People (outside looking in)

if the will of others and their directional notes

here there

at times right in cognition

as conversation

though mostly as angered expectation

through forceful airy placement

are intended to instigate action

it hasn't worked

my frustration with my daily routine

may see me seated

peering at other's stories

or imbibing dark malted liquids

staring at another screen 

or at pages 

frantic with the experience of bombardment

those with voice

those with capacity 

blaring through the cracks

and as in my childhood's notion

through peephole(s)

if you you lot could be inside me

not in voice alone 

though in manner 

and means 

maybe one day

the writhing will stop

and the writing will begin

Mirror

On Wed, Oct 20, 2021 at 11:07 PM

Accidents will happen

Trip through the backwaters

Archaic and dismal

Regressive compunction 

Thoroughly aloof 

In the aftermath 

Of initial reactive fodder 

Though do please sit it out and wait for the

Accusations & denial

And ever existing doubt

Tipped to the flimsy

Flapping its truth

In reality of the numbed thumbs

The lesson of karmic induction 

The hollow of the ever/never 

Set against the tune of proficiency

In the realm of fucked by your own mode 

And my dearest and nearest attention

Pseudo

Pressurized fissures hiss

Under the duress of an assumed figurehead 

ww-redux

do offer your weakest words

to the healing of flightless birds

encouraging the loss of a binding gag  

where frantic bursts of shrill reminders

sputter out among pressurized dumbfinders

'til the notes settle on 

the intangibility of the dolefully coveted cad

where the self-deluded "wild and free"

vacillate in hollowed strangerly reunion 

forced to witness volumes of insignificant fiction

blow away as ash in the starving of vivifying communion 

the opacity of bliss drenched recollections 

which once flowed steadily in blinding combustible notions 

coating a permeating crown with inner-sight thick as pitch

in a lotus eater's delusion

where witness to this culled chimera 

challenges the now pried eye

back to realities singed sheer and ghostly 

and the coronary passing

laid open pulsing and gushing 

for the commanding and nullifying whipcracked denier

now pushes and pulls and 

eases hand over mouth 

to ensure the palating

of the force-fed numbing and dumbing routine

a religion for the road widen trodders

where moments are seemingly choice

and hearts stop raging

in the turning away from

that which grasps and gasps

buckling forgotten 

amongst lashes of feckless flames

weakest words

in loss of the muted  

where frantic bursts of shrill awareness

sputter out in pressurized cognitive variances

'til the notes settle on

the intangibility of 

coveted caresses

falling short in a hollow 

strangerly hug

speaking volumes

of insignificant fictions 

and denial of vivifying passion

where nothing sticks 

as the bliss drenched recollections 

when the opacity of syrupy notions 

was steady streamed

coating a crown 

to permeate inner sight

lingering long and ecstatic 

now alone in fever fired imaginings 

challenging the prying of eyes

back into betrayed realities

gutted sheer and ghostly 

incapacitated 

sighing in whimpers

where other's moments are choice

occupying of mind 

busying of hands

turning away from

that which grasps and gasps

buckling forgotten 

amongst lashes of feckless flames

Deserter

 a dusky vastness of arid beige

birthed the habitted heads

effigies of a dragged race

elevated through a non-matter

besmirked and luminated in boyscout screen badges

testament to eaches' audience and stake-holders

they set off at speed to an end 

cut from the dreamer's vantage

as neon minions besmirch the approach 

of a singular consciousness

encasing stuffed with writhing echos

sensation of the mundane 

set at incarnadine peaking volumes

where the ligaments ache 

to keep structure in function 

walking the monotonous route

embellished with metaphoric intricacies 

shrilling out the answers 

imperceptible to the ego

though the battle of talking heads 

certain in all their own perception 

with noses pressed hard against tain plated glass

continue to take on cue 

the role best suited for the leeching

 

