Transmigrate

My oh my

My own mind

Myopic, mesmerized

Modal, chordal, synthesized

Divine

Oh how now

Open mouths bow

To opiate barons

Obey omniscience, ohmm

Divine

Now now now

Near new nouns

Noon nestles not

Neurotic nets rot

Divine

The Gull of Man

A gull caught by the wing
on the earthly wind
hovering
And fixed to the air
he was

A life paused, suffering
material binge
suffocate
And fixed with closed eyes
he was

A light made for the eyes
feigned an awake-ness
disconnect
But wired the minds
it did

The wings of death
float by the bed
of red roses
for all the dead.

Wired eyes body shed
to the wild pane
of light and games,
a man made brain,
a system of rules
artificial imagination
bent on recluse inaction
like the gull
fixed statically
to the air we have tainted
with invisible communication.

We are affixed to the cells
staring at us
with virtual information.

Instinctively, the gull swoops from its place
to a new gust granting another fleeting position,
breaking the idea of the fixed stagnation
represented by the gull floating motionless, high.

People are wired,
fixed, staring with a dullness in the eye,
instead of looking for the enigmatic
in beautiful visual information,
and active human compassion
found even in the morning sky.

Bifurcations and Binaries

The Bifurcation
of an anomaly
splitting homogeneous indifference
and fallen to apathy

Who is the caretaker over the soul?
I doubt its order of control
will ever prevail in our chaotic state.

Will you take the brilliance of diamonds
and change them back to stones?

Without great expectation,
there will be no great loss.
A shiny stone is just a shiny stone
until it is identified
as a means to achieve profit.

What I share right now is different
from what I've shed, across
the railway of track-laid thought,
ground down by the whispers
of my inner learner,
conducive to break down the complex
into no more than a few, merely unprovocative parts.

Binaries and bifurcations,
the anomaly is we,
without giving complex due credit
while wearing a uniformity on the sleeve
the meanings are choked
into reductions of one's
two's
and three's.

Cymbals

Chirp     like a radar

Soothe   like a whispered tale

Ride      like a vintage car

Fan       like sound through alluvial streams

Clash    like the waves in my

Heart

Beat

Daily Bloom

The flower
unfolds its petals
as the day opens
its colors to your eyes.

Its rise and set,
like the yeast
in the bakers
daily bread,

comes alive,
like the bustle
of a morning city
where work begins at nine,

and the roast
of an Ethiopian brew
is America's
energizing pride.

The day
blooms like a flower,
and opens itself
to be sapped
of its nectar,
drawn freely
from the indefinite
wells of its
palpable beauty.

Good morning
Daily Bloom
You've sent the birds to sing
You've inched the sun
over the horizon
and see to it
that it goes soundly
back to sleep.

Alien Landscape

A tree that is spectacular,

massive- taller than the tallest mountain,

inhabited by colonies of beings,

creatures, wilderness,

draped in vines, thick brushes

teeming with life, above a forest of geysers

whose small explosions envelop

the organic masterpiece in a dense mist.

A fortress housing the life

having fled from the season of

the burning geysers.

Its thick bark repels,

withstands the heat released

by the core of a beating planet

and absorbs the nutrients

from mineral formations

crystalline volcanoes

having spread in every direction

mineral throats

spewing the lifesblood of the planet

through coughs and chokes

amidst a planet

amidst a landscape that is alien.

AdAware But Not BeWoken

The man floats fetal like,

his veins are popping,

circulatory system runs heavily

to the muscles, seen through

his grey, transparent skin,

revealing the anatomy and process

to how he clutches fiercely,

and in his sleep,

attached to his hands, neck,

embedded, artificial ports to the body,

bundles of cables 

draped throughout space

connecting beings with other beings

an artifact

of silicon and gold,

produced by a vegetable mind

and lit with natures spark

a continuum of sporadic activity

dances holographically in the dark

A shock jolts him,

and all the systems

temporarily shut down.

