Awareness

Awareness

I’m starting to feel more

And more the alien

And I wonder what took so long,

Because I am glad in here,

Like this,

But I am quite alone

And unfortunately for me

Loneliness is not a trend.

I have a hankering for

Life and all it has to offer,

Not just the mediocre norm,

But more,

All of it,

Every morsel,

Every wavelength…

I am the sophisticated wolf yet

I feel sorry for the sheep

And so my appetite is spoiled

And I find myself constantly bored.

I worry, then wonder,

Then I wonder why I worry.

I am objective like the compass

And the constellations,

I’m the overwhelming adverb,

I’m the doorbell and the question mark…

When I am down I’m my realist,

When I am up the world is an

Indescribable beauty.

(and I like to describe things)

I am the phoenix incinerated

And wiser, reborn and

Refreshed yet ever aware.

I am lost in the sanctity of life

And every direction they seem to point me

In leads to the evil…

So I just float,

I adhere to the moment,

I bathe in the glory that is this,

And I never forget the poor little sheep.

I will never forget the lost little sheep.

I know that their Shepard is 

Really the butcher,

Cleverly masked

In the innocence of the Machine,

But I’ve witnessed the greed,

That oh so fatal flaw,

And once I figure out how to destroy the butcher…

I will.

7/6/4

Not Distracted

Not Distracted

Point.

I lost the way of humanity through reason.

I’m still breathing,

I think that I’m still alive,

But it’s hard to tell in the distraction 

Of hundreds of thousands of you's,

All them their own individual strain of chaos,

Explosively depreciating our species

In the name of its own disintegrating presence.

I’ll fade like the 

Dawn and sunset,

Yet these questions will always be asked,

In many fashions of the way.

Why?

Truth.

Why?

Well, If I wanted my own disillusion,

I would have been a heroine addict,

But the here and now of the presence that is me

Said you are a fake.

You can not distract me you fucker of humanity,

I am immune from your concentrated conception of ignorance.

Counterpoint.

Final Recession

Final Recession

The tides receded rather gratefully from the punishing dark

Into a phosphorescent glow of the light.

When not in debt, worry never exceeds

Natural limits, only selection, and

The girl then can not break the weakening

Fortress that is your heart.

A mind cleared of drama is a mind worth thinking with..

9/24/2002

Caring

Caring

I wonder if she cares…

So hard to tell through the silence,

Or actually the indifference.

I feel like that split second of

Shock right as someone scares you,

But instead of a split second, I’m frozen

In that instant, floating, pondering, and

In the end reveling in the fact.

I’ll wonder and wait, imagining and hoping,

Patiently balancing the sides of this limbo.

I just wonder if she cares.

6/28/4

12:31am

Candisius

Candisius

Ghostly and Delicious

In black and red and silver too

Such mirrored thoughts

TorturedEnflamedScarred

And pissed off too…

Sacred to me.

One blood?

Perhaps in another experience…

Another lifetimes’ witful calling.

Obscure is our distance of body,

Exact is the pinpoint of mind.

Another of life’s’ trivial prose?

Whether the answer simple or no the question must still be put forth.

Strive on my ponderous mate…

Fore we are in the same tunnel,

You’re just a little further behind…

By birth

I am waiting,

Together we can fly…

1998

Lonely Infection

Lonely Infection

A massage made me this way, a portrait to nothing unparticular.

I’ll see y’all next life, next accent, next form of the “new” language, next form of this life.

Why can’t we be free and appreciate life now is the antagonized cry of the assistant’s child…

Where is my master?!

Life Interrupted

Life Interrupted

Hated and played,

Raped and betrayed.

Simple, not strong,

And I play not along.

I enter my the mysteries, 

I hurt from inside

Tonight. This fright

In my life is exploited,

Anointed. I’m him.

Love?

Not again. The same sing burning.

Inner yearning is mild and tired

Defiled, admired.

In my own right

I’m tired,

Can’t fight or think or look

So I sink with ink into the book.

Into the void, reflection destroyed.

Nothings intact, yet the rush had my back.

Life,

Interrupted…

My souls been corrupted

For better or good.

I live my way

Through the day

Like I think that I should.

6/6/2000

My Piece of Peace

My Piece of Peace

Around another curve,

Another stuttering apostrophe.

Self-destruction is how I measure the time,

And so I think that I might really be happy.

I am happy I see the misery of this existence,

I am not happy it is there, just happy that I see it.

I am glad I’ve let it infect and eventually

Control and become me,

Because now I am that misery,

And knowing is my happiness;

My peace.

