Whispers of Hypnos
submerged into sleep the sail
is a semaphore flown flat
a vivid sign that can only
be seen from above
The clipper has clipped the jetty
A deconstruction, a cultivated crunching crash
No flames to consume the sense wreckage
just the syringe currents
sucking, straining and draining consciousness
The flag of fate flutters with a few flashes
to the beachside onlookers
The drunken boat capsizes
The bodies neutrally buoyant fight
to remain in the last layer of light
as they descend to the hues of ink
immature silverfish nibble on noses and toes
as a insolent rip current sweeps through
The ballast reaches the benthic realm
The sail detaches in an errant gust
and rides the waves to the shore
The rest sinks.
Mutually Inclusive
Breath without oxygen is suffocation
Light without sight is still reflecting
Thought without purpose recesses to memory
***
Muses’ magical majesty in mythopoeic places of insight
touch the heat of the solitary spark of emotion melting
pulses of impulses, spasm into spacious expatiation
The center elliptical, the forces grab hold towards the end
Souls greet with a heart arhythmic, the mind expanding
thoughts were in fibrillation and were too demanding
***
In the throws of continual separation without permission
Aches in places that never existed before admission
Combined propulsion from fusion to violent fission
***
Is God without conscience still divinity?
As a heart without blood still beating
Without you it was always a Tabla Rasa feeling
Were we truly symbiotic, a beneficial being?
More like a sapphire that lost its glitter and gleam
***
Relations were obviously not as they seemed
Breath without oxygen is still suffocation
Light without sight is still reflecting.
Tribute to Time
The quaking and seizure of a fortress far on an undiscovered forest
The surrounding bastion’s walls are made of atavis skulls
The mortar is of decomposed powder of their skeletons
planed smooth and without spaces, squared evenly
Unspoken ancient languages echo profound proclamations of remorse
filled with sympathetic frequency that vibrates all molecules equally
Parapets and crenulations built of vertebrae and sinews
all outlined and enthusiastically bordered with artery and vein
Atriums abolished the garden gateways are burnt by acidic sunlight
Foliage defoliated by volcanic breath and crimson released by
Earthquakes, the interned forest sinks into the savaged and raped hills
The breath is followed by Earth’s vomitus volcanic lava, a larva
Covering, cocoon like chrysalis, filling crevices solidifying, heat rises
into the caustic atmosphere
The embattled fortress walls made of ancient cranium whistle
with the bellows gray matter smeared as fertilizer, legends of youth
Debunked, rebuke thee forces of pastoral pendulum
Forest to bone architecture and the grasses growth
replenishes and conceals as the walls fall into disrepair
Again falling into the Earth to be vented to caustic atmosphere
The quaking, a shaking, a sifter to distribute
what is always left behind as tribute.
Sympathy for Who?
Singular separate secular state, synods petitioning irate proposals
A conflagration of all the congregations and stations
A blaze, incendiary devices to the vices of man
Incineration of contemporary and past contradictions
Accept the science of Mendel, Einstein, Copernicus and Diogenes
No need to prognosticate for Armageddon or an Anti-Christ
Humans need no such help with self-induced oblivion
Helpless to help along our single quantum event
Lucifer laughs loudly at the speculation of involvement
Instinct can be overwritten in the spiral code
We destroy ourselves by ignorance of actions
with the whining about whom is right or the chosen
All things are as they are and will be
The universe records all experiences that ever existed
all at once, we but a fraction of a section
A slice, a sliver of emotion our frail mental symmetry
would splinter and be projected outward to the edge of comprehension
by the reticent lightning strikes of the overwhelming possibilities
We destroy ourselves without any help, nothing could help us
Ecclesiastical versus secular
A proposal that we should not blur
Satan is an idea that tempts
and not a controlling being to be blamed
You have freewill don’t you?
Laughable Lunatics
Flights of fancy across international time zones
Seeing pariah messiahs messages of delivery
To seat themselves on mountainous thrones
Explaining that they alone know all of the mysteries
Dedicating and dictating direction to the enemies
The tip of a spear punctures the membrane with a snap
A pop and a thrust into muscle serrated flesh carnage
slivering off and shredding into the tunnel structure of vein
and the coursing of oxygenated cells flow with rage
as the receptors light up and pass the chemical past
the gap, the exit of the artifice of metallic forgery
and the seal of the membrane fails and the junction
Resolve eludes as the passion exudes a function
and nothing but the precision of the malicious surgery
of Ego and Id into idiocy of aggression
Stab into threats, threats unto the fool
as the molecules disperse on the edges
of these nocturnal emissions of
distorted suspicion and meditations become blood
Flights of fanciful ambition expands, demands
and then bursts the meditations of the orators
Blessed mystical maniacs in a crystal menagerie
quoting Goethe and Ginsberg as they reflect at their own greatness
burning emblems into their shriveled arms
Sturm und Drang Dynamos explode as we watch the madness
As laughter manifests uncultivated nervous slander
No menace painted on mirrors and black mud on the floor
as chants of invocation and supplication stall.
