artificial light

poetry

they’re eating you up
piece by piece
those people in your head
(the only ones left to
talk to)
are eating you up
and when they finally let
all the artificial light back in
you know it wont make
you see any better
you know it wont make
you feel any better
and the icicles on what
used to be the sun
hang so low you try
to jump to knock them
down but it’s hundreds
of feet up
the sky is ugly from the
street lights
you feel ugly from the
street lights
and right before they take
the last few bites
those people in your head
(the only ones left to
talk to)
laugh as the incandescent
rays freeze your face.

the chains he made holding us down

poetry

all of the blood was surely
pumping when my black knight
woke me under what was always
a full moon to sing me gothic
lullaby’s and take me wanting
into his lair under the dirt
where we would crush everything
in our paths

always i would wake in the
aftermath confused and lost,
my most precious belongings
scattered around my room,
and parts of me broken and
bruised and ashamed and i
would wait for another bright
moon never more prepared.

yesterday

poetry

thorns pressing up, out
from beneath the skin
death the new
birth to the old
gnashing teeth of stinging bees
raging war on the poor
the hated
the wounded
the raped and
cards tossed from hand to roof
cigarettes marijuana speed heroin crack
to wash it all away
that open wound
puss and then
one more limb to fall off
ripping open like a bag of lays

and there is absolutely nothing i can do
better than you

The world ablaze

poetry

The webs we wove to ward off wondering wanderers wanting what was withheld by one wondrous machine now wore off, waning with the wind, wasting with the weeks, weakened by the wrestlessness of a wretched mind. Yet I perservere, through the tireless and ceaseless ticks of the clock, every clock, bent on my destruction and the eventual fizzling out of my fire. Lit with the intent of burning you all.

upon revisiting

poetry

i took new roads back to that
old motel and i took a fresh
look at all the dead dead things
and stood there, not touching a
thing
not touching any of their bodies
i just stood with the flies around
my face and i think i may have even
smiled at the evil of it

nobody lives by the river anymore
and she waits there as the travelers
pass her by
offering that nutrition that man
has indefinitely replaced
and she’s bottled
and sold in the stores but nobody
goes to visit her
not anymore

so when i saw their skin piled upon
muscle upon bone i thought why not
and, years later when i revisit
the old motel that no one much goes
in anymore (either) i try to remember
the smell of the rot of them all
so as to remember when i smell it again.

Community

poetry

Who are my people
Who are G-D’s people

I am one of G-D’s people
and All people are my people
so All people are G-D’s people

I am no king
but A mere peasant
A follower of G-D
No one rules but G-D

My people are my equals
My people are my superiors
and I shall NEVER claim
That ANY person is my inferior

Code

poetry

To live for G-D, to love for G-D
To associate with G-D, to communicate with G-D
To find settlement where dwells G-D
To live for our fellows as we do for G-D
To share each of our triumphs, and to share each others’ defeats
To lift their burdens, as G-D removes ours
To count our blessings-earthly and divine-
and To give and not to count the cost
To understand the sublime nirvana
but To not only strive on account of this goal
but To simply follow the will of G-D