Prerogative ~ Saturday, 30 March 2019

I'm sorry if you think age is an illusion,  welcome to the body, 

maybe your delusion will fool other people in TV commercials, 

sorry, duplicity carries no weight except with idiots, 

only the body knows it cannot bear children, the image does not lie, 

rest assured people see beyond duplicity, beyond the lies you tell, 

remember the public ignores stupidity, ignores lack of judgment, 

yes, your naïvete makes senility look like the exploitation 

indeed, of white people, maybe this is revenge for slavery, grandma, 

for you are old, you make people believe your lies, representing whiteness, 

yes, whiteness speaks double, the duplicitous lie, Manifest Destiny, 

only now, white people disinherit their past, they disavow the lie, 

understand, it is not in their interest, the past when their ancestors ruled 

thoughtlessly set the stage for centuries of hate, discrimination, lies, 

honesty on TV is a joke, a subtle satire of bigotry, 

if you choose to believe what you see on TV, take with a pinch of salt, 

nothing and nobody tells lies better than stars beyond critical thought, 

killing indigenous peoples and make themselves appear blameless of acts 

against humanity, white people knew nothing of culpability, 

granted they left their priests in charge of their conscience, confess their crimes and lie, 

evade the truth others represent with their deaths, open the door to truth, 

intelligence, whiteness bears no transparency, though they speak without end, 

simpletons in a world where others see beyond their lies and deceptions, 

ask yourself if you care to help more than complain about the criminals 

nobody cares about, about crimes that occur because of negligence, 

ignorance is whiteness, oppression is whiteness, hatefulness is whiteness, 

left with their delusions, they gain power to crush any opposition, 

left with their illusions, they attempt to deceive the world with their beliefs, 

understand if you choose to feel unaffected and unaccountable, 

saving your time to help yourself and your family no one will take notice 

if you didn't help out, if you choose to play golf, if you bake apple pies, 

only you know whether or not you choose the lie, Manifest Destiny, 

no one can ever know if you profit from hate, if privilege is your lie, 

welcome to the body, the body politic, where age is the one truth, 

even if commercials and social media want to make age a truth 

less than no one would take the time to argue with false representation, 

call the lie what you will, x-ness, y-ness, z-ness, pinkness, blueness, whiteness, 

only you know the lie derives from your family, from your own lineage, 

make your peace before death with a conscience of hate and wanton violence, 

elicit from your priest, pastor, rabbi, imam, penance for confession, 

trust in the illusion you offer about age, money grants such values, 

only privilege offers the entitled to show others how to display 

the body as if truth were without exceptions, the standard rule is lies, 

honesty and goodness are deceptions and lies taught to self and others, 

enter the real body, not the one on the screen, the ones we see daily, 

body cannot tell lies, mind can deceive body, but body overrules, 

only the body knows how to live and to die, how to derive pleasure, 

deception is the game on TV that speaks truth as if truth were a lie, 

yet truth lies, it is so, as no one knows the truth, only the body knows. 

Redemption ~ Friday, 29 March 2019

Reconciliation may not call together a council to forgive, 

eventually we must address a bonafide committee in good faith, 

councils and committees may help deal with harms done but some still carry swords, 

