Fever clutched down
grasp again and I'll make it
furtive glance around
I shiver

You have, dead grey surface pores that gasp and pull
we try to breathe through, but you **** in and control
all the while radiating that fever feeling
of a surface wide fever-catch reality
that awful feeling
all for the sake of continued neutrality

I yell, but you take it

a clamorous reduced warbling of my own voice drawn into grey gasping caverns
you see nothing with that pockmarked visage, but I've still one good eye
I'm blind as any fool but I can fake it
screeching truth through bland ciphers
dreaming on and on
it won't be long till I break it

You've still got some sort of hold on me,
but you know I'll make it.

Sweet owl!
Flown to me
right inside my eyes
I can't ****** anymore
but I say I'd love to bleed you dry

This knowledge is astounding
I could just cry or try at least

I've let out a moonlight sigh
these furtive festering dreams inside
right between my eyes
but the owl is in my pocket
so lets peel apart my eyes

and even though I might try try try
we never stop looking at the sky

dear old sir, poor father of mine
you've left me quite alone
all on my very own
I don't miss too much

dear father
I don't miss you

dear sister
I don't trust you

dear mother
it's not a bit real

there's a little baby bird with a hold on you

dear baby bird, sly thing you
with your man, watching clear and strong
may I take him along?

For my eyes are starlight black
With those spirits on my back
Somebody must be watchin'
As we dance these wicked tunes

A point
sequence
perchance a pattern
things constantly intertwined
perfect circle
golden ratios
where there are 2's there are 3's

but in the end...mystics

Our lady & father as named in scripture

sequential gatherings
we join as community worshipers

there are patterns as I walk
numbers as we talk
non-believers gather on us
Herald, we walk as words from your mouth into eternal
shall we seek forth that which repeats onto itself, changing again and again into familiarity?
Or has it been found already?
Perhaps before the eye could see it or the mind conceive it.

We take hope upon the chance
That this is but the process into something, we have finished in ages past
For what would it be to know the answer, without the how, without the meaning?
We may know the how, given time,
however the meaning hasn't been seen yet & the purpose has faded as other things become clear.
Must there always be this strict balance?

Perhaps the comprehension of such balance is a sect, missing among a unitary spiral of knowledge.

Always this path is uncertain, I navigate it as much as can be done, but this vessel is fickle & prone to deranged bouts of change.

As I think, breathe, see, hear, vibrate, pulse, fluctuate with life...there is nothing and I revel in it.

Walking
Talking
Seeing
Breathing
Living
Loving!

Little boy all eyes wide open.
Spinning head with 360 beauty all about!
The world is alive,
He says,  "Oh! What to do with such a wondrous day!"

If I remember correctly, there was a slight pause in the day. A little boy enthralled with the world floated above in the still air. One skimpy leg outstretched with ragged shoelaces and an expectant weight.
Then, a plunge!

The street I lived on hadn't been repaired in years, and right at the end of it a large hole had developed in the nearby grass. Perhaps a sinkhole of some sort. There was a little boy who ran around our street for a few weeks. I used to wave hello. Now I never see him. How strange.

Listen to the bell's toll
It brings solace to the soul
The imps of my fitful slumber
Hope to drag me in the deep of sleep
Awakening to the noon of day
I leave my house with no delay
Hoping to find the one I love, dream of
Upon the stone from where she lays
As I rush into the sea of granite
The tombstones' voices drown my thoughts
A hundred murders, a thousand deaths
Accusations, reveries, pleadings
They cloud my mind
And I embrace darkness.
I feel the chilling touch of winter's baby soft breath
As I rise to my feet
To find myself in front
Of my long lost lover's
Final retreat
A heathen's breath descends upon
My heaving breast
As I claw the cursed ground, oh, the cursed ground,
Away from this place of solemnity
‑­
As the final clod of dirt is removed, in an air of infallibility
I hope to obtain a glimpse of my dearest
Only to find those accursed pits of black like a pool of tainted water

With hair like limpid worms in the night
And that ghastly nightmare grin,
Mocking my very existence to see whom I seek
In a terrible rage, I shred, I tear, I smash, and render the Beast
Indistinguishable in any form
I fling myself into the streets
Tearing thru the crowds
Vaulting over and thru the market stalls
To find my wild flight halted by a pair of
Panicked citizens hoping to alleviate my obvious distress
Only now in a flash of mental shock
That throws me close to an unconscious state
Does the realization of my actions ascend to my heavens
And as the citizens holding me let go
I myself let go
Of everything and everyone that matters
Or should matter to me
Stumbling, hoping to hold my balance along the precipice
From which my mind has already cast itself
‑­
I once again see a dripping, searing red rage cloud my vision as the madness
That had taken me among the tombstones returns
Swatting aside those near me
I approach the river that runs thru the city
And staring into the depths
I see the creature that I had become
A haggard defeated man that had succumbed to the
Eternal darkness that engulfs everyone in time
And I see my love, the one who I had sought for so long
Alongside this poor creature that is within me
Her presence is all that I can now perceive
And I let my grasp on this world
Decay, and as I sink into the depths
My love approaches and embraces me

In the final act of Love

In the final act of Life

In the only act of Death.