everyone is just doing their best
i am trying
she said
in the background of your stance
is another missed chance
to make things right
and so it was
we were children again
except for all this baggage
we hoisted around
just in case
~
i care too much
and its only ever
in a certain way
my selfishness
has been catching up
to the place
that i thought i would have left by now
~
i am beginning to forget
what i once decided
my self to comprise
nasty habits
and the resounding
effort to see
fuck you for failing me
oh strangling tethers of my heart;
grasping for what's missing
as my lungs starve and crumble.
no more chances at growing old together,
of holding wrinkled hands
in the blinding brilliance of the sun
as it crests into our view.
this image floods into my thoughts
like the napalm of old mistakes;
the bitter and illogical musings of an emotionally turbulent man
stuck between his mind and his affections.
Year of the Horse
why's it been so damn long?
it's almost as if these words didn't need me to say them.
i've been feeling and learning like never before,
so it is peculiar to move forwards without a supple channel of rhetoric to chant my frictions.
more things coming so profoundly into focus these days,
like the power of my heart
and the chance to move on.
It's all so dangerous,
fresh, invigorating, and sometimes even appropriately sketchy.
I am open
shining brilliantly
gathering the seashells of my affections
into the castles of a mirthful court.
it's almost as if these words didn't need me to say them.
i've been feeling and learning like never before,
so it is peculiar to move forwards without a supple channel of rhetoric to chant my frictions.
more things coming so profoundly into focus these days,
like the power of my heart
and the chance to move on.
It's all so dangerous,
fresh, invigorating, and sometimes even appropriately sketchy.
I am open
shining brilliantly
gathering the seashells of my affections
into the castles of a mirthful court.
Sinking Further
Lessons unlearned,
oh bitter theme of our endeavours.
Our souls must be giggling infectiously,
watching you and I so foolishly bickering.
They can see that this physical realm holds no tangible path
that we might share,
hand in hand to heart to heat.
~
It's a hard road you have to travel,
old friend;
I do not know how you will fare.
This could have gone differently,
my inner voices of hope and reason gently remind me.
Too much chaos twists our minds from stillness.
oh bitter theme of our endeavours.
Our souls must be giggling infectiously,
watching you and I so foolishly bickering.
They can see that this physical realm holds no tangible path
that we might share,
hand in hand to heart to heat.
~
It's a hard road you have to travel,
old friend;
I do not know how you will fare.
This could have gone differently,
my inner voices of hope and reason gently remind me.
Too much chaos twists our minds from stillness.
oh supple teat of exaltation
I'm fuckin jazzed up like nobodies business
Heart chakra boogie foot is the flow of my feels as my smile simply grows.
Heart chakra boogie foot is the flow of my feels as my smile simply grows.
Down the Chakras and Back Again
I haven't seen a thing
so much to come,
no ground to stand on
debris like this life that I've lead
falling rubble to the earth
in the scope of such mind-bending adventures
of the futures near and far,
one little entity could ever determine what this is.
The nature of this consciousness
confounds and diffuses my understanding.
I am weightless underneath this burden of total freedom.
I am dissolved and open.
so much to come,
no ground to stand on
debris like this life that I've lead
falling rubble to the earth
in the scope of such mind-bending adventures
of the futures near and far,
one little entity could ever determine what this is.
The nature of this consciousness
confounds and diffuses my understanding.
I am weightless underneath this burden of total freedom.
I am dissolved and open.
Marital Dichotomy
You break me down,
yet I crave your build.
You hurt my everything,
yet I want for your healing touch.
You stifle my strengths,
yet in your arms I am happy to be vulnerable.
You destroy my self-worth,
yet your gaze builds me up.
You lie and manipulate until my intuition is useless,
yet my trust for you has somehow remained.
I cannot speak to others about you without cruel and unforgiving words,
but when our eyes meet my thoughts dwell only on affection.
I hate you with my mind,
though my soul is always in love.
yet I crave your build.
You hurt my everything,
yet I want for your healing touch.
You stifle my strengths,
yet in your arms I am happy to be vulnerable.
You destroy my self-worth,
yet your gaze builds me up.
You lie and manipulate until my intuition is useless,
yet my trust for you has somehow remained.
I cannot speak to others about you without cruel and unforgiving words,
but when our eyes meet my thoughts dwell only on affection.
I hate you with my mind,
though my soul is always in love.
Frantic
From one extreme to the next,
when does your soul get a moment to relax?
Sorrow's hands grip your caramel neck
only until rage bursts out of every crevasse.
Choose your path with intention,
you fool.
when does your soul get a moment to relax?
Sorrow's hands grip your caramel neck
only until rage bursts out of every crevasse.
Choose your path with intention,
you fool.
:flip 180:
Transformation can be so aqueous,
wet,
twisted,
and immediate.
One moment drenched in apathy,
another soaked in sweat and promise,
only to so vehemently dissolve
into two people with no love held between them.
And now,
to marvelously exemplefy my theory
that Zeus is hell-bent on fucking with my life,
the desire has returned.
Ambiguity is my cradle,
coherency my grave
and here i sit on top of it all,
looking down at the great rumblings of lands far away.
wet,
twisted,
and immediate.
One moment drenched in apathy,
another soaked in sweat and promise,
only to so vehemently dissolve
into two people with no love held between them.
And now,
to marvelously exemplefy my theory
that Zeus is hell-bent on fucking with my life,
the desire has returned.
Ambiguity is my cradle,
coherency my grave
and here i sit on top of it all,
looking down at the great rumblings of lands far away.
Rejection answers the wounded growl,
revealing in its wake
an assembly of expectations in every direction.
Like a rip tide seducing me further from the shore,
these experiences remind me
that the flow of nature is immediate and righteously overwhelming.
I am out here paddling,
breathing like fire
as the moment grip my spirit
in its aqueous palms.
Live or die are not the options right now;
keep swimming,
moving,
pumping force to stay afloat,
no need to understand
or define this task at hand.
She is a bitter body, that ocean of my dreams;
keep swimming,
moving water with my feet.
Emissions-Free
To be honest, it does sting a bit to speak her name, though it also reminds me that this little sting is all that is left of the stab in my side. Healing happened without any pretensions. Now, a tiny little pinch on the corners of my hearts might not be so bad; stay awake, good sir, don't forget what you have righteously abandoned.