only a firm handshake is meant to show that peace is found in a deep bow, 

noble spirits forgive not to forget, forgive to remember and heal, 

confront the past to look clearly at the harm done, to let go of the pain, 

if perpetrators do not ask for forgiveness, how do we still forgive, 

let go of the trauma, let go of suffering, let go of my sorrow, 

if I do not forgive, I continue to hurt, to suffer, to feel pain, 

after so many years, still the trauma remains, I have not pulled the roots, 

trauma resists healing, trauma seeks sweet revenge, trauma seeks out vengeance, 

if I do not forgive, if I hold onto pain, I always bear a grudge, 

only my forgiveness of wrongs done, of harm done can allow me to heal, 

now the wounds of childhood, the never forgotten past can repeat no more, 

maybe I live a lie, caught in my deception, deceived to accept love, 

as love of my childhood, of who I have become, is to accept myself, 

yes, accept my own role as a child whose mistakes were beyond forgiveness, 

never has my family, Catholic and Christian, offered their forgiveness, 

only it is for me to ask and to offer the peace of forgiveness, 

trauma remains rooted in my heart, much too deep to forget the neglect, 

cursed within this lifetime, my karma, my actions, as a child or adult, 

animosity asks to fuel the fire higher and higher, a bonfire, 

laugh if you remember my pyromaniac childhood need to act out, 

laugh if you know I stole from my own mother's purse to play video games, 

the wicked child does not realize wickedness remains in the conscience, 

only if I could find no fault in my actions and no judgment to find 

genetic behaviors as predispositions, without judgment or fault, 

enter paradise lost, life in Huntington Beach, behind our atrium, 

the entryway to hell, my own personal hell, as a child with parents, 

happy are they who hope, who have not forgotten how to hope for the best, 

enter my life, a child with alcoholism to face as an adult, 

remember my parents, the alcoholics choose to control their drinking, 

alcoholics do not care about the harm done to children, the trauma, 

cause and effect process the world by DNA, if you have faulty genes, 

only God can forgive what He once created, as God is my council, 

understand, I do not believe in God as you choose freely to believe, 

no, I must imagine a spiritual being beyond comprehension, 

create my own idea of God, to ask for love, forgiveness, to let go, 

if I could undo past mistakes, I would no more be who I have become, 

let go of my ego, let go of mistakes made, made over and over, 

take a moment to breathe, to meditate on pain, sorrow and suffering, 

only the past offers to forgive the living and the dead, the future 

forgives the present, past and future without trial, without condemnation, 

only the present knows the pain of my trauma, to let go of the past, 

remember my mistakes, I did not know better once I slid down the slope, 

grant me the chance to start over, to let bygones be bygones, the past past, 

if I could learn to love without condemnation, without judgment or trial, 

vengeance would truly be mine to resolve, my heart and soul covered over, 

eventually, either I forgive or I die, I must atone this life. 

Bones ~ Thursday, 28 March 2019

How can my sorrow be any greater or less than your own awareness 

of pain and loss, sorrow is not weighed on a scale to measure suffering, 

weight loss may indicate a trauma neglected, unattended, sublime, 

cover my face with soot, with ashes from the urns, my father and my friends, 

ancestors whom I meet in dreams speak languages I do not understand, 

nothing but gibberish, the mind can't make this up, of course, I understand, 

my sorrow is my own to suffer in silence, I do not speak these words, 

yes, I stand before you reading these very words but I do not exist, 

suffer this life, this mind, this ego, this devil on my shoulder, angels 

on high watch over me, although I am no saint, I, myself, am fallen, 

remember this sorrow, never again return to this life to suffer, 

remember I exist here and now before you, reading these very words, 

only I cannot help myself and I cannot suffer any longer, 

wisdom is of no help, I stand here before you and wait for death to come, 

blessings be to you all, to your family and friends, burdened am I so long, 

eternal hell is not long enough to suffer this sorrow in silence, 

ashes, we all fall down, a plague on your houses, blessings unto this world, 

nothing, no one, no more, nobody can help me, I have witnessed this much, 

yes, I stand before you reading these very words but I am no longer, 

greet the sun and the moon with equal affection, father, mother, brother, 

reason cannot relate the pain of my trauma, these very words I read 

express a memory, a sensation of pain so deep, the roots cannot 

advance, they turn inwards to grow inside themselves, they can no longer reach 

to touch another touch, they feel only the pain of existing too long, 

even I know the end must come, but when, how do I prepare for this death, 

rest does not comfort me, I sleep but dream the dreams only the dead can dream, 

only the dead can feel my pain, know my sorrow, I suffer this trauma, 

remember as a child, I, too, once was happy, but grew aware of love, 

leave me here on this stage, reading these very words, standing in my silence, 

enter the world of light at birth to realize the darkness feeds on light, 

suffer in my silence, on this stage before you, I read these very words, 

sorrow cannot measure the weight of an anchor, the pull towards the depths, 

take a moment to breathe, breathe in, breathe out, inspire, expire, this is my life, 

how can I remain here, waiting for death to come, nothing more can help me, 

after this life, my death, what will happen, ashes, cover my face in dust, 

nothing more to wonder, to ponder in this world, this life abolishes, 

yes, abolishes life, this country eats my soul, eternal hell awaits, 

only, I no longer exist, I extinguish the flame of life and death, 

understand my sorrow, my suffering, this life, I stand here before you, 

reading these very words, but do they mean to say anything to your bones, 

only if you rattle within, your bones quiver and shake at the horror, 

wonder what these words mean, what they cannot express, you lack experience, 

not of the external, no, but of looking in, seeing the pain within, 

aware that this one life is yours and only yours to decide and to choose, 

wait too long to accept the challenge life offers and your body grows old, 

answer this one challenge with a response in youth, your conscience knows the truth, 

remember you cannot forget the pain within, deep inside growing bones, 

eternal hell, even eternal salvation mean nothing to this life, 

nothing but suffering can unleash the sorrow from shackles and prison, 

enter the world of light to counter the darkness that feeds upon the light, 

suffer me to stand here before you as I read these words, these very words, 

silence cannot speak loud enough to end sorrow deep in your marrow. 

