Archive | May 2021

On Preparing To Diet

Getting Ready For Vital Work

We are that which we eat. Someone say it ain’t so.
What goes into my bloodstream becomes part of me.
If I quack like a pig and break wind like a cow
I need not fail to wonder since they are my chow.
My hot wings have no feathers so how can I flee
The zoo which is my body? And do my cells know?

I am that which I think. I cannot deny that.
Every thought that I’m thinking connects to others
Of the same kind. Together they color my mood.
So it is best that I consume good mental food
So my life may be livable as it occurs.
Consciously I must keep my mood from falling flat.

Many decades of pent up negativity
Is the result of carelessness. What I take in
To my body and mind must be wholesome and free
Of all negative karma. What goes into me
Must be free of what kills me or else it is sin
That is rough on the soul when compounded daily.

Before starting a diet it’s best to prepare
Through an intensive purging of body and mind.
One can bypass the junk food the same as bad thought.
Though it takes lots of effort I will grow a lot
In the ways of the spirit as life is designed.
Dieting is the way we become more aware.

The Dream Of Life

...Yet It Seems Almost Real

Awaken from illusion? Which one would that be?
Just as black implies white, self implies the other.
Death brings meaning to life. This is fundamental.
Not a stranger am I in this place where I dwell.
Believing my existence was meant to occur,
Nothing short of a death wish can awaken me.

People are going crazy as far as I see
Or perhaps it’s been ongoing since time began.
We were all meant to be here. If this isn’t true
Then we might as well give up. The grand party zoo
Is far off the deep end and akin to the klan.
Colors true are most vibrant when one is dream free.

Nine eleven was done by the Arabs, so we
Came together as one nation, yet what happened
On the sixth of the first month is nothing to fear.
Perpetrated by white men, it’s perfectly clear
That one chunk of the nation cannot comprehend
What it means to be human most regrettably.

If I dreamed many lifetimes, each of many years,
And I could author all of them as I desire,
I would want for surprise after so many nights.
I would ask for a gamble so sometimes life bites.
God comes into each person that growth may transpire.
If that presence is ignored I nurture my fears.

There Is No Insecurity

Well Worth Repetition

If God so clothed the ladybugs why should I fear
That I might become needy in ways that demean
Self-respect and life purpose? My faith tank is low.
Since Jesus is the boss’s son, shouldn’t I know
He’s also my big brother? Does that sound obscene?
Only that which is positive do I adhere.

He would not have been put to death in India,
Where the people believe we’re all God in disguise.
They would just have accepted him as a wise one.
But the task put upon him would not have been done
Were he not among wilder folk and much less wise
And with perverse attachments to harsh Roman law.

Today knowledge is plentiful as it has been
Throughout all human history. Teachings abound
For the self’s true awakening. Why do I wait?
Is it fear that my ego will not feel so great
Since it’s only a concept and nothing profound?
The chance to think of acting will come once again.

Transformation of myself into unattached
Selflessness is impossible. That is because
I have selfish reasons for wanting to do so.
In the death of the fake self the true one will grow
In accordance with all the spiritual laws.
In a nest of security my soul is hatched.

Negative Thought Removal

Remedy For The Common Mood

Negative thoughts are just thoughts. Don’t identify
Them as good ones and bad ones. They all are the same
In that I’m either conscious of them or I’m not.
It is in the subconscious where some become fraught
In the ways they affect me. Yet I cannot blame
Them for my bad behavior, though hard I may try.

Try not to think of monkeys for just a brief while.
The mere thought makes the mind but a monkey machine
Generating more monkeys than ever wanted.
The mind does amplify whatever it is fed.
So, to think not a negative thought is obscene
Because I cannot do it. It isn’t my style.

Understanding that my thoughts are not part of me
Is the key to becoming more fully aware
That my unconscious thinking can get out of hand.
It seduces me to places I hadn’t planned.
If I try to not think them I welcome despair.
This is quite a predicament as I can see.

