Unreality (poetry)

living life in an unreal reality

breathing a beauty whose time is ending
loving these last moments,
the foam of a crashing wave
unsustainable
yet here we are
in the heart of dissonance
reveling in chaos
for this brief spark of light
where the chaos is normal

 

standing on a cloud
staring at those soaring vistas
that haunt our days and our dreams
knowing
consciously
that this cloud cannot support our weight
that we are doomed to fall to earth
to perish from the speed
the danger of these heights we carelessly mined known
horrible we braved the harrows of our choice

yet
the choice to fall is not our own

to fall to the hard ground of normal
to fall to the hard reality of a disenchanted reality

simply an unavoidable future

a simply law of physics

animals without wings trying to fly

we know that this dark future, it comes
but
that future

that fall from heaven
it is not here now
for this moment
there is just that little density the cloud gives our feet
there are just the few seconds

which let us peak our head above the high wall of mendacity

to see those forbidden sights of the real world
and here

while we are here
there is this rapture
this forever wonder
at the beauty we are seeing
even if we see it
as we fall away from it
never to see it again
still
we will remember
harsh humanity
even before we blaze into an ephemeral brilliance
we see our demise
the first wobbles of the spinning top
looked for so acutely
that even if they are not there
we are sure we see them

or maybe we were falling
feeling only the freedom of flight
yet, now, the joy has passed
we do not see the birds so close
playing with us like dolphins in the shallows
their presence pleases us no longer

we do not see the transient wonder
of those infinite interpretations

which the clouds morph through
no
all we see is the ground
shuttling towards us
to wake us from this dream
to break this pleasant perfection
still
the ground is far away
but those clouds which were so gorgeous
are now spouting lightning
and with every brief flash
all we see is how much closer the ground is
and with each lightning flash of life
whose brilliance is in many ways wonderful
we see the demise of our deified position
and oh
maybe the lightning is beautiful
but the dark spaces in-between
where we don’t wait for the light to show us the ground
where instead we wait for the crash of the invisible ground
taking away the unreality of this mystic plain

taking away the crashing wave

taking away the wonderful chaos

that is life at this moment

 

I Disappear (poetry)

Here I was

There where I’m not

Fantasizing about a tomorrow

That has already disappeared

 

I disappear

Dissolve

Cease to exist

Not all of reality

But that specter who was me

Yet is not me anymore

Delusions of the man I miss being

Those happy times

Whose misery is buried

Ground lost to the cleansing snow of memory

The only thing I see

Is what I choose to remember

And what I remember

Was the beauty of roses past

When now I am in an unknown season

 

Life changes

Chapters change, begin, end, and are skipped

Here where I am

At this very moment

There is the looking back to what has already happened

Those lips touched

Conversations shared

Eyes caught, and, then let go

They were not me

The me who is here

Where I am

He was born today

Will die tomorrow

Sleep taking most of what he offers

And alcohol taking the rest

With maybe a few minutes of beauty

Not macabre

Just the soft reality

Of my disappearance

 

When I dream of tomorrow

I weep

I can fantasize such glorious creations

Myself the man I dare not even dream to be

But no matter the wonder that might await

It comes at the expense of this moment

Not a squandered moment, never

Rather, the realization that this present combustion

So powerful

So right

So ephemeral

It is going to disappear

 

There was an argument

A very bad argument

Between myself and another

And words were said that should not be said

And I wish to never hear them again

Yet

Now

Inside my memories

That argument

So long ago

I miss it

What I would give for it to happen again

Today

Tomorrow

Forever

That tombstone to a time that is no longer here

That last flash of light

Before the complete eclipse

 

My lover

My life

The one who doesn’t exist

At least not anymore

What was I to you?