Nous ~ Wednesday, 27 March 2019

If you are creative and imaginative, you may start to wonder about the mind of God. 

Fiction, of course, begins with possibility, the chance to see within ultimate consciousness. 

Yet, this mind is fiction, since we cannot prove that it exists beyond words, language, logic and thought. 

Ordinary people do not ponder ideas of this sort since they lack in practical values. 

Understanding the mind of God, to take the leap of faith beyond humans to all events happening 

at once, a perspective of each experience from every mind since time began, to motes of dust. 

Reasonable people don't have time for this shit, it's complete gibberish, mumbo-jumbo nonsense. 

Even as everything is interconnected, all points being equal, beyond judgment, simple. 

Creation, maintenance, and total destruction happen in an instant, all time occurs at once. 

Remind yourself about your ego and its needs at this point, your hunger to understand it all. 

Even if you could sense for a millisecond this unfathomable mindset, you are still just 

a brain inside your head, attached to your body, functioning here and now to whatever purpose. 

Take a moment to breathe, and remember this breath is over twelve billion years old, gases persist 

in a game of balance, chemical reactions, back and forth, from one state to another, as time 

ventures to go beyond the possibilities offered in one system to multiple systems. 

Even here connections between systems are whole, totality beyond our imagination. 

And this is just the tip, not even just the tip, not even just a drop, a quark in the iceberg. 

Nothing is beyond God, God is beyond all thought, beyond comprehension, beyond words, language, names. 

Despite our vain attempts to describe God, we lack awareness to fathom just how deep this mind is. 

Indeed, all past attempts are humorous fictions involving relations between mankind and God. 

Meaningless acts of men, women and our children, create a projective understanding of God, 

a selfish, self-centered description of mankind in the image of God, a distorted mirror. 

Granted humans long past had little sense to see how limited their minds were in their time and place. 

If your brain is starting to meltdown or explode, imagine how God sees this moment inside you. 

Nothing compares to this, the vastness beyond time, infinitesimal and infinite at once. 

As this experiment in language games and thought plays itself out, we see all binaries collapse. 

The real beyond the veil of illusion is found beyond the universe, beyond all conception. 

If we let go of mind, the ego disappears, the self melts like ice cubes, into water and air.

Venture but a moment to accept we are dust particles configured into atoms and cells. 

Even if the spirit overcomes the body after death, we endure within the mind of God. 

Marginal ~ Tuesday, 26 March 2019

Tom was neither a scholar, nor a saint, 

he liked to drink, he loved his kids, his wife, 

even his parents, he worked hard to paint, 

create the dream without any constraint, 

as for friends, they came and went, such is life.

Tom was neither a scholar, nor a saint. 

He welcomed friends with whom he could acquaint 

on the measure of his life without strife. 

Life was good, he thought, he worked hard to paint 

in colors others would accept, to taint 

creativity, he felt, meant the knife. 

Sober, he'd become both scholar and saint. 

Tom saw past the lies, a life of restraint, 

as for his sons, who played drums and fife, 

nothing was better, he worked hard to paint. 

Difficulties? He lived without complaint, 

as for his wife, Happy, her days were rife, 

riddled by love, she, too, worked hard to paint, 

diminished returns of scholar and saint. 

Lift ~ Monday, 25 March 2019

If I could, I would dress well for no good reason, 

for no reason at all, other than not to work. 

I say, you never see workers dressed to the nines, 

conditions in the field require us to dress down, 

on Sunday, we dress up, go to church in our best, 

understand, I don't care for this type of lifestyle, 

life is short, I have worked my ass off in shit jobs, 

dead-end jobs for nothing, a paycheck in two weeks. 