So, what is the solution? Surely there must be
One that is most appropriate and effective.
Since the mind can’t digest well, it needs to be fed
Positive support by me. Today I’m not dead.
That’s of utmost importance. My will is to live.
Knowing not when life will end is just fine with me.

What Shall I Do?

Suspenseful Purpose

The Suspension of Matter in relative space
Is the quaint cosmic setting in which all exists.
Microphysics and those of unspeakable size
Bend the best minds of science. Must I realize
That all that I’m a part of not only consists
Of all that I can sense in my humblest embrace?

I know not what to do and need guidance always.
Thankfully it’s available to everyone.
Love the earth, sun, and animals. Despise riches.
Give alms to everyone who asks. Treat that which is
With respect and tread gently. Do have lots of fun.
To the dense and the loony, give them their just praise.

All your income and labor, devote to others.
Do hate tyrants and argue not concerning God.
Have patience and indulgence with other people.
Take your hat off to nothing, and don’t take the bull.
Go freely with the powerful, stupid, and odd…
And the mothers of families as life occurs.

Re-Examine all you’ve been taught at any school…
Or the church or from any book. That which insults
Your own soul, do dismiss it. Your flesh can’t but be
Poetry in its full richness of fluency.
Silent lines of the lips and face, living exalts.
The whole body becomes then a most gracious tool.

Joyful Always?

The Magnificent Spirit

The left nut I would give and the gold kitchen sink
To find joy in the moment that lasts all day long.
I hear say there are those who are Joyful Always.
Fettered folk who fall needy should offer them praise.
I shall not show my jealousy. That would be wrong.
Sneaking up on some joy I at all doth bethink.

I have felt awfully happy even while in pain.
The problem is sustaining it more than a while.
Wellbeing means exuberance. Life energy
Flows without interference thus most easily.
How to get there and stay there could fit my profile
If I got rid of thinking that drives me insane.

Depression means life energy has reached a low
Through the cycles recursive of tapes that are played
From the cage of the closed mind. The only way out
Is to know my mortality without a doubt.
In this way I’m reminded of my true crusade.
Pettiness has no path on the way I should go.

 I create what I’m doing in every detail.
Karma means it’s my action. The questions for me
Are: How joyful am I? And how much do I give
Out to others? This is a most wise way to live
For this brief earthly sojourn. I can choose to be
Cognizant of my time here. That way I can’t fail.

Consciousness Inside Out

All The Cosmos Within

I am doing this world as, in turn, it does me.
Consciousness therefore flows between both easily
If I can but remember this always is true
Even though I’m brought up with a different view –
One whose mental distortions make it hard to see
That I am everything that the cosmos must be.

Every outside there is has as well an inside.
They are different yet they go with each other.
There’s a secret between them: To seek out new ways
To discover their sameness so that both will raise
Ever higher their consciousness and empower
Each the other with respect and mutual pride.

Consciousness is of two types. One is the spotlight
That stays focused on one thing at one time only.
The other is the floodlight. It is more aware
Of the general picture, and it will take care
Of what’s in the background automatically
In support of the spotlight who wants to shine bright.

My behavior and how I feel differs not from
That of this world in total. It and I are one
And the same. This is true for all inside out pairs.
That of me which is floodlight is the one who cares
About all that exists and can do harm to none.
Infinitely profound is the beat of my drum.

One Simple Trait

Focused Intent

How do birds of prey find exactly what they want
As they scan countless acres of raw wilderness?
Nature gives them keen senses. Their infrared sight
Helps them track mammal urine in pitch black of night.
Extreme intent and focus they also possess.
Any creature below them they’re willing to daunt.

Andrew Carnegie, after he made great success,
Caught the ire of the government. They thought that he
Was engaged in illegal things. He proved them wrong.
When they asked him why his businesses were so strong…
“I can keep myself focused,” he said truthfully,
“On one thing for five minutes. I won’t go for less.”

