The price of freedom smiles at your power tie
at the half built houses you call salvation
13 hungry monkeys won’t stop haunting me.
driven to the brink of extinction
then finally
let free.
to taste the inevitable death
of us
to seize the reigns of realization
and thrust my invisible momentary manhood
into a stream of uncertain glances
to cry freely
as dark green streams, winding their way
from his highest peaks
to her deepest depths
this is remembering
this takes direct experience
the only way to liberation
the only way to say yes, or no
to a vessel that constantly questions.
in places of light
we roam, shadows remind from where we’ve come
your eyes last forever,
those houses will fall.
He’s got an Iron Horse
and a puppy
on a leash, “sit, sit”
he pushes on his backside
to gain compliance.
this dark green rectangular shape is your body
the extra large wingless mosquitos are your thoughts
look how they dance
look at the way you fidget
in an idea
that your time is wasted
look at how many branches create
the contrasting tendrils
at the brink of your focusing vision.
my heart
is a capsizing ship.
but fear is thwarted
as i shape shift into a submarine.
I can see everything through my pera-scope
it’s night and day
out there
but it remains constantly
in-between down hear
i cannot tell the difference between
breakfast and dinner.
am i eating sauerkraut or straw soaked in horse urine?
my tears are filtered through black
plastic eyelashes
in order not to poison the 12 spiders
who have become my immediate family.
I smile at the thought of closure, but know
my thoughts will never end.
there are no periods at the end
of this, life sentence.
no time markers delineating
a mind, whos breadth breeds
the markers within each split second
within each eternal tick of elevating consciousness.
you shout “YOUR CIRCULAR SWIRLING REASONING IS BINDING MY REASON FOR BEING!”
I’m supposed to do stuff, you know, get bigger and stronger,
make things for other people to get bigger and stronger with.
how can i rest in a pond who’s blackness frightens me to death.
or is my point becoming dulled by my own lack of faith in a historical attempt
to create a futile existence.
breathing in…
breathing out…
what happens in-between is this
eyes meeting to create an enormous monkey the size of skyscrapers sculpted from violet candle wax. we inject our hard needle like wicks into every inch of his shining skin then light, as stars begin to shimmer and darkening blue sky becomes black. the masses gather, joining hands, flicker flame lights reflect in a billion crying eyes. your heart flashes red and black like the hand warning of the danger of heavy metal speeding imminent death.
blinking
smiling.
THESE
are the lights marking passages
in and out of the tube like channels
of our reality
reminders
as homeless bearded men smile.
in times of tragedy
you hold me
like my mother used to do
in infancy
cradling away my fear
like rain to filth
on your living body.
my responses are instantaneous
and as fleeting as the four pigeons
that dive out of sight.
these words are not boundaries
our hearts are cactuses,
prickly
filled with water, longing for water,
yet surviving on what we already have,
your eyes are like olives
tasty
and sometimes dirty.