He floats naked and exposed,

reality comes around

to the darkness he rots in,

opposing others he's never seen,

as they too, have been locked in.

The moment of silence is broken.

Some begin tearing out cables

from the ports embedded in their skin.

An ambiguous commotion,

roars and cries of freedom crescendo

more powerful than an ocean.

The man, along with his kind,

staggers to rise

while rubbing 

cobwebs from their eyes,

and see a world

through their own senses...

but this doesn't feel like the first time.

Reinitializing...

A second jolt occurred

and suddenly the dream of reality 

was a dream deferred,

as the electric pulse, 

still currents of programming

reawakened the sleeping artifact

from unambiguity of being,

reinitialized, 

and cradled mankind 

back to his sleep

where the memory of his awakening

was only surface deep.

Still in shock

man digitizes dreams

through the drapery of cables in space

connecting endlessly.

But what of the artifact?

Is its dream without penetration?

Have we not enslaved it

for our own motivations?

A rock dreams of being a rock,

not smoldered to circuitry,

bits and pieces,

and against its will

infused with the wild energy

of man's endless affinity.

The preprogrammed dependencies

are in action between both parties,

their contradiction sustained 

by the need of the the other

Fools and lovers,

mankind remains intertwined

with the cables to his mother.

Not into the Halloween spirit....

Warning Trick-or-Treaters not to push the button.

Dislocation

Isolation
And Disconnection
Spreads itself thoroughly
Throughout this whole damn nation

In a period of recollection
Thoughts preserved for our own protection
Designed to prevent the truth
Thoroughly holding back
A wanting expansive youth
From a mind dependent mirror
Enlisting them as pallbearers
From even the most minute self refelction

These days run thin
Like a world on a membrane
Like a film of pictures
With no depth
Contains still, many words
Hides many answers
Within a fragile sketch

Bringers of light you are hereby scrutinized
For lights shine many colors
And brightness blinds many eyes
Prisms allow us to see what beams are comprised of
At times helps us see colors unheard of

Isolate your spectrum
Disconnect from the rainbow
Spread yourself into the white
Into a nation made of nothing but light

Same Step

Many years ago today
These same things happened
Another way

In a place that was the same
But now has a different name
On the same street
Now walking with a different beat
Performing tricks
In the absence of feat

Round and Round the path will go
Where we get off no one knows

Whoever we meet
Whoever gets beat
Will still find a way
To walk the streets

Turbulence

Miles High
Shakes and trembles
Flaps the wings frantically
Wanting the vessel to land
Telling man not to explore the sky
Remain amongst the sea and the sand

This warning we did not heed
From Boeing to Martin Lockheed
Engines Louder Faster Bigger Cleaner
Fixed behind people
We leave this mother further
To find a new cradle that will hold
The boom from all these speeders

Now in place of tires
That have tirelessly rolled

Coverings

Pale blue alloys cover everything
Ominous control in every living thing
Dead crossed the membrane to the other side
From the skin-tight room
Inhabits our lives

A skin-tight costume we see here
Reflecting posures and postures
And symbols in air
Contact between worlds
Creates a dimensional stare
Out of love and connection we show we care

It is not reality
But a room of paintings
Capturing the reverb of music
In this structure built
In the middle of nowhere
We paint and hum the minds assemblies
To establish order
In the land of insanity

SomethingNothingSomething

Nothing has gotten this far
To be something
All from nothing!
The blink of an eye
The meeting of the lids
Tufts of miracles at the ends
A lovelier organic eye has never been

The universe must be created
Whenever it is seen
Assembled in a millisecond
And gone in a wink

But the twinkle in the eye will always remain
Outside of life and within
The inverse of the brain
The brain is in the universe
Marked present by the stars
Of redundant speech
Will soon become
Multiversal, merciful, spiritual beings

Light sparked from the center
Of the whole yet broken individulas
Fuels found for the sparks to set ablaze
Did not burn forever
And diverted the curiousity
Of every creative gaze

Forever the sparks set ablaze the new found maze

Confusion
Wonder
Bewilderment
Raze

In the blink of an eye the soft dark corners
Created out of nothing a new universe
Now it's really something, all from nothing!
The light connects the dark
Flickers the creative pulse
Harbors a ship ready to set sail
Ready to prevail over a soft blue corner

As far as the transition from the sea to the sky
The eye can see
The miracle at the end
A light which shines through the tunnel
That never ends
All from something to nothing to something
It begins again

A Fool on Rooms

What would you charge for a fool?

