Wildly forming into a serial projection is what no one perceived. So cause it. Make it and bake it. Coming into a new way of sprouting like lilies intertwined. Crash like a lightning strip rushing into a long lost dream, awakening yet still dreaming. Tell me how it feels, oh just tell me, for I am just a messenger waiting for the call. Doing and do’s floating with winged shoes. Just wait a minute so you can see, revelation is a split second but contemplation is key. Without it, it was just another second in time, worthless one often talked about at alligator parties. Just live with it, as we do with our big toes, the answer to its being with soon be stumbled apon, or stubbed. Apples have no way to fall if they are picked, they can’t be ripe by the hand of man. Newton discovered the first law of meditation, sit long enough and thoughts will begin to feel like the hand of god on your head, a bit bruised but ever the more enjoyed. For peace is definitely a river, one with a pure mountain spring, and an eternally immanent source.

Knocking on a Hollow Head

I have a collective mold that has been festering
And so do you, but that’s not my doing
One who is faced with it, must deal with it
But it lingers like polluted air, a mischievous invisibility

Mirrors conquer the fears others have of you
Still, you fear yourself, like rain dropping on the vast ocean
And what to do with this parasite, the systematic injuries
Show it respect yet send it packing, Destination: Next Door.

A pencil and rusty farm tools, maybe.
But far better to run with weights
For when they are shed you will feel light as air
Then slowly, your ego will disappear

The only folks who can really laugh are those in your head
Lacking the track that was once bookmarked
I saved it for a while, for a materialistic savor
Oh how I chuckle, long johns, long hair

I’m not going anywhere, yet it seems…
Yes here is traveling faster than over there
Not lucky, and certainly not proper
I shed my clothes, live naked, and watch for onlookers

The truth, what of it, a fraction of reality
What books tell repeats what they sell, and that was once a tree
So who to believe but those with a contagious disorder
Yes my friend, an unmindful dis-order

The Criminal Ceiling

Now you arrested a little piece of my mind
Why don’t you just release it?
Am I a commodity to be bought and sold,
Commerce for freedom, does it show?
Uniformity, I’m talking about solidarity
I can’t go on with my heart in the past
My thoughts here and now with my feet waltzing into the future,
It can’t be done, even with an expanding consciousness.
For my fate lies in handcuffs with innocent guilt interrogating
What is the purpose of this mess, this obstruction of justice?
Keep dragging me along for information and actions I don’t possess
For the only thing that hinders is life progress
Now begging has lost courage because it too has been finger printed.
What is left, I question?
The drainage of soul into someone else’s wallet?
For talking gives rise to lies and thoughts don’t lie.
This system I am living in has been tailored for a smaller man,
I’m growing while my buttons are popping,
Seeing the light has led to me to attempt an escape from this height, but-
But what?
I haven’t even been read my rights.

Incapable of Structure

You may read these things but no one is able to write them
For the future holds no grudges, and offers no solace
To win we must go out and loose
Experience the cold to be warm
Individuals can relate, but we are not connected at the hip
As to why, no one knows
Only that some smile even when no hope is left
Bitter, concrete, immobile and inevitable
Wrinkles offer wisdom
There is so much to learn from the imperfect, that-
I have traded my chalice for:
The comfort of bear hands in a pungent stream,
The warmth of bark on an unreachable back
The peace in running rocks
And the reflection of god in my eyes
For all of these things can do no less
But to point me in one immovable direction

A new feeling

I want my eyes to listen while my ears search
My fingers to think while my brain grasps
My tongue to slice odor as my sent grinds iron
It is the tip of every mountain that pierces my veins
These blades of grass prod in torture
But I am safe because I know I have done no wrong
I am not the one who poisoned our mother
But there is always a catch, one more than twenty one
I am alone in feeling the soft touches of morbid vegetation
Rasping my little hairs that stand in attention
For death is near, as the poison still lingers in the air
This does not stop my drive for recantation
Repetition until the last is gone….look up
There is a hand in the darkness waiting to pull you up
And until I go I will frame this picture
So that every eye can feed upon it, hope my friend, hope.
This very picture tells me
I am employed for eternity
And if the light don’t disappear
I’ll be here
Reviving the faith obtained from the compost pile

I've forgotten the god of my fathers
expanded the church beyond stone and hands of man
I am not any less qualified to judge beauty
or less inspired through divine lightning.

Starboard Plank-walking

The courtship is about, with warm weather turning heads
The young hearts aren’t strapped in
While the roller coaster lashes with a force,
Past the thoughts of gravity
We need more than air to fuel our lives
And without it some prefer to die
What is this invisible force that divides a man’s will
Into two heads
Of course it is unmentionable
And embodied in the intangible
It is the crusade parallel to that of knowledge
But far more effective in changing the course of life
For, without these winds the sail has lost its drive,
While forgetting its purpose.

Plum out of luck in a bird's eye

As quickly as my brain can perceive, it is gone.
Extinguished the unavailable.
These steps don’t progress anywhere,
Where to fear, no where but here.
The cavities wrapped in skin are plugged with corks,
I’ve seen there are too many fish in the sea.
One by one, we aren’t content to be
Purchased the answers in a hard cover,
I never will understand the expenses of life.
Called for duty, called for vote,
But what is it called when my best interest can’t float
It’s almost like drowning ten feet above the ground
I pity the birds with their encompassing view.