I stand at a street corner.
I gaze at the many.
They are the mindless.
They are the blind.
I gaze at the many.
They go about their business.
They are the blind.
They have no queen.
They go about their business.
Their lives as fickle as flames.
They have no queen.
And, yet they all have their purpose.
Their lives as fickle as flames,
They kiss their wives and lose their lives.
And yet they all have their purpose.
To know the world that bore them.
They kiss their wives, their lives,
And all of importance, goodbye.
To know the world that bore them,
They must know the world that bores them.
And all of important, goodbye,
Goodbye to the butterfly, the worm.
They must know the world that bores them.
Blind to insidious filth.
Goodbye to the butterfly, the bee.
The forests become deserts.
They are blind to insidious filth.
A cancer of the mind.
The forests become deserts;
Welcome to the matrix.
A cancer of the mind.
Sloth to the ways of divinity.
Welcome to the matrix.
I shackle myself to the great machine.
Sloth to the ways of divinity,
I allow my bones to be ground into non-entity.
I shackle myself to the great machine.
The squeal is the requiem of billions.
I allow my bones to be ground into nonentity,
To be the seasonings of the food of demons.
The squeal of the requiem, the billions.
Hung by the ankle, awaiting the scythe.
To be the seasonings of the food of demons.
I grind the eyes from the skulls of obsoletion.
Hung by the ankle, awaiting the scythe.
I hear the cries of those awakened
I grind the eyes from the skulls of obsoletion.
To no longer see the kindling.
I hear the cries of those awakened.
The stew is mixed pound for pound.
To no longer see the kindling,
They must take the blue pill.
The stew is mixed pound for pound.
Every drop, a diamond in dust.
They must take the blue pill.
To escape this nightmare wonderland.
Stacking timbers of pine and oak.
The cremating fire at sea I stoke.
Oil to burn to carry the soul.
Two silver coins to pay the toll.
Dragon ship to sail you home
On sapphire waves of cradle foam.
Burning torch, ignite the sky.
I give you wings so you may fly.
Fly to heaven,
The eternal sea.
Black as coal.
Return to me.
Summer winds from southern waste,
The souls of kings shall haunt this place.
Burning skies and floating ash,
Mark the road I travel last.
The mirror becomes
An extension of my self.
Ruffle. Ruffle.
Smooth a wrinkle,
As a misplaced
Feather.
My name is not
Alfalfa.
I share the same
Curse.
Dance
To draw the eye
To the shiny plume.
The peahen.
The Great Observer.
Hear my cry of victorious poetry.
Pretty to beautiful.
When plumes are extended.
Many eyes to see much.
Dance,
Just to dance.
Ruffle. Ruffle.
06/09/12
“The shank was bent into a smooth and perfect circle, and the head, which resembled in shape the setting for a diamond, was engraved with a tiny lazy eight, the symbol for infinity. The artist, Simon, made it for her because he believed she had freed him for the self-crucifixion of his addiction. In an accompanying note, he wrote that one day she would meet a man who would so love her that, if his sacrifice would spare her from death, he would straighten the nail and drive it through his own heart.”
“Innocence”, Dean Koontz, P 317
The Zone
Street eggs cookin’ on summer black.
Strung out meth heads and dumpster crack.
Addicts are like owls calling out in the trees.
Crack-heads scoping in packs of threes.
Fingernails black and burned out pipes.
Sidewalk seizures and ashtray tripe.
There’s a crack-head hole in the wall,
Or a meth-head cooking in a burned out stall.
Time bombs ticking with deadly fume.
Deadly burn out with nuclear plume.
Santa drug addicts hiding in trees,
Crack-heads looking for PCP.
Took the stash and stripped him down.
Left the fat man lookin’ a clown.
Chained to the wall and seeing the sights.
Living your “life” combatting your frights.
I open my eyes and I am blinded.
The light fades as I adjust and I am stunned.
Before me, stacked to Heaven, are books.
Every book in the world, it seems, is here.
All my life, I’ve read books, countless in number.
But, the ideology of my falsity is
Truly a façade.
I have seen worlds so detailed, every madman
Knows not the realities as thin
As rice paper.
So many realms, worlds, kingdoms of smoke &
Spectre.
I have seen what you could only imagine,
And it is as empty as a long-forgotten tomb.
Once upon a time, my dreams were no different
From the world around me.
Once upon a time, love was tangible,
Dreams were real.
Now, all I feel is numb.
A derelict begging for entry to
The shipyard of shadows.
The eternal hunger of the breakers.
Hopes and dreams are thinly woven lies.
A knockoff for the promise of perfection.
All I ever wanted was my place among the ants.
Now I am promised my place among the damned.
03/16/12
I feel the Earth
Is the violin.
The sea is the bow.
With the pulling of the
Waves is the pulling of
The bow. One last pull
Of my waves like my
Life before the strings
Break and the wood
Of the violin is burned
To ashes.
10/27/12
“By the standards of humanity, we were exceedingly ugly that excited in them abhorrence and the ost terrible rage. Although, were as much human as those who lived in the open, we did not wish to offend, and so we hid ourselves away.”
“Innocence” Dean Koontz, Page 8
I look through the port
At the approaching planet. “Tierra del Muerto”.
The “Land of Death”.
The sun peeks over the horizon
And vanishes.
There is no light below,
No sign of human habitation.
I have been gone far too long.
Slamming into the Earth
At a crippling speed.
The Earth is screaming.
There is far too much light?
Sunset? No. An Apocalypse.
A cloud of death rises
Over the ocean. A mushroom
Of heat and fear. Inside
A bunker, I watch
The oncoming wave
Of cloud. The oncoming dark.
10/12/13
Four brown geese flying low,
Autumn chill and wing tip flow.
Visions of freedom
Ring through my head,
So close to walking
Away from the dead.
Yearning for love
And a breath of fresh air.
Away from the steel
With nary a care.
With the buzzing of gates
My heart doth pound.
The prison
My prison, is no longer a sound.
A sound within the mind of the dead
I will finally sleep in a warm sheltered bed.s
