sordid verbosity  assuring no norm
a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration
some alliance of fulminating disquietude
the cost for the fare on the adventure to:
the stunning moment  you too will visit Anhedonia

Everything I once knew has been stilled:

I fathomed my mother’s voice whispering
In my juvenescence,
She weaved a tapestry of tales
Whilst her pearlescent eyes
They glistened,
Enveloped by downy lashes
Ebony and yet unassuming
For
The night domineered.
Unblemished enough to
Garner the praise
In the clarity of
My reverential heart,
As I lay there
Tucked in,
Once peacefully,
Yet now shaken
By
The disquietude
Of the restless twilight,
Upon an azure king-sized mattress
Primped in creaseless Space Jam sheets.


They were set by
The grace of her manicured hands
However slightly,
Chestnut and replete
That longed to,
By the Blessed Oracle
Speaking with a God,
Summon the Salvation
Of my long lost rest
That Raged Leviathan
Where,
To be cocooned in The Sea of Shadows
The thew of dreams would be born.

She sanctified my fears
Like coal oppressed for aeons
By
That Treasured Sphere
(Terraqueous Gaia)
Until by
The Womb of the Mountainous Mother,
Were reborn
As the Children of Diamonds.

Or perhaps
Like a baptismal kiss
That floweth from an ivory chalice
By which
The soil of my life flowered,
For a quaked youth was
Bestowed
With a fading taste
Of the transcendence at dawn
Poured upon my palate
Until
The Garden of the Valiant
Bursted into bloom.
(Tis where the Behemoth lay nestled
Under the Age Old Tree of Life
And Sylphs soar beneath iridescent twilit skies
Illuminated by Providence
Of the Half-Faced Crimson Moon).


If I so chose
I could
Be anything
That
I imagined, even
Today.

Ephemeral though
Those moments were
My reminiscence
Doth memorialize in crystal stasis
My infantile longing,
Tis ceaseless in its yearning
To be comforted
When
Pangs overtake me:

But what fable is my weapon
Now?
The Hallowed Excalibur,
Or perhaps even The Ultima Weapon
With the Impenetrable Aegis
Imparted by
The Mighty Crystal
Bestowing might to its Anointed
The ones who war with their own iniquity,
Until their paths align
Like celestial bodies
And they’ve arisen triumphant,
Eclipsed the fictitious light
Of a false deity
Who besmirched the truths
That upheld The Cosmos
Since its genesis?

There is one tale,
(Lean in, listen closely,
This is my Susurrus in the Night)
Tis no figment
And one I found most favorable,
One of a man
Simple,
Strong,
Stunning,
Sound,
Sapient,
And high over all but
The Desideratum of the Holy,
The one to whom
Even the angels, seraphs, and cherubs bow.

He was scourged
In flesh and spirit
Till his pulse was silenced,
His inestimable blood
Prophesied to vanquish
Chaos and
The Futile Wind
Of life
That by
By the disobedience of
Our
Tarnished Father,
Is now
An accursed child

She
Is effaced by
Time
(For Sorrow has no end)
And
Tormented by Space.
(Height,
Breadth,
And depth,
O that Existential Fabric)
His caverns
Condemned Her
Without
Compassion.

The thought of solitude
Looming in mortality
Were the dreadful horns
Of an Auroch that
Pierced
Her consciousness
Until by
Proud Oppression
Hope
In its frailty
Was a dandelion
Strewn by skinless hands
Against the immaterial
Brush of the breeze.

To flourish then
Wither,
Wax and
Wane;
Never
Was a fate
That our God intended.
For eternity shines and
Is a supernova
In the galaxy of our hearts
And though undiscerned
By many
Has always been
And
Will always be
The Cherished Wish of the Stars,
For though we are an exhalation
By contradistinction,
Even they become nebulous
Fading into dust.

We shall
Become
Exalted and ennobled
Even to these who are
Of the luminaries,
Lowly
Brothers and sisters
Without Ears,
Eyes,
Hearts,
Or minds.

