The World

Oh but how hollow I have seen myself
And the mirror deceives as it gleams my reflections off the walls

But it is only me.
It is only me.

Darling, what that I have past the time where I had once loved.
And in this I have landed somewhere far away
Far far into the beyonds of plains that your minds-eye could never go beyond.

I have seen it!
I have captured it…

But where do you sleep now?
Is it not in the same way as you have before?
But then why do I struggle?
Why do I pine for something that does not exist?

My dear, my dear,

But you see that I am who I have always been!
That much I have seen, that much I must see.
For I am the madman that stalks,
and never leaves

Mother’s Bones

For two or four nights I walked alone
And in my walking I carried my mother’s bones.
She had passed away centuries ago,
But in our day and age
These were some lovely bones

I walked across mountains
But never seas
I trampled over vegetation
But never good mead

And where there was good rest, I asked for it
And the people they always, complimented my good bones.

Yes! I proclaimed, these were the finest bones a man has ever seen
Porcelain in quality, just a lovely sight for
Me.

But two nights past and I felt that I had come a long way
I dropped my mother’s bones and left for some other day.

The Cold

To all I can see
I am unclean
bathing in waters
I shall never leave

Let the cold waters
run through my soul
and find fire within
does it douse it out — no.

Moving on fire
walking on ice
The simplest bridge
towards passion and vice

Told me your hour
was still yet to come
what have we done
but squandered our lonely —
bear with the pain I see, the ocean waves will never cease
And here I know what’s in my soul
It’s nothing I will ever be

So broken and shattered
I’m waiting for you
So making it past me
Is something I knew

And what’s more for me, the evening of death
And where do we stand in loneliness.

Persona

If you have a kingdom, shape it with your mind.
And in this kingdom find, many fine fruits and good wine.

But folly! Look, that as your kingdom starts to rise
and the peasants rejoice in stupor at their lives

That evidently you attract
more beggars and sinuous crime
–thieves and spies love good wine
and fine fruits they pair so well with good wine!

So what does your kingdom do?
Tell me –what is it that your mind conceives?

Do you let the thieves and spies plunder towns?
–stealing treasures and weapons and knowledgeable lies?

Do you set up guards and law across the land?
But hear your peasants weep, their good cheer has left their hands.

Perhaps you set more spies after these spies
But then I see your coin-purse leaking gold.

I’ll tell you what I reckon
–kill them all and start over.

Set the guards and set the spies
let them have a good surprise!

Choose a day –wake with the clearest of minds.
Don your crown and sword and reverent might
–and clear the kingdom, that is mine.

First the guards –cut the arms so the water of your killing flows along!
Then the peasants –they crowd the market and a longing for space fills your heart!
Then the women –an ample rest should be had by all!
Then finally the spies –who’ve no where left to hide.

Rejoice! The spies are dead, rejoice!
The crooked knowledge stealer has been put to rest!

So there you stand with wicked glee
–having seen all the simple shades of blood and pain

But now, you’ve forgotten!
There’s still one more deed!

There stands a man –with hands and feet.
And would you have him standing there, so whole and complete?

Rather take my blade –and cut him down too!
I take it to mean, goodbye my kingdom of greed.

Here is a flower
Here is a power
Here is a love
And where is that flower?

Behold! His death –the man you created to erect this kingdom of your mind.
But now you are free, so start over with determinant glee.

Freedom

A man sits in a prison cell by himself
holding a butter knife behind his back
he speaks to himself.

My mymoy- my!! AToday tod-ey! tody is the dayyyyy
“Quiet you fool! –You’re going let them hear. Don’t let them. Don’t let them”

A door from beyond the corridor creaks open
then slams shut –a beep sounds, it locks.
Footsteps march on the concrete, slowly
while a set of keys jingle with the footsteps.

The guard stops in front of the man’s cell
looks at him briefly up and down
then shakes his head.

The guard speaks, “You’ve been a good prisoner. So as per the law, I have to set you free today. Would you like to say anything before I open the gates?”

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Stars

My mind is not awake
I run away from shadows
these shadows call my name
and tell me that I’m little

I want to be tall
and with it comes power
but what is power but lessons
that humanity is left with no answer

I trip over a slab of concrete
and just to be sure of tripping
I walk backwards over it
and trip again

The destination is far
so I cannot see it

But just because I don’t see the stars
does it mean that they are not there?

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Time

One day my mom came back to me in tears
I beckoned to ask what had happened
she replied that as she walked down the street, a man had lied to her
her being in need of rest and it being a hot day
aptly accepted to spend some time in the shade of this man’s boat.

Together they cruised the waters of unknown splendor
and the wind was refreshing indeed
until finally it seemed, that it was time to leave
my mother left the boat and headed home
and upon opening the door began weeping for lack of words.

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Questionnaire

His hardened face
–a maniacal smile as his eyes roll slightly
contrasts with my youthful gaze

His criminal record
–a long list of attempted crimes of assault, disturbing the peace, and DUI
far surpasses my ding-dong-ditching and throwing-apples-at-a-car days

His frequent curses
–marked by a tinge of satire that fills the air just as quick as it leaves it
looks for no particular response, and I don’t answer.

But then he speaks
about computers, thermodynamics, internet protocols, power grids, physics, the housing market, inefficiencies found in the world, ideas, lots of ideas
–roots in the world of problems I’ve also thought.

I break the flow of his ideas
A question burns my mind
–Is he as criminal as people make him out to be?
I ask.

His frown –and he points his thoughts at me:
–Why is it that a police can punish another man
–Mark him as criminal, shoot him dead
–And still hold no responsibility over their own actions?
–Kids…kids running around the block with state owned equipment
–Attempted assault
Attempted
–But it doesn’t matter what the crime is
–I’m a criminal
–And the list goes on with my attempts and my bad mouth.
He smirks.

I think I understand, I nod my head.
His face, his record, his curses.

Is that really the case?
I think to myself–
His face, his record, his curses
are the same as mine inside.