School systems value information as ideal,
And too much floods the mind with what it does not own.
When attached to memory, I identify
With the things I remember and barely get by.
Knowledge is the true quest. Information alone
Is useless because it’s not the same as what’s real.

What too much information can do to the mind
Is severe Attention Deficiency Syndrome.
One loses the ability to take things in

Through the senses and consciousness. It’s such a sin.
To know that I know not much gets me close to home
In this world of deep data that traps humankind.

Who Was Jim Crow?

Darkest Roots Of The History

Jim Crow wasn’t a real person but a stage act
Performed by Thomas Dartmouth Rice, a white actor.
The sole act he performed was called Jumping Jim Crow.
Dressed in rags and with blackface, on stage he would go
To depict lives of black folks as stupid and poor.
He gained much benefit from the twisting of fact.

This form of entertainment became popular.
He himself was a Yankee, yet traveled afar
Spreading his brand of poison all over the land
To poor downtrodden hardworking whites who could stand
Making fun of a scapegoat, though feathers and tar
Would be much preferable and hugely bizarre.

In those times laws were strictly enforced to keep blacks
From comingling with whites in any kind of way.
Ruthless rules of repression were called Jim Crow laws.
…Seems the dude’s act was fruitful in hindsight because
Uncle Sam gave it substance, so people could say
That it’s righteous for whites to administer tax.

Systemic Segregation exists to this day.
Complete eradication is futile at best.
Its roots aren’t all that southern. They grow through the soil
Of the earth all are made of. Unending turmoil
Is the plight of humanity as it’s expressed
Through our hateful behaviors. Are we our own prey?

I Don’t Have A Girlfriend, Mommy

Honest!

You may interrogate me, and that would be fine.
I’m a young man of temperance and keen insight.
Yes, I did have a good time at nursery school.
I’m a big fan there. Everyone thinks that I’m cool.
…No, the girls don’t excite me. I think they’re alright
But I’m not there for romance, by nature’s design.

We all like to play ghost busters. That’s lots of fun.
Make believe is the medium I manage well.
I become the aggressor in positive ways
Showing bad guys in all worlds that crime never pays.
Bless your heart, mommy. I’ve no sad story to tell
 Nor a secret to keep from you or anyone.

Dinosaurs is another game we played today.
I like being the T-Rex. Our styles are the same –
Both ferocious and timid but smarter than all.
And the bigger they are, the less chance that they’ll fall.
Coyness is below me. I harbor no shame.
Truthfulness is a virtue not just for display.

I do not have a girlfriend, but friends who are girls
Are somewhat of some interest. That’s about it.
You’re the one I come home to and who I most love.
We both planned our acquaintance in heaven above
Where we’ve made many others to which we commit.
As your womb was my oyster, I’m one of your pearls.

Appreciation

Life And Death Are Both Blessings

There’s so much that I live for. It’s easy to say.
Often times I may say it while not feeling whole.
It is by social habit I wear the costume
Of the life-loving specimen who hides much gloom.
Time I have on this earth is for growth of my soul.
Should death come within hours, I’ll have much time to pray.

All my prospects and travels and brief love affairs
I do cherish more strongly when faced with the threat
That within a small march of days all will be gone.
How would I spend that time? Will the song of the swan
Be discordant to deaf ears? Will there be regret?
Or will I in bliss wait for my moving upstairs?

The dear deer in the headlights on one pitch black night
Is frozen in astonishment and total shock
That life may end abruptly. If the driver yields
Then the creature finds newness in grazing its fields.
Reveille from the universe is a hard knock
To quotidian consciousness, but that’s alright.

If the cataclysm doesn’t happen as planned
I won’t miss all the good things I normally do,
And with consciousness freshened with each living breath,
It is truly a blessing to come close to death –
Close enough to be shaken to a brighter view.
I appreciate living a life that is grand.

What Are Others Thinking Of Me?

A World of Delightful, Imaginative Wonder

Though it matters not at all still I may wonder
What it is people think of me. So, I’m human
And affected by super moons and cosmic waves
And by all the insane things that my body craves.
I’m ok with a friendship and don’t need a plan
To affect my appearance so life can occur.

