teetering

release the weight

let go of the worlds
which envelope your spark

the real will sink deep

past the vicious viscous volume
of the norm of common relating
now glazing the measure of our actuality
as we suffocate in the complacence of dualities

all is required

the drag of the years
and fears
and regression of past grievances
all your hard and heavy

allowing the sloppy sludge of expectation and mediocre relating
to slide off our lustrous truths

all the confounding shaded beliefs
all of the lessons missed
and gone awry
impeding our progress

sink deep past all of this with me

past the foul filigree of embellishments
and burdensome masks

to where the heavy is no longer seen as such
and the weight sinks beyond our recognition as is

with the distance traveled in union through time
enough to configure our dance

it will not be felt
it will not be measured or observed

to where every day is new and light
keeping us centered
without doubt
without the complaint of misconception
and imbalance
in order to bring clarity and vision to this winding spiraling existence

to reveal our truest form of self
there is where we were always meant to share
the light of our purest purpose

come see how you shine

miscontrued crack aka runny catharsis

confounded
by the weight of being

the constant nag and tug
at my skeleton
laced at the collar
to worlds

worlds with
methods
requirements

as does this one
the one I met you in
the one you comprehend

there is no separating one from the other
in my experience

your worlds
so loud to me
plowing through
from the other side
squealing out expectations
judgments

as a result
apprehensive in what my involvement means
apprehensive in what my detachment means
I am not alone in this
yet I feel so helpless

seeing these worlds
so small within
melding with current situation
the how
the why
the ignorance
and yet
the beauty of it all

you elucidate my deepest apprehension
in jest
there is a place you hold
urging me to regress

it is cold and self serving
it does not realize
there are two
in this relating

is my perception accurate

will you hold on to this
simply because I do all
and you
contented by my eagerness to please
enough to not give a second thought to my circumstance

how do I convey the things you would rather not discuss
the things I've been held from discussing

am I strong enough
to walk through
this convoluted mine field
of normative means
somehow
keeping it's daily challenges
manageable

my hesitation simply means
you are unaware of this plight

it is something you must recognize
now
though because you do not
i simply haven't the will
or energy
to make this necessity known
or understood

the days will tell

"ten thousand trillion times weaker"

you may not hold me


down the line
of eager gazers on


you may not wince
at the sight
of what all in queue
on cue
would consider
unsightly


the simultaneous gasp
of the multitudes
at witness to
disheveled
ever fluxing me


pure animal


a Higg's field
awaiting the switch flip
stuck near off
or gradient increase
thereof


and what is slight


my frame
my will
my concern
my love


detached and altogether

wavering in balance

omniscient in ignorance


a clutch
in it's sweetest melody
reeling in it's web
off the feed line


and there you lie
with your soft belly
choking on the air
keeping you complacent


oh how the ecstasy
of youth's myopic mode
told us worlds


the fruit of your moment
bore you in English
and he delights in the sounds
from which I find comfort


while you
learning
from the echoes
of which your mother took hers


the repetitious told story
the common plot
the nature of animals
of what it was to crave and collect
edited for airplay
what this world has so obviously violated and weathered

and now we sit with the result of this rusted festering heap
gawking at each other in judgment as if it all meant so much



http://www.sciencealert.com/the-2-most-dangerous-numbers-in-the-universe-could-signal-the-end-of-physics

American Crow

Tangible
The costumes of grand conclusion
Onerous as the air
of conceding to your own folly

I cower
as a violent murmur lurks
where none suspect

Hardly the ideal of your perception
as my crystal injection admits
it's the idea of
which makes it a must



