"Thank U" epiphany

I would let you have it all
Each heartbeat, every breath
In moments like these
When I love myself
In such rare moments as these
You could take it all
Leave me back at square one
With nothing to work with
And nothing to gain
A mountain of a mole hill
I'd want you to soak in this feeling
Let it stain you like dye
Fly it like a flag
Hit the floor drunk with the ecstasy
Bust your head and wind up in the hospital
It's yours for the taking and so much more
If you can only help me know the truth
And ask of me one simple request
"How about not equating death with stopping?"
Please may the fire in my heart that acknowledges truth
Blaze all the brighter in the acceptance of this
For it is the biggest and best truth one could ever know

Foot in the Future

Squeezing my heart
The guilt of condemnation
Holds me down
With nowhere to turn
Nothing to be done
My foot's in the future
Where it doesn't belong

Wound sewn up all wrong
Ripped out the suture
Next time maybe a gun
Call it a lesson to learn
Get used to the sound
Of critical indignation
That's tearing me apart

Buffer

Sleep
Delete
Wash away waking life
A fraction of the day
Compressed and forgotten
Tossed away willingly
Not governed by time
Rendered powerless
Unconcerned and unattached
Free and floating falling into infinity
Gravity does not exist in this realm
Of orgasmic vertigo
A pillow for my head damp with tears
Is dry when I wake

Into Deeper Waters

I'm wading into deeper water
There is a place where the sun shines brighter
Empty as the next moment seems
To my sin blinded eye
Only to receive a flash of grace
A foreshadowing
A taste of eternity with the great I AM
Deeper water cover me
Shimmers of light flashing from the ripples
Coming from my sluggish legs
But moving
Forward
Into the joy of creating with the great I AM
Shallow water far behind
Teach me to smile again
The exquisite rapture of sympathy
Remove this hardened heart
Toss it to the bank
Replace it with compassion
Transmute desire into love
Into blossoming passion for the great I AM
Let me see You in my brothers' eyes
And offer my life for theirs

a prophecy of Babel 2.0

This tower will fall
humiliating, humbling
razed to rubble through
force of confusion
exposing the weakness
revealing the softness
of those trusting
it's shelter
the gods who maintained
fooled us all
those wraiths convinced us
the invisible crown
was a perfect fit
for our imperfect heads

Failed Telepathic Experiment #224

It's obvious
Static masked my thoughts
She couldn't plow through to truth
For I was still breathing
The gun in her purse
Much to my disappointment
Fully loaded and cold
I walked away
Navigated by telepathic insects
Scraping electrical pathways
Riding bitter cells, binary parasites,
Through narcotic blunted veins
To head and heart
Either one my preferred destination
Of her merciful ammunition

The Wrong Mister Morrison (an except from a longer work of fiction, as are we all)

I'm a sad excuse for a psycho
I ain't consistent enough
I called you here, why I don't know
You just both seemed so tough
And you both sang like gurus
From the land of the east
Chanting your Hare Krishna's
I always thought it was neat
You said you should start chanting
Cuz if you go while you are
You're gonna go straight to Godhead
Comin' back as a star

Yes, I'm a sad excuse for a wild man
My profile's way too low
And I wear the shoes of a large man
I wear a large man's clothes
Got mechanisms of torture
Stuff that'll scare you cold
I'll whip 'em out and I'll use 'em
If you ever get out of control
I'll put the wheaties in the bowl
I'll feed the newbies and the trolls
I used to live for rock and roll
But now that world has wrecked my soul
Yes you can bet that world killed my soul


Oh, I'm a bad excuse for a dead man
All that breathing gives me away
I can't convince nobody, nobody
My eyes move in my face

Thank you Mister Morrison
But I think we got the wrong Mister Morrison
I said
Thank you Mister Morrison
But I think we got the wrong Mr. Morrison

A Poet's Last Words

By the time he wrote those words
his soul had sprung a leak
the best he had to offer
long ago had seeped into the ether

He put pen to paper
but the emptiness mocked him
dared him to write a single word
he knew to be true

It would be the first
though words had flown through him
blood to a punctured vein
from the days when his heart was strong

By the time he wrote those words
the needle fluttered on "E"
the last drops, too precious to waste
he knew they'd be the last