Now a truly filtered day of reckoning for my soul.

I know that I no longer have anything to lose,

And this is my freedom,

This is what all of you,

As the complete organism of ignorance you apparently long to be,

Can never take away from me.

And so I finally laugh freely…

9-8-4

Little Room

Little Room

Hearts, eloquence,

A lock of dead pink hair

For company.

Stuck in my little room,

Me and your pictures and my thoughts.

A daydream occurs…

With the wind through our hair and

Our arms locked around our waist,

We lift weightlessly off the ground.

Rising toward the heavens, sinless and brave,

We cast off our bodies for the masses of power and greed,

Spirit again, the plan is once more ours to reveal,

Unmistakable in this form, impossible to the flesh.

Impossible to the flesh…

I awake in a sweat, still half entranced,

But I see your dead pink hair and remember

Who and what I am… but I can’t remember  

The plan, and all I can feel is this flesh.

It’s hot so I strip and look around my tiny little room for a comfort that doesn’t exist here.

I lay on the ground and stare at the ceiling, picturing your face in the texture

Of the walls. I wish that my room had a 

Door or even a window, fore I so miss

The blue of the skies

(the blue of your eyes)

the air is thick here and I remember the

freedom of weightlessness,

the intrigue of being complete.

I bloom from within and a realization

Slaps me surprisingly across the soul.

The room can not hold me, because there is no room.

There is only this plan…

Attending Suffrage

Attending Suffrage

I suffer you all, and I thank you profusely.

All the days of my life are dotted with your lives,

Your furies.

The blindness of the ways,

Imploring your attendance,

Measuring your acceptance,

And then finally striking.

A distracting millisecond that changes everything.

Now life is different.

You notice the attendance grows evermore,

So many with your striking resemblance,

So many with your open point of view.

“Never a cynic”, he says, “always a reverberation of the truth.”

The true truth, as if there could be some other…

I was told the world was conquered by distraction.

Sport. Drink. Pornography.

Meanwhile they talked us in to being slaves for comfort,

Then they outsourced and said, 

“you know what slave?  We’ve found us cheaper slaves.

So now we crack gigantically reckless champagne bottles,

Because it seems that we have ourselves a war.

Super tremendous,

Now the country’s Ego is up.

What sweet, true, Babylonian wisdom.

Watch it, and it surrounds you,

Evoking your every image 

Of what is real.

What is…

Factual, tainted, lies, you-thought-was-factual, more lies, more tainting,

Unspoken, mirthful, yet… vibrant,

Beautiful, hungry, alone, all factual,

Lost, un-forgiven, still formidable,

Loose, contradictory, you;

In confinement.

Of Spirit? Soul?

Listlessness.

Preoccupied impotence.

Another sense of noverythings.

Just for you, or whoever, really.

What is clever

But lurid, insipid, correspondent.

The ever looming figure of control

Staring you straight in the eye?

Your occupation stands rigid,

Upright,

Eye to eye,

Always apologetically in the right.

Sorry, we’re just doing our duty,

Thanks,

Because I really don’t completely despise the chains,

Especially since you were in the wrong,

Constitutionally speaking,

You FUCK!

Oh, I mean…

You gentle lamb.

Since time sped up,

And your evolution didn’t,

You wouldn’t be that figure, adamant as the times were.

You had to fit in, 

Your outrageousness really made you wonder why the others really didn’t take to you.

Justice, preached the egg and sperm donors.

Be all you can be, no matter what, or else.

And he thought that we might have to start thinking for

Ourselves,

Ones-self,

Each others’ selves.

As long as the totals count,

Twenty three with a pair or

Two or more, more.

The next step is…

Imagination without contempt,

You’ve seen it all,

It’s all there,

So why would you have to think about that?

That’s why there are people in charge,

For our comfort…

Yet the lower-caste have never exulted itself around true comfort.

They just reach and dream, and pray for it,

Doing nasty little self-preserving pieces of everyday nothings to do something to promote ones’ self.

Yet what if really, we were just the manifestation of God?

One day it dawned on him that all energy was related, 

No matter what they looked round and found,

But they kept on finding it until they were stroked into nothingness.

Where is the one, clear in his judgment,

Silently leading?

Where is the man that most can’t see?

What a treat.

I thank them for the sufferings.

I thank you for an extremely vague nod of approval.

They all learn me in one way or another,

They learn me up real good,

Yet you learn me subtractively,

Ever submissive, ever true.,

Ever doing cartwheels around the sands of reality.