I remember the days

Where you would wake me

By just staring

Waiting to catch my eye at initial consciousness

Knowing how wonderful for me

After a harrowing night of horrible dreams

To wake seeing your peaceful face

It has disappeared

And this is ok

I forgive you, if you can forgive me

That is not what eats on my tranquility

No

What turns me, a proud man

Into a writhing mess, not even human

What it is

Is I never asked you what you thought when you stared at me

And now,

Because that time is no longer

And even if I was to ask you

You wouldn’t be able to give me truth

Because that time

It has disappeared

 

Yes, I mourn

Yet now, I am here in the moment

Something beautiful

Something special

So much like those past days

Entirely different

With this unifying thread of constant bliss

Universal perfection

A man is not a this or that

But a compendium

A universe

Encompassing Everything

I am at bliss

I hope for bliss tomorrow

Yet

Yet

Yet

There were other times

Other times that filled my soul

The bliss of yesterday

And as I lose it

As I forget it

I still remember

Lovingly

Those last shards I still have

Before they, to, disappear

 

Real World (poetry)

girl with blue eyes,
do you still exist
dream that doesn’t die
did you ever breathe this dirty air
of the real world

a new life different then the old life
could this be called running away
see in the face of each new person
a new world ready to love
a new lover ready to kiss
can’t the entire world just exist
exist as it truly is
everyone perfect
every moment joyous
every scene worthy of painting
and every smile a hard fought treasure

an old life invading the new life
could we have been better
are we such slaves to ourselves
dreams flutter forever in our heads
don’t they mean anything
there is beauty in you
there is beauty everywhere
it is a captive emotion
each person a forever universe
each person the true potential
this potential stays locked away
every heart a forever fortress
every heart truly afraid to love
why don’t most flowers bloom?
building blocks
slowly slowly
everything is possible
slowly slowly
a single touch
another person so close
the walls that trap us are not forever
scratch at them and one day
either you will break
or the wall will break
isn’t that a way to live?
at least there is a hope
there is always hope
even in death there is hope

fade away
to truly exist
do the unthinkable
break away
fade away
break away
love the world
forever is forever
can you see it

 

girl with blue eyes,
do you still exist
dream that doesn’t die
did you ever breathe this dirty air
of the real world

a new life different then the old life
could this be called running away
see in the face of each new person
a new world ready to love
a new lover ready to kiss
can’t the entire world just exist
exist as it truly is
everyone perfect
every moment joyous
every scene worthy of painting
and every smile a hard fought treasure

an old life invading the new life
could we have been better
are we such slaves to ourselves
dreams flutter forever in our heads
don’t they mean anything
there is beauty in you
there is beauty everywhere
it is a captive emotion
each person a forever universe
each person the true potential
this potential stays locked away
every heart a forever fortress
every heart truly afraid to love
why don’t most flowers bloom?
building blocks
slowly slowly
everything is possible
slowly slowly
a single touch
another person so close
the walls that trap us are not forever
scratch at them and one day
either you will break
or the wall will break
isn’t that a way to live?
at least there is a hope
there is always hope
even in death there is hope

fade away
to truly exist
do the unthinkable
break away
fade away
break away
love the world
forever is forever
can you see it

the words don’t come
there is a perfect whisper
that if it were to flutter in your ear
would make everything right
the combination of words exist
the combination of touch exists
a perfect way to touch your arm
there is a real world
no matter the layers we fabricate
there is truth
there is always truth
our lack of comprehension
does not steal this truth

 

small memories
small wonder
small forevers
step by step by step
forever forward
the wall never buckles
unless forever
let us find the truth
let us keep searching
do you feel an emotion?

 

broken people
always
broken people
forever
always broken
can we accept?
kiss and love
love and whisper
whisper and touch
the world is as the world is
broken
cracked
let the cracks be perfect
let us fall through the cracks
may the cracks let us touch reality
the windows to the building block
of a perfect universe
a perfect universe like clockwork
only broken man can know

 

I Remember (poetry)

I come from a place that I do not remember

In this place

May we call it my home

There were colors that do not exist here

Fantastic shades that fill my waking mind

Yet never can be painted with my tongue

To take you there

To show you the places that made me

Me

I will tell again, these same words

I will try again to make real

The unreal

Why?

I do not know.

