Gods Wearing Your Skin

All credit to Alex Grey – Artist for his work Bicycle Day.

Burn a fire from where the sparks smolder
let it flourish and ignite the keys you hold.

A world awaits your heated breath,
your liquid sunshine to conquer death.

Embolden your soul in the light you cast,
shine so bright we use it as a guide up the mast.

Fly full figured as the waves crash by,
what doesn’t breaks you is more than to be survived.

This journey started at first inhalation,
it doesn’t end until you join the larger machination.

Draw in that fresh and beautiful air,
fill your spirit until it bursts with love and care.

Have courage in what you are,
a god in people clothing if you dare.

The roads here are infinite and varied,
you walk with them split while finding a life to marry.

You’ll never know your power until you seek it out,
find that fountain of strength to draw it up in a shout.

The world needs your vision and your story,
share it proudly, every second wasted you just tarry.

Dreams fly here,
on the winds of passion,
joy soars here,
in the lakes within your eyes.
Peace roars here,
welcoming you home at last.

We missed you.

Attached to Nothing

All credit for image goes to Rhymesketcher42 @ DeviantArt.

Sweet one with your love so pure,
child stumbling in shadowed fear,
never knowing the right words to speak,
grasping for someone to assure.

You’re seen there in the dark,
space where monsters thrive and hunt.
Nightmares become reality,
you sketch dreams of life with chalk.

No one knows until they know,
though it seems so clear after the fact.
Hard to swallow when nature calls on you to trust,
those larger ones that act yet reap nothing that they sow.

Those distant memories are not such dust,
history and answers with eyes turned in,
never thought I’d see you again,
it was time for the work and at last it was a must.

Let me hold you under glowing stars,
as we watch them dance to the music of infinity,
let me hold you in their friendly glow,
we will sing songs and clean the pain that mars.

You’ve been lost to the ocean of time between,
found at last with a message of hope.
Forgiveness for something you never intended,
it wasn’t your fault, the directors flawed the scene.

Welcome home sweet one with your love so pure,
I’ll wipe your tears and shed my own,
its been forever since you knew where to find a home.
We have a family, and ourselves, this is no lure.


Thank you for keeping alive a spark,
you have it now, a life to live, and a truth to build.
Thank you for finding your way back to me,
lets attach to ourselves,
get ready to do this right and begin from where we start.

Pandemic Inside/Pandemic Outside

Cantankerous, walloping headache from hell,
comes driven on words sweeping born from the fell.
If now is the darkness that blocks out the curs,
then drive, devil, drive to blot our their slurs.
With skull thrashing and blood pumping so loud,
it’s hard to think with the internal noise like a crowd-
mocking, bantering, shuttling words,
as feet shuffle and wisdom flies off with the birds.
Never knowing from whence it was born,
scratching echoes from those blissful days we all yearn.
Pandering blasphemous gasps for sweet air come at last,
now that the sound stops and you care for what has come,
gone, and now passed.

Violence in the Daytime

All credit to UCA News for the image.

Interpersonal dynamics with a radon bomb baby. Burning it straight down to the ground, scream at me like this whole one sided diatribe has become nothing but a song. I hate that our hands touched with venom grasped tight in fists. Cruelty measured in blood ,bruises and spit. Sex without the pleasure and no one ever comes. Where are the guidelines for this shit? I’m no masterpiece and my words sometimes seek wound instead of ears. Verbal lacerations that excite the darkness in both of us until the monster’s out and there’s no going back. Channel that stunner of a mother fucker, find ourselves in prisons far more concrete than the inside of our skulls and with far less forgiving guards. Wasting away, lost to hope and life forever…why? What was gained? I don’t ever dare to ask the other question…what was lost?

Extinguished Rhymes for a Dark Nursery

Smile.

Tremble, baby, tremble,
come gnattering at my door,
the last I heard the story told
I found myself the whore.
Through dancing devils and despair,
where rainclouds covered black,
we’ll smoke these cigarettes this eve
talk only of the facts.
While vapor mists exfoliate,
come wrapping round my lungs,
tell me, oh, my dearest one,
from where do nightmares come?
In that lingering silence,
where faces seek to fade,
electric will the tension sit,
my question on display.
Clever feelings will run loose
till they gather heads of steam,
together waiting for the rush to burst
rip loose like Satan’s scream.
Forever tick the seconds,
into idly running dust,
I know not why the torment,
but darling, dearest, I just must.
Sincerity is cleanliness,
stops putrid stains from spread,
but Botticelli had more words
from his canvases so dead.
Stoke the embers of your heart,
go on, let the pyre burn,
never is a long time from now
and it currently is your turn.

