May 25, 2007

shushing the din

oh hush now....let it mellow
we need those ripples
chaos serves the purpose
else life would be forever placid
and vastly reflective

and touch?
though heated at first
must cool
a pot left to boil overlong
is left dry and carbonized
a mummified rendition
of a once lively bubble
warned, expected....then departed

and yes,
the loss is perpetual
ever echoing
in our unconditional pursuit
of the shedding of our reptilian skin
when the temperature is just right
we all do it
on that slippery path to shelter

a dip in the pool

you claim not to care
that nothing nor anyone can touch your inner core
that you are inviolate, shuttered, hard as ice

yet with four simple words....
the ripples shred your demeanor

for you see....
you transcend understanding
you defend the sacrifices
you comprehend forgiveness

with just four simple words
spoken softly, almost unnoticed
as they slip into the waters

......but i loved her

curious eddies

the dance of the flies
that necessary movement
in the enneagramic rhythm
of soul-less dogs

your "I" has called
dwelling first on grins
stretched wide over bone
then the graves, look down

the moon
she has eaten her fill
they are forgotten now
As it should be
As it will be
Blessed be

in that spotlight called 'Alive'….
there is no shade from intent
attention will always be given
to those in-different

the hypnotist, on an egotistical high
decides to play 'god/dog' one fine day
"You are dead" he says
to the willing, smiling sycophant
"you no longer exist......cease"

wouldn't this be a fine show to watch?
the beauteous thrashing
of a bewildered, self-loathing spirit?

an accidental enjoyment out of nowhere
is a prize worth relishing
do not feel guilt for being caught
it is never foolish to halt and view
do not systemically silence the wound

Idiots are there for the world's

we flinch
are reminded….

we shriek
are defiant…

we are but feral-bytes
for the thousand mouths
that devour luck
round every deep eddy
of emotion

confidence won't help
neither will awe
simply accept and triangulate
the mending comes with it's own
inevitable price....
a curious odor of trust

blistered errands

tiptoe across that blistered field
do not disturb said occupants
the waves generated
when you trip the sand's withered hairs
will evacuate into a tsunamic
blast of loathing
i do not care for you
i don't even acknowledge your
most would ponder your
reasons for space
some would question even your right
i on the other hand
refuse to give you one micronic itch
of satisfaction
why should i?
i've come back across that field
littered with the disposable carcasses
of novices on fool's errands
can you say the same?

fade out....

....fade in

slowly, there is focus


where am i
who am i
what am....wait

one minute
there is nothing
the next....

the surroundings are always the same
but how do i know this?
a wall floats up out of....
and shapes
round....clock? do i KNOW this?
ugliness, those colors....wha....what is color?

a pause
what else can one do?
one? ONE?! what
should i/who/what panic?

then it slowly floods back
a room

but for one second there
i could have been....what?
if something else,
different set of datum had received my focus
would i have still faded into me?