“We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered.”
—Tom Stoppard, Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead

mismanagement

the sticky sweet curtain of predictable stages has been drawn


plodding empty headed to and from dusty corners
eager traffic kicked up a suffocating cloud


unable to find myself in its figuring
I cough out in protest to clear the pathway


visibility has altered all


the mechanism lays deep within
and its quality is mirrored in the dissonance
of your breath
deep fried in the oily soup of everyday's everyday


the heat and the haze
covers your heads, hands, and tongue


unobservant to the reaction
of the constrained


you float in future scenario
with blinders
and I
weighted by ubiquitous plots
seek to find a means to drop the build


be still and know
desire of the common route
requires the dissolution of individual essence


the cherished bits
found amongst the crescendos
of times and people
are not acknowledged in your method


malleable will never be synonymous
I do not belong to
or wish to be made part of
the broad and average


eliminate expectations
out of the time we spend


it requires more than management
open yourself
to see outside of yourself
maybe then
you will see me

corroded diving board

Here we are dear soul

standing on the precipice of uncertainty

loading each other with sweet puffy plumes of smoke

blinded to the thing we approach

this subtle shift in forgetting what we’ve tripped and slipped on

becomes a lotus eater's ease

I fear the serenity I sense to be all 1’s and 0’s in overload

I hear the ingrained manner

speech weighted with expectation

echoes of detrimental ideals

linger in your quips

loom out of your ever unaware bombardment

Both slicked with immediate experience of Being too soon

to figure what that actually should consist of for each alone

I can still feel the oil from your cheek

coating my dehydrated lips

thick and palliative

initially it jarred

I was in the superficial

when that curdled up

Days past now

and I settle in thoughts of instigating a retreat from the plank

to grab your hand and calmly turn from the immediacy

Yes, the ease of your temperament

gentle touch and

soft spoken words

All salves to my sore and inhibited heart

Yet, there are ways to figure into the useful

Jumping is not one

daycare

infinite cycles of divisive control

took consciousness captive

forcing arrest

upon whispers

toward its antithesis

 

the raucous feed

of puissant addictions for dominance

obscure wisdoms of innate radiance

which collapse to the whims

of the obvious incessant clangor

 

daily reveal of grit and gloom

of falsehoods and betrayal

muddle any attempts

for mapping out less destructive paths

and the immediate route to reaction floods

 

anchored to this shrill machine

the shine needing no announcement

felt without action

without utterance

now drowns in screeching suppositions

moments are sent

for gathering information

from intrinsic intelligences

so small and imperceptible

yet infinitely expansive

placed and willed amongst the chaos

to exasperate the fuss and lashing burn

allowing recognition of this welcoming murmur

with the hope familiarity becomes second nature

 

keep it cool

mi piel se acuerda
solamente un abrazo

la letra escrita
pegajosa
cubriendo mis dientes
relleno los hoyos
con la incomodidad
del dolor rapido
colgando al revés
la miel dulce
de su sentimentos
corre
despacio
dentro de mi nariz
y en mis ojos
ayudandome ver las luces arco irises
en la periferia
de tu conocer
mirando
un reflejo de la capacidad
dentro de tu linea

cuenta me
la historia
de tu sufrimiento
sudando
dirigiendo los cuerpos
al ritmo final

lumbering through

head hollow and heavy

allowing the onerous air
of never having learned to be 14
fill the vacancy of some vital organ’s removal

convalescing from the peak's drop

where edits mirrored worsen this affliction
and the suffocating silence of the everyday
hinders rudimentary distinctions

resolve misplaced

in the bedlam of my solicitous nature
always ‘overdone’
attempting ‘too’ much
‘too’ hard
‘too’ soon
beyond the limits of ‘normalcy’

Normal and its inability to fathom

the discourse among the cranks and cogs

where conversations

with the back of your head
via previously recorded transmissions
reveal a multitude of counterfeits
and I am figured once again
to stand amongst the loathed

plodding environments of foreign methods

when met, flashes of comparisons
contribute to the reckoning of falsehoods
and my truth is pulled from the ranks of the wretched
though not to your understanding

so I sit here in the company of grey lives

10 feet away from one of the many
lusting for the blade that scored my expectations
revealing the deep purpling magenta
of my actuality

bellowing closed mouthed

where the reverberations of such shrill frequencies
flay the cords of my tone
rivaling the song of swine at slaughter
in an attempt to remind myself of that hue

my passions and true clout reach deep

beyond the niceties of pubescents
I ditched class the day the kids sat mesmerized
to run wild with the purveyors of
sensation
enchantment
and the ethereal

how to approach my now greying fingertips

complacent in maintenance of this grizzled life

as the dream seer saw

a profession as death’s doula
owning the absence of fear
in the dismissal of this fleshy function