Yes,
(These vibrations resonate from the Cosmo-Plexus of Love)
Soon enough they say,
Soon enough.

renegade memories
relentless effrontery
rogue  fractured intruders
a formulable formidable aside inside
man is a modified monkey
a jackdaw in peacock's feathers
contradictions, the multiplicity that is a unity
a patchwork of odds and ends
snips and snails
                                  dreams and delusions                                
hopes and fears
a mystifying  knot of  phantasmagoric  disquietude

agape in a stupefied bewilderment
as an autistic child swept up in minutiae
inscrutable incongruities
melange of matters beyond  explanations
maundering machinates
necessary inventions repeating and reforming
sheltering some aspect of the mind's deforming
'reaction formations' sotto voce instructs the analyst
defending emotions at the personalities bequest
    merrily merrily merrily merrily,  life is but a dream
psychotherapy is no mere scheme

Thursday, January 2nd, 2020 &
Friday, January 3rd, 2020

The Resplendent Sol shineth forth for each one of us. We are all one, even whence divided. In truth, there is no schism betwixt us.

       I awoke this morning assured of the Cosmo-Plexus' Empyreal Love, The Ransom of the Lovebound, and Provenance of Life by the Holy Dove. I am sure that his auspices remain even now. Even in the din of disquietude, in the Soulborne War of Stillness, his aegis dost remain.

I am roused from my slumber by foreordinance. The maelstrom of lament only stirs the Leadings of Lovelight within. I must simply listen to the glistening waft to illumine my shadow'd microcosm.

From what Starlit Aethers shall my Niveous Dove alight? From thence shall heartsease unfurl! I know not when the Light of Life shall shine his visage upon me; yet and still, I must trust in the sweetness of hope. Her honesty inspires faith & amour.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, there exist no needs for unrequited dreams. Why? The fantast fathoms imagination an extension of reality, a synergy, a duality, a plurality. Yet, even the phantasy desires realization.

The Rainbow is an insignia of the Noachian Covenant. The prism is a kaleidoscopic thread, one woven across the firmaments by a Grand Creator. It is a dream realized, by the Divine, of the Divine, and from the Divine.

       How can I find stability, how can I summon strength without the Light of the Lovebound within? Our moor in a sea of sanctity, is he, Christ.

Sometimes I feel chasmic & abyssal, as though my heart were a rapacious sea. I know not from whence this emptiness has arisen, nor from whence it can be sundered. Yet and still, I carry on, sometimes consumed by the seductive embrace pulsing betwixt my ribs. Will the charm of despondency unfurl its pall over me forevermore?

At this moment, pristine synchronicity aligns my heart & mind, thereby affixing my entity upon cloud-nine. I am genuinely enough; I am genuinely substantive, for, at this moment, reason & rhyme intertwine upon the wavelength of the sublime. Therefore, I choose happiness not because it comes easily, but because it is the only real & authentic way to live.

----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------The Life-Bearing Dictum:----------------------------

(Added for the
Promulgation of Inspiration
On
March 11th, 2020)

----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

(I) "Creativity is the residue of time wasted."

-Einstein

(II) "Darkness is the birth of a new dawn. It should be celebrated, not feared.

-Aladdin Zackaria

(III) "For look! I am creating new heavens
and a new earth;
And the former things will not be called to mind,
Nor will they come up into the heart"

-Isaiah 65:17 (New World Translation Study Edition)

(IV) "For you the sun will no longer be a light by day,
Nor will the shining of the moon give you light,
For Jehovah will become to you an eternal light,
And your God will be your beauty.
No more will your sun set,
Nor will your moon wane,
For Jehovah will become for you an eternal light,
And the days of your mourning will have ended."

-Isaiah 60: 19, 20 (New World Translation Study Edition)

---------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------

Moving faster on than the speed of light
I am stuck here standing still
Make the journey look so easy
The climb is all uphill

I have attempted to take the first step
Cannot manage even minute motion
Limbs must weigh a thousand pounds
Resistance as if in the ocean

My awareness acutely sharpens
Realize I am in over my head
Suspected the pain would hit me eventually
Didn't know it would feel like a ton of lead

Waves of loneliness continue crashing down
Drowning in a sea of solitude
Silence keeps me company at night
Amplifying disquietude

Toxic impure tainted thoughts
Stain images in my brain
One by one they descend and splatter
Like stinging drops of acid rain