Spinning Stories

Hearts, and the trips beyond.

If I could spin the story right,
I’d make it full of colors-
every one imaginable,
and a few no one had ever seen.

If I could spin the story right,
there would be less insanity,
more quiet moments
where the peace seeped in.

If I could spin the story right,
the damage would be less severe,
memories would still be intact
with a heavy disposition to cheer.

If I could spin the story right,
there would be unfaltering love
with the mettle of each character
unbreakable and durable as steel.

If I could spin the story right,
there would be more smiles,
less wincing at the world,
joy would be realized more often.

If I could spin the story right,
we wouldn’t be here today.
The journey that walked this trail
home to you, was longer than long,
fraught with pain beyond compare,
a longing for something more.

The story was spun just right,
for here we stand.

Learning

To show a visual representation of the learning process and what it feels like.
Thought cloud, dizzy to be acquiring so much no knowledge at times.

Play often with the boundaries inside you head
before they harden into labyrinthine walls.
Doubt the truth of what you know dear one,
for nothing is ever so simple as it may seem.
When the philosopher writes such common tongue
as “I think therefore I am,” dig deeper into
understanding what is meant. Uncoil the beauty
of knowledge shared and questions expanded.
That uncomfortable pressure inside your brain
is nothing more than the price of admission
to a world of creative and well intended information,
each and every bit, a treasure in its own way.

Mistakes

To leave through an open door or stay caged inside the beast.

Quiver in the tallow as salt begins to pour,
the taste of it is far from clean
and you yourself don’t look so pure.

The muck and monstrous improprieties
have left flavored scents about,
nothing satisfies the lust and varieties so much as going without

In this endless ocean of wanton disregard,
it’s always easier to give in,
then fight as needed and so awfully hard.

Eventually it all catches up
and time will slip from past to present,
you will find your just deserts as it plucks away at your presence.

Never is a long-term thing,
an entity like infinity,
but cast your hopes on it to happen
and likely you’ll find a hoarse voice with which to sing.

Make It

“Which way?”

Hallowed evening
moonlit sky
lost direction
asking why
mindless choices
numbing thoughts
careless actions
hurtful shots
taking aim
bitter words
lifeless eyes
broken heard
all consuming
voided – gone
checks cashed
runaway mom
take back
decisions made
better life
absent shade
too late
change past
future hopes
dreams last
action counts
words fly
desperate times
for you and I.

“Lovely Psychosis” – directions for survival as a poem.

Boy, psychosis was one hell of a drug - courtesy of The Plaid Zebra.
All credit to The Plaid Zebra for this image.

Once there was optimism to see silver laced clouds
till the world shook on its axis and decidedly bowed.
Psychosis (they say) is to go quite insane,
lose touch with reality, but they never mention the pain.
When all that is true breaks at the seams,
life becomes survival, desperation and screams.
Mistrusting your judgement since all you see is false,
no more gut feelings to rely on, you’ve got to just halt.
Buried beneath the weight of taunting monsters and more,
the theories roll, there is no staunching it despite how you implore.
Eventually, the doctor will finally take note,
through terror laced tears you sought out help and hope.
The medicine works! That’s great, saves the day,
the 50lb weight gain, well at least you’re not in a grave.
Time will return that the world is no longer asunder,
blessed peace will come back, beautiful and quiet as thunder.
There isn’t much that the mind cannot do,
it a remarkable system when it runs smooth.
So if you find yourself in that darkest of nights,
keep hold of your love and never stop searching for light.
Psychosis is agony, there’s no hiding it,
vulnerability is the solution though surrendering seems amiss.
Give trust to those that care about you,
seeing through their eyes might keep you from the thorazine zoo.
Recognize, none of us perfection incarnate,
schizo or not we all have a life to live well and stories to make.