I read it further as my time here is now

drawing to its close
these energies no longer carrying a true shine
muddled by the distance and convolution in the figuring

how to revive a seed having gathered decades of dust

upon an abandoned shelf

will that dust compact itself and act as nurturing soil

comprised of dead skin cells and space rock

how do I encapsulate your stance
underneath thunderheads of sheet mold
the life grown out of a temporarily fixed milieu

to prolong the burgeoning

fleck

the filter of smoldering landscapes
tinges the environment I traipse
among ominous illuminations
speckled in falling ash
dusting my recent days
in amnesia
the sun
the hue of fading ember
cauterizes the blood pathways
which oozed since cracked open on Kester
furnishing a solid bead of burnt crimson

paused in a queer sort of admiration
I am witness to
the amount
in duration
and the deep chasm carved

I find myself plunged

the defunct relapse
instigates a constant pressure
behind my sight and inwardly
towards my filtering function

nudged into recalling
the vague notion
of childlike tantrum
and unapologetic dismissal

as suddenly as it approached
this hindering flux evaporates

it is but a fleck
just as you wished




"And I do recall that my very best friends were the ones who left me empty and ready to be filled again."

aquamarine

sipping in the quiet repose

amidst your profuse drip

the stillness within a perceived experience

leaves its mark

flowing on the off beat

queuing the dip in your hip

illumination below the cap

pulled away to desiccate the fountain of your brow

strikes the depth of my curiosity

you let loose a beam amid the concentration

figuring the tweeking in the decibels

maneuvering the course of uninhibited frequencies

making the bodies bounce

moments of me watching you watching me

the interlude in which I muster the approach

to the filed rabbit toothed grin

and your voice, soft and delicate

inviting and warm

a pill held out in your hand

in the hopes of some sort of collision

I swallow, trusting

and the night’s end is delayed

the ecstatic pull between us

the flutter of read sweetnesses

terms of endearment I’ve never owned

invitation to collapse in a slumbering embrace

nesting the landscape of your environment

welcoming me to swim your aquamarine

let’s drag out this anticipation

until the monotony of a good thing

breaks the tension

and this wondrous energy dissipates

leaving us to pursue the pinnacle of these palpitations

and the glimpse of something good

in someone new

ebb and flow caught in stagnation AKA pity party

Rib cage cracked
Skull sawed open
Yet I walk
I speak
I fumble
Bleeding
Lay myself before all
Under construction
Dreaming of the moment my presence remains a delight
Where the fissures and scaffolding are not visible
Where my wool flannel bandages do not catch the light and cause
the tone
the wincing
The repulsion made commonplace in my stead
No friend,
I do not find these never-ending transfusions amusing
Blunt is my experience
Grace has never been my bedfellow
These tubes and clamps holding me
scrape your skin
trip you upon your approach
All I have to give you as your respite
is my back as I fade out of your view
into another attempt at being

March 25 2016 at 7:24am

A note to self from my selves

i remember this place...
i can't say i'm happy it's visiting. but i guess it's here because it's time to go through and heal it. i honestly forgot about these cracks.
i recognize i've fallen into them when people i respect are blatant in their conclusion that i'm nothing more than a sad joke...it's so hard not to agree with them...and then it's too late.

lesson learned...always the hard way

       pull yourself out of the ugliness

i stopped fighting it. it hangs around in all of its shameless clangor and i'm here, engulfed, hoping no one will notice.

but they did, and do, and now you're an embarrassment...a spectacle which is testimony only to its own defeat...something to avoid...someone to disregard...a wasted moment in a soon to be forgotten past.

       never lose sight of yourself.

the bog overwhelmed me...stifled my senses and i lost my grip.

i let go.

