Fuck the quick-fix, the blood
payment. The humping dog can’t
be partial. My body won’t decay,
I’m invincible! If I don’t worry,
then it’s no worry.
yet to be annihilated or beloved.
Colorless breaths froth and
trickling down my cortex
are keen echoes.
Blue sky. Orange storm imminent.
But oh! What a fibber!
I try to imitate its brightness
trips on its face
right in front
of my knees.
or Chinese green tea?”
I am blowing my brains out!
If Spring was a man
I’d make it prepare
an itinerary. A girl near me
is certain of her “screwed up
head.” East meets West.
There is something occurring to me
in a sort of centrifugal force
of the ocean kind of pattern.
The chop and ebb of the ceaseless brainwaves
and the breaking emotional tide,
create a natural phenomena
that doesn’t seem to have been mapped out
or explained in any hyper-rational way.
I must accept this for it’s dark beauty.
My mind is not to be set on auto-pilot
or to be settled into some simplistic state.
Coming off Paxil, it wasn’t meant for me.
I have the tools, the insight, the courage needed
to meet my fears, my desires, my life
head clear, head on.
Sitting here rubbing my forehead hard.
You’ll text back eventually.
There’s Time, the great asshole,
hovering in the mind’s dim hallway.
He makes too many feelings for me,
and I only want to be trusted
by friends and lovers and strangers.
These kind eyes carry trouble I guess.
I know you’re going to do your best
to keep us a good idea, keep us okay.
The externals factor too hard sometimes
making rocket science out of our love.
When you talk about me to them,
they talk about me to them,
everyone speculates softly
and I just want to exist alone, away.
The knot of us is already doubled anyway.
Can’t we go wordless and stay in this room
my hand in your hair, my heart quiet?
Talking is my defense mechanism.
I’m on an endless tour of duty.
The shells rain on my shell, some go through me.
Cup my mouth, pat my chest
give me a hand to subtract my duress.
Give up demons, I won’t contest
these signs that are delivered as miracles.
Settle in and break the seal.
Across holographic fields
spread transcendent blankets
and act in and out and sit.
Do we deserve a story?
Do we deserve a truth?
Do we deserve the glory?
Do we deserve the balance too?
In the human age, we must engage
and stage a space for our Native Vibes.
We the coral reef of all life,
self-organized brain in time.
Holding the ratchet with Descartes.
Teleporting cognition, arrow in flight.
Baseless reality, out-of-mind plight.
Neither seem right. Too tight the sight.
Widen past future perception.
Pass the crucible through convection.
I looked out the window of the plane
and there he lay atop the comfy cumulus.
The cloudy surface was still as moss.
Caramel light burst from the dark horizon,
like a shiny oil dribbled into the ocean.
What serenity exists in this private space
minus the occasional Boeing passerby.
Waves of Great Lakes ripple into the sky.
Heavenly rays lean down from clouds on high.
I was born between crazy eights
20th Century Dragon time
crying about Reaganomics
beneath the summer star’s crab sign
Safe and sound atop Levelland
a fire within, the sea in hand
Flood of the imagination
breaking levees of disbelief
I was Ahab I was Skywalker
Home on the range, writing the street
Touching the Beat inside of me
Bandana boy in a hurry
majored in overindulgence
Head up my ass, red-lining life
The Lewis Carroll’s mindless torment:
often happy, often unhappy
Embodying the anomaly
The windowsill’s become my home
and I’m forever chasing the Truth
More listening, less saucebox rambling
Evolving quickly out of youth
From the sea, The Dragon’s risen
second movement of a soul mission