Tired of the itch,
tired of the chase
looking for what I don’t have
while the world
goes down in flames,
making excuses about
how it’s ingrained,
when all it really takes
is discipline
mixed with a little bit of
pace

Still,
I hover in the wind,
let me float back through
the wild fields of dopamine
where we all still take refuge
inside of a haze,
fearing truth,
destroying self-worth
to secure
temporary comfort

My energy
is frozen in time,
it siphons into everyone I touch
with each heavy hearted step,
forging the very culture
I am certain
is the reason life is so hard
because I’ve seen the depths
of my own broken parts
and still hear a voice
in the back of my head
ring out:

“If reality
is set in stone by
how you perceive,
and you can see
the endlessness of it all,
then why do you set store by
any so-called beliefs?
Isn’t that just
habit underneath?”

What if all the chemicals
and screens
disappeared from the earth,
would you crawl
out of your skin
or rise to the task?
it is said that there is no cure
because answers
thrive only in silence
when one learns how to ask

Instead we accelerate
to consume noise
through wild fields of dopamine,
clawing with no poise-
we exploit weakness
for personal gain
until sincerity bleeds
from the picture
and there’s no room left in frame
for an honest work of art
because we’d rather
exhaust the canvas
with moments devoid of heart

Humility is a difficult lesson
most live in reverie
as hollow, floating silhouettes
desperate to equate value
with material progress
until one of two options remain:
convene with the
shaking breaths
or envision a hapless fate

Darkness, it looms
pleading to steer our
attention
to do nothing and sit with grace,
showing a natural way
to create harmony
while sifting through
time and space,
yet we continue to
sit upon ivory towers
ignoring balance
that only succeeds
with the fusion of light,
because in darkness
is the beginning of all life

The inebriation of exhalation as the wild beast burns it's gut.
A trampling hoof that guides aloof this creature's weathered foot.
Time again a gait that fails
the weathered engine derails.

The other follows, a steady pace,
pursuing subtly an unfamiliar face.
Their paths crossed not without reason
though looking now it cannot see them.
What past has taught the future taunts with,
its exhausting, this furious pursuit of treats.
It helps the creature to it's feet.

What east feeds, west shall feast on.

The water offered, soon enough gone.
And though the west one was defeated,
it smiles in gratitude, almost sweetly.
But deep inside, the fire burns
the lessons learned are lost
as winter comes with a hunger born of frost.

Binary beasts, slave to each other.
Two wayward children split from their mother.

You guys really messed up that message-
Do you have the postage? Addresses?

The records & reports
For what you purport?
Are all the passages
Just rewritten, or
Pages overwritten?
Torn out or rearranged?
Perhaps overlooked?

No longer properly understood?

Is the truth lurking out there,
Somewhere?
Buried under heaps of rubble,
Covered by mud & dirt.

Wipe the muck off.

Through the weeds & brush,
Thorn & thrush,
Save the vine & water the bush.

Get looking.

It's more than simply what you typed,
What you spoke over the phone;
It's how you've done it
Down to every detail,
From the face you made
To each little keystroke.
The trends, the habits, & routines
By which you live your life by;
Tagged with geolocation & time.
Nowadays, there's even more devices
Like the phone or speaker or television;
Like satellite, transmitter, receiver.
There's a tag on your ear
By which you're known by-
It's just not what you go by, chattel.

There's talk of rules in a capitol,
Whispers around Moscow
Of how to act clandestinly.

On how to move in the shadows,
Of acting without notice & silently.
On how to avoid & evade,
Of how to deflect & debate.
On how to turn people over,
Of how to churn up info.
On how to survive the living
Of an actor of a foreign agency.

There's talk of rules in a capitol,
Whispers around Washington
Of how to get away with things.

Exotic flair dances in screaming hues,
Sensual stench beguiles with spiced odour.

Welcomed strangers crave tamed adventures,
Staring spiteful, shocked at ordinary extremes.

Mother, limit your daughter – in the name of love.
Father, torpedo your son – in service to the family.
Family, direct the daughters – for the call of their fathers.
Love, sabotage the sons – for the sake of their mothers.

Religion, preaching freedom, chains
its limbs to bones and brainstems.
Shadi, rupee, social media
replace Vishnu, Brahma, Shiva.

Exquisite journeys in a shadowed dream.
What a thrill – At such a bill.

Webs of stories form beliefs,
influencing actions,
creating a concept of me—
until I become myth.

A synthesis of cells,
speaking electric tongues,
a possession of matter
by patterns that think.

Through a brain and a spine
and everything between,
a unity emerges:
scattered fragments
woven whole.

Interactions form bonds,
all the way up, all the way down.
Outside and within:
culture consuming society,
society consuming self.

Self devours body,
body devours mind,
biology consumes chemistry,
chemistry consumes physics,
down to quantum foam.

Time burns so bright
Candles in a red room
Skin on skin in blackness
The flame eats, it destroys the wax
Climbing and clinging to the silk

Time burns so bright

He wears his rags so highly
Day one day two and nightly
Sun rises and his head falls
A dull thump against the floor

Time burns so bright
I roll over and i groan
Morning was way too soon
Night always seems too late
A sharp pain in my skull  reminds me

Time burns way too bright