The first to admit they never "got him"
with his too-deep jumble of esoterica
he took comfort in the hope that death would bring them understanding
if he couldn't change the world surely the world would change for him

On the day he wrote those words he realized
the sacrifices he made for his art
all but the last were pointless
there's no getting around impermanence

With shaky hands and weak gripping fingers
taking up the paper's challenge he wrote those words
"I am..."
in an instant Truth slayed him

Subsumed into the primal substance
a thief no more
unconcerned at last with being
forgotten

Under a Storm Warning

from high above the clouds billions of raindrops
shapeshift in free fall weightless collective vertigo
moonlight's glow casts a shimmer on the screen
blink-and-you'll-miss-it stabs of lightning
slash holes in dark clouds that reconnect with
the exhilarating, damning clash of God's displeasure
deafening earth-shaking thunder one after the other
I turn my music down so I can hear the din
all the windows in this hail-washed house have drapes drawn apart, shades rolled up
so I can watch the majestic display and pray
for a tornado to swing by just close enough
for me to gaze at but so faraway as to assure no damage to my observatory

these storms call to mind
secrets, reminisces surprising, in their own personal way terrifying

knew a dude in high school
found out too late he was the go-to man for controlled substances in those days
this kind of weather would send him to the phone
dialing Rhonda's number and she knew exactly what the call was about
the wind that swirled 'round the eye told her
she hit the ignition in the cute cherry red Ford truck he'd given her and braved the storm until she made it to his house

maybe it was an adolescent power trip
the sensation he felt through his loins when the thunder spoke
then when it screamed he thrust
she melted, the explosive crash drowning out the involuntary gasp which escaped through clinched teeth, the precursor to secret tears she seemed to have no control over
pitch dark, intermittent lightning strikes to illuminate the Storm King sprawled out beneath her, the look of aroused determination on his face growing more elastic with the clatter of hailstones on glass windows

I never knew about the drugs, didn't need them then, though I sorely need them now
but I knew he called Rhonda every time weather turned severe
the talk amongst peers was that the two of them were never seen together in an underground shelter no matter how bad the moon may have risen
Nudge nudge wink wink a nods as good as a wink to a blind horse say no more, squire, say no more!

I envied them
I broke cheap champagne glasses when the storm came and used them
to carve snaking tendrils across my wrists
barely any blood shed but scared the s h I t out of that witch my dad married after mom left
it was my failsafe procedure to assure at least another month away from them
yes, the mental hospital was preferable

the rain fell hard on the Doctor's house
weatherman said tornadoes were inevitable
flipped a switch in my brain, activated a mean streak
Doctor's favorite was insufferable
brewed a gallon of sweet tea every day and drank every drop
I saw lightnin on the horizon but that Big Bad Bear with the gun he stole from the Doc was nowhere to be found
I'd be leaving soon
I took out the gallon pitcher from the refrigerator
not even cold yet
unzipped my too-tight jeans
hung my spout over the edge and turned the beverage into 1/2 sweet tea & 1/2 cloudy dark yellow urine
placed it back in the fridge and waited

sat with him that night, playing guitar, singing incomprehensible songs, watching him drink that piss tea and possessed by just enough evil to laugh
in a ridiculously high pitch and enunciated to where I knew he couldn't understand what I was saying...
I sang
"pissed in yer tea you know I pissed in your tea
aren't you so pissed off at me?"
he never found out, else I probably would not be here to tell the tale

I had my excuses
broken and discarded
I was lost
toyed with the idea of being a Satanist
still lost
standing outside in the middle of an electrical storm
yes, I'm afraid
I'm told family members have been killed by a well-placed bolt and if it's good enough for them
by God
it's good enough for me
rain baptizes me, too stupid to come in out of it
the thunder makes me jerk and shudder
lightning a brilliant fireworks show surpassing the best available powder and fire variety
I have become part and parcel of this thunderstorm
wait only for the appointed bolt to impale me with it's rapier voltage
here he come swingin' I almost missed him what with his night-black get-up-camouflaged by the black night that tried to hide me from his sight
alas, foiled by too much lightning

voltage from the heavens
I could personally think of much worse