Temperance is the patience and moderation
Necessary for maintaining healthy balance
About wanting and needing others in our lives.
In complex social structures, the fittest survives.
The death of an old cycle leads to the next chance
To become more acquainted with laughter and fun.

Offerings may come to me. I have a strong sense
That this life is my oyster and I am its pearl.
What comes in then goes outward for all to behold.
Dreams and wishes of popularity unfold
As I watch ever consciously my path unfurl.
I’m at peace with my loving which is quite intense.

People get rather phony with social profiles
That are perfectly polished as if of the gods.
No one’s life is fantastic nor is it the pits.
With a little help from my friends and my keen wits,
I become others’ best thoughts though they are facades
That are yet therapeutic because they bring smiles.

Story Theater

Storytale Weaving

Once upon a time there was a worthy black man –
One who many supported to take on the task
Of preparing this young nation for a new age.
We The People had spoken. This has caused much rage
Among those white supremacists proud to unmask
Their grotesque ugliness because they’re better than…

Masterminds were the Russians who planned an attack
To the heart of our functioning as a free land
Where hatred is allowed but not criminal acts.
It’s ok though to find ways to single out blacks
To inflict harm upon them. They must understand
That the law is a needle within a haystack.

So, the nation was hijacked. For four hellish years
Daily we were inundated with wicked lies.
Psychic tension unyielding had become the norm.
Turning on some device to another shit storm
Of outrageous behavior became not so wise
But not knowing leads to aggravation of fears.

The orange one-term crook loser still has much control
Of a grand old fart party and all whites who hate.
My black heart is awakened to uncivil rights
That demand exaltation of all the land’s whites.
It’s not likely to happen. What wrath lies in wait
That will swallow this nation and blacken its soul?

Storytelling is commonplace post the disease
That infected this nation and did it great harm.
Those who lose are sore losers and act like children.
The orange rump is now god among wicked white men.
Can the story have an ending where we disarm
Once again like what happened back in the sixties?

Loving Kindness

A Last Glimmer Of Hope

Is there one supreme consciousness who knows all things
And lives throughout eternity in a fine place
Among worshiping angels and folks who were good
While engaging their brief duty of humanhood
On one odd speck of stardust deficient of grace?
That sounds God awful human as e’er the dick swings.

Consciousness is at issue. What atheists know
Or don’t know is precisely defined with logic
That would rival most Vulcans. Their minds are focused
On the tangible evidence. Science they trust
Over mere intuition, thinking it’s a trick
To distort their reality and cause them woe.

That’s why faith is a mystery. Others include
Life and death and the changing of blood into wine.
No one knows what will happen for sure when we die.
Anything conjured up then is worth a good try
As a viable framework with which to align.
The ego wants its virtuousness to exude.

Cultivation of virtue just makes common sense,
But it’s hard to attain such and stay there for long
Due to traits that aren’t virtuous, but that’s ok.
Cultivating Presence is the natural way
To disburse Loving Kindness. Not much can go wrong.
Communion with oneself is most proper defense.

Why People Hurt People

Blind Desperation

Civil War is but one thing devolved into two.
When the brain’s hemispheres get along not at all
It is called epilepsy. There’s loss of control
Of the muscular functions. Oneself isn’t whole
When attacks come at random. This is nothing small.
One can’t predict at all when the next one is due.

Trauma is about not being able to feel
All the pain that it causes. The soul is made numb.
Being so cut off from one’s own humanity,
Desperate are behaviors that all others see
As a problem to intricate to overcome.
Every new dawn is swallowed in hopeless ordeal.

Self-destructive behaviors are frustrated by
Self-preservative programming. Clearly at odds,
One must sort through the numbness and draw from the pain
Something that feels like hatred for relative gain.
What society offers completely defrauds
Some of us as truth warriors willing to die.