Poisoning environment
Questions harsh and demanding
Every breath inhaled is polluted
My body somehow remains standing

Inside hopes are spiraling to the ground
Impact results in fire
Burning dignity
Blackened and charred
Flames that never tire

Wayward demons romp in soul
Delight in my dismay
Carving tic-tac-toe boards into flesh
Misery just another game they play

I reached a brand new all time low
Abandoned strength to care
Cannot find the motivation to do Laundry
Today I wore no underwear

Those unfortunate enough
Cross my path
Targets for my distress
Knowing causing them despair
Does not make mine any less

I bear witness to actions
Hardly can trust my eyes
This selfish behavior is that of
Somebody I do not recognize

A sporadic black hole swallowing light
Eclipsing visible sun
Pacing anxious circles
Trapped
Nowhere to run

I wonder if you gazed at me now
Would you feel any emotion at all?
Have you closed off your heart from me
A tall
Thick
Cement wall?

For one last kiss I would trade with glee
Every possession I own
Nostalgia blooms under skin
Chilling to the bone

I felt lightning when we touched
Flash of passion warm and strong
I feel frozen without that spark
Depending on it so long

The galaxies in eyes were deep
Brighter than the multitude of heavens stars
Shining harder when staring at me
Still sparkle wherever you are

I miss the way torsos collided
Hugging eachother tight
Perfect puzzle pieces molded
Fitting together just right

So much time experienced by your side
Why do I yearn for more?
Should be content with memories
Let you walk out the door

An invisible string tethers me here
Tied with fear and blame
Following like a shadow
Like a moth to flame

A small voice tucked within
Whispered phony fantasies
Argued there was still hope for us
Was wrong to entertain those pleas

You take my universe in palms of your hand
With fingers firmly shake
It collapses
Manage to convince me
It was caused by MY mistake

Again you paint my world grey
Colors fade from sights eyes see
I have no right to be mad that you took them away
You are the one who gave them to me

The day you decided to leave
Without saying goodbye
Consider a sort of funeral
Let our relationship die

Twilight finds us separate places
Dwelling in a dream
I inhabit dreaded ditches
Realities worse than they seem

But I was affected more drastically
By the void left behind
You felt a bit emptier alone
I lost huge chunks of heart and mind

You carried on with your chin held high
No ghosts stalking every move
Recollection of rippling presence
Haunting hologram I can't remove

Into self-pity I throw myself
Asking for merciful end
How else will I find relief?
Tried countless ways to mend

That ends in certain failure
Lacerations cannot fully close
They bleed and bleed and bleed
Dripping out woes

And I was at breaking point
Each cell cracked and shattered
Exploded into tiny particles
Damaged
Across soil scattered

With a gust of wind was disbanded
I'm fated to retrace my tracks
Collecting pieces of my soul
Haven't yet gotten all back

You changed me irreversibly
Can't stand my reflection
Where beauty you used to know once stood
Is a paradigm of imperfection

For life of me I can't remember
When switched from hot too cold
The truth is my temperature dropped
My hand is now too icy to hold

dying and living in a pantheon
~


a dusty storage place
for basement keepsakes,
somewhere out back,
full of emeritus stocking stuffers,
an ex-trendy,
royalty-dethroned room

where kept
ancient scriveners,
last year's flash frozen princesses and
plastic wrapped scribes,
cloud stored,
on soft decaying hard drives

prior renters, leases unrenewed,
now pushed aside,
upcoming upstanding upstarts,
looking to trade up,
let bigger quarters,
an existential reminder,
that in the word game,
no perm-press recognition,
in today's poetry biz,
it's what ya done lately

deaf dumb blind,
unsung former idols,
talk to mirrors
that no longer answer,
dial 1-800-pantheon,  
sorry, number no longer in service,
so you voyageur-visit
the other side of Styx,
a bluff overlooking
a body's work,
where glory fleeting
comes to rest,
where time judges well,
partiality impartial,
selects thy best