~
I realized something yesterday, and it punched right through my inebriated fog like a tidal wave amidst the sea:
I have found true and sacred love. It unfortunately has so far been held in the wicked winds of ones so corruptible and full of malevolence, but the heartwarmth itself stretches far beyond the grasps of those that seek its distortion. I dont love these human women, or at least I haven't yet. I am connected, instead, to the sweet supple Greater Spirit; Gaia finds her outlets in the tongues and hearts of all of us. I can most profoundly observe her web wrapped around the souls of those I share the most intimacy with, it seems.
~
I once put my hand to her chest and felt my raw, undistorted essence ripped like a sonic boom out into the ethers of existence. I see more clearly in this moment of reflection that this conduit I encountered was not one simply shared between two earth-bound vessels on the bed in my room; I believe something reached out to grab me, show me the stars up close, only to throw me back into the physical realm with the force of a thousand salty tears falling into an ocean of embers still glowing from fresh conquest.
~
Speechless; I reflect with shifty eyes on other such momentous experiences I've shared with the assorted characters that have clumsily drifted through the channels of my heart.
And I can tell that I am here
to keep swimming, always onwards.
Flap those weary wings, my love,
and embark further into this magical realm
towards the light of new potential
and the heat of new epiphanies.
<3
~
I realized something yesterday, and it punched right through my inebriated fog like a tidal wave amidst the sea:
I have found true and sacred love. It unfortunately has so far been held in the wicked winds of ones so corruptible and full of malevolence, but the heartwarmth itself stretches far beyond the grasps of those that seek its distortion. I dont love these human women, or at least I haven't yet. I am connected, instead, to the sweet supple Greater Spirit; Gaia finds her outlets in the tongues and hearts of all of us. I can most profoundly observe her web wrapped around the souls of those I share the most intimacy with, it seems.
~
I once put my hand to her chest and felt my raw, undistorted essence ripped like a sonic boom out into the ethers of existence. I see more clearly in this moment of reflection that this conduit I encountered was not one simply shared between two earth-bound vessels on the bed in my room; I believe something reached out to grab me, show me the stars up close, only to throw me back into the physical realm with the force of a thousand salty tears falling into an ocean of embers still glowing from fresh conquest.
~
Speechless; I reflect with shifty eyes on other such momentous experiences I've shared with the assorted characters that have clumsily drifted through the channels of my heart.
And I can tell that I am here
to keep swimming, always onwards.
Flap those weary wings, my love,
and embark further into this magical realm
towards the light of new potential
and the heat of new epiphanies.
<3
Always Wanting, Never to Understand
I feel that connection:
i hear it, taste it, sense it in ways i may never understand.
it provokes me,
kinks me,
tells me riddles without answer
until i can feel the rising urge to flee,
to say its not there,
to deny this sacred bond
and stay safe down here
invulnerable and distant.
My ego craves completion
and yet...
I am not finished here,
not complete nor in a state of understanding,
so my silly little cravings will have to wait
until some higher level math
equips me with the tools i have yet to learn.
i hear it, taste it, sense it in ways i may never understand.
it provokes me,
kinks me,
tells me riddles without answer
until i can feel the rising urge to flee,
to say its not there,
to deny this sacred bond
and stay safe down here
invulnerable and distant.
My ego craves completion
and yet...
I am not finished here,
not complete nor in a state of understanding,
so my silly little cravings will have to wait
until some higher level math
equips me with the tools i have yet to learn.
Mysteries of the Forwards Momentum
spiraling, teetering,
vanquished heart and eyes
falling upon such precious portals
before they're whisked away.
too too much is never enough
when the craving is for chaos;
it begins as a dance to conjure wholeness
only to dwindle into the other side
of a space kept in between.
aching, probing,
passion is pouring out
into a puddle
that collects beneath my bed at night.
vanquished heart and eyes
falling upon such precious portals
before they're whisked away.
too too much is never enough
when the craving is for chaos;
it begins as a dance to conjure wholeness
only to dwindle into the other side
of a space kept in between.
aching, probing,
passion is pouring out
into a puddle
that collects beneath my bed at night.
Roots that bind my feet, Fire that licks my skin
There is an intruder in my mind;
her skin is so soft
as she tells me that its not enough.
Another monster set loose upon the world,
though this one is mine.
Every move I make is followed
by inevitable doubt and
always always always
questioning.
Dissatisfaction like DMT
lifting us out of the atmospheric ego
into clouds that sink low behind the horizon.
Steeping my water into mud,
such bitter tea
that drinks me down.
Hate found its way inside.
When is time going to change?
I'm ready.
her skin is so soft
as she tells me that its not enough.
Another monster set loose upon the world,
though this one is mine.
Every move I make is followed
by inevitable doubt and
always always always
questioning.
Dissatisfaction like DMT
lifting us out of the atmospheric ego
into clouds that sink low behind the horizon.
Steeping my water into mud,
such bitter tea
that drinks me down.
Hate found its way inside.
When is time going to change?
I'm ready.
Sorcery to Quell the Bitter
I had just narrowly escaped the wrath of the Goddess of Libido
When these sun-scorched eyes beheld a vision of another entity just inside the scene.
A well traveled skin holding tightly to such raw sensuality;
perhaps too few hands had grasped greedily for what innocence laid below.
Our minds found a quick conduit into an intellectual dimension
Whose infinite potentials held great promise
As the words danced from our tongues into a glorious synthesis of new hopes and the quest for harmony.
I felt a flutter yet unknown within this head of mine:
New ground covered by the whimsical assumptions I could not refrain from constructing.
I saw pure white light coursing through our naked shining bodies as we danced in fields untouched by plow or mind.
Another chance at purity so quickly followed my rejection from harmony
That it almost breathed the name of the Great Fate
And I'm tingling, hoping that this delusion is no less real than any other.
When these sun-scorched eyes beheld a vision of another entity just inside the scene.
A well traveled skin holding tightly to such raw sensuality;
perhaps too few hands had grasped greedily for what innocence laid below.
Our minds found a quick conduit into an intellectual dimension
Whose infinite potentials held great promise
As the words danced from our tongues into a glorious synthesis of new hopes and the quest for harmony.
I felt a flutter yet unknown within this head of mine:
New ground covered by the whimsical assumptions I could not refrain from constructing.