I truly do not even think you care

But for me, myself

I need to attempt

I need to delve back into the inside of my mind

To again feel that far away life

That is not mine to live any longer

Indulge me

Put up with me and my eccentricities

Know by sitting still and simply listening

You are giving a lost man

A blind man

A dying man

A happy memory

 

If I want to describe any one thing

I must describe everything

Because what is different about my last life

Is everything

Everything is a degree shy of what would seem normal

And the everything that was my everything was normal to me

That is an important point, yes

The everything is different

But it is not different to the us that called this everything home

Because it was all we knew

 

In this place, there lived people

The people whom I love, loved and will love

Yet who you, my very good friends

Have never known

And will never know

Know that my heart is divided

Bitterly

And that I say this not because I hate you

Rather

I love you too much

Just as I love those lovely creatures

Who populate my dreams

Yet are not here

How is a man ever to make peace

When he is a puzzle

Whose pieces can never be placed together

 

I dream

Not every night, or at least I don’t think

But they are in my mind many nights

Never fantasy

Never the future

Just the past

Those conversations I have had

Those same conversations I will never have again

Those hands I have touched

Whose bearer has aged, withered

And even if I was to touch again

Would not recognize

The world changes

And we change with it

And what was

Cannot be again

 

A thought just flew through my mind

A memory, really

Or maybe, how is it I can truly tell?

A girl I used to love has perished

I heard, and knew

Acknowledged and mourned

Yet

I did not go to the funeral

This girl who, she and I, we loved

I held her and told her sweet nothings

She is gone forever

Those words I whispered don’t exist anymore

And why

Why did I not see her again

Why did I not mourn more

Please, angel, if that is you

Forgive me, or, perhaps

Don’t

I was not there for you when you needed me

Is it true you took your own life?

I was not there when you needed me

Because I was busy

Burn me

Torture me

I deserve the worst, and beyond

Your suffering was heard by me

I just ignored you

You are the past

Not the present,

Not the future

I just ignored you

 

Well my friend

Where is it I have brought you?

I’m afraid very little

I could have told you something pretty

But instead you see my ghosts

Life has been good to me

Life has been good to me

But life is very long

And every step forward

Is a step farther away from something else

And my weeping daydreams come

During a fantastical present

Just

I remember

I remember

I remember

And I cannot forget

 

Transition (poetry)

Bubbles rise, burst, dissolve
After such a quick life
They exist no more
Just a faint ripple

A memory perturbing,

Those new bubbles
Themselves quickly rising
Quickly bursting
Quickly existing no longer

Nothing but a ripple

 

Somewhere
Deep inside those memories
That don’t float down the stream of our minds
Until after we truly know the imperfections of life
Until after we truly know the pure depths of sorrow
Deep inside these memories
Showered by our tears
Grown by the nurturing warmth of our despair

Forgotten, lost, and forever gone
A flower may bloom
A reminder that yes, beauty, she is real
That even after sorrow
Still, a flower can bloom
And a flower once appreciated

It does not fade
It does now wilt
It stays in bloom forever
Deep inside those memories
Whose ephemeral wonder

Live in our minds forever

 

Lost in this doleful garden we call our mind
A slave to those scents rising from the flowers of life
Powerless to stop the chain that links that arbitrary scent
With some distant memory
Either poignant or sad
Uplifting or melancholic
A forced arising in my mind
Like to hear that sound on the verge of the periphery
Which sounds so much like a sweet name calling
From a loving mother
That’s gone unheard for decades
That’s gone un-thought for many lives
Yet, here, the flower blooms
And its scent suddenly comes
Unwittingly, we smell these pretty little nothings
Not giving the action, indeed any action
The seriousness it deserves
Unwittingly we are brought back in time
To a time that is unreal
To a time when things were different then they are
How nice that memory of my mother
How sweet it makes me smile
And how long ago it was that such sweetness was so common
Oh, but that just a single drop in waterfall
Striking me bodily
Drowning me under the weight of a voluptiously lived life
Oh, stop, stop, stop
May the past sleep quietly
May those horrors I have stop haunting
May the past beauties stop forcing me to question the future
The weakness of humanity has an answer to the forever stream of memory
Forgetfulness
Amnesia
Surely, this is simply an escape
The right answer is to master the waterfall
To swim in its torrid waters
To be the true summation of all these disparities
Which are the hallmark of an angelic life
Yet, the scents coming from this garden
They do not live in the world of rationale
They operate much like a dream
It is not decipherable in words
What poignancy these dreams have
It is the language of atmosphere
Of  that arbitrary fear of the night
And that captivating wonder

