No, it's not voices that I hear

There are no muttering whispers of
hate or fear or sadness, guilt or regret
fluttering into my ears (yet)
- as romantic as that may have sounded
to you

I am not ignorant
to the fact that my restless habits
draw attention to me
with drawn conclusions
...and you
outdrew me

Sadly
there are more than walls that drift into
my line of sight
to my chagrin I find myself spied by those
with more curiosity than any sane person knows

(There is some overbearing self-entitlement
that accompanies the search for
a sign of light
in the face of another)

When I make eye contact, it is simply to feel grounded in reality
and I bet I project this desperation unwaveringly
when my eyes flicker briefly toward those of a stranger

They may sense something mysterious in my shiftiness, though I do not suffer
from the ennui that great artists
are compelled to quell
with narcotics

Nevertheless
folks wonder what my great art could be
what I am in touch with
that renders me unable to be at peace
with the world, as they are

So far I am no great artist
- narcotics would thus drive me further from peace -
instead I'm a poor scientist
synthesizing faulty chemicals

All these molecules my body loves to make
keep me scanning the surroundings
I hurl my horrible hormones at
obsessively

This alone causes me little grief
I've learned to I live with it - in my own way
I've grown detail-oriented, though so have noticed where some issues develop

The real problem arises in that unlike other harmless strangers
with their pleasant perfumes and caring colognes
the charmless hormones I assault the world with are compromised
like all of my chemicals
which (like you) have come to be this way
simply by my being alive

So along comes a compassionate soul
glimpsed through the eyes of a passionate fool
wishing to uncover what bothers me
to discover a potential lover
or to learn what leaves me turning
from them

Some end up pursuing a friendship
or become determined to prompt a long stare
for the deep longing that should come with it
brave the frigid winter or save this timid author?

Not wishing to hurt or offend them
I spend time in their company
yet fail at the delivery
of what should have been progress toward
shared shivering feelings
experiences with meaning

They leave me, seething

No, I hear less and less voices
it's a wordless taunting that haunts me

It's the sound of someone behind me shuffling into a jacket
as if we have just caught up over coffee and said all we could

If I turn toward the sound, it's gone
there is nothing there
and if I don't, I hear the wretched entirety of it

Arm into sleeve
jacket over shoulders
across the back and
the next arm slides in
Zip, snap
That's that

I've felt compelled to face the departing presence for so long
as if to clear my throat and acknowledge or protest its inevitable departure
but it leaves anyway
(...you did)

Where does the first
breath go?
Does it stream out of
a hospital window,
heralding a being
that's begun again?
Or does it hover
unwaveringly at the
very spot of exhalation?
It's the same air that was
the breath in the lungs
of those present
in the hospital room
prior to your birth.
As it became the breath
of untold lungs henceforth...
it was just that it passed
in your lungs at the moment
of birth.
As it will pass out of your lungs
at the moment of death...
where indeed does breath
go?
Wherever it is needed to
sustain life...it is life
that breathes irrespective
of name.

Call me a pacifist activist deploring insanity of war,
never a Fitbit moon-unit soldier of military industrial
complex, this articulate baby boomer verily stupefied,
openmouthed, dumbfounded at inane ill logic to send
best and brightest, or even those boasting commend

able faculties of body, mind, and spirit (tracing a long
jagged genealogical line harkening millenniums 'pon
fighting for king crimson ransom (demarcating advent
of civilization aggregating en mass), and subsequent
dawn of internecine killing fields.

*************
Dictators topple puppet regimes wobbling
viz falling dominoes crumbling tombstones
roaming contemporary caesars fiddle
Nero foo fighters kindle burning desire

donned gawd father issues hut two, three, four...
tramping grapes of wrath
lady liberty fruited plain laid waste,
*****, pillaged defrocked

inalienable rights: pursuit of happiness
life, liberty sabotaged
dough bro’s rank and file grunts
groom thinly veil unbridled guise

coup d'etat usurp democracy
constitution left in tatters
scattershot blitzkrieg genocide scored
martial fife and corporeal
contraband taps out air

key up magnificently arrayed
highland manor soldiers
bouzouki plucking
troubadour looting accompanies
autocratic regime firebrand

dons singular purpose
affixes emergency legislation suspended
emergency moratorium stifles government
abrogates presidential elections

sanctioned covenants blithely overthrown
social media linkedin commoners coalescence
jackbooted oppressive thugs click heels
protestation meted with truncheon

tear gas canisters, pistol whip, pepper sprayed
defiant demonstrators fold
resurgent subsequent twittering uber vent
facebook, instagram, snapchat recruit

communal cascade brave combat gear
buttressed fighting force feckless fealty
(take knee) pledge allegiance furnish salvo
civilian guerillas unexpected tea and sympathy

reinforcements salvo nsync with lockstep march
coup d'etat spontaneous mission
unite dead reckoning sites unwaveringly
"FAKE" feint obeisance

flaunts commander in chief
freedom fighters fabricate "witch hunt"
megaphone blares while POTUS
perfumed, manicured, coiffed
particularly pleased popinjay puzzled

barreling madding crowd spurs surrender
presidential incumbency abridged
ousted apprenticed commander in chief
imprisoned under house arrest.

Saturday, April 4th, 2020

“I hang my head from sorrow, the state of humanity,” sang the Sapient Songbird. Amid surging torrents, the serpentine blights of the human condition, there are spasmodic glimpses of hope. Listen unwaveringly to the voice within as you take an opportunity to confront your sufferings. Self-sovereignty can naught be acquired without introspection.  

What is the essence of the diadem of ascendency? Is it reason & rhyme operative, reverberating upon the wavelength of the sublime? Perhaps, forsooth, it’s law, edict, spawned to envelop all within the delicate balance of governance?  

Boundless freedom canst naught be apart from precept. True manumission is obtained within the analogical perimeter of law. Therefore, rulings & revelations only serve to banish evil, virtue always remaineth unbound. Paradoxically, the soul procures boundless freedom through willful obedience to precepts of the same Progenitorial One by whom we stand.  

Submission is ne’er captivity lest we forget the benison of willful surrender. Moreover, obedience heralds further effloresce in the Light of the Empyrean One, the Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love, Jah.  

Law is not fetter, nor is its absence liberty thereof, but pandemonium. Whence we gaze betwixt lines and letters of the law, we find the Element of Freedom; we find equity; we see in ourselves and others inherent depth, height, width, and breadth of moral character. Yes, even in regulation, the captive is unfettered; the wraith becometh revenant; the vexed soul, is lifted. Consequently, the ultimate law through which the liberation is acquired is the Law of Christ: Love.  

Sometimes I wonder upon the meaning of this life. Where do we find intemerate justice as an existential commonality? Whence shall armistice seize the Hands of Warfare that bruise Terraqueous Mother Earth’s Gaian epidermis? Whence shall every anima know the limitlessness of love? Terrene-scale answers are not mine to behold, nor ascertain, nor fathom.  

I must do all I can to metamorphose as a Kantian phenomenon, a Universal Force. Only when a heart teeming with love takes action, that it emancipates itself & others. Love is Nirvana.  

Each day that passes bringeth more discernment, more understanding, more knowledge, more wisdom. Moreover, I acquire greater “...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness, self-control...” with the passing of consolidated aeons. (Galatians 5: 22, 23) The spirit flows abundantly through in & throughout: it guides each one of us into the infinitude of virtue: love, wisdom, justice, power. All excellency, all grace, and all formosity, are found in Jah. Se’ lah.