Out of Thick Air
Pyroclastic flow of volcanic glass and ash
From the terror of the captive Islanders
Held and thrown across the city sky
Symbols of the civil centerpiece die
Thunder of madmen’s metaphors a compression and then percussion
Compassion is the basis of religious gospel, never ignorant terrorism
***
Pompeii and Pearl Harbor memories fall from the clouds and meet
Streams of animosities smoke cover and dust the earth with heat
A siege that cannot halt prayers to the towers
as the death toll accumulates by the hours
Civilian shields as wings and unwilling weapons
and the invincible heights are reduced in seconds
***
Shock of sound waves and the fina
l flames destroys
a view from the edifice as the violence is deployed
A disgusting revolting dance in the streets
where the holy sites of the major three meet
Joy about carnage? How can this contradiction be so?
They have witnessed such damage and so they know
Remember reasons for those setting the triggers for the demolition
***
Empathy and understanding to all, for they know not what they do.
***
Weep and grieve for all that fell from the heights
Innocent without option and without hope’s device
The perpetrators made their choices to be burned with
They wrote doom in the scrolls, retribution will be more than the first born
Awareness is the only diligent defense against all evils, as evil knows this
We forgot eternal vigilance has a dangling price tag attached
and the pain is felt by everyone and used by those who shade
themselves in the past, waiting for the sun that has not existed
for many years to shine at their feet.
As the rubble smolders and human ash covers the scarlet sun
the historic horizon becomes a haze of stone dust
falling and settling
As history beckons new beginnings…it will rise again
built with the same steel, retribution will continue to sharpen
its blade and cut across memory and the face of the world.
Happy
A past polluted predilection
An ignorant silly procrastination
A voice vibrating the water to evaporation
A rain torrentially tormenting until saturation
No more to give just one last fit
Not even enough energy to let go a sigh
Just simply a final urge to quit
Too much effort to watch the day go by!
Nothing more to express
Nothing left to say
Everything is gone
Everything is nothing
***
Forget and fall flat on your face
All the anguish will not be erased
Indifference is the only lingering taste
Left in my mouth in which to feast
Optimism exists not in the least
***
The demons attack without remorse
I have screamed “Please!” until hoarse
There is no directive to change my course
All has become dry at potentials source
***
Oh happy day*#%!*&% off.
Journal (plus or minus a day)
I want to crush happiness today and the hallucinations continue along
with the overwhelming over-developed sleep and circadian rhythms.
I am never slightly rested and refreshed and reality seems to be slightly
out-of-phase-and-pace with the natural world. I wish and supplicate
for forgiveness and ascendancy to another avatar or incarnation or
whatever the letters of the day say.
I am profound and profoundly sad with absconding bits of trivia
called happy thoughts and it needs to be a cognitive transcendence.
I in physical means, I mean nothing and must move to another state
and it is not California.
***
I mean, maybe, a sensual suicide to the instinct drive can take us
beyond Nirvana.
Happiness is relative and not a right as the
foolish, antiquated Constitution contends as it edges are foxed and brown.
Emotions seem to have
evolved to be the causation of behavioral changes and controls to
create cohesion in the family and individual ties.
Emotions are
too dangerous for this simplistic species or maybe that is why?
They will destroy themselves with their own hands masturbating away
until the universe turns off the porn and sends them into a stammer with
a quick slap to the groin. Auto-erotic chokers swing themselves
because they believe it will get just a little more. A sensual suicide, I wish
not to indulge but they do it because they feel it might be their last so
they must get more, and more and eventual it will kill them but save
them from further fears. Without elevated consciousness, species wide,
then this world is doomed, as a term for destiny, for homo-sapiens and
hopefully.
I am not so hopeful for myself, but my own fears keep me from doing
what I should have done years ago.
I am afraid. I am afraid of what I need to do to grow and become.
