The way that I know, you're knowing me.
Was the older me.
That old is over, see.
There's a few mistakes god needs to oversee.
I’ve done such bogus things.
I repent in the words of my poetry.
Refocusing.
The direction of a reflected
soulless me.
Misguided and couldn't hide it,
I wasn't fighting,
the vices holding me,
back
and whats sad is that these manic laughs,
as ecstatic as they come,
stem from the fact
that I'm feeling like crap
sad sap, too fast to play dumb
sad-sack ,
trapped rat
thats numb to the things that once would make me run.
Rock bottoms not a problem for my partna
who’s drug drama and habits are this fun.
These rhymes that I've designed inside my witty mind
redefine what is brand new.
The reflection of perfection,
the best is my profession,
and the rest belongs to you.
The professors teaching lessons,
of transgression in repressive,
unimpressive
back road routes
perspective is subjective but
effective in selection
and reflection of the truth.

Truth.

I am, I think, the last survivor of my kind. The arc ship had chosen the wrong sun for our new world. Or maybe it was the right one. Either way. A solar flair had destroyed us. By some fluke I was in my space suit on the far side of the ship doing a final exterior check of all system on what was supposed to be the eve of our landing day. Or maybe is wasn't supposed to be. Either way. I had seen everything around me engulfed in flames as I was accelerated away from everything I had ever known at impossible speeds smashed against the renforced rib of the hull that somehow protected me from the all consuming fire. I say it was a solar flare but I don't really know. It's just the best conclusion I can draw from the evidence given. And I have had lots of time to conteplate it. My space suit contains its own air scrubbing ecosystem that will provide me with a breathable atmosphere indefinitely and whos little bacteria happily march their dead into my stomach keeping me never full, but never malnourished nor starving. My species had only developed such overbuilt bioengineering after it was too late to save our drained and polluted home world, but we had it on the ship.

We were supposed to do better on the new world. Or maybe we weren't supposed to. Either way. I would lie against this chunk of wreckage and watch the hideously slow procession of the stars. As I hurtled through the universe, away from the nothing that remained from the nothing that I had know and towards new nothings that I had never seen before.

Either way, empty space is all the same and doing nothing is a drag even without the time dilation from the ungoddly speed one can attain when propelled by an angry star. It truely is a miracle that I am even alive. If you can call such a thing a miracle. Like I said, when taking to the heavens for our long journy, my people did it with sturdy stuff, but still, whatever force that hit us destroyed everything else. If anyone else did survive, their fate would be similar to my own and we would be getting further from one another by the moment, so it didn't really matter anyhow.

Before you ask, no, I couldn't just take off my helment. My people had instaled suicide prevention measures well before the launch. People tend to get depressed when confined to a ship, much less a spacesuit. My people knew this.

I prefered to lie with my face on the rib looking to my right. That way the left half of my vision was consummed by the dark mass of the rib as my right half, while mostly darkness contained a particularly bright star as well. By watching it inch toward the rib I was able to maintain some semblance of a sense of time passing. Then, one day, I saw a second light. I saw it wizzing pass and I could barely believe what my eyes told me it was. A shoulder mounted light on another space suit. And in it, I assumed, another person.  I hadn't moved since I had made it out of sight of the explosion. After what felt like days, it faded into the black that surrounded me, and I , resigned to my fate had laid down on the chunk of wreckadge and not moved since. But now, my body started up with a fire before my mind could even think to do next. I scrambled to the edge of the rib and I could see their light floating away from me. I hesitated for a moment. I have always been the type to hesitate even if my previous movement would suggest otherwise.

Then, I did it. I swung myself onto what had once been the interior side of the last souvenir from my ship. I planted my feet on it and I pushed with all my might. I demanded that my atrophied legs explode with all their remaining strength and then some. I pushed away from the last piece of everything i had ever known and pushed myself into the vast emptiness. The light seemed to slow in its escape, but it wouldn't be enough to catch it I knew. If I didn't do something immediatly I would spend the rest of my days watching it move further away from me.

I didn't have to do anything. A rocket propelled teather launched past me and again, with out though my body reached out and grabbed it. My mind realized that as soon as the teather ran out of slack, the tension would rip it from my grip, so I clamped it to my utility belt using the built in vice grip. It wouldn't let go for any force less than an exploding star. When the teather did run out of slack, the deceleration was so jarring that I thought it would break me.

The other creature and I fell into orbit with one another. The centripetal force created an artificial gravity. While the reintroduction of force upon my body pained me, feeling the grip of gravity against me was bliss, even if it was just an illusion.

