In love, and half mad. I am stronger
holding my tongue and swear to nothing.
:: 09-23-2017 ::
Category Archives: Uncategorized
NO EXCHANGE FOR TRUTH
NO EXCHANGE FOR TRUE
AS a lover i have forgiven everyone
but myself
AS a vegabon my bundle is what’s
left of a heart
That there is only one true love
and the rest shadows we chase
is nothing more than tragedy
And what of it. That
pain and suffering feel bright
and hurting: my love your love
feels bright and hurting too.
So life is everything within
the bundle I now carry as a poor
man. My only gift is truth.
and yet no coins to exchange
for this experience but I keep
it all for me and you.
:: 09-23-2017 ::
SIMPLY, THE LESS IF VARIABLE OF LIFE
SIMPLY, the less if variables of life
AND DEATH.
We surpass.
In the most simplest accord we
Decline the complexity of most
Examples of truth
Deferring our weakness through
Knowledge that we are all within
The GREAT DARKNESS of history.
And which country, planet or
Heavenly realm may deny?
It has always been the
Diabolical plan to obfuscate
Understanding and why?
The truth is nothing of the
Likes we have imagined.
It creeps by ways of human
Urgency: art, poetry, music
And oratory finesse.
THAT we are creators
Imbued with the likeness
Of our Father. This Father
Is not father nor mother
But the genesis of all things
— Things with meaning; with
Reason.
Strip away language and
Embrace intuition and emotion
And the truth is simply
THERE.
:: 09-20-2017 ::
GHOSTS, DEMONS, ANGELS AND FRIARS
THAT coalescing threat of fear, death,
That singular fact, it was not friendly
but a sound caressing the ears
Raising temperatures of moaning fever
And while dreaming was no release
And not evening wakefulness naively
Determined i found a third attempt
To relieve the crunching sounds so near
Inside of me i flew toward towers of
Steeples whose roofs were silver lips
And the colossal hips of Creator
And ghosts, demons, angels, and friars
AND all i see all without eyes
And all i taste so tasteful
Without lust upon the tip of tongue
Was this razor tipped extravagant mind
oh… i believe
oh… so believe
oh… my pilot of love
And a song from my ageless suit
of amour as hammers hoisted,
steel turning, piercing flesh
came the true friend: death
So… truth is sharp
so… who touches an edge
and is not cut to the soul
oh! And all i see
is as the sun and
a colorful ground
beneath the breasts
of You
and the feeling
of all the Love
searching — i follow
the shadow of my married
one. You. Me.
:: 09-18-2017 ::
THE PUZZLE OF THE BUFFALO
THIS dream.
I am walking through a tunnel between the streets. Air as thick
as my misconceptions of life. The gutters are gone but my fears
fulfill the deed.
A passing light of brilliant orbs dazzle me then I am walking
across a cache of weapons and I see my feet amongst others.
The wolves’ den.
“Who are you?” One asks.
I am a dream walker.
“Are you crazy?” asks another.
No. I am here for reasons unknown.
“Kill him.” says the one with shifty eyes.
Why would you wish this?
“He’s a pig.”
No.
“Bro, do you have buffalos running around within
your head?”
Yes.
“Let him go.”
I love you all and please learn from this: if you
do all that is told then you are not living a brilliant
life as you can.
And the buffalos will trample you one soon day.
I wake up.
:: 09-17-2017 ::
THERE ARE AT TIMES MORE SAID
Such firey autumn colors are
within the eyes of this love
she is the season of all that
becomes a singular reason:
joy.
AND then some are storms:
the moments of ozone
burning that burns the lungs.
the purse oxygen of destructive
rebirth. But I am laughing,
sometimes crying and mostly
listening. There are at times
more said in silence than all
that has ever been spoken.
In all of history.
By the shores are waves
clapping from angel’s wings
flapping as they watch those
which are a little below them
but higher in esteem by a
Creator.
The Only One.
Above All!
:: 09-17-2017 ::
in vain we search truth
who knows? we greet the growing greens
each spring that grow.
loving how nature keeps life growing
and growing is many things for
every mind that seeks just a single
answer. It is the single mouth
hungry for truth.
These legs we walk upon are freeing
themselves when walking through
mysterious paths of greenry and
then, sometimes we find a nest
or fallen trunk o’ tree in front
of our path. Do we stop?
All a part of the mind.
But the heart which knows;
has taken the bark into its
mouth. And the mind endure.
It is how the tears of clouds
fall toward the skies below
it’s bent knees. And by due
exchange chemistry for love.
:: 09-15-2017 ::
A Poor Man’s Memory
a poor man’s memory. let us count his worth:
Memory: i lost my way within this world.
and i have pockets with nothing but holes.
but then night comes and something stranger
than life itself becomes me:
dreams.
then, within that terrible dream i can
purchase something and anything.
But it is poor.
because its worth is equated.
to money.
this is the poor man’s dream:
a dream based upon money.
Oh Lord allow me to dream
a dream where worth is based
on love.
love is priceless.
This is real. right.
okay. tonight i dream
of love.
and my pocket’s holes
become mended.
As so does my heart.
:: 09-14-2017 ::
C O N S U M E R D E A D
… and then every foot step becomes a monster.
and ‘me’ the simulacrum. it had no
matter where the legs took my theater:
my head-projector focused on the entities
around my case of skin.
I was the trapped. The epitome of
consumer in a strange twisted world
I once had known as home.
and then one day everything became
digital.
I died.
Reborn as the die-hard reluctant.
shopper || .. –>
C O N S U M E R
D E A D
:: 09-14-2017 ::
it is the fear i fear more than the dream
that the dream is a fear is not a fear i
should ever dream. i dream. nothing more?
POLITIKS AND DISEASE
AS everyone on one side of the party lines sang
the other were dead; and while everyone on the
other side of a party line died the other sang.
And this is how rot creeps within society;
to believe that beliefs are division.
that a whole can become fragmented by
philosophy and that one is evil over the other;
that in similar logic all separate parties are
in all insidious fact are evil.
And like the dead who have living bodies and
have become old through media saturation:
the magnificent mausoleum of a natural
world outside mourns the Children of God.
the tombstone of a moon.
the rosery beads of bloody tears.
And fear is King and the Queen a forgotten
truth we may never again remember.
:: 09-14-2017 ::
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