"I am going to punch you in the face" he said
burn
wistling sounds
wiped
wiped again
It's not a falicy
It's reality
you walk, you talk, you die
wonka? He was a sadistic ****
I'd drink his **** if  I had it in me
Everlasting gob stoppers. Clod hoppers
Fizzy lifting drinks to poo stink
swallow blood fest
**** out the rest
Sarpinos torpedos
squeeze my labedo chester chito
flaming hot meat he don't eat
so discreat. Now wipe your water on my leg.
is it really midnight.
YEAHHHHH
goodbye

I must let go of my expectations
whenever you put forward an idea
the idea of how happiness and bitterness
should work
you put forth expectations
on how the world works
it will surprise you every time
show the flip of the coin
if we do not live moment by moment
allowing each to have it's own
Importance
we label ourselves with
the falacy of past and future
we remember the past as only we can
Individually
we know the future by estimations
of consequence
in regard to present decisions
each day we are born anew
each day is a lifetime
a chance to Be change
to experience life according
to the gleam in our eye
label me by my past
and you label my ghost
my ghost doesn't care - it's only an imagined
imprint in the Now.

2. Happiness does not depend on
the opinions of others
there will always be those
for whom my joy
will cause the ugly head
of Cerebus to raise
and try to bite
their hair they pull
their teeth they gnash
in frustration of seeing
someone else
achieve that highest goal
of contentment within the self
it is human nature
within the viewfinder of history
to enjoy the suffering of others
even when we decry to the contrary
I must stand alone -
if I cannot be happy
in my quietest places
then that golden nugget
of bliss has not been truly found
the fire I light is for my
Own Illumination
I have no control
over the reactions of others
they may share in my epiphanies
or war against me - I never know which
but, I will always stand
within my own subjective reality
and know
My Own Truth.

Be my guide, direct my path, as I blindly *****.
Make pure my actions and encompass the whole.
Simplify what the false rights have turned twisted.
Decipher what was given from what I have stole.

Turn me to embrace an unknown angle,
I make this plea from your higher power.
For many a year has passed away, wasted,
And my minutes hastily become their hour.

Bequeath to me a faith with no evidence,
To nurse my heart and my head in kind.
Remove the falacy of presumed knowledge,
Feed my eternal soul, not my feeble mind.

And, if your will, unveil to my neglected eye,
Your drawn line between pleasure and pain.
A clearer sense of reason, but yet also of heart,
Revealing certain, a great loss; a great gain.

Expose to me, please, your most preferred slant,
And beam the light that once formerly shown.
Temper my decision, Lord, and return me to where,
The choice was not mine, and not mine alone.

For wit, time exposed, as a false friend.
Who has failed me, time and then time again.
And led me here, to where I am now lost,
Blind and resentful of what should have been.

Overabundance turns the wise into fools,
Though the complex may shrug off the grief.
As time passes on, lightheartedness void,
Sole wisdom's been proven a thief.

Lift off the burden, the weight, and the fear,
Of holding my destiny within my hands.
I have found it a burden too heavy to bear,
And I ask to be moved - not to understand.

Fading asleep
Three blurry forks in the road
three of everything
Until i blink.
I crawled up out my passenger side door like a submarine hatch
lifted the heavy weight with my back
Didn't think to roll down the window

I called the band to laugh at the irony
we just wrote a song on falling asleep
crashing our car, dreaming in autumn.
In the song, I dreamed of a girl I'll never have.
But when it happened
I was dreaming of the leftover sheppards pie at home.

Swerved into a rock wall,
Kick flipped my mercury on it's side.
I wore my seat belt
woke up drivers door to the ground.

An old man stopped to warm me.
my grandmothers ghost
in his passenger seat.
offered I sit in their car
out of the cold
Until the firemen arrived.

I saw my mother's blue SUV coming
And waved for the elderly couple to part.
tears in my mothers eyes,
she hugged me tight.
The police showed
To Check out the scene.
as I was alive,
They mostly watched me.
laughing hysterically
At how prophetic poetry can be
and how lucky I have been
And how my shoulder angels are my grandmother, and a gambler named risk.

When My partner arrived she expected me crumpled bleeding.
Smiling false safety through the phone
as I bled out
But I was fine.
she stormed towards me.
her friends stepping outside the car.
her girlfriend in the passenger seat
in the fetal position.
Throwing a tantrum, because she wouldn't get to sleep with my security blanket tonight.

she held me greiving.
I felt like this was an alternate universe.
where I survived
and this wasn't the real story.

The tow truck arrived as the cops collected my Lisence,
the medical professional
okay'd me to sleep tonight.

The firemen flipped my car onto the rockwall from being sideways.
The tow truck grinded my car across the wall into metally pulp.
They collected the bits and dropped it off on my driveway a mile down the road.
my partner drove her friends home
to return to my bed later.
check i was breathing throughout the night.

My car, crumpled. Missing an eye. Looked like a corpse.
like a reminder of what should have happened.
you could feel all sorts of spirits
when I opened the trunk.
contents compacted against the left side.
when i woke up, all i saw was laughter.
At the irony.
the shock.
how many more times
I would need to die
before I perform a magic trick.
if i turned my car into powder
turned my story to a falacy.
how long before their panic attacks become a suicide?
And I'll stop seeing three of everything.