And this is where you find me, spiraling in tandem through the universe with my companion. We are different species and share no means of communication. It is likely that we were born millenia apart, but time means little in our vacuous relm. We tried to pull ourselves closer together, but the increased rate of orbit made the endeavor sickening as well as exhausting. Though we had no language between us, we agreed that it was best we maintain our distance.

When you're alone in space, there is no point of refrence for movement and acceleration except ones self. As such, from my partners perspective it would have appeared that they stood still while I hurtled pass. But the truth is that they hurtled toward me and saved me from the broken prison of the rib. I don't mind them seeing it as such, but I smile in my knowing of the truth.

And so we tumble through the universe as close together as we can manage. Which is all one can really ask for anyhow.

.                       Hello there old friend,
                        how I've missed you.
No, don't try to talk sense
into me at this moment.
I know your advice is sound,
and you have good intentions,
but right now I don't need
to know the moral path.
I'm in need of a little more
soul sacrificing pleasure.
                       Hello there old friend,
                       how I've missed you.
                       Welcome back, I'm sure
                       we'll get reacquainted quickly.

Each morning I lie in bed and anticipate your arrival, my awakening, our escape
To the fair ground lights outside the city, and I dream that as we peak on the Ferris wheel,
And, with stars as our witness at this paramount moment, all of Texas comes into view.
Autumnal air ruffles your hair, and I'm reaching for you  like always with little gestures:
My smiles, your smirks, my laughs, and our quirks. Mingling at the summit,
A hand brushes slowly along a knee with the smooth reintroduction to an old friend.
Long fingers fumble with need, and it's just you and me distancing ourselves
From our every day studies in distraction, comforted in our mutual procrastination.
With you I catch  up on my anatomy and you excitedly review me in structures and railways.
On a train homeward bound, the heat of blood rising in your cheeks and lips
Sends an electric surge to my head and heart, and nerves tingle from anticipating home.
Under your tutelage, I soon appreciate the bridge of a nose finally unstressed by glasses,
The dynamic arches of a worn out back, and the strength of pillars erected in urgency
'Til daylight exposes last night's mysteries, and we rest in our ecstasy perspired,
Both of us finally relinquished from the weight of anticipation for this weekend to arrive.

I remember when I flew.

The freshly cut grass glued its self to my bare feet, the blades wanted to fly too.
I took off.

A powerful start, rocketed off the damp visage of Mother Earth.
She had great power, gravity, is what they called it.
They said more than kryptonite was needed to stop it.
Gravity, only defeated by breaking the laws of Newton.
I didn't want to break any laws (jail would not be fitting for this hero who needed to be back in time for lunch).

But I kept going, if birds can fly ( and knowing they have much smaller brains ) then I could figure out how too.
I kept going, until my toes kissed the leaves of the oak tree.
Each time I touched the tree time would freeze.
In that moment I watched the wisps of hair flow back and the shadows cross my face.

Soon I was over the trees, doing backflips and summersaults in the air.
I was floating on my back.
The sun warming my face.
The harmonic hum of far off lawnmowers singing in the distance.
I arched my back further and further ready for another backflip.

On my back looking up.
What happened?
I blinked.
A permanent scar on the hero's back.
Sit up.
WHAM
It hit me, the loss of flight, the loss of that reality
and the reintroduction of the other.
It was all gone Mother Nature won again.
A life long battle.
But I'll try to never forget,
I flew

Sparkling birdsong christens morning, noisy, but not annoying.
Bringing with them a sprinkling of  effervescent light , applauding the day.
An electric spark, chases dying night away.
Reintroduction a brand new day, the prize of life, a fizzing Friday.
(c) LIVVI

contorted mentality
wrapped in something soft
left for dead
in that little
green dumpster out back.
growth stunted by
that gentle smothering.
smothered with a pleasure
that was needed but
not given out of mutuality.
you’re enjoyment went
no deeper
than a short-lived purge
and that happy
reintroduction.
nothing more,
nothing less.

Loss. Of power and of possessions loss of precious people and of perfection loss of puberty and of innocence, loss of ideology and of ignorance loss of justice and of complacency. Loss Of Self.

Fear. Of forgiveness and of loathing of differences and of defiance fear of ignorance and of betrayals fear of existence and of existing. Fear Of Fear Itself.

Acceptance. Of others and of shortcomings and of greed and wealth acceptance of the truth behind the lies and of the knowledge we can't always change what we think is what's for the best acceptance of our highest self and to the vibrations of the universe that connects each one to another and another and another. Acceptance Of The Whole.

