To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Let me explain.
This poem is about sleeping, dreaming,
the failure of my inadequacies in poetry to heal.

Three years after its birth, it is exactly what I am feeling this day.
It is long rambling and you won't stay for the whole movie.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erudition is perdition,
dreaming in words, accursed,
death to the visionaries,
release from visitations
of over-staying, unwelcome guests,
Johnny Cash, Jesus,
Forefather Jacob, Bobby Dylan
and their whiny,
smug-smiled missives
on behalf of the
all knowing, dream invader powers,
who
just-happens-to-be-know-it-alls.

These guys,
sub rosa angels,
electioneering,
hand shaking  
you into dreams
that make you wonder              
unceasingly  

I have renounced chants n'
dreams that
wander                              
meaninglessly

so if there is no
repeal of the stupification
of the human condition,
just invent words that  fool
willful and mostly please
nobody

don't ask and don't tell,
then we can agree
that a life,
its peculiar
Hallmark Card of grief,
cannot be
disambiguated

yours is yours,
different from mine,
single poems cannot solve
multivariate equations,  
un-blow mind sensations
that circumnavigate my mind    
as I edge along the
borderline tween the
United States of self-realization,
and a State of Mexico
drug-induced, seductive and
self-administered pat down,
a colorless, tasteless, dreamless
evening in the company of
a rest-once-and-for-all,
sleeping pill

Repudiate yourself,  
privately you
hyperventilate,
but others willing to borrow
those surfeit of rapid
misunderstood breathes,
stored in brown paper bags,
that will be divided
most ingeniously by the
Misappropriation Committee
for wordy oxygen tanks,
desperate for refilling

Recant, Renege,
Renounce, Repeal,
Repudiate, Retract,
I herby foreswear
all previous poems, please
Return them

Back, send them,
so, I can end them,
desist any new arrival of vaniloquence,
direct 'em to  the trash box of inconsequence

My wrongful w-rightings
are now cashiered,
my cool is in mourning,
my plateau is flat but
upsided downded,
words drownded,
both sides now, spring silent

Tried to swim to safety,
to Spanish Harlem
but no hablo espanol,

In Miami, they done me in
for the crime of
insufficiently thin,

In Ghiradelli Square
they deemed me too blond
not 'ciscan enough
yet, in Frisco fairness,  
done deported me,
making me to choose
tween Los Angeles and/or
Orange County

So, poet poseur, where you gonna run too?

My better half sleeps,
my left half weeps,
so conditions normal.

Satan laughs,
offers me ***** or poetry,
knowing full well that having
foresworn, addictive wordmongering, liscentiousness
that a single letter
would stupor me into a
drunken poetry slam at
St. Paul's Church,
into Satan's collection box
of wordy sinners,
where lost souls, ex-poets,
prevaricate
vainly, in hopes
that anyone will let them
transubstantiate
in order to avoid their
expiration date
on Stub Hub

surrendered the master key,
turned in my ID badge,
opened inner sanctum no more,
poetry boy is ratiocinated,
peril dispatched, swear that I've
excommunicated the voices
determined to disintermediate

the compromise I've reached,
help is contraindicated,
ex-officio is my new grace state

please, devices decontaminate,
otherwise, poems disintegrate,
excoriate them, don't wait,
to disassociate'em, insufficient,
remove them from hard drives,
yank'em one and all!

let the diet begin,
no more food for thought,
no more dreams
wrought and recorded,
permit the ambient calm
of the still of the night
that engulfs,
to harmonize with the flatline
dreamless sleep that the
mind monitor machine
etchingly, quietly records

let hours of research
be rewarded,
by my imbibing the product of
laboratory pharmacological
fine tuning

***** S.,
what outrageous ego
let me suppose that in
mine own words,
I could improve upon
your lovelies,
with now bland homilies,
recitations of my anomalies

What id sexed my brain,
was I completely insane,
to imagine that I could
improve upon:

"and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the
thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,
'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream:
ay, there's the rub"

