Recklessly I cruise my memory lane
A plateaued plane
Which in hindsight was kind of insane
I'm not sure what I was looking to gain
There's not much other than pain in the ones I retain
I know this, it's beyond first hand eyewitness obvious,
Even prior to being forced to meticulously explain
Becoming increasingly familiar with that ruthless domain
Thankfully some truly cherished living snapshots remain
However, most have broken free from their neglected, rusty chain
And I'm left cursing the bane of my existence,
While, in plain sight, the flashbacks that cause my eyes to drain
Swerve in and out of my lane
Joy ridin' my misery or being metaphysically driven to the torture of the mind and soul,
Instigated by a fraction of a fractured brain
That to this day isn't clear on what's it's sayin'
Can not seem to refrain from immersing myself in self inflicted pain
Forgotten or slain?
What's it matter if the outcome will be the same;
Me, laying motionless in front of a roid raging train,
Leaving only a crime scene stain
One that'll go as unnoticed as it did when it flowed through a main artery vein
'Till any and all evidence of my unspectacular,
Super localized reign
Washes away in the rain
And I become nothing more than a name

©2024

breathe
in deep, out long
inhale, exhale
if i inhale this medication
will i feel again?
just begin, no, sleep in
long hours, looking
watching them
scrolling,
learning survival
is all i'm interested in

one day
i'll take action
til then
days drag on
skin wilting
strength fleeting
sleep, more sleep
help, no...
i give in

get up
you're still alive
open the blinds
it's nice outside
don't you want to
start, start something
somewhere
don't close your eyes

You are the Ocean and I am the wave
moving in tandem as if I'm Your slave.
I rise and fall according to Your will
though once in a while I'm kept very still.

I have no real life without Your sanction
which now seems to be like a distraction.
There are so many others just like me
and I wonder somehow if they agree.

In this manner You just do as You please
and deploy us all with surprising ease!
Our goal seems to be on reaching the shore
then return back to You again for more!

The presence of the moon has much to say
with what goes on Your surface every day.
Its influence is more than we'd suspect
and has to be treated with some respect.

Beyond are other worlds and stars in space
along with the sun which dictates the pace.
They're orbs of living wonder in that sky
and cast their shadows if we care to pry.

How unenlightened seems this life of ours
when we consider how we pass the hours.
For our days are numbered lest we forget
but through One's realization some are set.

There isn't much else now that can be said
before a time comes and we're all but dead.
We can only hope that we've done no harm
on the Ocean's surface that's full of charm.
_____

I once had a dream about what I would like to be
but the dream's still being realized in life to see.
To date I now find myself having a poet's brain
and a passenger traveling in an outbound train.
The carriage I occupy is starting to break down
and I wonder how much longer it will be around.
Though it's better to always keep a positive mind
and not let the devil of despair to rob you blind.
The life we're all living now is just another dream
of that Infinite Existence in the flowing stream
of Its own imagination which has no real end
apart from the limiting state we all try to rend.
Only a few ever come to know about this game
that is played out within a holographic like frame
which includes all dualities of form and substance
created to express Its own boundless abundance.
The illusion's needless to say so very well done
that we are all caught up in it and try to have fun;
going from one extreme to another as we live
in mastering the art of how to love and forgive.
______

At What Cost?
This Purchase of Our Future

a thousand answers + variegated shadings, a summation:

∑
of millions layers of our owned chosen complexities,
so many possible outcomes, it makes infinite randomness
seemingly simpler than our googolplex crazy preposterous
notational choosings, our owned decisions which though false,
cause nothing is tandomn random except for love at first sight

it’s all  just *******, we conditioned from pre-birth,
the expectations subtly subsumed into the woman’s womb,
overlaid by the ***** donors whisperings that you will be a
great third baseman, or a great bass player, or both, but
“your” fate, ha!
is anything but yours…
to purchase!

if you were born to live in a home with no heat, and water was
obtainable by walking 100 yards away, you would still be a
pianist, writing notes of plaintive need, grand desires, musical
words of agonizing delight just as when
you first blushed when the brain
connected yellow rays with a word,
sunrise,
and an experience was synapticaly imprinted,
that real things could be defined by an ordering of letters and sounds
and you were tongue burnt by a need so great
to collect these pleasurable things and put them in a right order
of your
peculiar
particular
personal
inherited inputted
design

=
and
you yet debate
what is my instrument,
knowing that the multiples of your fingers
are the engine of your existence,
and on any particular day they, your well connected perma-crew,
will pick which is the chosen one,
and
no matter which,
for you had nothing or little purchase,
it was coded in your pre-history
just as you prepare a transmission list
of your own,
when you daily first touch your face,
closing the sensory sensual connection tween
the ephemeral and the physical
and
the new combinations
that you will imprint upon
someone’s flesh,
that is your right,
that is you write,
that is what you were
predestined,
to
create

but,
(what the heck)
you get
to-pick the instrument of the day…

(
that,
is your purchase, your only cost,
everything else has been
pre-paid
)