I saw pure white light coursing through our naked shining bodies as we danced in fields untouched by plow or mind.
Another chance at purity so quickly followed my rejection from harmony
That it almost breathed the name of the Great Fate
And I'm tingling, hoping that this delusion is no less real than any other.
Surfriction of Aptitude
A sudden surge of clarity, as though my brain just came online for the first time in ages. I feel the great potential within that I once held with so much faith. A lot has happened since my first rebirth to cloud my intellect and self-confidence. My intelligence is not lost, not yet; not by a long shot.
I now recall the inner-echo: I can rise to any occasion without faltering impotently.
Has it really been that long since I last felt capable of enduring any challenge I might face? Have the bitter poisons of love and loss truly exiled me from myself to this distance?
No neat ending to this one, folks, for I must clammor on and keep moving; ahead, forwards, onwards, up and out... Life will not dissect such ambiguities, nor will I in this case.
I now recall the inner-echo: I can rise to any occasion without faltering impotently.
Has it really been that long since I last felt capable of enduring any challenge I might face? Have the bitter poisons of love and loss truly exiled me from myself to this distance?
No neat ending to this one, folks, for I must clammor on and keep moving; ahead, forwards, onwards, up and out... Life will not dissect such ambiguities, nor will I in this case.
Brahman's Restoration
I am an eye
searching consistently for epiphany
yet concurrently,
I blindly have believed what appears to be.
My vision becomes a religion,
embellished by minds that are not like mine,
constructions that define the world that they find,
someone else's broken paradigm.
my senses ominously
shift my intuition to accept the slavery,
this constant subjugation by a corrupt society.
ah, and its so much easier to fade lazily
into a jaded state escaping entropy
building ignorant beliefs out of in-betweens,
and what might soon be.
Then again, those with choice only believe that they're free.
~
Hegel claims that consciousness is desire;
the craving, thirst enslaving quest for fire
that ignites the tongues of liars
to project this conspiracy.
As the social mind injects my self with conditioned needs
I lose my sacred dignity.
As a member of the greater flow
my contribution is what i know
I have a chance to shift the view
of who we are and what we do.
we can change the words that we pass down,
the hopes to hope, the dreams unfound;
together you and I can build
a higher consciousness that is fulfilled
by each of us that lasts until
an even-higher goal can test our will.
And it starts right. now. with us:
With the rejection of outmoded fallacies
through the election of a stronger mentality
spawning freedom from the malady
of a lost potentiality.
We can work towards the escape
from inequality, ignorance, and hate.
We were put here to save the next wave
of parents, learners, scholars and burners,
those who will compile their perspectives
from our actions as a collective.
This is a revolution of the mind
that reconnects us to our spines
in the hope that we might find
a balance in our hearts aligned.
searching consistently for epiphany
yet concurrently,
I blindly have believed what appears to be.
My vision becomes a religion,
embellished by minds that are not like mine,
constructions that define the world that they find,
someone else's broken paradigm.
my senses ominously
shift my intuition to accept the slavery,
this constant subjugation by a corrupt society.
ah, and its so much easier to fade lazily
into a jaded state escaping entropy
building ignorant beliefs out of in-betweens,
and what might soon be.
Then again, those with choice only believe that they're free.
~
Hegel claims that consciousness is desire;
the craving, thirst enslaving quest for fire
that ignites the tongues of liars
to project this conspiracy.
As the social mind injects my self with conditioned needs
I lose my sacred dignity.
As a member of the greater flow
my contribution is what i know
I have a chance to shift the view
of who we are and what we do.
we can change the words that we pass down,
the hopes to hope, the dreams unfound;
together you and I can build
a higher consciousness that is fulfilled
by each of us that lasts until
an even-higher goal can test our will.
And it starts right. now. with us:
With the rejection of outmoded fallacies
through the election of a stronger mentality
spawning freedom from the malady
of a lost potentiality.
We can work towards the escape
from inequality, ignorance, and hate.
We were put here to save the next wave
of parents, learners, scholars and burners,
those who will compile their perspectives
from our actions as a collective.
This is a revolution of the mind
that reconnects us to our spines
in the hope that we might find
a balance in our hearts aligned.
Contradictions and other Non-Opposites
I'm swimming... I am the water.
I am confused
Down below the bubbles
(those toxic tensions rising towards the air above),
we all still float, sink, and hold our cherished breath beneath the skin.
She is a shark, a serpent's kiss, a rogue molten jet of aqueous lava
boiling the water until it bathes us little fish with fire.
I am underneath the surface
unable to swim
even for my life.
I am confused
Down below the bubbles
(those toxic tensions rising towards the air above),
we all still float, sink, and hold our cherished breath beneath the skin.
She is a shark, a serpent's kiss, a rogue molten jet of aqueous lava
boiling the water until it bathes us little fish with fire.
I am underneath the surface
unable to swim
even for my life.
My Greatest Moment Yet:
Making love by the light of the full moon whilst juggling alligators in tiny rocket ships brought back from the future to liberate our minds with the healing power of advanced alien lazer-beam gumbo which often comes with an unfortunately small side of corn bread that was baked in the wood-fire oven of a particularly ornery ex-Tony Danza impersonator who evidently is unable to return the many messages i have left him since that first romantic evening that he held me to his remarkably tender and supple bosom until I felt like I was back in the womb again, though only for a moment.
Narcosis
Deep slumber
dreaming of the weight of waking
returning
for that bittersweet feel
until my soul dissolves
like the veins of a junkie
love like a needle
words like the blackest tar
rushing towards my defenseless mind
at the speed of my heart's contractions
same destiny
different path
under my skin
dreaming of the weight of waking
returning
for that bittersweet feel
until my soul dissolves
like the veins of a junkie
love like a needle
words like the blackest tar
rushing towards my defenseless mind
at the speed of my heart's contractions
same destiny
different path
under my skin
fleeting moment as i'd seen you
pass out and then i'll die here.
everything inside
the silence that opens us.
felt feeling with kiss before,
except I had not
yet been in such moments.
spoken word, empty thought, as
the tensions rise we
crumble like the flesh we are.
L Dmt
Watching an explosion at a distance
but there's no shielding the heat from our faces.
Reds like blood and Oranges bursting like flame,
marked up madness pouring over every pore.
