Knowing what’s next.

Man it feels like it’s been forever
umbilic unsevered and I’m light as a feather
tattered and tethered to depressive half-measures
embittered so embedded till I’m deader than dead
better bled out than blacked out,

Nah but hyperbole won’t serve me
my mind’s murky and dirty, thoughts toxic like mercury
slug life, laugh mirthlessly
impertinent lurker, think worthlessly
yes these words hurt, they murder me
and every monday I’m reborn.
Forget self-scorn for a minute
I breathe deep, sit rigid.
And for a moment I live it.
That taste of what might be
then I’ll unmake it sprightly
and feel my shoulderblades tightening,

I exist with the lightning.
Mere flickers of such-and-such
a dewdrop of cognizance
so brief it’s just nonsense
what little that’s left
evaporates with my breath
and I’m stuck back at baseline
knowing what’s next.


The light in reach.

At last
that ringing bell in the calm cool night
dream chimes singing their simple serenades
soulful rhythms cannot hide their glee.

Does it inspire me?
Not much of substance these days
apologies to blind optimists who see prophecy in progress
of some kind
while the ceiling’s caving in
and the floors collapse
and a culture so commercial
reaches maturity at last
do the blind not see?
Can the wise man not teach?
Is there something bright in me?
Is the light in reach?

Not all great works have gone unspoken
nor these half-assed ravages dragged ragged through stuttering streets
to be jeered as a nonplussed amateur
huddling, meek.

But the meek shall inherit the earth
as a notched blade,
better stays in its sheath.
Let your mind at ease.
Make a righteous peace.

Last sound.

Let sunshine seep from my pores and the cracks in my skin
let it burn through scars.

Let loose the untamed fire
of my upward swing.

Always the hammer rises
ever does it crash down
but that striking force is always your first breath
always your last sound.

Beautified action.

Rise and swell
let unleashed your childhood death knell
the terrific pull of beautific thought
the imposing prospect of beautified action
beauty ingrained in every inch’s fraction
of your whirling form.

Of the spriggan’s soul that embodies you
at this transformative moment
at the eye of the storm.

Nothing like the old pen-and-paper
to drum up some syllabic scorn
or a beautified vision of the myriad forms.

But life isn’t long
you gotta make changes
in arrangements
that’ll gain ye
the whole range of beautified skills in your various artforms
while intoning the bones of the myriad forms.
While exploring the font from which greatness is born.


I’ve never witnessed a darker of chapters
Crushed in each moment by a network of factors
Never listened as a friend..
Deprived of a daughter in her heart and hereafter

I’ve seldom sat beside an unfurling tragedy
And watch its wings spread
I’ve long preferred my livid quick fix, with a slick glint
so listless and vain
Yet even I see her bewildering pain
There’s no escape when home’s a barren waste so destitute
A poverty of soul
An emotional black hole
Daddy’s just a warped inversion of some father long escaped
Tyranny breeds tyrrany
Ouroboros in figure eights
And don’t forget our loving mother
Couldn’t weave a better spell
Couldn’t so thoroughly devour
Than to raise a child in hell
Fully buy into your culture
Like your father’s views are sacred
Buying t-shirts with abandon though you’d never meet their maker
You’d never turn an eye away
To see the bitter truth
An eye away from someone on the screen who looks like you
Scrutinize their diction
To see what you should be
Or be laughing with derision
When they fumble in retreat


Oh the humanity
Our sweet child so desolate
Despite our sacred testament
Our namesake as penitent
It seems that some forget true penitence
Is much more than a name…
Our inborn light of divinity comprises each membrane…

How can you claim to love your loving firstborn daughter
You don’t cultivate the mindset to respect her
The brightest line between a wise king and a tyrant
Is shattered when your parenting is watered down to lecture
And endless bouts of juvenile abuse
You hide from the truth
You sink your claws into the promise of youth
But in her better bright mind she’s no timid recluse
I’ll wreck the gallows and she’ll slip from the noose


Not We

Fetishize lies, they materialize
Within a nice clean built in supportive framework
Dedicated solely to saving lives at the cost of lives
Vetted by value in imperial eyes
Planet wracked in disorder
Back to saurus rex in an oedipal rage at each phase of the rat race
Venemous plague bearing the reckless infected with fecklessness drama
I’m no locked commoner
No church-going psalmer, not me
Not thee
And in due time, my brother, not we.

Waiting Splayed

Jabber night, sprightly
You’re a fountain of silver
Gleaming tongue tied…
Liquidly lashed to another
With a storm inside.

Maybe you’re helpless
So sexy and sweet
Just so desperate to meet
That elusive, other side
Where decrepit is dignified
And our doubts subside.

I’m talkin out of motherfucking new jersey
Girl like you could go far
Through that ring of flame.
Cry me a crucible, darling
Melt my mind in your name.

Let it burn at the hundred-ten thousandth pyre
In the good Lord’s name.
I’ll bathe in your flame.

Reach my eyes.
They’re so ripe for plucking
So glued you already
With that chest and those thighs,
I’m all sighs and that ruefully goofy uncutely blueprint of me
That isn’t all you see
Cuz I draw in a quick sketch for your immediate index
As a nonstarter sexually, you really shouldn’t mess with me
nor I with you
Though those thighs are true
And I got my
Eye on you
Like I’ve naught else to do
But little lady
I’m incessantly shady in the craziest ways and I’ve no need for a young thing with distractible gaze
To straight FUCK up my days
I’ve DONE that it’s lame
When the shadiest ladies out there waiting splayed.