Friday, September 27, 2019

That Certain Something

There is something so special about you.. I can't place my finger on it exactly. Your kind. Brave. Soft spoken. Your walk is royal, without the palace wall confines. Your breath speaks volumes and encourages me to write. You speak the language of silence. Thorough. Beautiful. True. Where do you reside?

This morning I clamoured from bed, disgruntled and unapproachable. In my dream I sensed your presence, far beyond the shackles of sleep. Like a tranquil night, you speak to me. Like a flower ruminating its fragrence, the language you possess is colorful and innate. Where are you? What epoch do you call home?

The mystery of your sourcing can make me wonder, study, and lead retreat. Steer across chasms wide, valley low, and plunge the abysmal. I cannot find you. I cannot see you. Must I wade in this ocean? This shoreless body without a hint of where you may be? Through both day and night, noon toward nights darkest hour, I seek you. Where beloved, does thou lay?

Does my toil draw you closer? This work to fan an already consuming flame? Does my sacrifice pay the price in full?

These things I wonder, and my mind wanders to a far away haven. Where sickness and doubt are striken down like trees in a burst of thunder. Here is where my journey stops, and I melt into your mercy. I wish to stay in this place forever. Here you burn so bright, that a star may find envy. Here I meet you, and we dance in a distant fury, to songs unheard. and chords unstrung. Here I lose myself in your boundlessness, and desire nothing more, here I lose myself... and find... you. 

Friday, September 20, 2019

Lil Diddy

Time makes dust from mountains
But that's not all we are doing here
Thats not reason we are placed
To stand in place and save face

I slave at my desk all day
Paper dries up like used ink on payday
Its not so much a theology of looseleaf
We're drained and in chains;
See it on newsweek

Weekly updates, while were living for the weeks end
Tell me as a good friend, can I trust the broad lens?
Of trajectory, these aquaintences foul, with no respect for me
Meanwhile, the green mile, seems part of the recipe
Its do or die, live to try, that or just rest in peace

I work for the sweet release
To relize the soul-shine
Everytime it hits like an acid-drip, I cry
We've looked to pharmaceuticals for what is found in musicals
The joy of an expression that is Gone With the Wind
I'm thinking its original sin, holding us captive
I'm thinking of a place to begin, and share compassion
I'm drinking like a fish in a den, feeling my facets
Sinking into miserys grin, broaden the bandwidth



Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Hitting the Sweetspot

The monkies mind grinds like 33 gears
Yet the heart remains real, ample, and clear
What is this feeling, so alive?
Like suffering thats forced to die.

Like submarines that live to dive,
and airplanes that still scrape the sky
It comes on Sweetly, unannounced
As sweet-tea served at Grandma's house

It comes on lofty, yet intense
And cuts thoughts patterns, into tenths
So all the sound that leaves one deaf
Is exhaled in one noiseless breath

It brings a flooding and a rush
Just like the sweetspot when its touched
Its sexual and sensual, but beyond both
Incredible

The past is that, inevitable
Where within that lies wonder?
The future bright but stark with fear
That too can leave you murdered

Now and here I bow to neither,
Where every kiss is like the first
Residing in purposeful splendor
My sweetened heart expands and bursts




Monday, September 16, 2019

The World in Vicegrips

Rob the cradle, cut the ties
Fear and loathing soak the skies
Enter us all in a room
All consumed with doom and gloom
Lifted up through hesitations 
Document my meditations
Life is sleeping in a matrix
Laughing is the head of Satan

Jim Hendrix, Mahatma Ghandi
Come and gone, the souls before me 
Left an impact thats eroding
Plastic trash floats in the ocean
Flames that puncture holes in ozone
Here today, tomorrow? hold on

Its no suprise, we breeded lies
That disinfect the world of tribes
Of wings, and faith, and tribulation
All fall to the prey of Satan

This breeds much dissociation
But my mind grows feeble waiting 
Is it me that brings the changes
Though I see now nothing changes
Family ties disintegrating 
By the foul red winged favorite
Hits hard in the solar-plexus
Satan lives inside the nexus