Certainly there are hopes dashed on the sidelines of this experience,
some other narrative pushed to the border.
Wild, though, passion ignited furiously;
spilling out, pushing past the edges of sanity.
~
I have no fucking idea what just happened,
but now my room is empty of her mania
and I'll slip back into comfort,
just after I erase the image
of a mad woman smearing toxic paint on her pretty face.
but there's no shielding the heat from our faces.
Reds like blood and Oranges bursting like flame,
marked up madness pouring over every pore.
Certainly there are hopes dashed on the sidelines of this experience,
some other narrative pushed to the border.
Wild, though, passion ignited furiously;
spilling out, pushing past the edges of sanity.
~
I have no fucking idea what just happened,
but now my room is empty of her mania
and I'll slip back into comfort,
just after I erase the image
of a mad woman smearing toxic paint on her pretty face.
Thirst
Before the first touch... I am consumed by desire, rabid, obsessed with the taste I'd imagine your sweetness to exude. These bodies are heavy with sweat primed to spill into our writhing euphoria. Wrapping spines around skin, pulling you into the embrace that I push forth; becoming much more than one. For these few supple moments of premonition we are freed from the listless reality of finite embodiment. Fantasy commingles with expectation as I inhale your aching passion. I will take you until there is nothing left to give, hold you down to lift us up, scratch your flesh and make you feel. Deeper into my gaze, heavier into your breath, the blood rushes through your veins so that I might drink you in.
01001010111010101010101001010101101010101
glitched out wannabe, maybe you'd come home with me?
there's lots of glitter in the pocket of my plaid flannel sparkling.
giant chunks crunchin e pills in ecstasy,
though for a minute we looked past our biology
and talked aloud bout living free;
love not centered on the goals of procreation
but instead focused on channeling this vibration.
it could be real, fake, illusion bleeds into the known,
this dichotomy of plugging in when we're all born alone.
i trust in fate but believe nothing of it,
all i see in my eyes is a path that i covet.
there's lots of glitter in the pocket of my plaid flannel sparkling.
giant chunks crunchin e pills in ecstasy,
though for a minute we looked past our biology
and talked aloud bout living free;
love not centered on the goals of procreation
but instead focused on channeling this vibration.
it could be real, fake, illusion bleeds into the known,
this dichotomy of plugging in when we're all born alone.
i trust in fate but believe nothing of it,
all i see in my eyes is a path that i covet.
a sollicitudo pro virtus.
smiling through the tears,
finally sensing the next steps forward:
mercy, forgiveness, patience,
(i bless the life outside, i respect the life inside)
hope, understanding, endurance,
(hurtling forwards into the life ahead with virtue)
and a maintenance of self-respect.
it's gonna be hard going from here,
please believe that it will get better.
finally sensing the next steps forward:
mercy, forgiveness, patience,
(i bless the life outside, i respect the life inside)
hope, understanding, endurance,
(hurtling forwards into the life ahead with virtue)
and a maintenance of self-respect.
it's gonna be hard going from here,
please believe that it will get better.
and then the sun went out
there is an absence of light all around.
no, not darkness;
this is where light should have traveled.
i am enveloped,
raptured by black talons,
torn to pieces
in the silence of my screams.
Sometimes
Forgetful missings,
the repetitions of a year and half now behind me.
A most bizarre sense of duality:
seeing clearly our insurmountable incompatibility
(thank gaia for the burn alone, for the money that stays in my pocket, for the openness that i am blessed to retain, for the arguments I haven't had to have, for the words of a wicked woman that tore me into puddles of emasculated hopelessness, for the jealousy that no longer overwhelms my disposition, for that empty hope that I no longer have to strain to keep nestled against my heaving chest),
while also rationally perceiving what cherishments are now lacking
(somehow still pining for that distant bosom, for the adventure, for the intensity of endurances before unknown, for the sexual achievements of those two impassioned lycanthropes I clearly remember tearing into each other, for those moments when I did it right {the right song, the right words, the right apology, the right direction, the right lessons absorbed}, that fucking mouth drawing raw magic from my spine and toes, for the precarious energy that neither of us hesitated to embrace, for those fleeting moments when I could picture my own spawn emerging from the walls of her body {into the world, to learn, to teach, to just be goddam cute!}, for the memories).
There is no doubt necessary to understand that we both did it wrong. So much to learn about respecting and being respectable for both camps; it is overwhelming how much understanding is left to gain for us each.
I made countless mistakes myself; these stand out to me with more significance than any trespass that she left unhealed, for I know only one person that can be helped from my reflections.
I was outrageously unfaithful, weak by anyone's standards, impatient, too horny to function as a reasonable being, impulsive, and dishonest. There are few things I can imagine that I would not have done to get (back) into her sensual graces. I was a monster.
It's hard not to grin, looking back on so many times that I was just a complete fucking bastard. Silly bear, what was there to gain? This is no exercise in blame, though, for our combined energies were innately dangerous in enclosed circumstances. With enough pressure to burst or break under, I recall countless savage and primal flesh wounds enacted for reasons we may have not even known in the moment... I know I did not deserve respect, even though it was hard to resist asking for.
BUT...
I dont regret any of it. I forgive her. I forgive me (although I still deserve to be spanked horribly for a long time to come for some of my exploits).
I had an often unbearable weight of love in my soul for that human, and I wouldn't have it any other way. So I embrace this sense of simultaneous missing/repulsion that I now carry. It is fucking heavy, though!
But here I am, learning, loving anew, finding so much more to learn than I could have imagined. Gaia has been so kind to me. The shattering sound my heart made attracted new wonderful wolves to scarf me down.
Ah, it feels so good to get this out! Out! Out! Into the light of the moon, to dance in the flowered whispers of the greater spirits, I call you OUT!
I love this life, and hold great gratitude for the ride.
<3,
Bears
Anger Rests Deeply Upon A Bosom
Bad kids, fighting against the abuse inside.
Righteous heart that's trapped like bars on a cage.
Empty words,
Empty head.
Zealous,
Yet so vulnerable to apathy.
Inside of heated moments,
Searching for a clueless slob to devour.
Going in circles,
Only expectations to fulfill.
Nothing is left here to spoil
Except the future that you approach.
