Tag Archives: #thoughts

OCTOBER 7, 2018

How sweet is the affliction of humanity
to speak of it’s ills renders me unsocial
How sweet is the affliction of humanity
to speak of it’s ills renders me unsocial
to think of it’s crimes too horrendous
How sweet it is to turn an eye away

And farewell, sweet world, my dearest
fiend. That we remain calm and serene
while all things great and small burn
makes us one of a kind.

That I have secluded my sanity from all
intercourse of my fellow creatures
and have remitted self to tangled
words and convoluted thoughts …
makes all of my internal organs
breath easier.

How sweet is our affliction.

Humanity!

:: 10-07-2018 ::


SQuEEZeD

SQUEEZED is my brain so i think nothing like no thing
stitched partly into vengeance and frozen time Madness
i can hear the poisoning troop of deception cloaked behind
lies calling me
ooh oh ooh aah ah aah
so show me ruin show me evil
show me unsee-able things
i will show you armor
i will show you strength
i will slay you from now
until the very end of time
some call me nothing
some call me conscious
some call me love
I AM HEARTBREAK

:: 10-06-2018 ::


ORGANIC BRAIN

Poetry


EXILED

I have become the exiled
in sleep i have become
not the disappeared
but one who shrinks into
a height of awareness.

An awareness as sharp as
fractured obsidian.

And within the silky-touch
moments of suffering inner
journeys my soul rejects
all coherent reason –
leave!

Exiled consciousness slips
from subjectivity into a
gaping eternal void
of abstract form; The First
Land where numbers, thoughts,
and intangibles are born
and return to rest when over-
used.

And tonight as in all previous
nights it is sleep which has
exiled me from body.

To shrink into pure consciousness.

Freedom.

:: 04-02-2018 ::


AN OLD LADY THREW ME THE BIRD TODAY

A tongue like Excalibur melts into mythically steeled words
and ends up tearing hearts with all its magical properties.
Then the universe collapses into a final ending with nothing
left but the, “no thing.” It continues to breath and all words
move forward as zombied penguins with many semicolons standing
whimsically awaiting the next coherent thought.

And the deep dreamer asks, “So let me get this straight Jack”
to the Police Doctor on hand. “You want me to take my pencil
and right every wrong for those patients in the mechanical
ward of broken minds?” Just then a portal opens at the foot
of the deep dreamer’s mouth and the little blue clothed
munchkins drag him out of the ward and into a bread truck
and say, “You’re coming with us to settle a bet.”

The bread smells a wonderful Jesus-like body but there’s
no blood-wine to go with the screams.

:: 03-10-2018 ::


A PARCHMENT OF MYSTERY

 I AM the Heart.  The Spirit.
The wings of flight and love.
The many illusions of living,
Feeling, and even betrayal.

  And the small and great
Things upon four feet.
The stem reaching for the sun.
The grains of innumerable sands

Across the dry lands and the
Crystal-snow of high mountains.

Love.  It is all and everything.
Within the molecule and the edge
Of a growing universe.

To live and know the unknown
Is terribly lonely.

But Love, love!

The greatest mystery!

:: 12-05-2017


THERE IS NO DEATH

death is a weak spoken word
as tinder burning — my love?
We were alive! Once, when
we saw the clouds covering
the quiet land in purple
and blues my dear.

The river was rushinng
thrashing and weathering
the ancient rocks —
our hearts, too!

Many believe death is end
but for lovers the beginning!
I shall be soft while I
conqueor the living now;
I will speak your name
and the celestial beings
— they already weep!


i loved-like love

i loved-like love the Spirit of our Heads
standing tall upon the stalk of a neck
seeing colors unknown; feeling feelings
like boiling heat –> and that boiling
stench is the others who are always lost
||||| i am never between 2
walls ||||| and the face like a sky
looks down and calls my name and i hear
my Soul scream
the beetle has it’s dung; the famous
have their money, but no one is anyone
like i am so Spirit of this Universe
come and won’t you come and teach us
the secrets of all.

:: 10-13-2017 ::


LOVE the single and only EXTRAORDINARY

IF there is one love for all

then  love is simply

s t r e t c h ed  small

Love; the singular tear drop
fallen upon a mountain large:
which finds a path through
stone and dirt until reaching
center bottom.

LOVE

the single and only

EXTRAORDINARY  as twlight’s
first throated burst of
mornings or evenings |
and IF there is one love
for all      if for all

then I have met Love
which is why I love all.

:: 10-10-2017 ::


A Force of Spirit

POETRY is the force of Spirit
and has no hand in human
dwelling; all prose by
human hand expressed by
Soul and Heart is complete.

These are the words of something
transcendental which surpasses
humanity: race, religion, sex,
and politics.

I am endowed by the great poets
and their words; but refrain
from the injected thoughts
of ingrained humanity.

We as a race of humans are
endowed too by their prose
but I care not for any thought
of politics, religion, and the
rest of that messy goo.

If the eye can rest
and the heart can run
allow them two to meet:
every other ‘thing’ is
objectified by the flesh.

:: 10-10-2017 ::