Awestruck like the dying parasite,

Ever languishing over the food source, 

Mixing celebration with religion,

Patriotism with comfort,

Life, with evil.

f1n15h3d

Finished

Like a space monkey you

Threw yourself at me,

Hampering to my every whim…

Now you want to threaten me with anger

And a suffocation that no longer even ghosts my radar.

I know the last thing that I should do is laugh,

But I can’t imagine any other way to react

In this state of mind.

It is my fault, of course.

I should have left you the little sister

You had always been to me.

You do need a big brother,

And I don’t need the drama,

It’s hard to even think about this for lack of worth,

And so I am finished with it,

And you.

latmehgo35

Let Me Go

We should talk about God more,

Fore God is the unknown,

The dry alcoholic,

The penniless man.

I feel the heavy hand right now,

But I am still correct.

I’ve spent all my virtuous acts

On the self depreciating fact of truth.

No one here wants it, they are all caught up in what little they have.

What is intellectual freedom?

They laugh at me.

What is your story?

They say,

What is your point?

Yet I think that I am smart enough to know that there isn’t a point.

There is only love,

And it keeps us still, 

But we can’t go on like this forever,

So go ahead and drive faster,

Just don’t let me go.

Hoa1V3m1553DU

How I’ve Missed You

She is back. 

She is back in my heart, throbbing. 

I am afraid.

I am exhilarated. 

I am terrified.

I feel guilt from two instances of the soul.

I can not answer questions.

The ground fell out.

I am losing control.

Everything is different now.

I am different now.

In one fraction of an instant,

The road is corrupted.

I am blind.

That rare subtle peace of mind is gone.

I am once again tortured.

I threw you away. 

I am playing with souls, while choking my own.

My voice is lost, my backbone bent dysfunctionally.

The block is gone;

My fate is altered and deterred.

I feel helpless, yet driven.

Insanity!

Fuck!

Gh05tuv3hD0u8t

Ghost of a Doubt

Goodbye.

The starlet is born.

Pray for a way,

But please don’t go.

I couldn’t be a hoot without you.

So this is a plea,

Not necessarily a bargain,

But a necessary means, 

For a necessary means.

Continuance,

A certain way of knowing,

Of ever questioning the controlling point.

So who’s in attendance?

I’ve waited for the day,

Day after day,

Mostly alone, 

Yet never in vain,

Insecurely,

We entertain the pain,

And I walk now entrapped,

Reduced to a grain,

Of sugar or salt,

Toss sand of over shoulder,

Time comes to a halt,

Yes, it is all of my fault,

Because my hearts in the vault

Of one who takes the situation lightly,

So flighty,

So frighteningly so.

I Love how Scars Disappear

I Love how Scars Disappear

Forested and properly shelved,

It’s just a long awakening,

Confusing and fun,

Ground zero never felt so good.

Recovered treasures brighten days

And bring tears for old friends.

New councils smooth over scars with gentle ease.

The sun shines brightly on this cloudless night.

Yet the evening breeze reminds cautiously…

Nothing stays the same.

Observe our changes…

It reminds me cheerfully…

All I want to do is live.

Rape

Rape

America was a virgin

And then capitalism fucked it

And it became a whore.

You’re the designer of your own chaos,

Yes, it is prettily set up,

Yet you’re still the actor,

You reach and pull,

Touch and take advantage,

Disrupt and misqualify,

All for your own impression of

Good.

So live your life,

Every one and body,

Individually soaking it in separately,

Blindly, hiddenly, forbiddingly.

But fate is here with the truth,

You, and I,

 Are tools,

In a worthless, self-appreciating cause,

A smack in the face,

A complete failure of the vain at hand.

This is the way, they say,

That will get me shot, 

But I figure you’ve already killed me in too many other ways.

Beauty is the Essence of the Word

Beauty is the Essence of the Word

Beauty is the question you asked your lover in jest, knowing it would call shock from that person and, in turn, make them blush.  Beauty is the feeling of stepping outside the apartment in the morning , and feeling the warmth of the sun, knowing that same warmth is part of the energy that makes everything be.  Beauty is nature, all it brings out in you (the individual), and all it brings out in your spirit.  Beauty is your spirit, the beautiful image of reality, redefined, and put into the flesh, your flesh, for a life for you to look at subjectively, and choose for yourself.  Beauty is the definition of any instant that we know of through science, whatever makes whatever a fact, a scientific description of what we hold dear, the physics of things, if you will…

Beauty is the imagination of our beings, imaginations create, dreamers adhere to the call.  In the end we are all dreamers, dreaming a reality of ourselves with meaning to it.  Everyday life is meaning, and beauty creates every bit of it…

Just like you create meaning for me.