What has died is the hope for an old way of life
When we were manufacturers with steady jobs.
Drug and alcohol crises and suicide rates
Climbing higher each year is the fate that awaits
Those of us who feel cornered. The menacing mobs
Will not cease their aggression until there’s no strife.

The Power Of Walking Away

Moving On

Boundaries are a precious thing. When they’re ignored
People will take advantage of all that we are.
That’s just Human Behavior. We all are guilty.
Even without our noticing, we completely
Take advantage of others. Some will go too far
Such that damage is too complex to be explored.

How does one regain sovereignty after it’s lost
Through one’s need for approval? It cannot be done
Unless one has direction and purpose in life.
If these two are not present one will suffer strife
At the comfort of others. But what of the one
Whose value can be purchased at such a high cost?

When I feel obligated to those I work for,
Or to family, friends, or others I may know,
Then I tell them that my time is worth less than theirs.
I end up in a sick game of musical chairs
Where I’m always left standing with nothing to show.
Is there some sense in pondering why I’d want more?

Some people are real assholes, and some… just a bit.
I can love them just as much as I do the kind-
Hearted angles among us if firmly I stand
In my fullest integrity. None can demand
Self-destructive behavior of me. I shall find
That by Walking Away, true freedom I permit.

The Hannitary Napkin

Neuter Hygiene

When old men have their periods nothing is worse
Than to be not protected from uncontrolled flow.
The obese orange faced loser while on the golf course
Needs assurance that when it comes out with great force
There will be someone nearby unlike Morning Joe
Who will peddle the bullshit. I think it’s perverse.

Their relationship decades in blossoming mode
Is not one in compliance with anything good.
It’s not by definitions that words have meanings
But in how they are twisted to mean other things.
Multilayered is the fist-fucked fabric understood.
Too much of it seeps through, and to none is it owed.

Long before there was fox news, people just used rags
To absorb heavy leakage periodically.
Nowadays there are assholes who know how to suck
Like the best in the business. This arrogant schmuck
Is the ear-to-rump doctor for his majesty
With accent on the ‘jest’ as in funny freak flags.

Worthwhile and cost effective for neuter hygiene,
This fine Hannity product is just right for those
With weak minds ‘liberated’ to only believe
Those whose craft is in essence to cheat and deceive.
Bigotry is a virtue. Those who dare oppose
Risk the wrath of the fabric that just can’t come clean.

The Biggest Joke Of All

The Illusory Duo

Jokes I play on myself are imaginative.
If it weren’t for my trick self, I’d have none at all.
Some say I should get rid of it, But I cannot,
Because it thinks like I do. I’m all that it’s got.
Mostly it takes the big roles. I’m left with the small.
I ask myself if this is the right way to live.

But, alas, it can’t answer. It thinks everything
Is an intricate puzzle it only can solve.
When it can’t, it’s frustrated, as if it exists
As a viable entity. On it persists
In its ‘it-centric’ world where all things must revolve.
Onto some sense of purpose this person must cling.

So, there’s no getting rid of this subsequent dude
Come about like a tattoo etched over decades
Of abuse of his surface – a time tapestry
Of eternal becoming. The ink runs through me
But shows up not through thick skin. Freely it pervades
And presents as my ego. As such, I am screwed.

I end up doing nothing and leaving it to
That which is ever conscious and omni aware.
I can’t grasp nor rid myself of all I become.
I alone cannot get it. The getting comes from
Consciousness Universal which is everywhere.
There’s no need to get anything but a damned clue.

Enigma Be

Existence Indecipherable

Things get more out of order as time marches on.
Randomness unpredictable is quite the way
That the universe functions. With dark energy
Keeping things from collapsing most violently,
Gravity on the earth plane has but to obey
Forces that are entropic and ever foregone.

How many different ways something can occur
Is its measure of entropy. It is also…
Of all possible combinations energy
Can have both magnitude and direction. To be
In a world such as this one, much one need not know
Lest the mind be molested by its constant whirr.