Surrender. To grace to beauty to transformation to love and to the upheaval of humanity Surrender to the unknown to the reuniting and the reintroduction to self Surrender to God and to unconditional LOVE
Surrender to awakening and to wholeness and to the perfection of imperfections. Surrender. To remember the freedom that so joyously filled your soul before you were given birth to this unconscious place called Life. Surrender To Become.

Have you ever felt so volatile
That you would beg God take your life Right here right now.
Struggling to stay postive but you just dont see how.
Life hits you with a Right hook, next a left hook, then shoots you 2 twice, pow pow.
Then you start Thinking to yourself, "Man Wow!"

As I look at my life I see nothing but shame and dishonor.
Father,
So many negative thoughts I Ponder
Then my mind begans to wonder.

Drowning in my own brain I became obstuct like i was sitting in the car, in the middle of a traffic jam, just stuck.
Down on my luck.
Fear and doubt would aggressively poke
And depression begun to grab me by my throat and I would violently choke.
In my tears i would soak because my wicked ways left me dead and broke.
I went astray, knowing that for my transgressions I would have to pay.
No matter what trials came my way.
I foughter harder and harder every day
So Finally I got on my kness confessingly  I begun to pray.
Because my Spiritual Corruption lead me on a path of destruction.
So my life had to be taken in an abduction So I could hear God clearly when he gave his reintroduction.
From then on, Living to serve God became my function.
The Father, The Son, And the Spirit and I became 1 supernatural junction.
Now Im a believer Under construction.

I've accepted the Conversion.
Because I Know he Exist For Certain.

Suddenly my life started changing.
Order took place as things started rearanging.
Like clay in the hands of a potter he started molding and shaping me.
Remaking me a version of authenticity!
I share his truth declaring it with audacity, as he helps me walk according to whom he has predestined me to be.
Like an athlete going through reconditioning
My spiritual man is quickening.
My soul begans to Awaken.
With each biblical reading I take in.
There is healing from within.
It so Intoxicating like a kiss to the skin.
Just being cleansed from sin leaves you feeling Invigorating.
Going through this modification Ive seen much alteration.
God has remove things with the process of elimination.
Just as a butterfly going through metamorphosis is lesson in grade school education so is a spiritual journey of Transformation.
I'm becoming believer In Formation!

a shadow crept in
quickly, quietly, unannounced
unwelcomed.
the signs were flushed
on the flesh of her face.
tiptoed, trying a hostile takeover.

Eureka! its presence is now known.
the dark vibratory notes tone
recognized.
diagnosis of dis-ease or disease,
regardless, the journey continues.

reborn to birth anew
You, will heal.
You, shine heal-her vibrations,
regardless, if all parties are on board!
its just your soul.
I've watched you from before
to the crown, now is Your time
to shine!
and let thy food be thy medicine,
hands are awaiting your embrace.
weak hearts are preparing for your tune up!
Child! You are health!

I anticipate a reintroduction
of sorts. though our souls
have been one from source.
our mothers and brothers and grandmothers
one pulse, one tune.
healing for the ages, healing of the sages.
we must stand up, just put our feet down!
rise, sister, rise.
neither victimized nor misunderstood,
You! oh You. I love you
I miss you. I'll see you soon...

2/26/2017

Prince Street, NYC

the bright white heaven of a
terrace chair
you touched my shoulder, you thought

i cringed
a longer pause—— i didnt
i tried to freeze the spring

in its tracks and dead as a doorknob
stopped decomposed and quiet forever
the summer then swelled

to a crescendo
i sweated out what was left of my
humanity in battery park city

my art used to be found in suffering
and yet i wrote no poetry that week on
wall street

there is no nobility in this,
the suffering art
i mean.

Anne sexton: I never seemed to like the
spring for what it was but for what it could've been.

Princetonian fields, mausoleums
foreign to me, a brief reintroduction in
January only to be murdered again

How tragic, this
did the Witherspoon spring
the Nassau nights

mean nothing?
I revel in the past's
futility

Saturated porcelain seats covered in undefeated liquids leave an acidic wear to the atmosphere.
Indescribable desires proclaim in an ever-changing disposition,
   The irrelevance of an ever-changing mood.
An uncertain strangeness dwells between my bones causing a one day to the next vagary of actions.
A daily reintroduction of myself to myself,
       like the front line hasn't been brimming over in occult chemical combination.
Inclination of the decline leads a battle of stabilization,
    a pang steams into a medial lunge hunching the body over in disrepair.
Convulsing through the morning,
     the fever heats its casing in a chronic complacency.