Piss and Vinegar
Wandering desert winds conjure
wondering dessert wins;
elves that ride ponies,
rhythm spaced for miles,
and a gallon left to drink.
Heart away from home inside my head,
stumbling through serendipity to find
a sprite of sunshine's spray
springing, sweet Tigger come to life;
paths now merged,
tears have dried from my eyes.
There is opportunity here,
lushness unexpected in the dry
spiteful winds of this empty plane.
Welcome mats aren't needed
when such sparkles shine in gazes,
diamond smiles and open arms
wrapping my heart so tightly
it'd be impossible to feel anything else.
There is something I can't quite
put my finger on within the swelling laughter
that she always seems to unravel
in the spaces between the words.
Absurdities arching my spine,
as my revelry seems so poignantly
reflected in her absolute ease
inside the chaos of a passionate life.
Orange haired gypsy,
made of funk,
piss and vinegar;
How does one follow
the path of fire's flame?
Onward, ever forward,
outside reason
and in between
the constants of
straining senses;
deep into the mix
of hot sauce,
whiskey,
and relief
that this glorious goddess
has shown enough mercy
to shelter this moonlit beggar
from the cold,
until the fire is again
stoked within his open gaze.
Wounded healer,
what madness must be endured
in these chosen tribal trials?
Back to the trees,
the wonderment of defaultia
again embracing our perceptions;
what new paths we are to travel,
i gratefully traverse
with a yawp of my own,
and with thanks I rejoice.
insight
there is a great debt left to be payed in my life:
a calling that i must no longer create art and expressions for others. they must be for me. for my tastes, my sensibilities... too often i have missed great opportunities for the sake of feeling a lack of social validation.
i cannot write good music or craft beautiful works for her, for them, for you. i can, however, create meaningful expressions when they are meant to better allow my light to shine.
this is something i must ponder further, of course. i do not seek the path of the hermit, of the introvert, of the man with no ties to community or the cares and needs of others... i do know, though, that it has not been working so far, and a conscious effort is needed to reclaim my potential and bathe my world with the most righteous lights that I have within my capacity.
love is in my heart, and fear will not be held any longer against a bosom of shame.
a calling that i must no longer create art and expressions for others. they must be for me. for my tastes, my sensibilities... too often i have missed great opportunities for the sake of feeling a lack of social validation.
i cannot write good music or craft beautiful works for her, for them, for you. i can, however, create meaningful expressions when they are meant to better allow my light to shine.
this is something i must ponder further, of course. i do not seek the path of the hermit, of the introvert, of the man with no ties to community or the cares and needs of others... i do know, though, that it has not been working so far, and a conscious effort is needed to reclaim my potential and bathe my world with the most righteous lights that I have within my capacity.
love is in my heart, and fear will not be held any longer against a bosom of shame.
we may be behind and ahead
FIRE FIRE PHOENIX FIRE FIRE
love in no short supply, i reach into my own infinity and realize it wont be coming back with me. i am finite and yet my grasp encompasses the very duality between existing and the cessation of this consciousness.
BURNING SOUL AND PASSIONS RELEASE
incarnations of glory find their grotesque channel through my fight and this body of work i am burdened to create. my sensual fury will penetrate your being, i will take you and we will remember what it was to be as one.
LAUGHTER PUSHES OUT OF MY SWOLLEN WOMB
boundaries be damned, touch me where its fuzz for miles. god lives and dies all around, and the flames lick my skin away. i am your infant son, i am the ballerina spinning lies into well-woven basket holding hands.
love in no short supply, i reach into my own infinity and realize it wont be coming back with me. i am finite and yet my grasp encompasses the very duality between existing and the cessation of this consciousness.
BURNING SOUL AND PASSIONS RELEASE
incarnations of glory find their grotesque channel through my fight and this body of work i am burdened to create. my sensual fury will penetrate your being, i will take you and we will remember what it was to be as one.
LAUGHTER PUSHES OUT OF MY SWOLLEN WOMB
boundaries be damned, touch me where its fuzz for miles. god lives and dies all around, and the flames lick my skin away. i am your infant son, i am the ballerina spinning lies into well-woven basket holding hands.
::::;/~0~\;::::
I am the dreamer,
visualizer of untold fates and digressions,
master of self-deception;
I am Horus,
dragging talons of tragedy.
Spinal impulse,
receptors at the ready,
I storm the castles of ghosts;
observing new undulations
of action and tact.
Looking passively for utopia
when my eyes are ajar,
I shiver in the hollow space
of a mind at rest,
tempests swirling past the dark.
Surfacing often crystallizes
all these sights left inside,
now without wings
here in my default world.
visualizer of untold fates and digressions,
master of self-deception;
I am Horus,
dragging talons of tragedy.
Spinal impulse,
receptors at the ready,
I storm the castles of ghosts;
observing new undulations
of action and tact.
Looking passively for utopia
when my eyes are ajar,
I shiver in the hollow space
of a mind at rest,
tempests swirling past the dark.
Surfacing often crystallizes
all these sights left inside,
now without wings
here in my default world.
Telephloranization
Bliss is a luxury afforded by ignorance.
If the brain is the great sculptor of ones sensory and cognitive perceptions into an efficient and survivable understanding of reality, then might, on a larger scale, our very lives be some edited version of an infinite diversity of converging existences?
~
Taking so many gulps of air when I finally break the surface.
Love is a contradiction; a cold streak of fear rolled into a deeply-rooted sensation of destiny, the burn of raw fire crackling up my spine. Why do the most profound and sacred loves always push me out of balance?
I put my head under the water, just to feel submersed.
There are never nearly enough cigarette butts in my ash tray to make me forget about the maybes, but I puff and puff until I choke. Two pills, twenty four fucking doses at once, and a handful of grass to keep me fly. Shot after shot after drink after wine before I crumble into dust, with a thousand less chances to get you naked and inside.
I have no fucking idea who's towel this is, but it is soft as hell and its bringing me back.
~
There is romance in the sorrow.
Too many weeks to count, hidden inside from the sun. Laughter distracts; moments of clarity are suspended like droplets of rain when I'm already soaked. I heave with passion as my libido grasps aimlessly for absolutely any chance at indifference. Isolation beckons brightly in the haze of my addictions.
~
More chances at triumph further my elation, yet the commendations granted to my eloquence and loyalty only suffer the same tawdry fate of all the prior epiphanies; I still shiver in the spring.