September 22, 2011 at 5:03am 

brunt

a now unattainable means

of vehemently progressing through the hours

urges me forward

the conjurings of my desperation present

the brume of a hand reaching towards

in a gesture of guidance out of a stifling dark

as I stretch to meet its wispy extremity

in a sudden rush of awareness

I find myself teetering on a precipice

lingering in awe and hesitance

as witness to this vantage and visitant

under the weight of my own volition

or the employment of dysrationalia

I grasp the rocky edge with my bare feet

and lean toward the void

having heard the exhortations of 

the hovering council

yet uneager to take any admonition to heart

I stare out into tenebrous possibility

motionless

the potential of such heights 

sensed to the pit of my core

affects my stance

I motion backward 

wavering in my assurances

panicked in doubt

I turn to face where logic tells me

there is a foothold

I turn 

to the absence of air

amulet

did you feel it
when I showed you

a key of sorts 

to the shackles of my
self-clinched misapprehension

befuddled by the machines
of our burgeoning

fully contented in the besmirching
of my better judgment

the basic allure
of freshly khurkried timber
and melodic prose
inveigling those on the otherside
into a servitude 
keeping the famished animal of Longing
as the means to a will
blinded to every foreboding précis
by the sheer possibility 
of potential camaraderie
I set free
these dark creatures
hobbled by the mechanisms

did you feel it

the release of the power 
i unwittingly bestowed
within the clutches of this 
perfunctory enrapture
having obliterated the recollections
of the collective
perpetual
reductive 
rote 

the murder
unzipped
out of the brain cage
to caw and inumbrate
the tracks of you

a gloriously deafening flight of shadows

as you trample your way
into a protracted fugue

temperament of the obtuse

upon admiring your own reflection

it is certain
the mythos contents

the deluded self entitlement

this farce affords

takes you 

gratified
into the stagnant
complacent
somnolence of cognition
vast multitudes
of wasted energies
occupy

the cycle stymies
any possible progressions
toward lucidity

the vapid role embraced
leaves for want

offering
only
the
challenge of
being disengaged
from
its
perpetual
insolence

it is a common hopscotch
of easily read
easily fed

when the approach dissolves

a rigid facade

a mere muddle
is sensed

simple language designates
your convoluted course

exist in your pontifical character
without demur

those who truly see
will no longer merit
the vacuous energies
you have conceded among

those who do not
will occupy the empty space
within you
indentured to mollify
the pique 

scale of 1-10: the suffocating irritations of the apathetic in quandary

enthusiasms of my constitution overwhelm

and I encounter the consequence of your self-care

as solicitations to convene are trammeled

in a preemptive

disparaging

inquisition

recollections of sobby Sufistic* slurrings

enshroud the pretense of concern

you equivocate

and I must rate

the gradient of me you may tolerate

wherein I am the distresser

and you

the diaphanously delicate petal

wilting at the exposure of the ever fluxing experience of me

poised to weed any taxing envelopments

the nature of said inquest goads a humorous reflexivity

wherein the veracity of such a report is at most, tenuous

for neither you nor I can be pinned to such charts of legitimacy

though should we venture to claw beyond umbilical scarring

digging past the upper and lower mantle of our potential

there we may find the essence of our own mutability

to where our convoluted connections of understanding are recognized

and we no longer need to react

in fear

as these insufferable times engineer

the carreening of our energies

to where you

will soon wander

the state above

to lose the account

of your own regard






*Mostly fanaa, yet thought as somewhere between ghanood and adraak, though shahood has been noted. (As the undoctrinated facetiously references stages of Muraqaba, with as much respect as possible.)









“Credulous at best, your desire to believe in angels in the hearts of men.

