<\/p>\n
point to point and used by each other
\ni’ve walked beside and beyond
\nthe paths of indifference where
\nbachelors and badasses dwell
\ni’ve hung myself out to dry in the rain
\nand every day i paint this screen
\nwith letters, phrases
\nthat tell no particular story
\ni seek mediation and meditation
\nbut procrastination and stagnation
\nconsistently hinder my rehabilitation
\ndriving down the road at 2 am with
\nthe headlights of a predator lurking behind
\ni want to return home
\nbut what is home?
\nhome is an evolving myth and
\neven the strongest people break
\nlife is death in life’s disguise
\nkeep going you’re almost there
\nbut that’s a lie
\nthis never ends<\/p>\n
anti-ambition and stuck on repeat as
\nsingle superstars push
\nlawnmowers on a friday night
\nand the cats are watching me
\nthrough broken windows, waiting
\ni have this fear of leaving the house
\nso, under cloudy skies
\nand ruffled blankets i form
\nmind maps with forgotten passwords
\nis this writers block or just a logical fallacy?
\ni can’t decide
\nlord gimme one last jihad!
\nin desperation i bend in submission
\nto the flood of words and images
\npossessing my fingertips
\nracing to give birth
\nto the beast inside my head
\nand now
\nshort of breath
\nwriting this
\nhas robbed me of all direction
\nand even now this creation
\nseems somehow old<\/p>\n
through foggy eyes i beheld
\nfrank zappa and napolean
\nseated at an unfinished table
\ncross legged and having tea
\nunder an overcast sky
\nthe sound of laughter and screams,
\nrulers and visionaries with
\nconquests and dreams
\nhalf remembered i caught a glimpse
\nof my very own christ child
\na psychic baby with an oversized brain
\nwe are all anonymous now and
\neach decade has it’s high point
\nbut the poor are robbing the poor
\nsocialism is the battle cry
\nand the children are
\nprotesting with without reason
\nleaders, lenders, and lawyers,
\nrender this treason
\nwith fads, trends, buzzwords and slogans
\nmeant to lure the consuming masses
\nconjuring theft, slavery, and division
\nthese and those lives matter?
\nfuck you! all lives matter!<\/p>\n
traveling from the center of
\na bipolar roller coaster
\nvacant possession
\nthe music has stopped, and
\nlying here naked
\nunseen energies mingle and mix
\nlike machine code in the matrix
\ni am shedding skin and
\nwaiting to be reborn
\nliving in this moment
\ni rest my head in hands
\nnot my own but her’s
\nthe mother of all creation
\nin the circle of destruction
\nkept secret and safe
\ni understand that
\nmy mother gave me idealism
\nmeant to chase dreams
\nand my father gave me realism
\nthe will to survive
\nit’s time now
\nto walk through this waking world
\nwith the well timed war cries
\nof a conscious and whispering wanderer<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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