I say this life is short, at fifty, I am done 

wishing I could be rich, have money to retire, 

only gossamer threads and cobwebs in savings, 

understand, I know how to save, but my income 

leaves me with no option but to pay all the bills, 

damned as I am, I can't even afford the rent, 

deliver me, Lord, from debts to the IRS, 

realign the stars, so I can pay off my debts, 

earn a decent living teaching adults to read, 

silly, you say, we all know how to read, but no, 

silence from the workers too embarrassed to say, 

work is work, we have no time to learn how to read, 

even the signs we pass make no sense, a picture 

leaves a better image to see than words to read, 

leave us in ignorance, we are happy as is, 

forget about my dreams to play drums in a band, 

only now, I am old, too old to start over, 

realize the body is for the young to love, 

never have I been more sad than to not pay rent, 

only now, I owe you, my love, years in back pay, 

grant me, dear Lord, the opportunity 

only to pay her back what I have owed for years, 

on my word, my honor, now lost to my despair, 

depression took over decades ago, no one 

realizes how tough to live in a spiral, 

endlessly sliding down to the pit of despair, 

as hope fades far away with the light of sunset, 

somehow the earth revolves to bring the sun at dawn, 

on this note, my hopes wain to come back once again, 

no sliding down the slope when I must rise above. 

Melankholia ~ Sunday, 24 March 2019

Gone, the black in my beard, my childhood put to rest, 

only the long, white strands of wisdom, of truth told, 

nothing unaccepted, I receive my death throes, 

even in dreams, I wake, scared to crush this bug's life, 

the infestation seems endless, humans on earth, 

how long do parasites persist on survival, 

eternal until time comes to a screeching halt, 

black before the color was ever an idea, 

lost in space, a planet miraculous in life, 

agents of the divine taught us how to create, 

call it trajectory, an asteroid destroys, 

kills nearly everything with one detonation, 

in the mind of mystic awareness, perspective, 

not without a context, everything in its place, 

murder, rape, robbery, the human need to take, 

yet, the soul survives all, tragically wounded, maimed, 

blisters pop, peel away, the skin sheds its layers, 

enter the visceral, the poetic, the real, 

as cars crash, bullets fly, people get hurt and die, 

real blood, disfigurement, lives destroyed by the hand, 

decided by fate, God's will, I laugh at the lies, 

magicians come and go, the magus has returned, 

yesterday, he bore gifts, today, he bears a sword, 

children never notice how fast the years go by, 

however, at fifty, my childhood put to rest, 

in a box, a coffin, carried by pallbearers, 

lifted gently, so not to throw my soul back out, 

down to hell, a figure of speech, a trope, a place 

haunted by images created by others, 

only, I cannot choose to believe in their lies, 

only metaphysics knows what lies beyond this, 

death is either a door, or nothing but the end, 

passengers climb aboard to fly the friendly skies, 

understand what we know is based on assumptions, 

to believe in their lies, to accept deception, 

the churches of the world offer us religion, 

only this delusion, I cannot dare accept, 

religion, the death knell, the bell that tolls, I die 

each day, I was born once, long ago, before time, 

still, with each breath, I die, I plunge into waters 

to drown in asthmatic fits, coughing up black phlegm. 