Finished: Nov 27, 2010 4:44 AM

Talk to me about indifference
Can anyone define it? Who defines ?
It’s a word we should understand clearly and fluently
Why? Well…Why not?
Because as humans, indifference is valued
Prized even
Genocide in Africa? I’m indifferent
Pity…
Poverty in our country? I’m indifferent
Pity…
Indifferent it is a word we should use so much more than we do
Indifferent to the screaming of my next door neighbours wife
Pity           …
OH Indifferent!  INDIFFERENT to the hallowed call of a child at the 6 o’clock news with a swollen belly and flies in his eyes
PITTY!
Indifferent to the passions of a man foresworn to his pride and under the influence refuses to admit to his shame!
BY GODS IM A ROBOT
Remove my emotional hardware its malfunctioning strip me of my programs their not the normal
Remove my speech circuitry I’ve been lying…
This hole time I swore closeness and collaboration..
Ideals you all share, seeing pain, listing to the agonising news off a car bomb in Syria! 118 dead! Thank god ill never meet them!
Did I know them? No? ! Well ill share a moment of agony and grief and then continue to buy slave made products and feed my mechanicals beasts with petroleum stolen from foreign lands !
I AM A ROBOT AND YOU ARE TO
Devour my heart it no longer beats, my eyes are desensitized, my spirit aghast at the agony of existing,
The high price of living I was told,
Stand fast and ready your ears like a galleon with no sails and receive the news of your defeat , or would you rather not be there to hear it?
It’s time to listen to the high price,
Social media seems to have developed unto me a craze for the worst ! ive liked pages that post videos of people killing themselves death fascinates me!
I have all of my needs catered for,  
have sources of entertainment
I have a job that allows me  to pillage part of the earth for my enjoyment
I have food that sustains me  and a group of robots that  I call friends, we share the same software  I can relate to them  via USB
And thus the only thing that excites me…that gets me going, that shakes my distraught existence is the thought of..not.
Of not existing
Indifferent..
Endure the agony of hearing that our own… brothers and sisters in humanity where killed,
Beings we share the same DNA for and beings we by some estranged number of generations are related to
Pretend to care for a moment
Indifference,
Watch my world ware thin
Watch my skin grow pale
Watch my organs fail
Indifferent.
Watch cancer take my loved ones
Watch fear destroy my hope
Alone I stand indifferent


Take me to emotion

This is not the way I was designed
The dull thud in my chest is not of rifle fire
Nor is it requisition of my life force of some higher being calling me home
No
It is the device that fights my indifference
It is the vessel that commands my soul to walk on broken glass
The dull thud It is the idea that in ideas we will never die , only grow as humans, within humanity
The dull thud ringing through my chest quickens  when I see you,
The dull thud dies down when I grow cold
It is not the pilot aimlessly guiding me through coordinates listed on a fact sheet like a tour guide
But it is the engine that drives me to aspire to be more, the location from witch I draw force, power,
I do not want to be a robot...  I never asked to be made of steel nor carbon nor sparks
An emotionless vessel to power through indignity and anxiety without a notion to an outsider,
Without consideration to feel
Without consideration to feel alive But sick…steel skin does not get ill without strain,
Steel skin does not grow pale or wither with age
The computer in my head will not fade with time
And my heart has never once stopped
I am not of robotics
I am not of steel
I am merely…
human
And I
Am not
Indifferent!
Scream to me the agony! AGH!  Genocide in Africa?  I will denounce myself to humanitarian work!
I will design my life to bring happiness and joy and inspiration to the masses! I will re-write the ground on which I stand in favour of my own desires!
Poverty in my country?! I will rise to be what is needed! And fall to be humbled!  I will writhe with angst until the government I serve hears my cries and writhes also! To change those laws written in stone and redefine what it is to be human! I will cry for every child living like a dog under the stars, under-influence and angry, because I am angry to!
The cries of my neighbor will be brought to append in front of a judge my community will whale together in her agony and burst forth with our love! we will provide! We will carry her down the streets and sing her name she is not a beaten dog but a queen of queens! As we deserve it!
I AM NOT INDIFFERENT
I am not of the programming I was designed,
Nor am I to append the functions I was written for
I am an arm that writes itself hole as it continues down the page..
I am not of machine
I am not guided by that actions of others
But I am the wholeness of myself
Though fractured I am pure,
Though ***** I am clean
Though broken I am definitively joyful.
I am not indifferent, and I will forever refuse to be so
Because if you take away my indifference…you bring me back
You will bring me back…to my humanity,

*L.G

I spied a mighty albatross
Blue-eyed as coral stone
With heavenly wings borne like a cross
Adrift aloft alone
A speckled snow-capped mountain crown
Adorned the canopy
Upon her white quill-feathered gown
Explorer of the sea

No wonderland of wintry ice
Has thawed unto her touch
Nor sand-annointed paradise
Played harbour to her clutch
The shimmered sun and shadowed moon
Are beacons born to be
Her rooftop lights through livelong flights
Explorer of the sea

What maid foresworn to solitude
And shackled by her chains
Has tasted of a servitude
And dreamt not of the reins?
Imprisoned thus each land-lorn day
By neither lock nor key
How must your beaten heart dismay
Explorer of the sea?

As time the drifter slinks away
Upon an ebbing tide
I watch you fade from dusk-lit grey
To night’s eternal void
And left bereft and to atone
The deepest sins of me
I wonder who is more alone
Explorer of the sea?