Of forever loveliness
Sometimes, a scent may come from this garden
And to truly interact with it
To understand the intricacies that saturate its saturated essence
Would take that same impossible person who we were
At this memories creation
To truly do this
We must devolve, revolve, dissolve this person we are
To be the person we are not anymore
Perhaps this could be wonderful
This could be the way to live a meaningful life
But
Again
That bane: human weakness
Forcing me doubt at the peak of a cliff
Myself
So assured that yes, I can undergo metamorphosis midjump
I can become that angelic bird that can fly through these memories
Yet fear of the unknown
That wiggling creature: doubt
And human weakness breaks me down
And like all those other lost souls
So close to a true calling
A true resonance
We renounce the embracement of the magic of this garden
We choose to forget
To ignore
The lives we’ve already lived
The wonders we’ve already seen
The universes that exist nowhere
Except in those invisible voids
Deep in our mind
That we refuse to illuminate
Afraid of awakening ghouls
When really there is only treasure

 

Things change
Fall apart
Come undone
The strong brick wall crumbles
Becomes dust
And those wonders it supported
Those who depended on it for protection
All turn to dust with the wall
Sad? Yes
Tragic? Yes
Yet
One cannot blame the wall for aging
For falling victim to that benevolent mistress
Time
She captures us all
Simply remember
All that you have right now
The life you lead
The people you love
The happiness you glide through
And those sorrows you weep through
They will all be gone
They will all be gone forever
All that you, you, truly have
Is this sand quickly falling through your hands
The hour glass escaping the confines of your fingers
Don’t chase what is impossible to capture
Just enjoy that sweetness running through your hands
While it still runs through your hands

 

I Will Live Forever (poetry)

flowers bloom

pick them they wilt

there is nothing left to give

of those beautiful things

known to be true­­­

 

our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

squander youth

squander today

squander this moment

our lives are ahead of us

forever young

the canvas of life ahead of us

the future forever ahead of us

squander this moment

squander today

we’ve earned a break

our lives are ahead of us

don’t dare look in the mirror

don’t dare notice youth fading

when did it become okay to live a normal life

when did passion become expendable

are lives ahead of us

our lives ahead of us

another night slipped away

another night that didn’t mean anything

our lives ahead of us

are lives ahead of us

 

life begins with no confusion

clear sighted, far sighted

dreams just steps away

life as a dream

perfection as attainable

remember how you used to be

words raining from your mouth

their holiness unnoticed

the fragrance of poetry from every sparkle of the eye

life as a dream

dreams just steps away

is that really how we thought?

is that really who we were?

when did the fountain run dry?

when did we lose the ability to speak

when did we forget,

all of the poetry of the world

is it still there, all around us?

was it ever even there?

 

trying again

trying harder

starting again

starting harder

say what it is

say what it really is

make the words bend to emotion

let them lose the staleness of reality

let them be imbued with magic, grace

unreality

let them be imbued with the way the world truly is

a metaphor for the needed spiritual awakening

the continuous river from the bubbling start

through the rapids, meanders, forks,

till then, again, to meet the sea

touching those pretty waterfalls of its youth

just the once

flowing through every bend

just the once

man, us, you, me

these same hands that used to hold a rattle,

now working to buy a rattle,

these same legs once walked these same streets

with people who aren’t here, not as they were

the memories don’t fade

that all happened didn’t it?

does a river remember,

running over every stone

a joke unthought of until that one little moment

and if that moment didn’t happen? That joke? Would it still exist?

how sweet a memory

only after it’s repetition becomes impossible,

only after the memory leaves us,

nothing but a faint imprint that once, something happened

and it was a part of us

but what was it again? was it beautiful?

we simply rush downstream

we rush back to the sea

we spend our one life rushing towards an end

with no real knowledge of why we go there

with no real knowledge if we have to go there

 

why do we live as lies?

why aren’t we living how we know is right?

ignoring those things that call after our hearts,

that chase our waking minds

whose spirit lives in the closed garden of our structured self perception

why are we convinced that dreams belong just to idle fantasy

truth is our only reality

yet, we give it willingly to benevolent thieves

we allow the false imposition of someone else’s dreams

we do not trust our own hearts to guide us,

we do not trust our own definition of happiness to sate us

we bow to the whims of reality

we walk in a line that was set for us

with no question of climbing the vistas that are on every side

with no question of stopping and stopping and wondering at it all

we walk in a line that we have locked ourselves to

we are scared of our own reality

we are too lazy to chase our own reality

how dare we? how dare we squander precious life?