If the brain is the great sculptor of ones sensory and cognitive perceptions into an efficient and survivable understanding of reality, then might, on a larger scale, our very lives be some edited version of an infinite diversity of converging existences?
~
Taking so many gulps of air when I finally break the surface.
Love is a contradiction; a cold streak of fear rolled into a deeply-rooted sensation of destiny, the burn of raw fire crackling up my spine. Why do the most profound and sacred loves always push me out of balance?
I put my head under the water, just to feel submersed.
There are never nearly enough cigarette butts in my ash tray to make me forget about the maybes, but I puff and puff until I choke. Two pills, twenty four fucking doses at once, and a handful of grass to keep me fly. Shot after shot after drink after wine before I crumble into dust, with a thousand less chances to get you naked and inside.
I have no fucking idea who's towel this is, but it is soft as hell and its bringing me back.
~
There is romance in the sorrow.
Too many weeks to count, hidden inside from the sun. Laughter distracts; moments of clarity are suspended like droplets of rain when I'm already soaked. I heave with passion as my libido grasps aimlessly for absolutely any chance at indifference. Isolation beckons brightly in the haze of my addictions.
~
More chances at triumph further my elation, yet the commendations granted to my eloquence and loyalty only suffer the same tawdry fate of all the prior epiphanies; I still shiver in the spring.
Syncopation Salivates
Had tasted the dust
once consumed with exuberance,
and brought sweet delight to fruition
in a few tasteful words.
Cannot grasp the desire,
as the reflections cast out
speak with resonance
through well-shouldered epiphanies.
Expansion of the heat source in my soul,
oh rebel wit and scoffed remorse,
words toyed and hunted
with a certain ballsy sunshine;
nudging me closer to the edge
of sexual tension,
towards the dance that called me out.
Heavy momentum towards
new freedom that could seek such hopes.
new freedom that could seek such hopes.
Enthused.
nothing
the ash and embers left behind shall stake my claims,
for the smoldering carnage abandoned in the wake of retreat
serves as my last will and a testament
to the disturbances one little person can inflict upon us all.
forward through some new reality, i must traverse great lengths
to escape the confines of an outdated mentality.
wrapped tightly around my wings
are the shiny chains of an aggressively entrenched ego.
ascending higher between the waves of icy wind
until the air is empty and my breath is ragged,
i've felt new freedoms and an inescapable urge to plummet for far too long.
falling, twisting, bruised and ignorant; I become the weight and release.
Emissionary
"Sex, drugs, and insanity
have always worked for me,
but I wouldn't recommend
them for everyone."- Hunter S. Thompson
There is something I've got to sing out:
an overt inundation of inspiration,
a regurgitation of the bass frequencies rattling around inside,
and all of the beauty i seem to have witnessed
out there in that sunny meadow soaked with life.
I became a festival in my soul,
and the hippies just want to dance!
Another drop on my tongue
as I begin to remember the exaltation.
Our potential energies were set on fire
in the rich air of celebration and excess.
Eyes met to precede the embrace
between our arms and hearts.
For some it became a revelation
to lose their fucking shit
and become a conduit to the grime;
for others it was an expedition into chaos
that pointed their curiosity towards the magnificent.
Dressed in the patterned garbs of mischief and elation
given healthy opportunity to share in the bounty of love.
 |
| Photo by Julie Hanna (https://www.facebook.com/juliehannaphotolovesyou) |
"If you smile at me I will understand because that is something everyone, everywhere does in the same language."
- Jefferson Airplane
- Jefferson Airplane
There was a calm inside the storm.
On the shoulders of gods we eloped,
hand-in-hand, praising circumstance and grinning hope.
~
The heat, the madness, the flight of new absurds;
each of us alone, together.
~
The swirl of cannabis smoke expanding from her lungs,
the wink between lovers at sunrise.
A hug from a stranger that feels like home,
glistening jewels surrounding his smiling eyes.
Infectious laughter bubbling in their midst,
the perfect gift from a new friend.
New understandings in this diversity of wisdoms
becoming epiphanies that make this life brighter.
~
~
This is new family that I choose,
these are new minds that I am blessed to worship.
"I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even
millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to
mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young
girls happy and old girls happier, all of 'em Zen Lunatics who go about
writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and
also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving
visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures. "
- Jack Kerouac
- Jack Kerouac
Love, thanks, and bacon!!!
Bear <3
China Grade Rd.
out here in the starlight my mind had given up any hope of comprehending the violence of my new reality. i saw the immortal spiral branching off and away from my tiny shivering form. i felt the infinite rising its crooked head in protest. i was a god again, and this plane of perception had been crafted for my pleasures and fears to dance like children in the sprinklers. i was dead and forever, i had never really lived.
it had seemed as though my entire life and everyone within it had simply been manifested as a test, a game, a bored deity's only natural course through the unending circuitry of the constant. i saw anger, hopelessness, pain, and torment in the faces surrounding my broken form writing in the tick-infested brush of that ancient forest in which we digressed. the few remaining shreds of my innocence had dissolved into entropy... i am reborn now, or perhaps simply dead anew. i remain infinite. i simply remain.
One More Grateful Push Tonight
No ticket to Burning Man...
but clean drinking water
She doesn't care that it wounds me...
but there's a roof over my head and food in the refrigerator.
Leaving work again with stress knotting my spine...
but I received a free education and a new sense of dignity.
I could have been more or less...
but I am.
And in the absence of all other illusory absolutes,
this perception alone keeps the sorrow at bay.
but clean drinking water
She doesn't care that it wounds me...
but there's a roof over my head and food in the refrigerator.
Leaving work again with stress knotting my spine...
but I received a free education and a new sense of dignity.
I could have been more or less...
but I am.
And in the absence of all other illusory absolutes,
this perception alone keeps the sorrow at bay.
Back From The Sky
The Pulse. The Rhythm. The Fighting To Get Off.
It Sinks Into My Skin...
All Of These Memories Could Surface.
But Now, We Are Silent. We Are Ready.
It Amazes Me To Be Alive. To Breathe.
Idealism Doesn't Serve Me Well.
So We Take That Step. Together.
And The Wind Rises To Welcome.
Weight And Form. Trust And Hope.
A Sheet Of Matter To Slow The Descent.