Incantation
Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed
There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying
Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed
First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo

He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth
An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar
One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth
This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they

Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise
Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender
The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise
Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor

Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding
It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning
There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding
One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo

Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night

Wake up from a dream
To find yourself alone
Sat in a bed
In a place that you call home
Yet home is not a building, a shelter or a hive
Home is were you should feel safe, warm and alive
They say home is where the heart is
And my heart it lives with you
They say home is where the heart is
And I speak these words true
Home is where I lay my hat, my shoes, my coat, my head
Home is not really all that
Just a roof, walls and a bed
Without the warmth of another my house would just sit bare
A sturdy structure with no-one to care
So sturdy becomes stable, then stable to forlorn
Deserted and derelict
Until another is foresworn
Foresworn into the structure
The structure of my house
The structure of my life
And what I’m about
With the warmth of another it is derelict no more
It begins a decoration, a restoration, a change
A change for the better
The better of my heart
The change for one other and the chance for
A life to start.

At danu's spring, he licked his wings, and prepped his mind to soar,
but foresworn maid, with lowly heart he bade, goodye forevermore.
What wrath had she? She turned her cheek. No bitterness to behold.
He sought only luxury, she cared only for her sheep - thus love, it's cards did fold.

Soldiers trying to escape the fire of my passion
unequipped,they are all gone.
King lost with a face of horror,
I have almost retreated.

It is foresworn
that the enemy will seat on the throne.
As he is about to abandon his crown by force,
he listens to the sweet melodic sound of might.
His soldiers may be walking towards Hades
but he decides to stand tall
and he starts  a new killing spree.

When I think my heart,my castle shall go on
my precious beam of hope  falls to the ground.
My marvellous king lies still next to my beaten dreams.

Oh foolish king,
had you allowed me to fight too,
a worn out castle would not not be now burning
in the hands of your rage.

His high intellect was a whip and a chair to keep the lion of your growing independence at bay.
Cowering child,
You roared your defiance against proud deaf ears.
Now a beast grown with a pride of your own,
Your let sound your growl,
Your angry howl,
But within that defiant song can be heard the whimper of the cub that just wanted to be heard.
Stop it.
Listen and speak softly for your voice carries and is heard.
You are not your father.
You are your own man.

Two strangers exchange eternal vows. Neither lovers yet fully born.
You were more a stranger to yourself than to her.
In you she sees a mirror spirit,
More lost than found,
Lacking an identity to call your own. Her passion, a hot storm built after a lifetime of suppression,
Is released by another man.
In this and in him she begins to find herself.
You think you lost her, yet she was never yours.
Oaths sworn by the wraiths of the beings you were yet to become are not considered binding by any council of lovers,
Lost or foresworn.
You are not her husband.
You'll place your ring on another hand.

Your eyes swore to possess her as her faery beauty woke within you the imp of desire.
Fey creatures know there's magic in *******.
Her every whispered breath was poetry as you pressed your stiff need against her back.
There was honesty between you even as you lied to yourselves,
Just one more kiss, another **** another glass of wine.
No amount of pleasure could bury the wrong.
It was not your lips she kissed goodnight,
Nor your smile which greeted her in the morn.
You were her paramour,
Her poet,
Her escape from another man.
She belongs to another man.

(20 minute poetry)

I am not on the short list and now
I lust for what I've missed
and boy am I really ******
off.

I see the colour if reality is red and
like the rag to the bull
I'd like to pull that list apart.

But my realism is pacifism
I have foresworn the tearing of limbs and the breaking of heads, steadfast in this conviction I'd still like to **** them and that's a contradiction in terms.

Okay
So they passed me by on the list, I
don't know why,
I should be the certainty for the first prize and universally applause would surely follow.

Well **** them tomorrow I'll go all inverted get me converted to a new type of..
...can one of you borrow me a pen?
I must have this in writing,
Oh yes,
Mother says biting my tongue and holding my breath is better the devil than scribing my own death certificate.

I bet the list is a fix,
see who ***** who and who's in the mix,
I picks my own friends,
**** it

backwater Ophelias

clamp down on flinting

ice.

her first blanched splash

floats the many more

of her.

foresworn shockproof

flowers blush her head,

as they do her toe.

bitter murk cross-eyed...

following along.

still.

