Backseat Lifer

Blissful ignorance

Brimming with the slow acting poison of comfort
The horn of plenty is fitted with a spigot
And I gleefully take my crumbs in silence
Oh giver take thy place among the stars
I succumb willingly
Raise the flag of ferocity
Misunderstanding only fuels me
I will sing the battle hymns
For the war I'm unwilling to raise my sword in

The Maddening

 What were once winged words

Floating through the breeze like
Rampaging pinions
Shot down in turns
By angels

Can a truth remain itself
In the face of the all
Or will it to be twisted and gnarled
Neath the oaken barricade
One never could say

On this pathway all we hold dear
Could swell and pop into the ether
Leaving one holding the bag
Empty and wishing for a compass
That lies not within

A beacon is a beacon
But where does it shine
And what will one find
At the edge of it's light
But more questions

A loop, a wheel
A stunning carousel
Trampling at a frenetic pace
As we wish to bare all
But remain silent

Burn After Reading

 

In the book of great or lesser odds it is written
Do no thing by half measures
Full throttle to eleven or no
When you commit to a thing let there be no grey area between you and your goal
There is only the journey you are on and the destination which you seek
The between is merely mundane stage dressing meant to muddle and confuse
But keep your wits about you, minion.
Else you find yourself wallowing in the bog of malcontents that also find themselves stranded here, some long enough to find the muck comfortable and it's foul taste to be ambrosia

For who are we but repetition and dance, perhaps to different tunes, of different tribes and names, all is limiting, nothing is forever.  From whence do we gather our strength to continue when all hope is lost, when we find ourselves wondering why we made how we got when did we where did we go wrong?  What is wrong but a mindset in which you let it color darkly that which taught you well?  The things that stick to the inside of your soul like a favorite treat you always come back to snack on.  What is left in the end when you face certain oblivion?  What pieces do we carry from one place to the next?  Why are they so heavy and why do we continue to carry them?  The bits that echo when all else is silent.  The tinges and twitches that make us tick tock so we can outrun the clock and go supernova on that ass.  All of this I will not answer for we can only find it within ourselves the things that cannot be written, these forbidden places the bravest of stars dare not tread. The hushed incoherent whispers between the words between the end and beginning, that ride the 4th 5th and greatest expansive dimensions that we cannot realize we realize even in our final formulations which can never be finalized, not in our greatest of fantasies or knife edged super ego walkabout.  This is the Tao, this is the way, up down in out turn around until you're inside out and now you're just a pretzel doing math.  Shoot straight, conserve ammo and never, ever make a deal with a dragon, or a cantaloupe.  Your will is the only currency you have.  Nothing is your right, not on paper not in law, there is only the will.  You who can't even manage to keep the same tense throughout an entire narrative, who the fuck are you even talking to?  No one will listen, as they cannot set aside themselves and neither can you.  You are one mistake away from true beauty, one push from ultimate futility.  Be sisyphus.  Be the Boulder be the one pushing it, slap a sticker on that bitch and be as delighted by all of this shit as you can muster.  Ad Astra In Nomine Absurdum.

The Only Warning

 

Do you think me undeserving?
View me through an unkind lense...
Pass judgment upon me in a hushed tone behind closed oaken doors.

Question my strength and ability
To forge forward through the twisting passageways only I can navigate?
That is your wont.
Fuel me. 
As feebly as your flame burns ,
I will consume you as well.
Not even in an active rage, only as a natural consequence.

Within//Without

 If only I could

I would
Burn all the death from your head and soul
Go to war against the darkness that plays Hel
Against your very being

If only a mutual understanding
Could be more of a salve
I would apply it gently until you felt you could fly again.

But I know all too well what you're up against
This knowledge, does it bear you well or drag you down?

I ask if I am a help or a hindrance and fail
To discover an answer.

Perhaps, until it is too late
I always hope that it isn't, but I know what it is
To teeter on the edge of the abyss
Only hoping for escape
For solace
For solitude and a peace that never seems to stick...

Does bearing my darkness to you
Help you feel less alone in it or...
Does my reminder of the availability of light make you sick from my presence?

I hate to know not, and yet...I know nothing but what is inside of me.

I feel, I'll always come up short in aiding, revealing or guiding, for my path is crooked, wayward and not thine.

Would I lead you to agreeing to destruction or has something asked you to stay that gives you enough drive to continue?

I am selfish, and I want you to stay, but also understand what I ask, is expensive.  

Active Listening

Realization clutching threads

A twist a twist and it all knots up
Throw it away or go through the tedious process of untying it all.
What will it gain, what is the worth
Why are we here, I ask in that mindset
Which echoes so loudly within my head
But when it comes out it feels hollow...
There is a cosmic event
And I can choose to ignore it
Or allow the shift within
Without is not important in this regard
There is no banner to fly to say
I've fixed it, I'm better now.
Not one that won't be ignored,
Or someone else will want to
Emblazon it to say they've been there too.
The real warriors carry their own flags
And nod at yours with respect
But do not touch.
Perhaps they offer a sage word.
There is an art to aiding in healing the broken.

It starts with listening
And ends with feeling heard.

Tripping Over a Sound in the Dark

Walk between, fall in
Where has the time gone?
Separate roads mingle in confusing ways
Stay the course they say,
But there's no map
Only a vague suggestion
At two am on a long forgotten highway.

Walk this way
Towards the sun and the moon
Compass a long lost relic
Am I beating you over the head
With my analogy yet?
Not a question of where perhaps,
But when and why it all went wrong.
I've got a knife that has an easy answer
Traced in a sigil of blood
Sell it for a song

Never one for eloquence, entropy
The great disruptor
All the choices intermingled
Until you can't make any of them
You're static again and again
Until flipping through the channels
Is a reflex saved for the last bastion
White flag of surrender
In a for of war
Undiscovered
Undetermined
Unconvinced
Of the place, the piece of a puzzle unformed

How do you win without losing it all?
The constant war raged in every aeon
Stagnant smoke and choking
And I'm back where I began.