You And I Share These Wings And Plummet.
Graceful Falling Back To Earth.
I Saw Your Feathers.
I Felt The Flight.
A Prayer To Gaia
Sweet, supple Gaia please hear my voice:
I am not worthy of your unadulterated majesty, your trees, your rivers. I am but a single creature holding so many others within me, and I have spoken these words to ask you for help. Please, glorious Gaia, hold me to your bosom in this period of unraveling; please, ancient Gaia, show me the path towards the ocean so I might swim within your depths. I pray for absolution and mercy, oh great Gaia, for my spine is kinked in the light of my foolish hopefulness.
I ask for this in broken humility; I ask for light in my squalor and decay. I request a rescue, for my own intuition has faltered and failed.
I pray to your creatures, I pray to my self; I pray to your teachers, I pray to your hells.
To the light, the all, the emptiness I pray.
Om Ni Pa Di Om
Amen
I am not worthy of your unadulterated majesty, your trees, your rivers. I am but a single creature holding so many others within me, and I have spoken these words to ask you for help. Please, glorious Gaia, hold me to your bosom in this period of unraveling; please, ancient Gaia, show me the path towards the ocean so I might swim within your depths. I pray for absolution and mercy, oh great Gaia, for my spine is kinked in the light of my foolish hopefulness.
I ask for this in broken humility; I ask for light in my squalor and decay. I request a rescue, for my own intuition has faltered and failed.
I pray to your creatures, I pray to my self; I pray to your teachers, I pray to your hells.
To the light, the all, the emptiness I pray.
Om Ni Pa Di Om
Amen
with words like "I Love You" and other less memorable forgeries
We used to play 'house': I pretended to be the father and sister, you were always the infant's mother and maybe even the infant itself. (so hard to tell now that we've forgotten the rules)
With artistic license we spun around the room hand in hand. We named everything over, as though the craving for reinvention had consumed us wholly. Here's the crib, this is the changing area, and oh yes, we'll make this the dinner table... Wont you stay for coffee Mr. Postman?
We cooked and cleaned, danced and fought, insulted and apologized, slept and woke, cried and consoled, loved and hated; we manifested our fantasy into simultaneous evolutions within ourselves. I became the roles I had spawned to play; you seemed to foster the narrative with similar devotion. The hours became a day, the weeks became a month, the past became the now.
At a certain point along the way, one or both of us forgot the game... all of a sudden we had been married, accepted responsibility, and given in to the finality of this burden. But the game continued, independently from our awareness of its constraints and implications. How were we to prevent the dissolution of our understanding in this actionable shared reality we inhabited?
One night I found that I could no longer hear the infant's cries in my slumber, and I awoke to find my wife nowhere to be found. After calling you too many times, to no avail, I immediately called the imaginary police. An inspector was able to come by in the early morning to take my statement. I was so worried; I remember how badly we had argued the night before and it tore me apart to simply wonder. Before the inspector had finished with me the phone started to vibrate in my pocket. It was you.
I asked if you were all right, and you said that you were. I thanked the officer and showed him the door. I noticed his face as he turned to leave: some bitter mix of understanding and frustration, ending with a slight roll of the eyes because 'he's seen it all before.'
Putting my ear back to the phone, I weakly said hello, asked you where you had gone... You told me that you were ok but didn't speak any further. My heart started to beat a sickeningly fast rhythm in my chest.
After I pressed you about it, I finally got the response I dreaded most: you had spent the night with another man, taking both mother and infant along for the ride. You eventually revealed with icy precision that it had not been the first time, and told me it wouldn't be the last.
"But," you said (and keep saying over and over in my head), "you're the only person I love."
For the first time in my short pitiful life I actually cringed at the word. Love had only been one little part of the game at first; but now, as though it had a life of its own, it rose up to clamp frigid hands around my neck.
I told you that I needed some space, which was the perfect excuse to give me the time to get the divorce paperwork ready. I told you that we needed to figure out what we both wanted.
I, of course, already knew that in two week's time the papers would be signed and you would again be free to live the life that you deserved all along. No battle for custody will likely ensue, and whatever alimony you might owe would surely get lost in the mail...
I hung up the phone and stepped back into what had long served as our quaint little home. The kitchen table now looked oddly like a simple dresser, and the crib seemed to eerily resemble a clothes hamper in the light of this new sunny day. Nothing seemed to be in its right place. I felt sick.
I looked at the bed with sullen longing, remembering that you had given birth to our infant child messily on those very covers. The stain, however, of that most grimy entrance into this world had faded beyond detection.
It began to dawn on me that this had all been pretend: there was no child, no sister, no crib, and no marriage to be found.
The anger began to rattle and quiver in my chest. This was not the first time I'd been fucked over, but it was now clear that it too would not be the last. It all seemed so murky. I sighed deeply and walked over to the window to look down on the sun-soaked revelry that waited outside.
To this day I have no idea what was real and what was not... but what I do know is that next time, I'm gonna play cowboys and indians instead.
With artistic license we spun around the room hand in hand. We named everything over, as though the craving for reinvention had consumed us wholly. Here's the crib, this is the changing area, and oh yes, we'll make this the dinner table... Wont you stay for coffee Mr. Postman?
~
We cooked and cleaned, danced and fought, insulted and apologized, slept and woke, cried and consoled, loved and hated; we manifested our fantasy into simultaneous evolutions within ourselves. I became the roles I had spawned to play; you seemed to foster the narrative with similar devotion. The hours became a day, the weeks became a month, the past became the now.
At a certain point along the way, one or both of us forgot the game... all of a sudden we had been married, accepted responsibility, and given in to the finality of this burden. But the game continued, independently from our awareness of its constraints and implications. How were we to prevent the dissolution of our understanding in this actionable shared reality we inhabited?
- ~ ~ ~ -
One night I found that I could no longer hear the infant's cries in my slumber, and I awoke to find my wife nowhere to be found. After calling you too many times, to no avail, I immediately called the imaginary police. An inspector was able to come by in the early morning to take my statement. I was so worried; I remember how badly we had argued the night before and it tore me apart to simply wonder. Before the inspector had finished with me the phone started to vibrate in my pocket. It was you.
I asked if you were all right, and you said that you were. I thanked the officer and showed him the door. I noticed his face as he turned to leave: some bitter mix of understanding and frustration, ending with a slight roll of the eyes because 'he's seen it all before.'
