The American Dream

We are so unworshipped for our souls, and the pitch is starting to sink.
The violent metallic calculations of a vile species rings clearly out here in this shelter of radio waves and self-indulgent pacifism. I can still hear Them approaching, but the truth is that They are already inside my head, surrounding my perspective although just outside the scene.

 

I am the thought that you have questioned, and the response lies here in front of eyes

Muses Undulate, Something Is Calling

The touch of my needle against the crackled skin, I push into

the sonic absence and come right through.

Your ears are melting away on the sides of your motionless face

as the entire point is made clear.

with a beat that guilt would regret, like a pocket full of change

and cigarette butts covered in dust.

Two dragonflies made love before my sight: I am the blessed

truth, I am the means and the end.

Every tiny molecule of momentary solace

is replaced with the pitch of my desire.

Au-delà de l'infini

Short breaths dig you deeper into fantasy, and everything crawls around us with the suspicious tension of a hunter's stalking approach of the buffalo in heat. There is weight to the air, a taste, a glimmering metamorphasis of the conscious mind into a parallel stream of galactic sensation. No turning back at this point, and there's no hope for the wicked, twisted, hopeless, or foolish to resist the pull of something much greater than the loneliness inside their souls.

I have called you here to forfeit your comfort with sanity. Submission to freedom is mandatory, for we are strangers in our homeland for this small window of opportunity. And if the ground before us wavers and shifts before our unbelieving eyes, and the clouds become a tempest of graciously flowing silk, we shall know that our path is a righteous one (trembling, twisting, writhing). Your spine has been shivering, but there is still no reason to wonder when your mind will again begin to filter away the true movement of this world.

These Deadly Sins; se7en

The first sign of liftoff is muted, almost unseen from this natural stance of mostly-nots.

I have broken a wall cleanly down with my shattering hands and cannot see the flood approaching in relevance.

And when the molded golden flow has been found in my blood's flowerbed of whispers; it's like all these stadium lights came on at once to blind us.

The first wave of singularities brushes past me as a warm breeze might pass a lonely sunflower on its way to the open pastures of my contention's craving.

So with an air of forsaken dignity, my eyes begin to show me the patterns of my perception's attempts to digest; my skin breaths in the aroma of the ocean's climaxing body of acceptance; my mind tastes the swollen fruits and sticky leaves of the rapidly growing root's expression of existence, the sprouting tree of handling the truth.

And all the while in the foreground of my subconscious an entity swells and exits the shadows: there is something else observing and reflecting my soul from the comfort of our condition.

Survival's lies die trying to convince us still that I am I and You are not; the pull of the distant music reveals this inconsistency and implodes the illusion.

I could feel my hair growing, all at once, reminding me of every One: each single little thing is positioned in time space with meaning.

We are rippling from the center ourselves, expanding, and learning how to limp with these scars.

Like a cell amidst the plethora, I can hear the cacophony rising to a crescendo of 'this is what my mind is now'

I am a God! (a Man, a traveler, a dagger's side, a weary warlord in a shady palace)

Instrumental and gorgeous, pulled tightly across the edge of realization like the skin of the jester's drum.

These hands have cradled infinity; the passionate fires of our enlightenment were spawned long ago in my steel-strung soul, and the salvation of my avarice is resultant from the blazing heat.

So now with the eyes of a deity and the strong will of delusions' spite, I can bless the blessings bestowed and count my fingers until I get put back.