stand(ing) here alone in the dark
like a head of tack pirouetting away
  to no music - only acrid scruple
    of this being with and not being with,
     one is always alone.

  space occupies the potteries in
  the garden as a steady arm of light
  stills in its mouth, a flowering dark.
  it is only 3 o'clock in the morning
   and the heat clambers the wall of
   the vacuously atrabilious moment
  of just plainly existing. the slender
  harlequin of moon, like an old lover
  having its own way with me, a child's
  yelp coming home — the hermetic
  air crushing the light, slivering it
  revealing all the ensconced phantasms
  too commonplace like a fork in the road
that i know, or the wayward metropolitan
  that teems with a concatenation of roads
  and gutters bilious with the squall of day.

  a figure moves entering a warm miasma,
   receiving the star of aloneness,
    vacillating between
  place and         placelessness
   telling this originary of repossessing
       the moon with a hand in my hand,
   pressing a question of where
    have you been all the raging while.

take me away from this journey
i am trapped in the land of placelessness

blind / hypnotized
route 36 / bolivia
deaf / treated with ultrasound
simultaneously

scarcely knowing
what all that means

i am feeling the rising of blood
a wave of heat like sandstorms

inevitability: willful / knowing / aware

i am putting myself at risk of dying
long ago i read about the risks and consequences
of my ******* abuse
pervaded them intellectually while

my heart remains deafly because
of *******
bitter
sear
aflutter and in panic

there is just:

one life
one heart
one body one man

man what are you doing?!?!
i am hollering into my inner
embracing the envelope
obsessed over bitterness
numb love
in the dungeon of plotted heavens
lofty as never before
is where i am running away from:
every day

in the 1920s there was a man
who they called "koks-emil"
he sold ******* in the nightstreets of berlin

the national archive has been keeping
a picture of him doing business with
two girls out of gangland we
can't see the face of the one standing left only  
her back

however her companion typifies precisely
what the drug creates in our souls:
a form that can not be imitated
like the effect of the drug

a form of longing and greed in the
girl's face

longing and greed
balancing each other
not one of
these states predominates

while beholding the girl i am becoming
horridly conscious
about myself
horridly about

my relationship with *******
my affair with *******
my love to ******* this
sounds sick?
indeed it is

we call it
suffering from an addiction

we call it
suffering from a dependency

become clean.
i wish you willpower
wish you strong luck
wish you peace at last

the rate of relapsing
******* users is vast
during the night

when the wind is
breezing mildly

when the stones of the cities
are breathing out the heat of the day

while you are
sneaking over the streets

while every street corner resembles
the very one where
koks-emil used to sell his product

while you are sensing the smell
of bitterness

while you are being preoccupied with
her face: her longing her greed

while you are experiencing
yourself:

more deeply
more soberly
and more knowingly
as before

while you
are reaching out your hands searching
with kidfingers for koks-emil

the guy with the warped corner of the mouth
the reliable / greedy one

the one who is always ready

a salesman has to be available for
every second of your longing
every second of your greed

koks-emil: your world is made of black and white
your hat is grey its bonnet is vanishing as your
shivering hands

hands that spread capsules
hands that grap at bills
hands that you use to brush away your sweat

**** between the lipps
shabby coat

koks-emil your spirit
blows through inner cities like gas fumes
a grin on your face coming from
lurid lights

you became immortal
you underwent rapid decades
you were an addict
you created addicts
you served addicts

the ****** expression of the girl
your child-like customer
remains for

all for everybody with a
*******-addiction

for all and for everybody
who depends on *******

for all and everybody
who is clean from *******

for all and everybody:
longing and greed

rest in peace girl

dwelling in a bathtub full of ember
skin, transparent like a plastic raincoat
max' core is a cage, his mouth like a cave
tags are scratched into his hands

he is walking over liquid letters, since
doctors replaced his blood with milk
cats are drinking from his open wounds
max is asking the mirror:

who could i be?
who do i want to be?
what will i become?
who am i now?

his memories are windows
the head is mutating, it will explode
thoughts are gobbling thoughts
wishes **** other wishes

the young max longed to be old
the old max wants to be young
a life, hidden in a purple casket
secrets drive each of his moves

addicted to the white magic of death
self-destructive, not trustworthy
he exchanged his kids against trance
sirens are singing songs of oblivion

take him away from this journey
trapped is he in placelessness
he became the thing he dreaded
nightmares are haunting his dignity

will his actions turn into an epitaph?
a funeral, under the heaven of his skin

The reality
of who we are resides
in this word..
It may seem as loneliness
an ungrounding of roots
frightening perhaps..
Or an unchaining from the
hold of a place
a dislodging into a
space-like fullness
a non-local experience
of real freedom...

Oh, how it were!
Cutting a swath, a blank,
A stone resting on-chest; shadows dark on the wall
The hum of outside, of red windows.