Pull your head on out your hippy haze and give a listen.

Shouldn't have to say it all again.

The universe is hostile. so Impersonal. devour to survive.

So it is. So it's always been.”

inchoate tohubohu

come find me

i await you in the curdle of your temerarious air
to accompany me in the growling of rapacious despair
we will walk along again the lull of your integrity
at a creeping cedar's pace to study this effrontery
to challenge your notions of indeed what took place
with the capacity to dwell in a 30 second span of space

for a lifetime

re: re:

Isolated in an absence
devoid of familiar landscape
or any recognizable sentience

a silence so encompassing

it separates from what it is simply to be

in a single solitary moment

ringing

long off

comes rushing in to seek fecundity

the clinical canals

crammed full to obstruction

a low and wide muffled muting persists

the reverberations then peak to a shrill

filling my eyes with conductive pools

my nostrils overflow with a sipid viscosity

creeping down the back of my throat

gliding into my mouth

in globular streams

the raucous pitch

thereby taking another form

the piquant catalyst 

awakens the memory of dirt embedded digits

reaching
by and down

gripping the near digested recollections of your oil and salt

your calloused hands conjure
coersing jaw agape

a way made for spore encrusted fingertips 

to slip past tongue

and a tickled trachea is impregnated

splinters of your scent 

stick my palate 

and the pungency of your essence ruptures

encapsulating every cellulose constructed entity ever encountered

this proliferates
and an instantaneous sensorial flood overwhelms 

incorporating every conceivable possibility

as well as every scrutable obliteration 

within this zenith of cognitive capacity 

i employ the mindless means to convey the manifestation of existence

i release all the power it afforded
as if every atom was split

and i am no longer human
 

the cacophony of its actuality 

set alight my form

and i am none 

and every

the crest of the wave of expansion

title 1: Imaginary Friends - title 2: a 14 yr old's drunken drivel about shit - title 3: fluff and script about fluff and script and euthanasia

Consider this...

i made you all up

i took what i wanted of each of your displays and snippets and

poof

there you all were

so eager to have what i subconsciously edited into existence

i simply ignored the bits instigating the internal
at times

external winces of embarrassment
and at others
outright revulsion

constantly on mode of better than and superior to

suggesting they would thrive in a chaotic world by murderous means

so yeah, take us all out

i'm waiting...

given, we are all assholes

simply shitting out what we've consumed

mostly fluff and script

we are a hollow people

we can only see what we will in our supposed freedom so aptly described by DFW

"the freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation"

satisfied on our "default setting"

which is comprised of said fluff and script

that which has been plotted in the "real world" of "wanting and achieving and display"

you're a lucky one if it is cud
because for most it is shit

it was once processed and digested

while now the toxic byproduct is all that remains
to be consumed again and again
believing our contrived conveyances

the utmost
the be all end all of our own fucking insignificance

what do we really do for our surrounding energies

because that is what we are

energy in constant flux

so if we constantly put out falsehoods, embellishments, misdirected anger, and hateful delusion
then how are we ever to know what we are
or of what we are meant to be

how are we ever going to progress beyond this sludgy quagmire in which we all currently wade
content to have reached a buoyancy at neck level
as we continue to proliferate the tried and true
which is this

this awful mess

in mine (the awful mess that it)

i covet escape from my own experience

a way of not having to focus on what i am
because i've mostly felt i am many
and don't want to claim i know what that is
and because i am alone in my experience of this so called many

i've learned to hide it
to hide my experience

to be seen as acceptable
and to not be told i need to seek the means to be something other than what i am
whatever that may be...