the only thing worth chasing

the only thing worth trying for

self honesty in every moment

immolate life to a deity greater then judgmental eyes

 

try, and perhaps fail

try, and perhaps be mocked

try to carve at inner perfection with imperfect tools

there is no true way to create that monolith in your mind

so be it

do not be afraid

create your imperfection

in an imperfect world

an imperfect attempt at chasing perfection

may be the closest we have to perfection

and an honest attempt at obeying the truth in your heart

may be the closest thing to a perfect life

in an imperfect world

Another Attempt To Fly (poetry)

loneliness is being in a crowded room

where no one meets your eye

 

sitting happily, not knowing this is what happiness is

not knowing until it departs, and in mourning

that day that was just another day,

imbued with nothing more than a normal sunrise and a few laughs

is now richly detailed with a light we didn’t apply at the time

so easy to miss the past

so easy to stand in the shadow of the monolith of the lives we’ve lived

exclaiming light has departed, when we keep ourselves in the dark

so easy to forget that now: now is its own fresh day

imbued with nothing more than a different sunrise and different laughs

we silently mourn  a past no longer with us

even worse: we mourn a future whose losses we can predict and weep for

even though the pleasure we are weeping for has yet to pass

losing the pleasure of the moment

in that dark chasm of our past and future

 

that wrong lesson learned from Icarus’

man doomed to fear the power of the sun

when the true enemy is frigid reality

of all of us who never attempted flight

who never knew the slightest hint of the suns warm rays

who never rose above the most close objects

to see there were vistas worth flying towards

things worth being burned over

 

all these colors

aren’t they the same

weren’t we here before?

have we ever left?

what is it that all this is?

what is it all this is for?

 

here in a different season of life

the world has changed yet we are the same

the new sunrise conquered by an unknown vitality

how are we to know how to survive

how are we supposed to appreciate the beauty of a new world

when we’ve just discovered our own world

when we’ve just discovered that our own world

the only world we’ve ever know

was temporal

is gone

 

knowing that death will catch us all

knowing that everything we touch will decay

ourselves only fleeting splashes of light

so be it

so be it

so be it

we must make peace

we attempt to make peace

how can one ever make peace?

we are dying

death is chasing us

she is there

she is right there

life is going to leave us

we will never live again

the sweet garden of our nirvana is having its flowers picked

mother father brother lover

we will never see them again

break reality

chase that ephemeral angel

I will live forever

lie to yourself

escape in a constructed reality

you must be true to your existential song

life will always be here

change the world

death is chasing us

she is breathing, so close

she is there

she is right there

 

it’s gone!

that dream in my kind slumber

lavishly wrapping me in a disappeared reality

will that conversation ever happen again?

will my heart ever be so rich with emotion?

bring it back

recreate it

let’s live life again

let’s watch our favorite bits

laugh over a highlights reel

how dare it just be once

how could once ever be enough

come back here!

those who are gone, I miss you

those who are here

we must make each moment into a memory

life is disappearing

how is it that everything has already happened?

the promise of potential only slightly appeases

the sorrow of what will never happen again

 

and here, suddenly, a new emotion

the sadness is not that so much life is already lived

the sadness in not that death and the end is a shadow in the sky

the sadness is that now, we have invested in life

we have taken a blank canvas and began to make it beautiful

we will never make it perfect

that is not the point of life

what we will never do

is have the blank canvas again

every stroke is unrepeatable

and oh, each stroke: so beautiful

but just the once is it made

and the emotion that went into its creation

we can feel its heat from the memory of the canvas

but never again will we know the fire of its creation

 

those times that were here!

weren’t they just here!

just around the last corner

surely walking distance

I remember the feel of gravel

surely some is even stuck still in my shoe

how can it be that was another life ago

how can it be that I am still so ready

to finish the second half of that conversation

the words ready to spill from my tongue

the image burned in my mind

a lifetime ago feeling more vivid then this moment

 

a need to feel something

to again be enraptured with the passion of youth

to again confront the wonders of life for the first time

here we are

past the turmoil of becoming who we were meant to be

a completed human being

we have the capability to do anything

without the knowledge of what it is we should do

we fear our weakness, we should take the easy route

self mutilate our spiritual perfection

drag ourselves through the dirt

from the lows we’ve already experienced

we know how to ascend to this lofty perch of right here again

how much easier this, then to gaze at the endless summit

of the high peak we have yet to climb

it just gets steeper going forward

life in the end will kill us

perhaps happiness is more important then perfection

perhaps ignorance is better than shades of grey

perhaps gentle lies are better than the oft promised nirvana of truth

perhaps lies are better than truth,

why break ourselves on the door that will not open?