Let's not pin down WHY I've cherished rain and somber oboe concertos, shall we?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXCV)


There are ne puddles, just that drooling trail
Left by the gutter's mouth as I look hence
For any small detail to augur thence
E'en half a note of whither in this pale
Eye of forgotten dawn, moist on that scale
With fragile rain.  Naught quivers in suspense,
No, not my soul now either.  All fr'intents
Is quite foresworn as I feign what, t'avail?
If nonchalance is pretty, let's bestir
It to cavort across the stage anew.
I'd feign lose me to rain's soft calm as twere,
Yea, fly away upon those wings we knew
By instinct, though we could not see them, poor
As saying.  No sparrow calls, and what would woo?

21Mar19a

the competition starts as you're born
its championship's not foresworn,
the gun is fired on very first morn
the finish-line reached as others mourn

on the way you'll find much to nettle
there to prove your grit 'n mettle
if moral compass's in fine fettle
you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal

if you fall on the way, help is at hand,
that too is innate, divinely planned,
it's human nature, you'll understand,
just keep on, maintain your stand

as best can be, that's all that's required,
try not to look if you're being admired,
do as your soul is heavenly inspired,
until you're tired, all strength retired

then soul ascends with all it's acquired,
the bruises of life, as medals, attired,
and as the spirit is gently expired,
G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.

Something resists understanding
The early exit of a friend.
I do believe in accidents,
The unpopular opinions
Of poets, children and lost dogs,
Finding anything but false hope
A good reason to continue,
Without the promise of success.
Her beautiful smile and the dog
She loved gave up life together.
Now you and I sleep fitfully,
Foresworn to secret shatterings.
No use to speak of mercy, God's
Own grim partner rakes the land.

Yesterday, was my kindness
A sociable drink, a meaning to rises
And falls of when, wishes find themselves to bless
A handsome yoke, that begat forces before what despises...

A gracious thank you, a meant glance at what was
A stolen kiss, to deify the keeping and guarantee we avow
A stir of repose, that has the romance of decency, for one more thus
A salient and beaming hello, that selects vice over the common how

Is it me, or did I just try to **** you?
Places and passion at last, the towering of a giant
That has the cough of decision for a neglect, but has seen life due
With a role of seasons and care in a charismatic divorce, of silence

Waiting for your answer...
Seldom, was its foil, if not toying of apprehension
Taken to avarice, like a child with moments to become a unique person...
I see the common route to your favor, the tale of forces that made certainty...

Baring the cold, the angel of unity for a privilege and its means
Will a worldly stare at you, given us, to hand a gift of insight
If, the lucre of dispossession, in our forthright chemistry, is a glean
Of shouldering the simplicity of the reach of a new chaste, well within our right's?

A brass lantern, a soldier of tenacity that has bespoken years
Still the irony we sold to a God, that has a liberty of all in mind
With the voice of causes, condition foresworn, to be a soul that hears
A rational world known for reasons of a callous source, to what asks, "is a light surmising you to be a shadowed kindness?"

When young, looking at your old/ self, wondering if a group of people going to buy an expensive car is really a trigger for the cartoon pellet shot put
Reservations about the monkey world unwanting the/ self to live
No stuffed errant kaleidoscope images- considering/ self from lord to shepherd.. and back to able,
can't be a denial makes sense
The stellar sock hop mocked you like the very rogue elements you use to think of them- talking can lead to boiling so the blank revolution starts with no need to get a rush or a speed rush at a crazy admittance -ward or.. even though herald/ of sigil,
The same aspect- it's lets pretend enough to allow the imaginal realization
to insult the equality of standing still/ as a confusing identity switch, with a rose, a name and a major ****** oh and because I’m the best I don't/ then we've returned/ obvious enough- just leave
So on a dime, the good and chains of hope, as well, have a reasonable 'attack' but in the way is the brazen consecration of whatsoever.. may be.. -that 'what are you doing with them'
Bat at what gifts for the self?.. From the king to the keeled over flight of antiquity and a metal society grinding at their date such as the guy and girl social's not business, mind you, so for sins of an avatar I have only a little pay, maybe some plastic a riddle perhaps in 'pan' can solo in confusion against the notion in that way
Foresworn that what wrestles with funny words to feel clean- actually- it’s more of a frying civil valley of shuffled together shows of banter smith reform/ on a morning mayhem/ dusted by the hold the glory has over their selves. Now on to that which one might believe..
Ah haaaa!.. ah haha!! .. should I know that finally simple reality begins now?!Maybe...but I'm not being double teamed by demons/ though we're a greater simplex which needed to explain(ie: hitherto/prey subsequently) any person might be found/ crying
To think of committees, oh how! So foxy the goats... and too fast to know of dives ,mead, ale, ***** and french fries and the source that made me refer to that
Sorry if you've listened to me box with ambiguity, however shiver or numb and calamity of sycophants standby to know the itinerate.. .. ..the cat chased the rat and back with that and it's simply the story of the daily show. you know.