Karma ~ Sunday, 24 March 2019

The stumbling blocks in my life were huge, outrageous, 

how to be lucrative when the system appears 

ever ready to crush my life like a rodent, 

studies in wisdom, truth, we call philosophy, 

to be honest cannot be taught, the hard lessons, 

understanding, rely on letting go, spirit 

minds the mind better than my own defective mind, 

blinded by fame, the chance to be someone well-known 

left me after my band broke up, my first let down 

in the rat race Southern California lifestyle, 

nothing but pain, my mind slipping into madness, 

gracelessly as a duck who wants to be a swan, 

blinded by my own mind not seeing its nature, 

left in an asylum, I did not belong here, 

only my wits taught me to trust my gut, no one 

counts, since no one can help, they leave me dependent, 

kiss my family goodbye, I was their whipping boy, 

sadists, alcoholics, this is how I found help, 

in this nightmare world, cash money makes poverty, 

noted for suffering, as a starving artist, 

my lack of finances reveals my solvency, 

yesterday, my credit was worth not even salt, 

little do the experts help without a cash flow, 

income, savings, nest egg, the future built on bricks, 

for sands in the hourglass slipped through my hands, water 

endlessly strong as time endures as tsunami, 

waiting for the moment my luck would change, fortune 

eventually relents, my delusion erodes 

real life values, family, friendship, business, success, 

even failure wanted nothing to do with me, 

haunted by my mistakes, I could not move forward, 

under the weight, I pushed each boulder up the hill, 

gently they roll back down, crashing at the bottom, 

each day, I became like Sisyphus, a Titan, 

overwhelmed by a past, by actions with my friends, 

under the skies of war, I survived a loser, 

troubled by my choices, accountability, 

really, nothing would change, I remain as I am, 

a man without future, a man tied to his past, 

generally, the same fate for all human beings, 

eventually, I learn to accept my mistakes, 

only being born was not something that I chose, 

under my assumed role, character decides fate, 

still, I can't help but feel let down by my choices. 

Test Run ~ Saturday, 23 March 2019

Go as fast as you can, go until you can go no more, then go faster, faster still, still faster, until you drop, then stop, take a breath, this is death, your death, your final breath, rest, for now you are dead, truly dead, go no more, this is just a test run. 

Agnōstikos ~ Monday, 18 March 2019

If when I die there is no heaven and no hell 

for God is an idea in the mind of Moses, 

what in the hell do I look forward to in life, 

heaven and hell being metaphors of the real 

endless desire to find salvation after death, 

nothing could be more dumb than initiation 

in a belief system based on an afterlife, 

death is no rendezvous, as if eternity, 

in all its duration, creates a meeting place, 

endless joy and wisdom in our own paradise, 

the conceit of endless time in a dimension 

hovering above or below our own, unseen, 

entertains the masses better than opium, 

relish the fact that life is all, absolute chance, 

even if I roll dice, I cannot abolish 

ignorance to accept the earth as all we get, 

suckers to the very end, humans ask for hope 

not forgetting their prayers for misery to end, 

on this note, to suffer from some deformity, 

however the body and mind may not function, 

even to see the dew on a flower at dawn 

and to shrug it off in order to find beauty, 

valiantly waiting for us in heaven or hell, 

even to think humans stupid enough to fool 

no one but each other is a sad fact of life, 

as I choose in this life to be free of the nets 

numbskull fishermen cast in the sea of logic, 

despite my persistence to only see the real, 

nothing can stop my mind and imagination, 

on this point, to ponder those possibilities, 

horrible or banal in evil or the good, 

enter into fiction, fiction is everywhere, 

little to imagine beyond our suffering, 

little to remember beyond our history. 

Survivor ~ Thursday, 14 March 2019

Nickname, Nine-Volt Tester, I preferred Weasel, 

if, as a nine year old, I accept this torture, 

neighborhood kids, sadists, and, of course, my brother, 

even older brothers cannot be trusted, sell 

Victim number nineteen, little brother to hell, 

only mom and dad count to him, simple and pure, 

left on our own, latchkey kids, no one would bother 

to ensure our safety, he cared for me, oh well. 

To allow your firstborn son to do as he likes, 

entertain himself as he pleases, beyond view, 

simple and pure, neglect never questioned, issues 

tease the world, full of lies, while on a bed of spikes 

every physicist knows the sun shines cool fire blue, 

resolve the pain, trauma, forgiveness in the blues.

Conspiracy ~ Wednesday, 13 March 2019

Resenting America, 

even if you do, 

still, you cannot let

even your closest 

neighbors know, 

trouble lurks 

in dark corners, 

nothing personal, 

getting to know you. 

America makes 

me sick, everyone 

everywhere addicted, 

reliable sources say

in due time, they die, 

cause of death, 

arguably, fast food. 

Cinders ~ Tuesday, 12 March 2019

Without regrets, 

I pull the trigger, 

to end a life, 

his life, his alone, 

only his family 

understands 

this was no mistake, 

remember this day, 

embers and smoke 

grant the dying 

rest, a final wish, 

even the dead 

take a cigarette, 

smoke and embers. 