 

let’s put all these things together

form all the disparate pieces into an image

you, me, the other: what does it all mean?

what did this vast tangled web produce?

what has a life filled with so many memories created?

we are building towards a crescendo, aren’t we?

is everything not going to become magnificent in the next stanza?

can we not just sit placid here, comfortable that tomorrow will produce the reality of our daydreams?

is the difference between the real life of dreams and our present reality

is it just realizing that today, we must capture our dreams

every tomorrow will be another today

any yesterday not working for tomorrow was wasted

is today going to be a yesterday, or a tomorrow?

oh, the sweet heart screams logic

we know our weakness

we know our weakness

we know our weakness

while still another day goes by

dreaming about a tomorrow

that’s just been pushed one more day farther away from reality

In Bloom (poetry)

Things run away, can’t find them

Yet  we remember, long, and despair their loss

Maybe one day the lost are found again

But does their reoccurrence make peace

With the sorrow when they were departed?

 

A flower in first bloom

That sign of regeneration

Sublime and terrible

Poignant sign of the constant regeneration

The cyclical re-enchantment of our universe

Coupled with all those past nirvana’s

The faded pedals from seasons past

Fallen to the ground, decayed, and now dust

Reminder of the fragility of life, and, ultimately, its passing

Heart wrenching: our fallibility

Heartwarming: our potential

Yet, now, in the season of our bloom,

What do we make of it?

What does it mean to be in season?

Feeling these first pulls of gravity on our branch

Knowing that no longer we grow

No

All we are is the vibrant color we were destined to be

Here, and now

This mode of perfection we’ve striven towards

And again

And again

What do we make of it

What is it to be here, and now?

To have this potential

This potential that is the meaning of our lives

 

Here I am, now, typing at a laptop

Just as you, yourself, are somewhere

Not here, not near, but real

Young and still vibrant

Reading and watching those people who were once like us

Seasons past, faded, and failed

It will never strike us

States our hearts

While our subconscious mind moves the boundary

Of where success lies

Deeply

Into the nether lands of the easily attainable

The low hanging fruit that have been picked clean

Maybe there is still a little nectar left

But we could have ascended new summits!

To use this momentum given to us by gods graces

This momentum that is a universal gift

Shared by you, me, and the other

To metamorphose, to grow wings, to fly

There once, once upon a,

Upon a something

A belief that YES, it is attainable

Perfection

Bliss

Magic

And now

That we are in bloom

The reality of our downfall

Our  eventual decline: fall to the ground, decay, and then dust

Constantly

Always

Hanging over our completed ascension

Yes, I can see the future

We over-ripen: drop at our peak

Accomplishing only those things

That were to be the subject within our destinies story

On the road to something greater

Brighter

 

Or something

Don’t trust these monologues

Brains frazzled, disconnected and afraid

Looking for poignancy and romance

Looking for a reason

Yes, to accept failure

But there can only be the aesthetic or the real

Rarely does a man find both

The failure of this poem

And a life without passionate words

Comes with the gift of rapture in the waking world

No one may learn the secret colors of this, my private mind

But what is wrong if it is only I who have the pleasure of their revelation

To swim deeply in those waters I aspire to communicate

To share is noble

To hoard is selfish

But if I hoard

I get more of these dreamtime fantasies I wish to propagate

Staying in the reservoir of my own soul

Fuck any god who may despair at my case

Beauty is what I crave

My beauty is mine

And mine alone

 

Or something

Is this the truth?

