Worry Wart
The phone call didn’t pick up.
The letter was returned.
The meeting ran late.
The taxi took the wrong turn.
The clouds grew dark,
the winds picked up.
Rain began to fall hard —
the power was suddenly cut.
The dog barked in the middle of the night.
The house made some unusual sounds.
I can feel someone watching me,
yet no one was around.
The gas in the tank ran low,
and this road is unfamiliar.
I don’t remember getting that bruise
I now see in the mirror.
My hands are shaking.
Why won’t you answer?
My stomach begins to tighten —
maybe it’s the Cancer?
My mouth has gone dry,
my vision has begun to blur.
This anxiety is overwhelming,
I don’t think I can endure.
•
I’m just a figment of a fragment or a pigment,
looking to see if there’s somebody else.
Being pulled by a magnet or a dragnet or — forget it,
maybe there really isn’t any type of help.
•
Look at all I’ve done,
some of it was kind of fun,
but now the song is sung;
drop me, then chop me, then prop me back up.
•
I am swimming through all I see,
moving my fins and singing my scales,
remembering the mantra: everything flows.
Surfing upon the waves of goodbyes and hellos.
•
Instinct
Butterfly emerging
from its cocoon,
not knowing, but trusting
the purpose of its wings.
Discovery not needed.
•
Death’s door is wide open
banging against the Winds of Fate.
No matter how far ahead we get,
sooner or later we’ll all be late.
•
The Artist
The artist fears nothing.
Nothing to do.
Nothing to create.
Nothing to inspire.
Nothing to relate.
They fear not being left behind
or being too far ahead.
They fear not the endless silence
nor the end of all to be said.
The artists fears nothing, nothing at all.
•
Hey! Hey you angel,
Messenger of God!
I have a message for you to deliver:
this involuntary exile,
this sort of forced vacation,
is not what I had in mind.
•
Cosmic Gardens
The supernovas bloom in the endless Cosmic Gardens
as I work, tilling vast starfields,
seeding planets and moons with life and art,
reaping galactic yields.
Sowing the knowledge and wisdom of the mind,
weeding out the vines of time.
Raining down the celestial waters of the Heavens,
nurturing your eternal shrine.
•
Dedicated words,
‘VENGEANCE‘ has no place
with him or her,
always finding comfort in the world.
Crying joyous tears.
The journey’s primed —
anyone volunteer?
Let’s find the wisdom we all need to hear.
The lonely find homes
and the will to go on.
They’re all prodigal sons,
love them completely.
•
The One with Whales
The nights are long as I listen for your symphony,
the angelic orchestra of your voice sung to me,
but I cannot find it anymore, my dear,
a gust of wind has blown all the sheet music away, I fear.
I’m afraid that I can never find my way back to you, and in this I will be the same,
yet I believe that if I focus and search for your voice,
I’ll be able to bring myself back to you, that is my path, that is my choice.
But I cannot seem to be able to think straight,
my attention spans the galaxy,
confusing my soul with the Universe and all that the eye cannot see.
Thoughts swirling, spiraling through the arms of the Milky Way
as they try to catch me, to stop me from slipping from day to night to day.
So on I trek, always traveling light,
and like traveling light, I spread in every direction through every conceivable sight.
The oceans of the cosmos lap waves of goodbyes,
contracting, then releasing, the breath of the Universe explained with a sigh.
All say “Ah,” relieving as we breathe.
All “Ah” when we find that which we need.
What we need is to not fear playing the fool,
but to accept the laughing God we all are, who swims in the infinitely starry pool.
We are the prankster God, telling ourselves to “Get lost!”
Playing hide-and-seek, show-and-tell, and who’s-the-boss?
Keeping my head in the clouds as my feet walk upon the sky,
like the endless roots of Yggdrasil, whose trunk echoes in an OM-inous cry.
A cry from the Sea’s son, always singing the same tune,
just as the seasons change with the waxing and waning of the moon.
The Sea’s son is singing about how we’re all children of the sea,
LA, SO, FA, ME, RE, DO, SI —
Sea, sí, see? Yes — musical scales!
We are all born from the sea singing and therefore we are born with scales.
Singing the blues of the seas
and the sorrows of the trees,
but we are like the fish swimming who tries to grab hold of its own tail,
spinning and spinning, trying not to fall, crying out its wail,
echoed by the singing of the ancient whales who know that the fish will not fall down,
for they are neither in the sky nor above ground.
The wise whales know that they swim through the oceans and have not forgotten
that the Earth itself swims through the celestial ocean of Heaven.
•
Armageddon was only yesterday.
Today is just an inconvenience.
I could rush on back to the start,
but to do so wouldn’t make much sense.
To the arms for which we bare,
loaded unto out able shoulders,
sore and broken in our lives,
this barracks of broken toy soldiers.
Our eyes cry out with tears,
collecting in pools of reflections,
drowning many hopes and feeding into fears,
all praying for some kind of revelation.
Here we are,
trapped within the ribcages of incarcerations.
Pounding upon the anvils of our hearts,
pumping and bleeding for a resurrection.
Many hold the scars
left by the hands of the clock,
causing more pain than any knife;
any drug, any person, or any glock.
•
You cannot ignore the shadows
if you wish to live in the light.
•
Love, they say, isn’t fair,
though you can find it everywhere,
in the sunshine or the rain.
A gentle emotion,
ebbs and flows like the ocean,
causing tears of joy or pain.
Sing songs in the air,
let them flow without a care,
sing them all through the day.
Holding on to what you have,
taking all that you can grab,
bringing along everything on your way.
Like teardrops on a wild fire
there’s nothing to stop this play.
Teardrops of desire
falling away.