I know what they are and I am being an irrational fucking hypocrite.
***
I need to hyper-hydrate and cleanse my frayed mind as the body has a
liver.
My temple is in shambles, the marble ruins melt in the acidic storm
of the cerebral, cerebellum, pons, corpus callosum, and whatever
lobes frontal or occipital but they all get inebriated, drunkard brain
Bullshit intoxication hypocrisy but I keep doing it again and over
along with another time.
I do it again and do it to forget that I did it before and will do it again.
Guilt is oppressive but also can be impetus for great change. There are
better reasons for that though. If it wasn’t me I would probably think
myself a cock sure, arrogant plebe in the sense that I believe I can be more
than, even with the bibulous behavior.
***
Romantic LOVE is impossible for me now as one must trust thier guts and
Betrayal is my tapeworm.
I don’t feel much of anything until I get sedated and intellectually abated.
Maybe that is why I get so wasted to not feel so wasted.
No EMOTION without coercion. Numbness, Hate, Anger, Sorrow, Rage.
I can do that sometimes without it. Hope, love, happiness, optimism,
compassion, empathy I need something for these things either to bring it
on or destroy because it may be better without them.
Live or die, I know what to do and it is up to me now.
It is all right to be afraid. It better be, but all things come to a divergence
or convergence. It is up to me now.
I will or maybe I won’t?
Tempest
Unsettling stillness taunts every dry leaf, and insults the trees
Stagnant air awaits quietly for an injections of rage
Nature’s contraction eagerly turns the lock to our cage
Grayness gives way to pitch as the impetuous sky bleeds
vital unrefined origins
****
Humidity grips the skin and fills the lungs
So hard to inhale and feel through the slime
Wind out of the west emancipates the senses
peeling the layered clothing of the ambient spirit
Outlook returns back where it should always belong
Sight is lucid and aware of the time
The ensuing cataclysm cleans and instills a song
Decomposing death feeds
The puddles dance with ripples and growth
Grass flattens and the thirst is quenched
The howls of the vegetation fall silent
The white noise, the hum of clouds and the gulps of the Earth
Tell the residents that are listening repent
***
Hide or embrace the tempest
***
In one second the humid atmosphere is denser than child like fright
Come outside the clouds have freed the Titans and it is raining
Purifying co
ol clarity submerging drowning flowing
Droplets to fugacious rivers, oceans and trickling tepid streams
Water fills containers, dissolves igneous stone
like being awakened in a night terrors’ apoplexy
As all is transitory, all is fluid in one form
and moveable, all is mutable to new states, as the rain slowly changes
mass and speed in different skies at sullen rates
Misleading promises of the longest day, concealment of the starry night
The firmament filters variable light so the fogged beacon gives sight
to tell the residents that are listening become
Leave your shelters and watch the weather egress
Live in beauty, and exude astonishment, the trappings will flee someday
Reflect in baths of light, absorb the wisdom which you have strayed
Gem like order shattered and splintered thrown in all directions
Unique form takes a liquid approach to time’s tempest corrections
No more rage, no more cage the latch is not fused
The leaves have dropped and the Earth is renewed.
Blame it on…
Contrary to what is deemed liminal
Understanding of subjects subliminal
As an opposition may appear criminal
(opinionated)
Moving mindfully past a threshold
As a divine act to witness and behold
(actions)
Personalities abound to the virulent
As a personal preserving stimulant
So not to consume a contaminant
(be on guard)
Confidence as an integument to feign
All from a loathing, facial disdain
(the theater)
Political policies ride the continuum
for special interest there is no serum
To alleviate a damaged society’s delirium
(of the absurd)
In God no, in tokens we trust
To increase potency is the lust
From which displays are never taciturn
Along the demented, fragmented sojourn
(continues)
Camels of a coat create a caravan
Trotting from cities to the suburban
Nostril snorts are no less urbane
As man is to mankind humane
This notion of ideal ideals is insane
(into the future).
Journal 2
Vacillations and vicissitudes going to places in my thoughts and
dismal daydreams of layered fabric into tapestries of time and a place
with no space, a perfect plenum. Seeing seas and storms flowing, sitting
at tops of trees with the fragile mist chilling the organs and the blood.
Surrounded by myths and obstructions and monoliths are signs of
realness at every edge of the realm on the crooked brick stairs in the back
of an ancient sullen house made of uneven stone cold as the mist,
but without greetings and sensation. Droplets of reminders course down