Capitalism

Capitalism 

(for jim c)

money…

my enemy in this world, my nemesis.

This is the idea in this world that everyone is addicted to;

Money.

Money does not possess me, because I have no urge to control people,

I have no urge for power.

I consider myself an artist,

And my art is all that I need in this world.

I do not create my art for money;

I create art for life.

Life is all that any of us truly need, 

And life is what so few of us truly possess.

Money is an instrument of control, wielded by the powers that be…

The POWERS that be.

We will never be a civilized planet,

Together,

United,

Whilst this silly idea of money perceives.

I call it an idea because there is no standard;

There is no backing to this faulted truth.

Unfortunately, we just accept the control.

A question:

If an alien race were ever to contact us,

Could anyone actually,

Truly believe,

That this race would have any way of understanding the idea of money?

(unless they were slave traders of course)

I think not.

We are the Human species,

And money separates every single one of us from one another.

I believe in the mind,

And my mind laughs at this childish idea of money.

Money traps us in the physical,

Where I laugh alone.

10/19/2002

Faith in Intensity

Faith in Intensity

A punitive contradiction,

A burrowed conscience-ness,

Stained reflex and guilty tidings

Displease and ill-frequent,

Shunning madness by a portion of a thought,

A mere fraction of an idea.

Intensity;

Adversary of boredom,

My faithful friend,

Hear my pitiful cry,

My faithful scream.

I evoke thee,

Withstanding,

With trusting soul,

Without ego…

Engulf me?

My will is yours.

Damned Festering Curiosity

Damned Festering Curiosity 

A festering curiosity… not a broken soul, 

Her crush deludes me, eyes destined to look and blend.

Fevered penance – Organized trip

Plummeting into an alley of dreams and haunted scapes.

Whose darkened reflection illicits punitive freedom at such an awesome price,

Delinquently, Aged, and Intending?

I stare with contempt, condemningly, intently, and the rage envelopes accordingly, 

Lucidity drains, 

And the light discontinues…

Upstairs the shade skims and darts, tearing the vinyl,

Offing the current of fresh air called sanity with a polluted cause and befouled effect…

Such a festering curiosity.

A Certain Sort of Freedom

A Certain Sort of Freedom

I know that I could not ever possibly

Be satisfied in this lifetime.

Yet I am pretty sure that I have a lot of

Time left to do a lot of good.

I know that the evil is everywhere and

I know it affects me,

But the good keeps it real,

I want to fight because I know that I am right,

No drama, just truth,

It touches me,

It changed me

For the best.

Now I am what I always wanted to be…

Real.

My mind is sharp yet the paths

It weaves are extremely hooked,

Positively sliced,

Pulling for a full circle,

Pulling for a certain justice,

Tugging for a certain sort of freedom…

7/6/4

Circus of Fleas

Circus of Fleas

I have filthy hands and nails from digging through out the shit of existence.

My fault and problem,

My disorder,

My ever-searching mind.

The truth is out, yet know one cares.

The truth is out, but the leash of control keeps laughing, 

Knowing I see through it, and who it is.

Knowing my circles and screams mean nothing to a world of fools.

And so I no longer worry about the Dog,

I just wonder about its’ fleas.

7/2002

Endless Endings

Endless Endings

The endings around here never really end;

The just go on defensively, 

Stupidly,

Always supporting themselves and their mundane interest.

They think they are crafty when really,

They are shadows of their own unwillingness to see truer colors,

Or any other aspect other than their own.

Sometimes they are young, sometimes they are aged,

Always they are impossible and belligerent,

Senseless beings languishing in their own pride…

These,

Are the Masses,

And the narrative, seemingly continues.

Curious Candor

Curious Candor

A golden light!

The young dawn whispers befittingly.

Long meandering rays of light,

An eternal glow,

Almost fictitious to my senses.

What beauty is this? What trivial fruits?

What curious candor…

I frequent these conceptions relentlessly,

Endlessly…

Into the hallow void I dream the light to fill.

To take the edge of this mental scythe,

This rusted sickle.

I implore this glowing muse of dawn.

Of my dawn…

You have a name that sings

And the gentle smile of the mild midmorning dew.

I dream unceasingly, to love incessantly,

Uninterruptedly.

Momentum

Momentum

Underneath skin once tortured,

A light footed arousal

Whispers frothingly into

An essence of twice-hidden joy.

Splendor.