You cry oh the humanity!
The poison apple from that tree
The ladder thats too steep to climb
A sale of shirts 9.99
A sea of ships that fit the crime
A giggle at this paradigm

You are the truth, but unaware 
Immersed within the foulers snare
While air it becomes thick to breath
The landmarks of the prophecy 
Yet don't be scared your man is here
For which the crowds both boast and cheer
He smiles again and bleeds a tear
Sir Satan sits upon the chair

Observes this world
He has a snack
The evil doers have his back
The clones of bone and artifact
Support from globes fallen into cracks
And once you fall, you wont return
Forever lost in lust and yearn
So hear me now repent from sin
Come face up with your sufferings

You blast the one who brings the light
Prefering pleasures painful spike
The Nazerdeen that hits the switch
And ushers this evangelist 
A fool he babbles on and on
A wiseman sits awaiting dawn
The Holy Ghost, Father and Son
In Christ shine down, thine kingdom
Come. 




Friday, September 13, 2019

A Seers Sight

Dont let a sudden scream end your dream
Or history repeat on the will of the weak
Dont worry about the porcelain jury
I've seen brighter faces in China shops

Window reflections, staind with blue ink
Welcome to my wading room.. Don't blink
Most certainly here, your given time to think
Of all that's been alloted, allow me to change topics

I wittle on the prose till the wood becomes an object
Sharpening my wit like a dagger in the pocket
A bowstaff thats staggering these dangerous aims
Like a lion from mt. zion lying out in the rain

I'm stationed at the hotel California for a season
And when my run is up I'll tell the dieties I'm leaving
I cant stand the sound of a clanking cutlery
Perched like a cat who retains her subtleties




People forget, what was told in a book
Chapters are spent navigating the rook
But there exists 5 other pieces...
In this worldly chess match do you follow the speaker?

Do you flounder at the notion of a leader, or leading?Lauryn Hills miseducation was real. I keep proceeding
Digesting these novels while disassembling hooks
They scared of those who educate so they call em
Crooks.

Well my poetry takes poverty out into verbal odyssey
I refract lives in retinas regardless of the one I lead
You know... even in residentials...
I can summon a slum with the tip of a pencil
Where the walls are brick, mortar, and metal
Where the fence painted white asks "who sent you?"

Im bent in the fabric of a million designs
So which face is mine, take a pick and decide
Vibe to this wild ride, take a gander inside
You might find a fountain or a montain thats wide
You might find an ocean with pale purple tides
An assembly of continents that never do die

"It's amazing what you find, when you do look within"
said this Cheshire Cat with a shit eating grin
I recognize this mirrored man, hes actually my twin
Like a ball of twine mimicing Earths circumferences

It's a member now, of memory, cause most, its extinct
So look into the matchbox with your amber eyed glint
A friendly box of mystery amongst awful things
Totallity of imagery, a most auspicious glimpse
Granting sight to the eyes that were once unconvinced

Thursday, September 5, 2019

Branch & Vine

I am but a branch
A rippened vine,
that bears its fruit,
then floats the nile

I am clocks second hand
time is my doctrine,
for when I strike twelve
A caged bird sings..

I'm a ghost, a demon
Whose not in demand
Yet somehow am found
All over these lands

I'm a fool on the frollick
A kind hearted brother
Outholding a hand
Come, lets discover

This path is so me
It's stiches sew me
It's riches are random
It's entry is free

The eye of a needle
Passed through with ease
When the anguish of loss
Creates prosperity

Assume stance for lecture
Hannibal Lector
Whose motive most clever
To cast broad stones better

Fuming and foaming
Calm and collected
I am what I am
And I am indebted

Lesser than less
Grander than all
A candle burns quiet
To silence the law

Untouched by the wind,
the fellow or fortress
An ocean within
A torrent lies dormant

Dare you awake me?
And stir up a storm
He who survives onslaught
Will surely be born

Born out of wages
Birthed beyond rank
As death walks to life
and they embrace hands

In mystical pleasure
In masterful peace
In auspacious ecstacy
In enigmatic ease