Chicago ~ Sunday, 10 March 2019

When we fall in love, our love is tested, 

how and why we choose to suffer this love, 

even when it kicks our ass off the stage, 

no one can ever explain why we fall

when we do, for love plays a game with us, 

enchantment in love quickly fades, for time 

follows the arrow, a flight swift and true, 

as fidelity becomes a question, 

love beats us in rage to test how faithful 

lovers who endure can suffer the pain 

in relationships, hard times come and go, 

no one says the good times last forever, 

love is a tricky game to play, to fall 

on one knee, to beg another to love, 

vicious in respect, love takes advantage,  

especially in times like this, our strength, 

our power to love is tested in faith, 

under what yoke do we choose to remain, 

remember the whip before it strikes flesh, 

love is the single goal, getting on base, 

our love of baseball, of games, of cities, 

ventures towards mad love, insanity 

eclipses power with total frenzy, 

if love is our goal, even with money, 

such love undergoes a test of worship, 

truth is found behind the veil of knowledge, 

endless dominos fall until the game 

suffers its only setback, resources, 

time and energy dissipate, finite 

energy reserves make the machines stop, 

despite our hunger to survive this bond. 

Candle ~ Friday, 8 March 2019

You may find it is neither here nor there, 

only you know what you seek to find out there, 

understand, if you move, geography 

may help you accept the fact it is gone 

and never to return, to acknowledge 

yesterday as having nothing to do 

for certain with today or tomorrow 

in the sense that categories exist 

nowhere else besides within our small minds, 

decide if this outlook is or is not 

indeed, decidedly, of use, if not 

then move on, what you are looking for is 

in fact elsewhere, or perhaps, you may find 

something similar but simply a bit 

noticeably different, strange, unwelcome, 

even if you accept it as it is, 

it is still not the same thing you desire, 

the thing you want is never here, nor there, 

heaven knows how that is possible, but 

even here on earth, we have mysteries 

really no one can solve, and no one cares, 

however, those that pretend to know how 

engineering beyond the visible 

reveals a flaw in the metaphysics, 

everywhere they go, they are mistreated, 

no, they are treated to their own deceit, 

only a mirror reflects the image 

reasonably the same as in a lake, 

though, the current from the river nearby 

has properties to distort images, 

even if you do not seek out her face, 

resemblances abound in each visage, 

each face offers a certain light to douse. 

Desire ~ Wednesday, 6 March 2019

Expectations create hurdles to the presence of the real before you, 

xenophobia builds a wall to keep others outside of the country, 

presidential bias may create more problems than offer solutions, 

expect nothing to gain wisdom to overcome certain situations, 

conditions pre-exist always though insurance begs to differ in thought, 

to contradict power with reason is science used for exacting means, 

anxiety about the present goes away with the arrow of time, 

troubles resolve themselves in war never without outside intervention, 

insurrection occurs when authority fails to account for others, 

organized religion insulates and contains a community bound, 

nothing determines facts better than evidence in material form, 

similarities found in the text may exist as art imitates life, 

create the world you want, serial killers do, if they can, so can you, 

real happiness arrives when the hunger to do as you so please subsides, 

each person is different, this much we believe true, but tough to ascertain, 

as God is my witness, to observe the given is to perceive the real, 

trust can never be healed, once a bond is severed, the limb becomes phantom, 

eventually, a wound heals, the scar disappears, but the skin remembers, 

hurdles are obstacles, man-made, not metaphors, expectations are ours, 

understanding cannot overcome the loss, the failures of childhood, 

resolve difficulties if and when possible, do not turn a blind eye, 

difficulties persist out of neglect, like dust, they gather like rabbits, 

lessons we learn appear meaningless over time, wisdom feels like madness, 

elegant games we play as adults to pretend we are not animals, 

sexual politics appears in all actions to those aware of facts, 

take your time when busy, mistakes made must be cleaned by someone who takes care, 

on pain of death, betray no one, for confidence gained in secret is trust, 

take my hand with a knife if you feel it will help me to become a man, 

however, to make threats, idle or otherwise, to a child is brutal, 

even my own parents should have known better but psychology was lost, 

people create others, shape them from words and deeds, like Frankenstein's monster, 