Often times when reading the messages
poets metaphor in rhyme,
in reason and allusions and imagery

they say the same thing--as if they all of 'em took
a class together on love

they say "love is relative..."

relative to what?
to whom or how or when?
like a family member twice removed,
an aunt, a grandmother's warm smiling
invitingly familial

be it an impromtu emotion, described grandios
and Hollywood acclaimed,
love seems
     obscure
     demure
     fickle at times
     wishful
     blissful
     fervent even
     magically
     restless
     with its deliciousness
on and on so it goes / without saying too  much
how it will breathe
new life into those
     lackluster
those without
yet are
     consumed
     hollow

those without hope, suddenly are given it
     anew
vivid energy miraculously appears,
HD the world is seen / absolute brightness
faultless and star-filled
     clear

Yet it well can cause
our worst of fears
of wars / casualties / gruesome endings
   tragedies
   :a movie
with Shakespearean poetic pain,
the pentameter of the mortal heart
   sonnets of our human condition
   :a documentary
   of life

   conflicted
it is a cause many have and will bleed
for, some even die for,
searching and reaching out
whether in vain
or suffering in the pain find
awakenings

that's what it's all about ...


it is relative, to what or why
in life,
     pragmatic,
     fractal
human feelings reign -  yet a populace
of loneliness, millions of neighbors
never extend an open hand or invitation
so love can be difficult to find

in the sea of man, of many of a world separated
it strikes like lighning, they cliche
     quick
     unannounced
     unstable
it happens without warning, cupid's arrow
hits, discriptively it must be a wound..?

yes / yet no / unknown

it has begun: an end
to a means - a chemical thing
(hypothesized
in scientific circles,
I guess
just one of those undefined unexplainables)

like crop circles
in the wheat fields of the heart it is
sometimes
unpredictably appears
     obscene
     wild
     flavorful
     rigid
     rarely
     mean
     spirited
     ferocity
at times...
all the while

in nature's law of strength versus luck,
small prey to a predator : eat or be consumed,
love is not recognized (or is it? by the animal)

mate and procreate in their simplest terms.
Does a shark check out it's female before it decides
to release his *****--take it on a date, a swim in the riptides?
a bite of sushi first?

Empress bees and others with their queen-ruled colonies
birth a world from one,
does she feel the same for her thousands of husbands
fathers of her millions of children spawned?

love is relative... love is blind
another descriptive falacy
invented by folk without husband or wife or vision
nor same-*** partners : it is universally
known in these modern communities
of man-made homes
and tomes ... blind ... as if like a person, the word
unable to see,
inept of decisions, making a finale,

who will stay by the miens of our simplicity
flesh and feelings
     silent servants
     beguiling
     hidden
     treasure

Now imagine lightning striking
     suddenly
     real
     unabashed
     fulfilling
     electrifying
     sensual  
     salivating

far beyond restrictions of the flesh/ ***
past times and her finite
musings, they say it will go on and on

"forev'a ev'a? forev'a ev'ah"

so does the song repeatedly plays
so i say, as long as we are

still the masters of this life's age, kings of consciousness,
of intelligence and rage
Love tho'

     fleeting
     whispy
     liked
     quenching
     lessons-learned
aloft in flight
Love
will stay  
and as witnesses to war
or after : in peaceful days,

O the one true thing
I have seen of love's relativity:
love is relative to humans
and our
being
whether blind or whether seeing

(it's yours and ours  
heavenly
          seeking) ...







Free of will & full of meaning
Love is the truth
All Life is feeling...

All you ever believed was untrue

Conspiracy theories are happening to you

The planets line up and the heavens collide

Your only saving grace will be an open mind.



What If?



Fairytales were reality,

Misery nothing but a falacy.

Fear is an entity fed by inaction,

Bad luck is repeated by law of attraction



Have you ever stopped to wonder,



What If?



That is certainly something to ponder.

You aren't you.
You who you are, isn't allowed currently.
You can't be seriously in front of me.
You are just far away.
Don't bother visiting unless you have a stupid guest pass or something, I don't know.
But I do know that you aren't you.
Why?
Because I said so.
Why?
Because I know so, simple as that.
Same clothes, sure.
Same face, fine.
Same intellect?
Questionable.
Very questionable.
Don't you understand your falacy yet?
You aren't you.
That's like...against the code or something, I'm sure.
...........
You aren't you, okay?
You just aren't.
I miss you, the real you.
Go home and try again
I love you, you know this everywhere boy does, but...
Go look at that picture again, you forgot your oersonality.

He asks me why wonder,
You can know by a flick of the wrist,
By the bruise on the skin,
Sliding through the memory of memories.

Why wonder?
Because of the questions and the mist,
The uncertainty of holy and sin,
Finess bridging the simulation of falacy.

I love to wonder,
It tells me the story of a stranger,
It may not be true to all, but that is my wager,
It tells me the state of my soul, should I be in danger.

In a world where reality is fantasy,
Where living alive is the ultimate dream,
In the goal of surviving, fictional as it seems,
Where adults are children, having fun in an epic eternity.

.                     Echo Tolerated


            Repetitious behaviour in any

           form becomes a monotonous

           metronome, a mundane menu,

          a morose memory which keeps

                on returning to haunt us.


         Imagine being a pendulum is the

        best analogy, because a clock has

        no means of punctuating itself, it's

        a constant and why hypnotists use

        suspended watches to stymie time.


        The state of mesmerisation is no

          different to being transfixed or

          spellbound, sleep induction is a

        means of moment-ing the *****,

    consistence of an unchanging condition.


        The future is flawed, full of falacy

        a flat earth society concept with a

         precipice overlooking the depths

       of demise, the final flounder where

      the inevitability of anticipation ceases.


        On awakening from the illusion of

      the temporal there is but one option,

standing on the know ledge of awareness

overcoming vertigo, accepting that now is

a gift and this is why it is called the present.