I felt my heart pat like a rabbit’s,
A deep blue pulse inside me, but not mine,
A levitation, a placelessness:
I was Me, but only in the sense of the flesh.
I inhabited my body, but not my Self.

How useless are fingernails
When they are the only way out!
Claws shrunken and softened-down,
To scratch, to draw a single bead
Of cherry-red blood: for I did not hurt,
Could only push.

I awoke and my thumb was red
And my arm counted thirty-three
(Soon to be more).
A child, chewing her way out,
Hushed, hushed, pushed back into sleep,
Consciousness-gone-black.

Were I there, now.
That was not Me. I think.

the cold light of day reigns:
concrete, metal, glass, towers
the "system" turns humans into numbers
new york city is full of giant rats

pregnant with the outflow of frustration
in the moonlight, their teeth twinkle
bloodred maws, spiky fur, darkgrey
i don't want to become a rat

"you gotta keep a sense of human"
a quote by earl simmons, a.k.a. dmx
lord, gimme shelter, gimme strength
bornheim, germany, yonckers, usa

regardless where we are; who we be
this line hugs my son nicholas,
and i do love eden, my daughter
THEY ARE LIFE. THEY KEEP A SENSE OF HUMAN.

i'm max, and i'm not trapped in placelessness
gotta stay clean, will meet my kids again
trance is not life, it's the aberration of escape
my weakness is my strength, i got it in me

like a greenly glowing marble of hope  
drugs don't change the world, but you
as i was laying in a puddle of sweat,
i prayed to god: "pleeeease let me live"

couldn't breathe for a moment, fear of death
the addiction for the trance brought me there
i gotta keep a sense of human; for myself
i gotta keep a sense of human; for my kids

I am
the balance point
at the center of
a vast universe—
whooping with complexity
and groaning with emptiness.
And how absurd to see me
standing there,
powerless in an excess of power—
my only fulcrum
within me as I take a deep breath
and whisper, implore, reason, soothe
the great, uneven immensities
to be calmed,

and I dissolve my consciousness
into placelessness
so that I may place myself at the center of each
zone of complexity, each expanse of emptiness,
and center each millimeter within itself,
so that all this universe is a universe of balance,
continuously shifting yet continuously balanced,
her foot in absolute certainty on the path,
her body all containing,
the void her nourishing heart,

the enormity neither ordinary,
nor frightening,
nor any one thing,
but to see the consciousness in formlessness—
looking back at me—
all creating,
(and yet created, reflecting,) and yet
giving me
such power.

take me away from this journey
i am trapped in the land of placelessness

blind / hypnotized
route 36 / bolivia
deaf / treated with ultrasound
simultaneously

scarcely knowing what all that means
like a child who isn't listening to anyone

i am feeling the rising of blood
a wave of heat like sandstorms

inevitability: willful / knowing / aware

i am putting myself at risk of dying
long ago i read about the risks and consequences
of my drug abuse
pervaded them intellectually while

my heart remains deafly because
of narcotics
bitter, sear, aflutter and in panic

there is just:

one life
one heart
one body one man

man what are you doing?!?!
i am hollering into my inner
embracing the envelope
obsessed over bitterness
numb love

in the dungeon of plotted heavens
lofty as never before
is where i am running away from:
every day

* * *

the rate of relapsing
drug users is vast
during the night

when the wind is
breezing mildly

when the stones of the cities
are breathing out the heat of the day

while you are
sneaking over the streets

while you are sensing the smell
of bitterness

while you are experiencing
yourself:

more deeply
more cleanly
and more knowingly
as before

long ago
the dead would drink
from a certain river to forget
their mortal lives

shades and silent voices
populated blank shores
as the dead patiently
waited to forget

their memories vanished into
thin air
yellow heavens
sparkling bits of color
would lighten up
the dark lights of day

shadows scurried from place
to placelessness
voices sighed and you couldn't
tell if it was the sound of last breaths

within the realm of
trust and mistrust

placelesness
addiciton
rivers of dust
real storys
and fiction

don't get me wrong
i won't be talking long
it's just something else
this world of codes

weak words are spread
it's like butter on bread
it's like longing for fat

don't get me wrong
i won't be talking long
daddy told me: stay strong

but i'm trapped in the land of
placelessness  

get me some rest
get me some rest
get me get me get me
some rest

==========================================================
In the core of my Soul
I live in the placelessness of the place

That is unchangeable,
Unbreakable, unseen and untouched

And I long for your
Endlessly, Eternally, Enduring
Affinity of infinity
Abiding the Tenable,
Durable and deathless
Being the whole part
Of Time and Space

Carefree, everlasting and perpetual youth
In never languishing place less of the place

Like a roamer roaming in the floating shade
Tracing that traceless roots of the rootless

Like migrating bird of passage
Bathing in the melting snowflakes

There my heart and my soul dip in
Streaming symphony of your soul

Awakening in the sleeping night
Forgetting ignorant sleep
Relaxing in your Enlightened lap

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~