Verily I say nothing if I mention not
That collisions in deep space make crap loads of light
That is bright and kinetic. It goes everywhere.
Gravity, for that purpose, is something to bear
And transform into purpose for making things right
By the stardust I’m made of. I am nature’s plot.

Every thing has its place, and it’s Out Of Order,
And with randomness left to imagination.
As part of the whole process, I need be aware
That I am such. I’ll do much to take special care
Of my share of enigma, for in the long run,
Everything that happens is as I would prefer.

It Is All Happening Now

Eternal Beingness

Something feels great big gobs of relief in knowing
That the only occurrence is spontaneous.
Things just happen as they should or shouldn’t without
Consciousness being present. And yet there’s no doubt
Things continue to function as many discuss
Ways that they can control them because that’s their thing.

Some things get in the way of my thinking clearly.
Knowing full well that that is an oxymoron,
Still I try to break through the illusion of me.
Thoughts and feelings are much of what I seem to be.
Cloudiness leads to conclusions falsely foregone.
Reset I must my consciousness to better see.

Everything is a “happening.” This is groovy!
Time warps are but ideas, but breathing is real
Just as retinal rods and cones processing light.
Fortunately no one trusts me to get that right.
In respectful observance I touch the ideal.
Knowing there’s no observer I’m there completely.

So, there’s no self to speak of. It’s all happening.
All of now is eternal and is everywhere.
Breathing in and out happens as wind moves the clouds
Whether fate shows its favor to protesting crowds.
Nothing is more important than being aware
That distinction exists not. I am everything.

Swamp Draining Adventures

Entertained By Raw Sewage

That damned cesspool’s been backed up for more than four years
Yet the stench is enticing… as if a preview
Of upcoming attractions. Much stinking assed shit
Is about to blast forth from the source that won’t quit.
Can this weak tribe of monkeys hurl any do do
That will spare them due justice? …Not as it appears.

It’s been snail’s time in coming. Now finally here,
The nectar of rejoicing intoxicates still.
Un-numbed nuts through news networks no more recreate
By consumption of bullshit and mind blowing hate.
The return to some normalcy counts as a thrill
After living for so long in relative fear.

Truth is like molten lava. It cools to a crust
After violent contact with all in its way.
A substrate that is purer and stronger is made –
One in which those upon it are rarely afraid
Of themselves nor their nation. Be not led astray
By assholes who hold office. Deserve they no trust.

Pettiness is perversity yet a pain pill
Post prescribed for perceptions of purgatory.
One hot day for a hanging is all I ask for.
If it drags on a few years, a decade, or more,
So be it because that’s the way it ought to be.
Entertainment forthcoming karma does fulfill.

Do I Really Exist?

Questioning Consciousness

Can I transform myself? Can I make myself sane…
Or more loving or unselfish? Is that my wish?
It would seem necessary to be these fine ways
If I am to be nurtured by other folks’ praise.
When I feel I can’t do it, I’m rather sluggish
In pursuit of direction, so I act in vain.

So much says I can’t do it, but I say I can.
Gravity is an odd consequence of time/space.
This aspect makes it seem alien of nature
But indeed how can that be? Earth can but assure
That itself and I are one. I fully embrace
What this is that I’m part of as one humbled man.

Within time and space equal, all that I can do
Can’t be done because I don’t exist in that way –
An ego-separated personality.
An idea based on a fake feeling of me
Is what passes for presence each and every day.
Putting things right is futile in absence of clue.

Things exist that I can and cannot do. That’s fine.
I would pay due respect, here, knowing I’ve no choice.
All that goes on of itself is all part of me…
Which includes all of this earth most naturally.
It and I are a mutually passive voice
With no message specific. Such Being Is Mine.

Africanized Forked Tongued Maricopa

A Radic alized Species

A day’s lesson in zoology is the news
Made aggressively in the streets of Lalaland.
Easily they’re excited by smells of bullshit.
Give them feces to feed on… My God! They won’t quit!
No one now recognizes that this is all planned
And pumped straight from the anus of whom all accuse.

