Thursday, August 9, 2012


As the deep and moody night fell into me
All memory was hushed to a catacomb
Made new once more, through the darkened hour
Nouveau interest came over me and for the first time,
Art became song; slow, natural, methodical. I listen & long for more
Listened to the quiet wind that followed a soft path over my shoulders
Resting slightly for a seconds pause near that place where a heart still murmured.
Soon, a sweet serenade came into focus and with eyes closed
My fingers once more, found their way into the night; to a new medium, a new cause.

Into the room my fingerprints float and
Through minuscule motion, grand movement is heard
Tickling that curiosity of how without sight so much color is seen
Through sound and scent alone, my body hears foreign tongue's
Complexities that somehow, now, gain confidence through comprehension
Aligned with perfect interpretation, I feel further into this indigo moment;
Seeking nothing, laid open to the night as a pupil without conditioning.
Soon, the pride of physical prowess is revealed; silent characters come alive

Muscles toiling daily whose purpose is to remain buried
Waltz forward in delicate haste, to be granted impulsive audience is divine
As though to smoke from their heated release, tendons too lack pretense
There is time here for all to grasp everything needed, reinvention is at hand
Balance and Alignment will now be the new plots on this map of One;
Foremost and forthwith, the saturation of all senses will be granted
Living in this moment has been a virtuous journey, earned through difficulty
Achievement has been studied and made note of, with the direct intention of 'Now'.

Bathing in cool night air has cleansed my rusted articulation, pure privacy; Trust.
For who is there to doubt that these needs exist or hold meaning?
Thoughts of the like are barren and for good cause; extinction finds its way to uselessness.
Thrown long over the shoulder of never looking back, I disengage those possibilities
The energy of who I am was born alone and into that concept I'll need no further coercion
Swelling towards that climactic outcome is a glory all my own to bask in
Given due is, after all, the softest wish of any suppressed pleasure that obeys restrict ordinance.
And I do, O how I do obey.

The lost moments of every day are catalogued and into that strongly bound manifest, they wait.
There are days for the taking when reluctance even dies down...
To be heard is the involuntary wish of that cosmos that lie within
Snuffed, hushed & beaten away is the desperate bitch of a housewife, to my own rampant dedication
Too loyal will some day, gratify the diamond forming in every rough.
Blackest coal strips away itself to reveal what has been earned under duress and pristine loyalty.
Karmic laws indeed have their own machinations to uphold, that omnipotence is untouchable
And when that time comes for lone wolves to roam free, the howl will come from within.

The only duty from that point on, will be to run on soft paws made sturdy
Through earned respect and trust.

Again, eyes closed, this foreplay of thought bristles under the cool new morning
For night has fallen away once more but not without gifting its essence;
Through lucid tutoring, the active mind made to wander of its own accord, grows anxious
Dreaming throughout the waking day has opened the consequence of how best to approach intention
I take the seed of toil & time and today begins a new internship; to follow through in dual purpose.
There will come a time when that howl is heard, the wild in me awakened once more
Distant lands with distinct purpose will become the ground I tread upon
Seeking nothing but the day ahead and the feeding of all five senses with my sensitivity- returned.

Friday, August 3, 2012


We are estranged; Myself and I
Demagnetized compass with little effort for anything
My ears have been hushed
Eyes, blinded
Mouth, strapped shut
Collectively, my senses march-
In revolt of You.
And yet, you've done nothing;
Which is worse?
Nothing to prevent?
Nothing to stop?
Well, know when to say when
The 'You' in each case-
Is Me
The 'I' I loathe to connect with;
To assert and nod in favor (or out)
Of anything.
There is nonsense one either side of the lines,
Fuck what's in between.
Dissecting language holds no answers
Only creative ways to stamp the envelope
That I continually mail out, with intent to
It is, as always and after all-
Addressed to me.
Pretending the destination is unknown;
The intent holds a clause
Asterisk beware
For here within my mind frame,
You hold indefinite employment.
Read, read away
But at your own risk.
This disease is a divisive one
I mock and call my own-
Out of hiding and once remittance gains value,
A foot to the face;
My 'literal limberness' has no shame
An adjective I caress
As when it's time for paining my faults,
I am good, oh so good.
Plagiarism knows nothing on these essay's
They are akin to all my own
Granting pristine description as an ode in 'attempt'
Yes, yes, I attempt to define
Through grotesque measure
How I want to grab and annihilate
All that cripples me.
For you see,
Only within acknowledgement will I truly grasp the concept
Of how to understand and then negate
All that ails me.

Thursday, August 2, 2012


Angled elsewhere
Flighty discrepancies dance
Thinner and thinner
A tear is now inevitable.
The underbelly of all I've protected is
Touched, so much touched; paper fingers...
Leading nowhere.
Spinal cords writhing in panic
Hoping to bend in time to make contact
With the 'nothing' that lies gently just out of reach.
Smooth red sinew, unbroken lines;

Enough of questions that seek answers
There is no rhythmic union to be found
Only more assumptions of what may come,
Of yesterday, tomorrow and three Summers from my 40th.
What purpose can be felt in such dealings?
The heart pumps for today
Blood flows through each articulated moment
Indifferent to this mind
Could these patterns be seen more properly
In inappropriate light?
Would then the meaning of these days, suffice?

This is madness, to question the questions.
Or is it? How many levels must be travelled
In the revelation of who we may be?
I am touching what my mind feels
Drawing what hands wish to mold.
Calculation of felt emotions turn to amatorial bliss
Like math, equations become algebraic.
Is there relevance in the circumference of my needs,
Divided by Pi?