Hangovers and Pancakes.
Trees and tall foreign birds.
I return
to capture past victories
only to realize the defeat
of me,
in me.
Brazilian babes shouting.
Robin
talking to me
about shoes,
or clothes….
I don’t remember…
because
it was was Robin fuckin’ Williams.
Best day of my fuckin’ life.
But.
I am here
now
Again.
Not my best day.
But a good day.
A damned
Good day.
Love
Lust
Life…
MEAT.
All fighting inside of me.
All
Losing.
But
I
Win,
when I submit.
to you.
Complexed?
or just suffering
from one?
saving the world.
because I fear
my own soul is already
lost to perdition.
So,
without love
or compassion,
I set about,
making good works.
I carry, I soothe,
and patiently I guide…..
Does a true servant know any other way?
I serve this world,
faithfully?
giving everything
but myself.
That is kept locked away in a little box, Thriving? Rotting? Laughing? Crying.
Who knows? Who cares? It is safe, and so am I.
and this way,
i can give more.
So why is that not enough? Why is there still a burn, where there should only be void?
I have tried.
at times,
more purposefully
than others.
But
I have,
tried.
At what point do I seek the warm
embrace of you
my Muse-
forsaking all else
and
all others.
They do not understand,
and
I admit,
regretfully,
though I try,
I do not care for them
to
understand the essence,
the truth that I see,
the reality,
me.
In the beginning,
Many became One.
One,
a number only slightly
less
perfect than
None.
I seek perfection
but I can settle,
for Once.
The well runs deep
but the pump is broken.
and I have neither handle
nor rope
to pull my bucket.
a reservoir of wonder
and potential-
of love and miracles,
lie under the surface-
untapped,
undisturbed
unrealized.
I would cry
but I cannot reach my tears.
Perpetrating silence
deafens my soul.
an explosion of nothingness
engulfs
consumes
and
clarifies.
but it is still dark,
and I cannot see.
Float inside.
I grab one.
and it vanishes.
questions arise
with the falling moon.
History
repeats itself,
and
I
Fly.
Please.
I
Want
To
Fly.
Weave
Burn
Murder
Build
Abort
Create
Teach
Frighten
Search
Lead
I make words dance
I make words bleed
Open your heart
Open your eyes
And in one verse,
I will show you God.
in the next.
i’ll bugger him sweet
and
slow.
I am the Master
and
the fool.
Peace
And
Love.
and
Naivete.
We are all loving
souls.
Then
The first slap
of injustice stings.
But, its only your pride.
A small thing.
A slap.
soon forgotten,
and easily explained away:
Oh, they was angry
Oh, they don’t know better
Oh, I shouldn’t have…..
3 apologies, a flashy car, and a doctorate later,
You are making the sweetness.
Busted lip
Bruised rib:
even Papa’s Waltz
was never this fun.
Once your black eyes
open,
you see.
And you say,
“It’s not just me”
and you know
that this is nothing new.
And then you realize
that Mary Turner
is your mother.
Ripped out
to feel genteel boots
crushing the life out
before you had a chance
to breathe.
And then you know.
You know there is no halfway.
You know that they hate you
and they have hated you
always.
The world has come to hate you.
but
The world fears you too.
So, tell me my nigga’,
What would you do?
I am in the same place
again.
Searching for the same thing,
again.
I am feeling in the dark for answers
again.
Answers that once sustained and nurtured
now elude and mock.
Decide, Choose, and then Move.
is it so simple?
it was once,
when I was wiser
and stronger.
I want to remember.
I want to awaken.
I want
to not want.
I have forsaken myself.
is there any worse crime
than to abandon one’s soul?
perhaps.
But how would one know,
when drowning in purposelessness?
We write because we know
that the written word
has more staying power
than the orator’s rhetoric.
We write because we know
in a slight turn of phrase
and sexed up wordplay,
We will steal our reader’s own palette
and with it, paint indelibly onto the soul’s canvass.
It’s why singers sing
And painters paint,
Why builders build
And rockers rock.
It is why lovers love.
So, although I don’t agree with the Gauls’ politics,
I defend,
not their right to free speech under the rule of law,
But their right,
and the right of every individual, to express ourselves freely.
Because we are all of us
Beautiful
Valued
Loved
and Loving
Humans.
And, to quote a very intelligent and insightful friend of mine:
“…fuck anyone who’s offended by a cartoon.”
theDeprevation 