1.8.21

within the yearning of common carnal frivolity 

sheerly veiled passages are tightly woven

where energies filter in and through

taking this perception's journey to worlds 

once lost and feral 

those who've come to be part of the ebbing 

allowed recess into these forgotten spaces

to knot the measures of their communing

connecting the combed through 

with ubiquitous graceless urgency 

the others in muted frustration

as the figurehead lies resolute in abandon and disregard 

another passed over where relating is made small

there is nothing here to take from

nothing assumed 

effortless neglect makes bodies recoil

and rescind into self-satisfying abuses

as endearments slink lank into the daily beat

exhausted by the hardened walls 

of what wouldn't be right 

and what could possibly be wrong

left dreaming of the dilapidated definites

at the approach of cumbersome scaffolding

let's reach through the cracked facade 

to massage the hearts of the grizzled

take these hardened vessels 

soak them in the enthusiasm of youthful play

as giddy eyes staring through these windows of invention

to create moments which coat the frigid in reminders 

of how it could all be 

in the delight of day

convalescing in the dew of gentle mornings

and euphoric waves of evenings' fervent delvings

come meet me under the brilliant warmth 

of this raging desire

Nappy

I wish I could drag my mattress out into the yard

take a good nap while the weather affords

I've laid down on the concrete path

belt loop stuck my back

Folded my arm overhead to shield from the sun

What a place to lay down

In the absence of shade 

by the winter fig's lack of plume

In shutting my sight

The sun pried open my illuminated jaw

Saw straight through to my current brain

and the last self-satisfying meal

as gently as was intended 

the beam found what was sought

and as my eyes opened and closed

Sun resumed it's tender role

Indoors the cold keeps

I want the warmed winds to touch my cheek

Loosen the furrow in my brow

And send me to sleep

Tomorrow the rains come

I will run in the wet 

And hope to stick the steps

But for now

A shut down and reboot 

While thoughts reamin dulcet and soothing 

The Thickness

Lead notes take the evening toward cacophony 

Sutures from familiar needles thrust weighty thread through the thickest of fabric 

Gathering among the ever directed eager audiences

Varied and poised to splice themselves in 

Composites all played to volume

Flesh-suits on rack 

Queued as the lot step out onto familiar platforms

Convoluted yet repetitious the script and dance

as heavy shadowed hands pull and push

Causing the glimmering facades to shed

as the staged lot scramble to find their next marker

Subtleties fracture these figureheads

and my gratitude goes to the unseen for clipping these tethers

Shoulders relax away from ears

and I am finally able to settle into a muted solitary serenity

A story written by another

Reptile on Stage

quiet in approach with unlocked jaw aimed right at one's worth

then the exchange of bad for worse encapsulates your desperation

mocking the one thing you've uttered revered 

But its all just dripping carcinogens 

the lines afforded from that air of general ubiquitous placating

those without sight, in or fore, would reach there for their speeches 

and often do

generally lost in the haze of how or who will bring that fleeting ego's fix 

while the flatulence of stale attempts leaves one arid and limp

yanked in the mirror 

look into the eyes of the red walls dropping away from one's tangibility

desperate to be rid of that garbage disposal line 

of half country-fried bewilderment 

of almost having made

It's all shit for the pile's height 

breeding ground for the writhing 

soon to have wings for nesting on lower lids

high pressure dousing that good guard away 'til atrophied in all's worst favorited characters

now only audience to the idiocy of the coming grasping and clawing at the storied glint

depicted in fragmented loops now grimed-over and dulled

Urgent Current

I visited the church of the nonbelievers

where willingly I sat covered in flailing polar agitations 

sputtering in repetitious gestures of humility and flamboyance 

spotlight reverence offered in recognition of a true flame set alight by fable

preciousness lured to a precipice

beckoning relief and preservation 

and the work begins when mouth is offered 

clearing wires now engage 

all piercing deep as a clenched jaw is shot with crackling current 

the bite issued in the darkest of frozen ground 

deep in shadows of towering neglect 

in attempts to infuse an odd and rare flame with conflicting "whips of opinion"

this choral cacophony negates every sense

eyes pierced blind

sounds shrilled to bursting deafness

teeth pulled

tongue removed

hands chopped

sex sewn

the surgery of enlightening 

pulls from the recollective gallery of the mind's theater

words gushing outward in type 

measured by half a revolution of snaking

as a budding flower is plucked

as vase is now grave

as certain as fictions fracture

with movie set sugar glass glory  

the vacancy of real waking action 

honey smeared on shards

delivered in dilapidated definites 

as hot hurried air emanates from the cupidinous

in an attempt to fuse initial charm's glory

into a collection of stained glass 

now grasping at self gratifying rushes 

with every flick of that common tarnished tongue

melting the figurehead iceblock 

oozing unsightly revulsions

pouring from the cracks to fill the hollow of the relieved chimera

delved into any other as anomaly became common

evident vapid now satiates vapid 

sparks the withdrawal and retreat of the odd and rare

set to secure it's singularity in trivial commonalities where the flippant are sure to disregard 

the no longer numbed congregant 

rid of any clutched echoing figments 

rises from the pew

Set to continue to seek the truest unencumbered hour on a revamped stage

the theater groundlings continue to bawk, boo, hiss, ooh, and ahh

and the day begins in a billowy amnesia

...

My dear, is it not all simply a theater of facades?

