M Problems

We just wanted a couple more nights
Of fun, but we were robbed blind
And I scrambled in the dark for some
Semblance of a key but it just
kept turning into cocaine.

I wept that I had to clean up again–
broken candy canes, beer cans,
bloody tissues.

I just want to make rent, but cash
Floweth from my familiar vein and
So some people keep pointing to it
Like el dorado in the sunlight.

I don’t really understand it, but it’s
Shiny and it’s making you happy,
But the windows and doors are coated
In heavy powder, thick dust.

I can’t keep cleaning them over
and over just to find the trail blown
again.

I turned out the lights too and thought
I wouldn’t be scared, I’m an adult now,
But sighs seep out of the emptiness
And I am scared as shit.

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Star Babies

All those beautiful pinholes in the ceiling,
tiny pricks of light leaking
into a darkened world.
A thousand light years away
could not keep them from burning
roundness in our vision.
A deity’s million jewels revolving
and reveling in their adornment
on a deep blue mantel–
brighter than eyes spying on
the offspring below,
worlds in tow.

(YOU)NIVERSE

I SEE NOW
WE FEEL YOUR RIPPLES
PULSING THROUGH OUR
FLESH FEELING BODIES
BUT WE DONT KNOW
HARDLY CAN KNOW
BUT ALWAYS TRY TO KNOW

ITS GENESIS

AH SO DO YOU
ONLY FEEL THE WAVES
AFTER THE FACT
LIKE US LIKE
MORTALS FROM DUST
TO DUST?

I CANT TRUST INSTINCT
I CANT TRUST WHAT HAS BEEN
LEARNED
BUT TRUTH
LIES IN BOTH

WAIT

MAYBE YOU NEVER KNEW EITHER
OR
YOU DID NOT KNOW YOU KNEW
LIKE I NEVER KNEW I KNEW
A THOUSAND EPIPHANIES
AFTER LOOKING IN THE
NIGHT SKY
OR YOUR EYES

I ALWAYS ASKED: WHO?
BUT IT WAS ALWAYS IN
YOU YOU YOU
A THOUSAND WORLDS
A THOUSAND YEARS
GRAINS OF SAND COULD NEVER
AMOUNT TO

BUT I BREATHE THEM IN
YOU BREATHE THEM OUT
WE BREATHE WE BREATHE
WE
BE
WE
BE

I SEE

The peace and quiet of the free world

The peace and quiet of the free world,
Bathed in obscurity–faces
Which pass like blank slates
For our own imagination’s sake
Imagine
Your world colored with your own pallet; a world of white noise
Interlaced with
Stark grey lines
Smudged like a  water-stain;
Disruptions in strange purity,
In strained piety,
In sustained propriety of
An upper class dowsed in
An eon’s worth of bleach–
Scrub out the stains, but
It left the soft lines more blurred,
Leaks between pictured life.

The vanity of an ideal world.

Nobody

I think of a million lives

A million lives I could’ve had

Each breath the intake

Of a different universe

An infinity of ways

Of journeys

Of roads

Of bodies

Of anything you could imagine

And what you couldn’t!

Then a moan and a gasp and

Why this one?

Each day I awaken in a new dawn

Of the same old universe

Particles recycling till the end of

Not even time, what isn’t made up?

But I keep gasping to life

In one life that a million

Could have took

And shivers run up every spine

At some point

Couldn’t my hands have too if Tao was any other tao?

Then a turn and a sigh

Why this one.

A Guava in Summertime

In the summertime
I found a guava
split open
on the ground, soft
pink insides spilling
out hot.
Sick sweetness,
opened fruit–squishy and ripe.
Seeds encased in tender,
frail water membranes float
in the warm, flushed fruit flesh.
Rosy and blushing–the candied tissue
would feel slick and stick
like honey on my tongue.

Khimaira & The Mirror

Khimaira

Floundering,
I struggle for consciousness,
grasping
for anything,
anything,
tangible to hold–
I slip
and the whole
of the sopping slope
falls down with me,
ungraspable slime,
the sludge of
half-attempts at
dichotomous chimeras;
experiments in the fusion
of human emotion
and reality–
only water and
dirt remain.
Perhaps, fission is to blame:
the split in the
human brain,
so while I gasp,
I drown in rain.

The Mirror

When will we know the meaning of it?

This paradoxical buoyancy,

At once we are sunk in

The depths

And suddenly gasping on top–and

The mirror we face

Is our ceiling,

But it reveals the sky.