End of Time

 

The thought, the dream, of resurrecting a time

A person that exists at the same time

Spiraling through space, the fabric of events

Words, deeds, amends… is it too late?

Has life lost its beat, what of making it up?

Again and again, until it reawakens

SMEG

Letter from home

scratched on tap

a rationed sandy flat

fashioned of stolen

tax and votes.

Home sick, regretting

what I thought I meant

confused by self

that caused this mess;

fleecing pain

on cutting flesh.

Children of the night

thrown from a building top

pondering conspiracy

while body's drop.

Warm blood lost

freed from this nightmare

wholesale cost

thousand yard stare.

All the wonders

strangles lives

torn asunder

by another's fare.

Tarry 'til I Come

This is a rough draft
of my lonely life.
All make believe
no pressure or strife.

I think clear I think
in my head of speaking thoughts
and weirdness leaking.

And even from the heart, revealing its scent

not fluent, plagued with self reference,
the love has an accent
I recompense.

Listen to you speak; unattached to your eyes
unabashed, we leave our exchange,
feeling empty and harried.

All what's left is a zero sum
all is lost, time wasted
opportunity cost
and I tarry 'til you come.

God almighty

Don't take the God from me
Corrupt my I-am-ness
Distorting my inner glee

Uptight denials
Paint your face
Your lost footing

Your owned disgrace
Free me to our father
Running in place

We'll meet
After your acted-out foder
Inner wounds laugh and weep

For release
My soul's oneness
An airtight keep

New Age Fanatic

What's the guilt I feel
Falling to sleep
When you have lept in
With another creep?

The quality of release
Has taken on new surrender
While you drift off weeping
A great pretender

I'm a new age fanatic
Talking to your dead
Clearing your aura
With star-dust static

Sticky Fingers

What does it take
To leave a tree alone?
Abolish money
And raze your home

Developers play
At helping humanity
Clear cutting woods
Destroying harmony

Realtors wet dreams
Representing the foly
Midwife to horror
Faking what it seems

The Little Artist

The blocked artist
Sad uptight creature
Cowering in filth
Measly mind's picture

Jolts of jealousy
Words drip from a catheter
Living in a cardboard box
No clue what's out there

Beyond the beyond
The universe expanding
As a last resort
You tap the unending