•
First Impressions
The sound of your laugh,
the image of your voice,
the flow of your hair,
the angle of your poise.
The way your hands sway,
the way your eyes twinkle,
the way your feet step so soft,
the way your smile ends in a dimple.
From the tips of your hair
to the very soles of your feet,
my first impression of you
has always been complete.
•
Water
I am water,
I ebb and I flow.
I am part of all things
that I know that I know that I know.
I create
and I destroy.
I retrieve
and I deploy.
I can change course around any obstacle
and adapt to whatever lies ahead
or break on through to the other side,
my current flowing straight on instead.
I am water
and am essential to life,
but too little or too much
can lead to great strife.
I am a way to guide you home
or a way to keep you lost.
I am water —
respect me at all costs.
I can be the thing you search for
from day start to day end
or be the rain that falls
and wish to never see again.
O – water, water everywhere,
who has a drop to spare?
Water on the ground,
water in the air.
•
Passing Judgment
You’re such an inspiration
for the way I will never be.
I can find so many reasons
why your God is not better than me.
Fuck your law, your stand, your hammer!
You’ll be finished.
Hate all you want with your JUSTICE!
You’re the one who should be praying
cause you’re gonna lose in the long run.
It’s not like I killed anyone.
It’s not like I was born perfect to begin with.
Talk to Jesus Christ — even He had to die;
ask God why He couldn’t make it right —
just
like
you.
You’re such an example
of all the things I never claimed to be.
I’d love to hear your confessions
at the end of eternity.
Pray to your savior or whatever,
you’re just going Judas’ way,
you’re the only one who can do this to you —
don’t you dare to question why!
I’m sure you indirectly killed someone,
I’m sure your words helped to ruin so many lives!
Pray all you want
we all get what we deserve when we die,
I’d do it all for you,
but I’m just not like you.
I will never be like you.
•
Please excuse me for the way I am,
darkness never radiates much from me,
but will I
outlive the lie
and let the shadow lift and set me free?
These days and nights pass right on by
while angels and demons wage war inside.
Who am I
in your eyes,
as I take on this unknown ride.
On roaming stars,
my mind as fuel to burn,
blackness and lightness
all take their turn.
On roaming stars,
on which I will return,
haunting and living
through your concern.
•
She had nothing but time in her hands,
love between her fingers,
and emeralds for nails.
Cold stones held against my face,
smooth to the touch
of all the details.
•
The sun-faded sights
to starless nights
and moonlit flights,
those prisons of Id
contain valuable insight
to the nature of the heart,
to the nature of the mind,
to the nature of the soul,
all in a union of self,
though not always with a purpose or goal.
Led by the Voice,
vision is set upon quarreling
of the Controller and the Shade,
while the Abandoneer and the Misleader
wander about, not ever finding anything.
The Cat and the Lion
chase one another through the fields,
as the Illusion blinds all vision again.
The Succubus simply waits.
How I wish they would leave me be.
•
Lunatic
I saw the moon tonight
and I plucked it out of the sky, alright.
Just a sliver f white,
like a sharpened crack in the night.
You came back around
with no silver chains.
It’s been so long,
yet you’ve barely changed,
though I know just where I’d
like to hang from.
Curled up and warm inside,
I watched you swinging left to right.
You charmed to my heart,
but I must kiss your smile good night.
I don’t know
from where you came,
all I know
is that you keep me sane,
and I know just where I’d
like to hang you from.
•
Reflections: 01.17.2017
I feel sick.
I don’t know if I can take it.
Here we sit, crying to stand as one,
as we form our gangs, groups, and brotherhoods,
thinking they’ve won.
I feel lost.
Will my recovery be worth the cost?
“You’re like no kind of Mexican I’ve ever seen,” you say.
That’s because I’m not Mexican, essay.
It’s cold here
and I am afraid.
I’m brave enough to admit that
I’m downright terrified.
I feel like a demon
whose whole life has been surrounded by angels,
betraying their trust once again,
but they still return out of love.
Someday I will be able to do the same,
one I figure out how.
•
I
don’t know why
I never told you.
I
don’t know why
I never tried.
When
I bury
these sings again,
all
of my torments
come to life.
But
it’s
far
from
over.
I
don’t know why
I never asked you.
And I
don’t know why
I couldn’t care.
When
we share
these bitter things again
all
of my reasons
have to die.
And
now
I’m
over.
•
The Best of the Worst in All Things
The problem with being a pessimist,
a realist, someone who always sees
the worst possible outcome, is that they
are often proven right, and just as of-
ten they do not like to be, and yet the
moment they attempt to pursue hope, un-
guarded with positive possibili-
ty, reaching for the best in all things, it
comes crashing down in the most dramatic
fashion, proving the unneeded belief
once more — and yet we remain full of hope
and seek out the light through all the tears, an-
guish, and pain.
•
Our Bar Nation
Confusion: why do bad things happen to good people, I don’t know. I’m tired of asking God, with a bow. Taking tests, like some kind of summertime activity, blind complicity where we’re sitting.
You! All over the world, don’t you see the murder of our fathers? Somewhere between the paid-off silence of Lady Justice, evil sleeps. Somewhere, the truth is imprisoned in a keep. Court-ordered disorder.
More funds for their plantations; free labor, eyes blank like deer in the headlights of a truck. Turning links into chains, a noon-time activity, can you tell me what this means to me?
•
Reflections: 01.13.2017
“Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”
“Lead us not into temptation.” I will remember that well and you would do well to do so too. “Our” Father leads us and delivers us, so when something bad happens, you know who’s to blame, you know who let it happen, and you know who did absolutely nothing to prevent it.
“Lead us not into temptation…” I have some issues with that leadership as I sit here staring at these cold, unforgiving bars.
•
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