The remote master chessman knows well in advance
How his pieces will play out his will, then begone.
So intrenched are his tentacles in our affairs
They feel righteously nice to some. Indeed who cares.
We can’t know how we’re fucked with. We’re not more withdrawn
But more prone to be entertained by circumstance.

These people are bananas! They’re stark fucking mad!
I thought I’d been the nutcase forever ‘til now.
Having been one, I know one, but don’t know them all…
And with these breeding maggots, there’d be no close call.
On I’ll go in damned comfort if I can allow
These assholes to amuse me. That can’t make me sad.

Checking for Asian DNANot for Bamboo –
Is the path of the brain ninja, but I digress…
Why not check for fried rice with traces of soy sauce
Through the most telltale patterns of slant Lissajous
Micro-minded for merit? You folk are a mess!
Next time your ilk go trippin’, I’ll know what to do.

The Zoo That Needs Keeping

Dark Child's Defeat

Doctor’s Ooze of the dark mind germane to the rule
Of the arid republic need be maintained still.
Hideously the hatred – the drumbeat of heart –
Beats nonsense as if nature. Full-on can it smart
Body Politic already bloodstained by will?
It is known and how well it performs as a fuel.

Continue to continue contingent to clue
Contrary by the nature that hangs everyone
Noose-necked-naked-assed nasty nowhere near the goal.
If each cell has a function, each plays its own role.
Rigorously reviled for past deeds freely done,
Insufficient momentum is not a breakthrough.

The Political Body split down the middle
More than ever, the nonsense knows of its near end,
Never ending the downturn each cycle reveals.
Fortunate is the body who better it feels
After deep self-assessment. Each does comprehend
How one makes one’s own drama a perfect riddle.

Going on like this has its own rigor with ways
To cause all who are human to stop and reflect
On what kind of a test we are willing to take.
Do we fail in the end or become more awake
To surviving while maintaining civil respect?
Who alone can have answers to end the malaise?

What To Do While In Spirit…

Eternitity of Beingness

Not near death nor near living, for what do I wait?
…No sense of being conscious of self nor no one
Since the mere act of being is made of its own
Only substance of time flow ever to be known
As the thought come before next becomes the end run
Of this life come to be passed much due to dead weight?

This thought form of a body exists very real.
As an everyday model old, fine does it run.
Remembers it insanely well how to behave,
Or how to send its master to its early grave.
Incomplete thought entrapment can never be done.
Absolute nonexistence has no thought appeal.

From the viewpoint exalted far out and away
All of life is presented. Complain does the thought
Not of style nor of format nor technique surreal,
But for just being yanked from the world with such zeal.
Interruption? To think that, who then can’t be caught
In the fool’s web of arrogance for The Long Day?

Practicing hospice routine partakes pleasure’s peace.
Transition through reviewing as all it takes place
Has never been attended by one with a name
That has stuck damned fast to it butt gut wrenching shame.
My allowance here shows me the self I must face
For another while longer undoing my fleece.

Let Go And Relax

It'll all be over soon.

Off a cliff I am falling. What else can I do?
My death is clearly eminent. Fear have I none
For the probable outcome, so I’ll just relax.
If I hold on to something it will only tax
More than ever an emergent situation.
It will not change what happens, for all that I knew.

There are many debris that are falling along.
In the past, I had clutched them. Brief is our time here.
Things and I are important, but to let them go
Finds relief in life’s pressures and consummate woe.
Alibis are abundant to mitigate fear
That the things in my life are not where they belong.

I have responsibilities. People depend
Upon me for their purpose, and I upon theirs.
Things put in proper perspective cannot be wrong.
Insecure about living, how can I be strong?
By surviving compulsively, all my affairs
Are of careful avoidance of what must transcend.

Off the edge we are all thrown. Nativity gives
Each of us a good push into gravity space.
It’s above and below us, and there’s little time
For my messing with words trying to make them rhyme,
But it’s kind of a fetish. All that I embrace
On the way to the ending is not that which lives.