~
Putting my ear back to the phone, I weakly said hello, asked you where you had gone... You told me that you were ok but didn't speak any further. My heart started to beat a sickeningly fast rhythm in my chest.
After I pressed you about it, I finally got the response I dreaded most: you had spent the night with another man, taking both mother and infant along for the ride. You eventually revealed with icy precision that it had not been the first time, and told me it wouldn't be the last.
"But," you said (and keep saying over and over in my head), "you're the only person I love."
~
For the first time in my short pitiful life I actually cringed at the word. Love had only been one little part of the game at first; but now, as though it had a life of its own, it rose up to clamp frigid hands around my neck.
I told you that I needed some space, which was the perfect excuse to give me the time to get the divorce paperwork ready. I told you that we needed to figure out what we both wanted.
I, of course, already knew that in two week's time the papers would be signed and you would again be free to live the life that you deserved all along. No battle for custody will likely ensue, and whatever alimony you might owe would surely get lost in the mail...
~
I hung up the phone and stepped back into what had long served as our quaint little home. The kitchen table now looked oddly like a simple dresser, and the crib seemed to eerily resemble a clothes hamper in the light of this new sunny day. Nothing seemed to be in its right place. I felt sick.
I looked at the bed with sullen longing, remembering that you had given birth to our infant child messily on those very covers. The stain, however, of that most grimy entrance into this world had faded beyond detection.
It began to dawn on me that this had all been pretend: there was no child, no sister, no crib, and no marriage to be found.
The anger began to rattle and quiver in my chest. This was not the first time I'd been fucked over, but it was now clear that it too would not be the last. It all seemed so murky. I sighed deeply and walked over to the window to look down on the sun-soaked revelry that waited outside.
~
To this day I have no idea what was real and what was not... but what I do know is that next time, I'm gonna play cowboys and indians instead.
Homelessfull
morning is my new sunshine
and I welcome her sultry stare
into my dissolving hesitations.
i live and breath in a freedom of sorts,
i die and decay without shackles at hands;
wash me, feed me, love me, know me,
then push me back out into winter to try again.
and I welcome her sultry stare
into my dissolving hesitations.
i live and breath in a freedom of sorts,
i die and decay without shackles at hands;
wash me, feed me, love me, know me,
then push me back out into winter to try again.
expiration
compassion has been extinguished.
a commodified relationship looms behind me like an impotent ogre,
and communication hangs by a dwindling thread.
a commodified relationship looms behind me like an impotent ogre,
and communication hangs by a dwindling thread.
Pestilence
Too high,
Can’t come down.
Losing my head,
Spinning ‘round and ‘round.
Do you feel me now?
With a taste of your lips,
I’m on a ride;
You're toxic I'm slipping under.
With a taste of a poison paradise:
I’m addicted to you,
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?
-'Toxic', B. Spears
Can’t come down.
Losing my head,
Spinning ‘round and ‘round.
Do you feel me now?
With a taste of your lips,
I’m on a ride;
You're toxic I'm slipping under.
With a taste of a poison paradise:
I’m addicted to you,
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?
-'Toxic', B. Spears
The 19th of December
The summit of aggression and the valley of despair,
my two homes would agree that indeed life just isn't fair.
My heart delves into darkness while my spirit seeks the Sun,
I'm learning rather slowly that they both will die as one.
my two homes would agree that indeed life just isn't fair.
My heart delves into darkness while my spirit seeks the Sun,
I'm learning rather slowly that they both will die as one.
Within the Cosmic Egg
So many mornings awoke within me as we cradled each other in the chill of this winter's wind. The moment felt heavy within this perception that all could be forgotten, like these graceful seconds and minutes nestling inside for warmth might complete us. It was only a game we had forgotten how to play, a riddle we had neglected to solve; but now we have stirred up a different kind of heat as her breathe quickened under my roaming hands.
The taste of honey met the touch of silk. We lay quivering in the stillness of this frigid domicile.
She kissed my cheek. Fingers through hair. Hints of the sunshine to come. Stealing glances through the window at nothing.
The poem I couldn't finish from last night touched the back of my mind for a flash; even now I couldn't help but melt my way down into this embrace. Deeper still, warmer, lips met. She dances flamenco in my dreams like a high priestess in the Order of the Rose. Here and now in the heart of Santa Cruz we danced instead without form or reason, touched gracefully and caressed with bloody sweetness.
Not twelve minutes later we were walking through the steamy streets towards the final stop in this little carnival of our neuroses. We had said our farewells long before, so now we simply walked up the block to the station holding hands. Silence, breathing. Waving as she pulls away. Silence, breathing, walking slowly to my car.
Later, perched over a cup of coffee and cream, I sent her one last text message:
The taste of honey met the touch of silk. We lay quivering in the stillness of this frigid domicile.
She kissed my cheek. Fingers through hair. Hints of the sunshine to come. Stealing glances through the window at nothing.
The poem I couldn't finish from last night touched the back of my mind for a flash; even now I couldn't help but melt my way down into this embrace. Deeper still, warmer, lips met. She dances flamenco in my dreams like a high priestess in the Order of the Rose. Here and now in the heart of Santa Cruz we danced instead without form or reason, touched gracefully and caressed with bloody sweetness.
Not twelve minutes later we were walking through the steamy streets towards the final stop in this little carnival of our neuroses. We had said our farewells long before, so now we simply walked up the block to the station holding hands. Silence, breathing. Waving as she pulls away. Silence, breathing, walking slowly to my car.
Later, perched over a cup of coffee and cream, I sent her one last text message:
"We are but deities
stomping thunder
and blessing rain,
hands to the heavens
grasping the infinite."
Empty cup, silence, breathing, walking slowly to my car. Alone like before, yet somehow bigger... perhaps a mark was left in some hidden crevasse of my stride, or at least I felt righteous. Silence, breathing.
Currency
If money is your God then I cannot repent,
I'm counting up my misery in dollars and cents.
True, no other sacrifice is so clearly disabling,
but if cash is king
then what I bring
is lost promptly to labeling.
I'm counting up my misery in dollars and cents.
True, no other sacrifice is so clearly disabling,
but if cash is king
then what I bring
is lost promptly to labeling.
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