State of Sour

do not thrive on hate
even if lips let escape

the seldom expletive
is no cause for alarm

say what you will,
but reap what you say

our disputatious era
is still bereft of humanity

shall we ever be fully correct
caught up in minor moments
caught up in malediction

give neighbors a chance
to stir in the ingredients
of kindness and veneration


The Eyes

Grace is ephemeral,
lacerated by time

Aesthetics are eternal
ignoring the persona

What is a tablet of melatonin crushed into a swirling ice-storm of memory

There are no questions!

If every wanton idea spoke with a mark,
there would be no disease to convert us to puritans and lab technicians

Forgiving is the first step,
but forgetting is impossible unless your mind collapses to the demands of capital

I didn’t die any;
I compensated

From politics, persuasion, out to personality, on a strange island-

My eyes,
the ones that grew without a trace of my own volition,
saw nothing out in front of me;

a permanent endlessness that sings like a bluebird without fright;

as I walk through the mist, the wholeness of my body is always ready for the taking,

back to consort with the humus and sediment,
from which many edible weeds grow to feed our sacrifice

every little last believable iota of life was kindled together long before we had language and concepts of the universe.

Where we come from is the decay of better forms
broken down into a palatable gum.
The spent grain that went out with the compost,
went well into my hollow leg.

Yet I still push to love days and sleep,
softening the inflammation of society

Versions of Inebriation

Exit to the worst from the bleeding structure.
Some elements of previous time will exist as long as I let them.
My breathing must be controlled.
I remember the folly of my extended adolescence like it was all yesterday,
like it was earlier today,
like it is happening now,
like it hasn’t happened yet!
Nothing intertwines so well as the fibers of our memory.
Is it crude to value myself so highly?
Is it complacent to be unlike everyone else I have ever known?
We die as easily as other species, or more so.
We are frail;
we are the most self-destructive and the most anti-intuitive.
Admitting allegiance to parasitism and a lack of goodness, is not to say we deserve cruelty or decimation.
The flaws must be cataloged and chronicled, and they have been.
I am attempting to change myself,
in the meantime;
becoming closer to the spaces between each and every second.

Rightfully Made

Blotchy and surreal memories are no better than dreams.
Subscribing to a scale of grayness; a contrast of values-
Set to everything that was once in the way.
Who was it then?
Obviously a different character than now,
but not only from cellular or intellectual reformation and growth.
Different now because those actions are simply incorporeal memories,
and when they were occurring,
they were actual actions being undertaken.

We must then always be our future self incarnate,
with the notion that we are preparing for future actions and a state of being. Whimsy today is tomorrow’s bravado.
Sameness is the conviction to one’s remembrance and belief that memorable actions are still occurring.
We must demystify the spirit and be strong.
If actions of the past are not occurring at present, by logic, there is a difference.
Days, weeks, months and all other increments are of no importance.
Yet everything that is here ages through time.