Your touch stained me entirely,

I feel it still,

A glowing sensation,

Warm and precious,

Pressing my soul into a fit of orchestrated illustration;

Finally, a point.

What possibilities stew and banter

In this new spring of vision?

Always forth coming is the spiral,

And intent likens situation

More favorable when momentum is positive.

October 2004

Perfect Wonder

Perfect Wonder

Wounded is the trance…

The predictability zigged, instead of wanderingly zagging.

A reformulation of the mystery,

Making once again, the unknown that lurking shadow further down the hall.

I urge for the exit.

Thoughts mix and reflect like a hand me down,

Festering the blankness of innocence,

Or perhaps the lack thereof?

To know me is to wonder,

To wonder is to perfect.

Not Distracted

Not Distracted

Point.

I lost the way of humanity through reason.

I’m still breathing,

I think that I’m still alive,

But it’s hard to tell in the distraction 

Of hundreds of thousands of you's,

All them their own individual strain of chaos,

Explosively depreciating our species

In the name of its own disintegrating presence.

I’ll fade like the 

Dawn and sunset,

Yet these questions will always be asked,

In many fashions of the way.

Why?

Truth.

Why?

Well, If I wanted my own disillusion,

I would have been a heroine addict,

But the here and now of the presence that is me

Said you are a fake.

You can not distract me you fucker of humanity,

I am immune from your concentrated conception of ignorance.

Counterpoint.

Pyscho

Psycho

And so you thought I was psycho.

Was it the depth of my eyes?

My quiet demeanor?

My disgustapated sighs?

Or the fact that I don’t smile

Except when it is true?

Smile completely,

Like when I am looking at you?

Fact is I don’t know 

And it kills me to reflect

Because I have to be me

I wouldn’t change or recheck,

The way I was towards you,

 I just gave you my heart,

Truth is I love you more,

Though you made choice to depart.

So I’ll go on without you,

In sadness and in truth, 

Because no words can explain,

This love that needs proof.

I’ll always be here for you,

Though I doubt that you’ll call,

Perhaps I’m just psycho,

Such conclusions I draw.

Something they call Time

Something they call Time

Departure;

A melancholy, cumbersome deal.

I look around,

I feel your closeness,

I will never leave it.

Return is eminent, love foretells it.

Time now ticks for me.

Truth Seeker Star

TruthSeekerStar

Whether the answer simple or no, the question must still be put forth.

I danced with the trickiest of questions,

The unmentionable,

Floating for years in a meta-physical madness,

Searching for answers that were always there in my heart,

Always right there on the surface of our shimmering souls.

As you drifted into womanhood, and I floated away,

It seems I lost your trust, and your heart just the same.

I paid no attention and lost you in the tunnel.

I won’t say that you quit waiting, you went on living like you could only do.

So now I’ve slowed down my masochistic ways

And taken a foreign step outside the spiral.

I see you through the distance, still ghostly, still delicious, 

Yet so grown.

My only question is, are you now the mentor?

Or where you always the mentor?

1*6*9

The Strangers Hand

The Strangers Hand

With fluid-like friendliness,

The stranger held her small,

Luminescent hand to Chance;

Her immortal mentor.

With Chaos spitefully at her back,

And Enlightenment few categories away,

She ponders past battles,

And the worth of it all.

Chance speaks to her randomly

And with ease,

Riddling gently and pushing her away.

Awareness brightens eyes,

And calls to her confidant, 

Hope, her ally through integrity.

Together, the road re-awakens,

Calling forth,

Patient and wise.

A satchel of candles for light,

The journey then resumes…

Whimpering Femme

Whimpering Femme

The narrative continues frothingly, etching mad

Media with plausible sovereignty.  As the world

Marches defunct, a benumbed orphan cries

Unnoticed.  She is the hope of the intended,

Fathered by intellect, nurtured by wisdom,

Abandoned by time, whimpering, alone.  With

Tears of my own glimmering, impelling their own 

Course, I saunter to her cry, bringing her to my being…

Day called Today

A Day called Today

Reaching through my anger to possess a certain sight,

Engulfed, entrapped, entertained through millions of seconds of thousands of days, 

All for a paycheck and a fist full of disappointment.

Constantly tired and on the verge of tears,

Separated from this multitude of senseless beings, 

Forever destroying themselves, for always knowing all.

Innocence is ignorance.

Truth is Energy.

I am a wrist, cut with a blade, gushing all my blood,

Losing all my life,

To all of you.

No one could keep up, being all too busy running circles around certain nothings.

Now we are lost and the mermaid decided to no longer care.

Such, is my pain.