Would you digress to break the rules?

In a waiting line we found we were sane

Now we’re jumping planes

I’m insane and I’m mental

Outside of the room

If I seem to lose my cool

I’ll blame the temperature of the room

As I speak you’ll jot all of this down

Now we’re writing plays

I’m alive and eternal

Outside of the room

Someone else has made the move

To take control of making moods

I've been riding this body all day, every day

I’m on a one way, no way, someday

Free to be nocturnal

Within my own room

I'm Looking For A New Audience

Whenever you're looking for new audiences
be prepared to hear the unexpected.
The bearers of all truths are all humans.
It's good to use a second ear
another pair,
do they hear?

The internet is a funny place,

More trolls than World of Warcraft

More pages than people

Less censorship than television

Less dating, more gaming

Because who has time for a silly girl

Or any real, intellectual debating?

Well, the net has and doesn't have both,

It all happens at once

in a strange pattern of random thought,

evoked and locked in the circuitry of our desires,

evoked and locked.

If I try to unlock and open for all to see,

you have to understand what I'm showing you

It ain't so easy being free, especially when

freedoms got you boiling mean,

and you ain't got a drop of love

to be heard, felt, smelt, tasted, or seen.

To those people I have a delivery.

Deliver you from misery

to the land of felt love,

unless feelin' misery is what you love

then stay put,

and watch me fill this life past the brim

so that you can have another cup.

That Lone Cloud

The sky is lit
a pure blue spectrum
from high noon east to west
fading
to a grey, jagged skyline
where a lone cloud hangs above it.

It's a foreigner to these parts
having traveled across the globe.
Now, it communicates itself here
to tell us of such beautiful presence
and not a single raincloud draws near.

Even though it's community
expresses itself as a hurricane
the lone cloud forebodes
tranquility
Even though nations go to war
a poet writes of
tranquility.

A gust quickly sweeps away
the cloud from the atmosphere.
It disappears.
Later, a smudge of sky
and the cloud is one again
everywhere else.

Ingenious Solicitation

Marketeers, farmers, solicitors, telemarketers,

none have ever reached the threshold

of getting something for nothing

to the degree which costumed

children, ages three to thirteen

rake in free candy.

Their strategy is not imitable,

it's genuine and playful.

The goal is worn on the smile,

and the prize is worn on the teeth,

like a drilling company discovering

red treasure past the white enamel,

the cavities of solicitation

run deep.

The March

All together
As one large mass
Marches through the city streets.
The undead, soldiers
Cross-dressers, Politicians
The sarcastic tee's, Entertainers
Religious figures, Masqueraders
Mythical sorts, and others in plain clothing,
The village is alive with the memories
and representations
of imaginations past.
Yesterday remains and lasts
longer of supposing.
Onward the march of the costumed mass.

Just Before The Moment

When I awaited for the return

to shine brightness on a new day

My waking was deferred

And in sleep, my body taken away.

I had missed the song of a sunrise

I had missed the morning birds calls

I now wake in mid-day, swooned

by the enchantment of high noon, sprawled.

I'll Have Seen It Twice

Because I've been awake
for when the sun breaks
and when the sun rests,
I think tonight I'll wait
to see it wake again
and I'll be in bed before breakfast.

When The Day Wakes

And the glow of the sun

behind the curtains and blinders

lulls me from my dream,

Together, the day and I shall be awake.