Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Dissolution


I would say its powerful.

I’ve become

In the liquid an texture

In the tense and tension

Thunder breaks

As our minds penetrating the æther

Electric and sudden

As lightning twitching across the sky

Feinting in feathers and rhetoric

It is the absence that has made compleat

As Triumphs of ruthlessness

Reverberate in time



Awoken in such a way that

Possibilities collapsed

Until we were left with the ever present now

How ridiculous and familiar this seems

the weapon has not grown weaker

Only more acute with time

As if articulating a liquid

As if efficiently weaving time

Like moss in the jungle

Carefully laminating everything in a verdant, gentle embrace

Such instances of connectedness

Can overrule even the strongest lines


lacerated in scars passed

We lift ourselves from the wreckage of this life

Absolving our wounds to the sands of time

How I wish in this moment

I could heal my mind

As quickly as flesh

In a kind of pattern recognition

to seek out faults

exploiting cracks in the carapace

unraveling something ethereal

into the eye of a hurricane

making landfall  

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

such behaviors


In poor decisions

again and again  

until it matters

with mind rending moments

having lived through

stupid rhetorical questions

written

without purpose

what then does this mean

from one moment to the next

plane after plane crumble

in the behaviors

exhibited and advertised  

ire and sorrow

mingle into these

bitter moments

that you have brought me.

How disappointed I feel

For having loved you.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Condor


relentlessly traversing the desert

In confusion and memory

How lasting has the ache become?

Where I fear there is nothing left

But the rotten parts of my spirit

I have given it all away

the vacancy of space like stars in the sky

In the rhythm of experience

beyond the electrical impulses that make up this reality

when there is nothing left to see and everything left to be felt.

As revolting and magnificent animals

Feeding on the carrion of lives

Tearing into the leftovers of self

Where I still wish to soar

In light and dark

Facing extinction and bounty

As if the last dance of ourselves

Carries out a life that we deserve

Feeding on trash and dodging cars

And yet, what else would I be

If not a rare and ominous figure

Alone in the sky

Lifted by great wings

above the backdrop 

trying to escape

the ruins of myself



Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Fancywords


Impatience I have toward others.

ruthlessly I have dealt them.

Spread my black wings against their surfaces

dismissed them as nothing



In graceless façades

shattered their possessions of psyche

eviscerating with language

In assimilations of mercilessness



hinging nuanced experiences

on single expressions of dissent

consequently, such lessons are clear

evidently, with conversation to follow

   

weaknesses speaking something ancient

in connotations of excellence

something relentless is patient

in sensation, as a kingdom of night.

Monday, May 22, 2017

lost connection


Once the train left the station,

I wanted to wave my hand and cause a car accident.

destroying something violently

to mar my enemies so completely they could never heal.

like a debilitating black streak
defacing everything I don't control
as my hate for what our lives represent

our place in time

our poverty

Where I feel so unbelievably powerless to help
anyone, even myself.

And yet, I feel so strong when you are near.

And I felt that power riding north

Away from me

Without me

I wanted to lay waste to an invisible enemy

That brings us these painful moments,

Drowning in the helicopters and the car alarms

where pieces of me die
like a shattered flophouse bathroom mirror

When the doors roll shut and I worry about your safety

  what fresh hell awaits when you get there

where the dreams we have of us are always put away on the top shelf,

like a bottle of wine we keep and never open.

And I wiped my eyes and dissuaded a crackhead for change

I want change too, man. 

I want everything to fucking change.

And if it means burning this city to ashes

I am willing.

And honestly, what it really means is keeping my chin up

And being brave enough

waiting on those empty tracks

For you to return.

Monday, May 15, 2017

of you.


As rising suns

And setting moons

I Can hear their calls in the night

As if Running down prey

The last grain of sand falling out of the hourglass

The last tear that I have to shed

For all of this to be absolved into memory

Forget me in the whispering sands

In the Howling wind of the night

I am but dust to this place and its ilk

I am but wreckage in the dunes

The nausea of dehydration

The thirst of an ideal

In the ceaseless search

For you.



how they have felt me through dimension

we are quickened and whispers

song and sonder

in some immaculate dream where the details

played out into some coincidence of time

framed in sound and fury

struggle and strife

where I cannot know what the futures hold

only shape how I will persist into them

and the motivations that  I have

are as captured satellites

around you.



As I am a craft upon reentry

Coming apart in a cone of flame

Shearing of metal and machine   

As this has somehow become customary

To make impact and then proliferate

Becoming the reign of myself

Repeatedly and relentlessly

Awakening on foreign shores and foreign landscapes

Adventures within adventures

Dreaming the dream of the life that I have

Woken in the experience

between sanctuary and solitude
with you.












Thursday, May 4, 2017

Worst latté ever.

 




It feels like holding an object from another plane

In my coat. I feel it weigh like disappointment incarnate.

This, this shit. Comes from another place.

And that place is made of fire

This shit, is what burns that one girl’s forests to ashes.

It has decimated your landscape

That much is obvious; when looked upon.

And I walked it out to the rainbow road

And turned it into dust, in the middle of the street.

To go and poison the city some more

In little glittery glass fragments

That get stuck under the feet

Of people trying to walk barefoot to the beach.



There is a kind of gentle spite to the lay of it

A sort of passive-aggressive control.

And just eons of miserable nostalgia.

-I have time for none of it.

-Just, the hopelessness of it

And there’s a reason why—

And the answer to that is

More hopeless.

And then erodes into

Some other nonsense

-And I’ve got time for none of it—

Because I know

that every second I spend feeling hopeless is a second I have lost

to feel excited, or happy, or orgasmic.

Or just anything but hopeless.



And I can only imagine

What that must feel like:

To be the thing that is difficult to put to language

And you’ll go on setting fire to your plane

With shit like this.

It is part of you at this point

as if a child that still plays with matches

after the house has burned down

no we cant get a new puppy. no honey he's not coming back.

As if fire has shaped the landscape

to the point of tectonic instability

it cannot even conceive of something

stable enough to grow moss



as if:

the rapid consumption of landscape

never establishes anything of permanence.



We are the evenings of city life

Drunken adventures by the sea

Beneath the lights of lifestyles we can’t afford

In spheres of people we will never know

As we, ourselves occupy spheres

Dreams must be made into reality

And for this we must awaken.

Everyday.

Everyday, for as long as we can.

Putting one foot in front of the other

No matter what size our feet might be

And being brave enough to progress into the future

One step at a time