My mind feels no revelation

This is not what feels real

Just another layer of fallacy

Another satellite

Orbiting the truth

Never coming closer on its gravitational arc

Yet, not so far away from my nucleus

Maybe an intelligent man

Could find the measure of me

Using this disparity of my lies

But I am no such man

And I tell you,

It is not worth your time in bloom

To try to understand me

Rather, delve into your own mind

Those waters with endless depth

Or

Better yet,

Make that art that must be real

That personally,

I am to imperfect to truly grasp

 

Or something

Yes, that is something

This feels real

Something to sink my teeth in

To devour

Yet

Again, it is not all true

Help me

help me

To be that man that I still want to be

To escape this disorganized cycle

Arrogance and despair

Despair and arrogance

Take away self worth

Realize you are nothing

An ant has the same validity

From the perspective of the closest star

As whatever our greatest accomplishments may be

Oh,

It is true

Dark, dark, dark

The truth is dark

Yesterday and today,

Yet for tomorrow

May we look towards the future

That blank page

Those unchartered shores,

May we persevere together

Fight these waves

Illusion, delusion

Yet, partially,

Overwhelmingly real

May we fight like men

Men still in our prime

Gifted with the same natural virtues of our forebears

Perhaps more so

May we add to the litany

May we rise to the top of the peaks we idolize

Fantasize

And weep for

May we go there, and lay a thin sprinkling of dust

Adding nothing meaningful

Yet the same amount added as those before us

May we serve the future

No matter how imperfectly

Give them a fresh layer,

Imperceptibly higher,

Yet still, microscopically, a higher vantage point

And if it fails to sate,

A thin excuse for a noble life

Our effort will not be in vain

Perhaps that light dusting we laid

Will be the final critical layer

Or close to that critical layer

That will raise our descendants

To that fantastic revelation

That nirvana all dreams are made of

Where they will be lifted from the darkness

And for the first time

The very first time

See that ethereal  light of truth

In all her glory

Blue (poetry)

drifting out of place
wasn’t there somewhere we were supposed to go
wasn’t there something we were dreaming about

big open skys
still crowd my tired eyes
I remember something different then here
here is here is here is here
but where was I going to?
wake up, brush teeth, get dressed, make bed
blinds open
there is that blue sky
remembering running so fast
laughter in every part of me
was that ever me
was that yesterday or never

another day
another day
smile at the bus driver
thank you sir, thank you
walking to work
get coffee
small talk
what is it we are saying
what is it I’ve ever said
what is priority number one
I can’t really remember
what was I just saying?
I really can’t remember
everyone looking at me
fuck this
fuck what?
let me not break free
let me gather my thoughts
fuck you blue sky
get out of my dreams
you are not where I am
I am not where you are
it is not as it is
it is not as I remember
it is what it is
it is all that it is ever going to be
head held high

a moment of weakness
that shudder of a moment
sometimes, we all have moments of doubt
there are so many lives we are not living
yet, this is all we are. This one life.
This and only this.
Of course I wish I was someone else
Of course, I know that whoever I was
I would dream another dream
Lying on my back
Didn’t go to work today
Maybe it’s a holiday
Maybe, I just had to be human
Children playing over on the grassy field
Looking up at that big ol sky
Blue and blue and blue
So large
So large
I could fall into it
I could dream into it

Who am I again?
Who is it I was ever going to be?
What’s the difference?
Today let me fall into the sky
Let me be nothing else
Except exactly what I am

motherfuckingamie (poetry)

motherfuckingamie

 

you tear my brain apart

memory on top of memory

and always that feeling of what we could have been

 

to say I love you is a lie

though I do love you

angel closest to my heart

but what I say is I could have loved you

as a man loves a god

or worships a woman

you are worth loving

you are worth loving

 

devil angel

closest to my heart

I wish you weren’t the one who I’ve made you

phantom of my subconscious

temptress who no longer tempts

you are not for me

you are not for me

 

oh

love

how sadly unpoignant

these silly emotions

they fly through everyone

they mean nothing

because they are not special

a man loved a woman

and the woman disappears

what does one do with that emotion?

put it in a bottle

forget it

but

sometimes

rub the bottle

and pray, if futilely

for a genie

 

there is an emotion here

how strange

when I thought all the passion was forgotten

how absurd

when I know that this emotion

is nothing but a bother

something that I pray I never share with you

but angelest precious

girl of my dreams

who I don’t even love

I don’t even worship

I don’t even want

I just know you are the girl of my dreams