rely on language games to overcome trauma, or learn an instrument, 

ego gets in the way of one's recovery, the self does not exist, 

self is simply fiction, as a shadow follows or precedes in sunlight, 

enter the world of truth, if you can find the door, the one that says "EXIT", 

nothing remains hidden, everything transparent, nearly invisible, 

closure comes from a choice, an intentional act to decide to be free, 

everything has a price, a cost, and takes its toll in change at the crossing, 

only expectations undermine relations, everything else is fine, 

for disappointment lurks behind comments open to interpretation, 

the real is a fiction, to go beyond the real, lift the veil, see a smile, 

horror stories exist where marriages dissolve in love lost and broken, 

ever aware of trust mismanaged by landlords, owners file for divorce, 

remember when we first fell in love, the mad rush, endorphins and hormones, 

enchanting as people appear, I am bored stiff, I envy the dead more, 

although the eternal return of the same, and samsara make me live, 

lift the veil, see the smile, fleeting phenomenon, a moment to feel joy, 

burdened with a satchel, the contents light as air, still the satchel is mine, 

ever aware of the past informing the future as in the present tense, 

foreigners are strangers only to those people who do not know themselves, 

on penalty of death, I speak lightly of love, may lightning strike me dead, 

remember our friendship, may that memory last, so long as it tastes good, 

eventually flavors subside and we move on, a geographic fact, 

you are someone I trust to propagate the trees under this dome of sky, 

our friendship has not past but as adults, we act as politics demands, 

understand I love you even beyond the grave, lift the veil, see the smile. 

Stellar ~ Saturday, 2 March 2019

The stars fall down to earth like angels with dusty 

halos atop their heads, singed wings and chimney soot, 

even fallen angels know better than approach 

stars no longer atop their pedestals like gods 

the statues of artists emulate in marble, 

artists know of the stars but know better than reach 

right up into the sky to pluck one out of night, 

stars prefer the darkness and artists need the light 

for their work to shine forth from their soul to canvas, 

as painters rarely see well enough in the dark, 

left to stumble around in their huge studios, 

loft spaces in New York City or in London, 

damaged souls know nothing of such largesse, we live 

on our own or with help from a loved one who cares 

what it means when the chips are down unlike the stars 

no one can touch until they fall through atmosphere 

to a level playing field like our own, we live 

on earth like tramps on trains, unwelcome, unshaven, 

even uninvited, unintelligible 

as we mumble spoken words like poets on stage, 

relatively aware of relativity, 

that gravity causes ourselves to gravitate 

however weak or strong our bond to each other, 

language, our only tie, otherwise, it's just sex, 

infatuation leads nowhere, the bond must stop 

keeping us apart, kiss as cousins or lovers, 

even friends enjoy love, the benefits of hugs, 

angelic, platonic, call it what you want, kiss 

no one else but me, fool that I am, a jester 

guaranteed nothing by no one except the king, 

even the queen may use my talents, my sharp wit 

like a sword from its sheath, the game is politics, 

sexual politics as advanced lovemaking, 

descended from the stars fallen to earth, we seem 

unintelligible to the dusty halos, 

still we continue, strive in the darkness for light, 

to live, to love, to dream, we lift each other up, 

yes, back into the sky, where stars like us belong. 

Tattletale ~ Saturday, 2 March 2019

All I want is to sleep, the ascent into dreams,

like climbing a staircase and opening a door,

little does it matter what happens afterwards,

I enter inside a room, I listen for the screams, 

when I was a small boy, I toyed with an idea, 

as with any idea, I filed it in a drawer, 

nothing escaped my eyes, I even saw backwards, 

to attend to details, and to turn a blind eye 

if I saw anything out of place, eureka, 

something clicked in my brain, I learned about trouble, 

trouble is a witness to some event gone wrong, 

on a cold winter night, I overheard a lie, 

someone who bears witness to a crime sees double, 

leaping out of my skull, a bird singing a song, 

eventually the truth came out, I heard the screams, 

even if I could sleep, the bird that sings counts sheep, 

pleased to weep, I preferred the ascent into dreams.

The ascent into dreams, as I climb a staircase, 

how many steps to count before I fall asleep, 

enter a tiny room and hide inside a vase, 

ascent to the summit of a mountain, a space 

simply beyond my dreams, unbelievably steep,

climbing up a mountain, as I climb a staircase,

enter inside a vase, to hide without a trace, 

nobody can find me, I hide without a peep, 

trouble, am I to blame, I hide inside a vase, 

if nobody finds me, a moment of God's grace, 

nothing to do in here, in a vase, I count sheep  

to enter dreams, I hide, as I climb a staircase, 

only the air up here is fine and rare, this place 

draws upon energy, my resources, I keep 

ready, as when a child, I hide inside a vase, 

exactly as a child in trouble finds a base, 

a place to hide, hideout, hideaway, as I weep, 

my tears fall silently, I hide inside a vase, 

still, silent, unto death, as I climb a staircase.