author an audience of sole one
that be more than
good and plenty,
a heaping teaspoon of sufficient,
glance back at discarded, outdated maps,
glory may transit
but satisfaction eternal,
when you read the old writes thinking
****, did I write this?
"Yes," answers a creased smile
cracking crusted lips

~~~~~

then blood of pride and satisfy, rejuvenates

chest warms, heart thumps,
quill beckons, tablet charges - jot hot

write for whom the bell tolls,
knowing full well
this raucous bell tolls for thee,
you re-become an
irrational ill-defined room possessed

heat,
this realized, fevered and fervent, physical pleasure,
sensory gladness,
the fat fullness of creation,
flooded breathable sunlight,
stormy uncalming indigo waters,
a natural disquietude beckons,
arousal of an old-friend welcoming

this encompassing emotion,
no-direction-known fearful commotion,
your mind, all skin,
tissues enflamed,
your ears speak,
your tongue listens,
five senses unified in
disheartened happy discordant perfection,
this you recognize,
this familiar,
is not a storage place
this, your true everlasting pantheon

glory glory - expel thy word works,

*the burnishing of fain fame
is not walled jailed,
but in-deed
actionable and transitory best honored,
peaks of mountainous-emotions, homeland, motherland,
recording, recoding in words-vision notions,
this is the one,
the inky clarity pantheon place
of the living poet

The hatchets swings from right to left
cutting sway in magical arc glittering acidic polish
labourers strive in whimsical grafts and melliferous distune
the gods in Olympus stand akimbo watching meddling mortals

No demigods in hazey disquietude sees
for those the gods forsake wear the laurels made for Pompeii
time will tell come the days of transmogrification in Cosmos Paths
the oracles files litigation before the gods against impostors vile

The seven tongues of the seven headed dragon
flicker between the dawn and dusk, between mist and flames
salacious visions mired in morbid delight cooked with arsenic dew
a cauldron boils for givers and takers, a chalice of retribution awaits

Lord how do i continue?
Thy carries the freight of past horrors and future possibilities,
Upon my shoulders
Such a sense of disquietude.

I may fall due to this Lord of Light!
as every step i take on this tightrope,
flashbacks of dreadful memories come back
putting me off balance!
Nay!

I must take a step back,
or two
or fall!

Put me out of my misery Lord of mercy!
As i wobble on this rope,
trying to find my balance
How!
When their is nothing beyond this tightrope!

Lord!
All i observe into the distance is fog!
the future is bleak for me if i continue
on this tightrope!

Hail the Lord of Forgiveness!
looking behind me i see fog
what if i just jump?
from this tightrope

liquid dawn, headphones, cold, and restlessness
pills, tears, and helplessness
it’s at times like these that I feel like I’m falling behind, without facing
disquietude, medicine short of patience

I hid in the bathroom to spit out my disappointment towards me, always the abomination
because I just can't seem to do anything right, what a desecration
they knock on the door but I have no breath left to answer
could it be because of my pounding? I can't endure the slander

lips lie then pray for attention, for someone to cry for me
but that someone is not there, and it's so dark in here

The distilled quiet
Quite a sign of disquietude

The sun shines bright
Overcast skies eclipses the light

In the shell the baby bird thrives
Invisible shells hard to break

Glass, transparent as can be seen
Breaks into shards, toughened or not

Distance, not in metrics
It’s the words, absence or otherwise

Parallel lines, forever run along
A journey, towards the end, begins

Moving towards what makes you scared,
  Seems dangerous,
But doing it we must!
Safety is not embracing or accepting of what we know,
  there is a certain disquietude with familiar dread
That comes from internal conversations  unreconciled
What to do with who we are now, in the moments ahead.
Trust the “ letting go,” for fear is only an abusive perspective.
Many of us cling to our fears, doubts, self-loathing or hatred
Clutched comparative choices walk  hand in hand.
with the desire, the wanting,
to be rid ourselves of disempowerment.

an index pressed on my lips  
the air rank with cherries
spits of rain, and thunder afar
my breath at a minimum
and this love is already augured w/ scars

Under a twilight glow
Cole's incantations
ease my disquietude
her voice an effervescent hymn
lulling the snakes that reside within my soul

what paradise
to lose
a
season
under my nose

She questions the validity of her arrangement  
cards dealt by "life"
she questions me
she questions the intent
she questions tonights heavy glow.