anecdote
rolling away the particularly heavy recycling bin i notice a motionless lizard
with fue respect i pick the flattened body up by the tail to bury
though the lizard was alive
jaw cracked and bloodied to the rear of its skull
belly widened by the compression of weight above the wheel which delivered it
it writhed in fright and agony
i knew what i had to do
i went into the house to grab the sharpest heaviest knife
after a tearful hesitation
i chopped off its head and buried it
i'd rather end suffering than callously walk away from it as if it meant so much less than i
maybe that's the Yaqui in me (1/8 is hardly much)
it's what i would hope anyone would do
if i were beyond physical rehabilitation

i'm not worried about what is beyond my comprehension

this is because i do not fear death

i am humbled enough in life to feel a draw to it

possibly because my veil here is so thin
and possibly because it will be an enlightening as to how and why we are stuck in this defective groove

maybe it will afford a means to nudge the needle head which continuously skips over the same two tones on this grand shoddy vinyl we tread

possibly then i will take my place in the transformation of this into the next

and by i
i mean the energies which surround

of which i am comprised 

hence death
and a possible nothing
or just something different
anything but this constant hum

i am never alone

yet always lonely

so i made them up

all of them
and i do everyday

i write to them

i laugh and talk to them aloud

and hold them close to me

and touch their cheeks in the most loving manner

all of this i want

to be the fallible me

the clayfooted 'mo'

i don't claim to know shit about shit

i am just observant and i have opinions

what i do know

is that with my imaginary friends 

i can never do or say or be something wrong or upsetting

i am always just so
rightly human

and i love them for it

gravidity lacking parity

a time piece slowed

miraculously in tune

with reluctance

rendezvous with a black cat lubricated in wry yarns

flowing out into communities by which desire struck

humbled near the crackling oven of conference

chewing the frivolities and challenges of the fat

into the halituous day's retirement

landmark holding the hour of descent 
into excruciating realizations

overwhelmed by the prospects of possibility

ill-prepared to take on the looming conceivable challenge 

of precautions disregarded

though we are not of time and place 

keeping the fruitful bound to the potential 

elicited while in the care of the flippant

waking to the hazed recollection of indifference

positing the plausible for an instant

the cure is clear
disintegration

the introduction of contingency

affording the placement of a squeaky key on the flow of the ruddy river styx

precluding the lingering presentiment

catharsis in my discordant song

surrendering to the confounding relief of discomfort

accompanied by a reserved release

of tenuous expectation

amorphous aka the blurb aka "nothing is sacred" aka does not, does it

glass
neither solid
nor fluid
nor transitional
may fracture and shatter easily
yet is clear

nacre
3000 times stronger than its composite material
due to its ability to divert pressure through widened channels
inconsistent structural formations
which allow resilience
conduits for pressure flow
layered bricks near the thickness of light
iridescent

similarly
tooth enamel
rods at the surface
converge into a myriad of crisscrossing systems below
allow the same resilience
laid out as a twisting maze
alleviating the initial disruption's magnitude
given a length at which to dissipate

tectonic plates
mirrored catastrophically
though inside out
ever savage change
relief in the form of earthquakes
volcanoes
subsequent mountain ranges
pushing and pulling
very much so like people
in our superficial understanding
though the energies by which we exist
I imagine work structurally as nacre and enamel

the tortuous
the chasmic
the seething
the vacuous
the orogenic
the horsts and grabens
push
pull
physically
metaphysically
ethereally
it all
in all

we each has our oily prints on it
though the shaping of...
does our conjecture hinder and limit
does it broaden and complicate
"there are two sides to every coin"

does the amorphous have a quip

we each are afforded the capacity of experience
we each grab hold of what we will during said experience

nurturing methods suggested
in an air of genuine open eared concern

carelessly filled
outrightly belittled
ferociously gouged

how to keep these experiences in the same value

If one contains my idea of what grace should embody
and the other does not
does it mean they do not attempted to achieve the same value

one may have had to travel farther
merited length to arrange it's manner
the other may not have had such a route laid
shallow
unraveled in suppositions
second guessings
arriving as a steep peak's eruption convoluted and violent

though the same value does not equate the same experience

or the quality there of



oh, to be less like glass






after reading a WIRED article from 2014