"Death of a Salesman" aka The Only Fitting Title

it is as the myth of heaven is to the devout

a singular alluring force

as elusive as eventuality 

time nurtured the cynic

sagacity of experience 

bludgeoned the reoccuring flippancy 

a muted violence upon the hopeful

a constant toil to maintain buoyancy 

while attraction's wild nature proved to instill 

the indelible weighted shackles of doubt

ubiquitous credence haunts

and the officiated dissident recoils 

recalling a doctrine no longer fitting 

even as tattered as the currency of its relating

sparks a potential deviation 

to atavistic notions of coital unraveling 

ravaging a once stagnant body

compelling a great hibernation into sheer denial 

a starved creature retreats back

to the sustenanceless throes of delusion

facetiously floating frivolously

above the drag of days to come

Dementor Drain

Feed me the heat and flavor of credulous dreams 

I'll swallow their inherent potential 

hovering the highest of heights

there held by measures and musings of the caged lot

the folly of inability mixed with belief

navigating the fluff of the common placating route

"Turn me on, then turn me down" 

free fall grips the totality of the treat

heed and make no matter of time 

feel the rounding of the jagged

entropy of the unbound

antidote to saccharine 

jaw agape for the milk of ages to be guzzled

tell me, do you wish to

wrangle in faith

something of anything

once so insignificant

mouth clenched in realization 

belting and fraying the chords which ache behind walls

protected by the nothing so viciously swayed before the starving

once pried, blood will seep into your fabric

Outlining footprints of the immotile 

Awkward Plea

A realized dream is to be able to convey a past without instigating a fear of those tumultuous places still lingering in the present. Potentially, in a best dream, to have other souls experiencing similar tumult, read and know they are not alone.

Because it was decided to take on a huge challenge and share the experience of these chaoses with one so near our introduction, a great trepidation of having left the sole reader raw by its emery, and fearful of future potential rearings has me curbed, though anxious to bring light to the present.

 

Its a given no one is entirely healed, and at times can slip back into patterns familiar and unhealthy. As of late floating on lofty notions of fascination and allure, the quiet beacon towards the sustainable was almost entirely blared over. Though, in recognition of what is required for one to take initiative into healthier lasting potential, it is hoped in writing this expression, the dip into the chaotic will be afforded some inkling of a saving grace.

Also, the eager lot within me sojourn into the hard facts of reality and come back steady and silent. 

An amnesia of sorts, to get through these days without a heavy heart.

Wide eyed

Imagine life's energies alive and in motion surrounding you. 

The whirl holds your life with all it's rough, all it's sweet, and all it's potential.

There's a center, a home where one resides smack dab in the middle. 

This "eye" affords a potential vantage of all one's life has already taken on and experienced, containing links to the methods taken, lessons learned, as well as the potential of varying future scenarios.

The centered soul has the capacity to affect the whirl's energy output. As in pulling in the dark tumultuous times to speed the whirl into a constricted funnel with one becoming too short sited for fair and appropriate response. Or, at the other end of the spectrum, beckon a bright soft embrace, slowed and soothed by love and care, where breath is afforded for a realization of a best case scenario to be instilled and enacted. 

Thus, the potential for destruction and the power to pollinate.

Gone for good

The Phoenix and the Turtle

found a fatal flaw in the logic of love

It is not one to the next

Yes, a devotion 

Yes, a span entangled within energies and muscle memory 

But also you!

You!

Do not concede to a mediocre experience of joy

Dig into your wants and craving

Grasp at the things which appeal to your mind's eye

I will not impede your process

Truth and beauty be not buried

Fatal is the logic of love

Sing to us of all tedium and folly 

Though save it not for your coming days

Sin fetcha

I read

& now I'm at a loss for words to you 

The ether

My love 

The ever intangibility

The ever romantic notion of a love 

I want to share my edge with you

A romantic notion of care

Of delivery in a letter

with words of which I do lack to you, ether 

Where I wish to be the nothing 

The ever intangible 

So frequently the desire haunts, calls, and nags

then whispers

Ebb & flux & beat into

this thick existence 

this endless stream of not good enoughs 

So why bother

To you

I wish freedom from me

To me 

I wish freedom & logic to be so 

 of it

Cherish

Raw reveal in childlike impulse

Care to show the seasoned withhold

Ah, I see

Mirrored to a vacuous vantage

Truth and timing 

Here in waste and want and take 

Now in give and do and fill

Challenged by such a vapid notion

The odds are always in the house's favor

this person

The gathering of sinew from the grasp of the forceful is relieved

They drop away

Carrying a lighter route 

Suggestions of progression simulate 

thoughts echoing manner and mode

unlike that which I would prefer 

Sought and sewn by means of others

My day-to-day 

work toward or away from

The matter