Category Archives: grey matter

Still. #bangs Happy day, all :D

The internets have expanded emotional experience. #Like away, baby. Me, too. What are we left with then? Whoever, where-ever, we occur… right Now. As diluted as that will be, for our expenditures, which do Matter. Our spirits are infinite; Our human bodies, our human capacities, our earthly interactions? Time will tell.

As ever, the word is here. These words. Consistent companion, unflinching even to the touch of my firing fingertips.

I have hurt people, in ways that I have been hurt, after vowing to not ever create that kind of expression in the face of another upon hearing my words, resultant from the verbal daggers I throw to cut to the truth. It will never feel right, cutting that way, and yet there is a compulsive (com?)passion which overtakes me, a mission to unleash demons, that they may devour the fear bred by polite correctness, by pretense. I am in this world, but not of it, and there is no more clarity of such than when in conversation with some earthling I love, when life itself is at stake. “Life” being aliveness, awareness, awakeness. My fierceness stems from the unlikeliest of places, this (in)human heart [*in a human], the one that pumps blood through me, and invariably onto any who would stand before me and pretend not to know that the forming of the Universe occurred via the very same explosive nature of creation, complete with bang and scattering of shrapnel known more commonly as stars. We — or, more and more, I — understand that Love is all ways the basis, the intent. Therefore to hear it from any other Source is at once confusing and disturbing.

There is a chance that the cosmos understands, as it is the collective child of such chaotic, Loving explosion. And this is why I will always hug the sky, and feel like I am going home when I keep my head up*

She eats everything with a knife and fork, as though it’s the finest steak. Watermelon. Peanut butter jelly sandwiches. I asked her why, and she responded “It makes everything feel a tad classier.”

I love you…
I mean,
me

she moves like the trees
in a forgotten breeze
holds herself up
limbs bent at the knees
and what of the fallings that nobody sees
it’s never enough, this infinite tease

some poetry i found while toodlin around on my robot brain (that’s a computer, people!).

. . .

every morning i wake up, hoping to remember
only the things which will help me look at the world
with eyes which have seen all that is
and decided to open anyway

. . .

i bought and sold
all the marks on
the map
the train becomes
another trap
a kite in the ocean
stuck upstream
in the maze of
misguided
chivalry

. . .

breaking waves on the sea of time
tell stories
just when you think you’re someone
the little ache sells something
here, god lived until
something as nominal as
this
came out of lightning
in the summer
our best sins
escape the best of men
escape
the rest of them

. . .

she hid from the world behind her own shadow
knowing all along it was a plan
to cleanse the night
of itself, for itself
and mesmerized by her look
i walked right up to her
stepping on stars
swallowed by the sea
she took my heart in her tide
and pulled it close
then asked me what i wanted
lost in the dark
and washing away that which isn’t me
i landed, toes first
a wave of serenity running through
this momentary labyrinth
to the humming sound of bliss
on the ears of an infant
reborn

. . .

i drift between these selves
between these nouns
that show me that i’m here
as they bump up against me
before they disappear
sometimes it hurts
sometimes it’s dancing
sometimes we’re both invisible
and nothing happens at all

i reach for balance still
trying not to make a sound
wondering if i don’t care
or don’t know that i’m free
sometimes it works
sometimes it’s chance
sometimes i am indeed invisible
and the balance is a fall

. . .

there are people, precious people
who break other people, precious people
accidentally cracking them,
crushing them to little bits
they force their fearless fears
on tormented virgin ears
accidentally waking them
to wisdom fueled by bullets
and after all the fires fly
and after the show’s gone home
what’s left behind
is the subtle sound
of silence
ringing in the minds
of these people, all of the precious people

. . .

stuck together in reluctant matrimony
looking at one other out of convenience
as if to say
well, we’re here, so…
these children of mine
forgotten breakdowns
filial takedowns
face me in chorus
confused at being flipped through
a rolodex of morose countenances
their proportions epic at the time
these tired ghosts yawning at being roused
their faces swollen and ruby
and all i can muster
is another nervous breakdown
so fast
it almost didn’t happen at all

. . .

we humans, we gossip about beauty, death, love, and god
while everything else just is
just is beauty, death, love and god? or just is, as in just is?
as i said, we gossip . . .

. . .

i mark and go, tight-fisted
maybe i like it
you can’t escape
try to
slowly like they’re in sync
slowly slowly
thru all the deep ends
anytime
carcass and plaster
we bought this kill
equally empty
how could you cost a thing
insane and all
till feeling falsely
come here my darling
swallow, come in, come home
but i like it
we shower after all
clean what we can
i hate and stay
you like me
or like me for after
you cost a mere
lie
lying in the afternoon
the year is blue
insane in now
till telling
is taming
like a feeling could be
freed
must i see you
all of these mouths are mine
now comets
show and hide
i lost it
the grand dream
i fell nasty
for what was loud
all that allowed
was their gift
an endless supply
ultimate satan
hear them meow
they’re tied to cliffs afar
till all their
shadows fall
after the meow
simply the calmest
goings on
they let their portraits fall
inside the hole
are they for me?

there is a cave in my heart
that is dark like a womb
my heart beats against it
the echoes a bouquet of ghosts
tossed into the universe
beyond the beyond
and somewhere out there
beyond the beyond
a child gazes up at its sky
and calls them the stars
wishes he knew where they came from
somehow feels connected
like they’re part of his heart
as they whisper love in the dark
a blanket of hope that there’s more
and when i gaze up at my sky
from right here
when i look at these stars
i feel that child
i wish i remembered
where they came from
the stars whisper
there’s more

. . .
the world got quiet
sat still
like it does before an earthquake
and when it broke
it didn’t fall apart at all
just got rearranged
so it could sit
more comfortably
on the lap
of the universe
. . .

yeh. that’s me. and no, i didn’t write that after the earthquake. that wouldn’t make me much of a psychic, would it? everyone can see the past. i think.

the truth is, i burgle easy words off lonely tongues who never think twice of their genius. some would say there is genius in the sheer simplicity. of both.

—

skip your stones on the past tonight
sip on your tears
moonshine of strife
etching the sounds of the lover’s plight
to count the years
on this wall of time

let dragons lie where they fight
flames to the heart
sleeping through life
then leave the ones beyond your sight
to kill their art
with whiskey and wine

—

the crack in the fabric
means nothing
the unraveling of
reveling
nothing more
the veil being lifted
and faces
being painted
with brushes
of nothing
the edges are burned
with magic
the convergence
converging
to nothing

more

is the mask of the child
behind it
masking the
masking
the nothing

—

uproot the mirror’s smile
and the stilettoed prince
and all his paupers
become a shallow muse
unto himself
the funhouse myths
and bastard truths
upon the breast of marching ants
suckling the fuse

—

the world, in addition to being a vampire, is a treasure. bye.

when i stand on the edge
i know i’ll live
and the razorblade says
it’s now, forever

bend the road to give it space
chaos speaks a different place
breaking up
this pretty face

snagged on dancing peace of mind
puzzling pieces take their time
blood looks harmless
when it’s not mine

kiss the sky, remember when
i met myself all over again
and the screaming silence
was perfectly broken

there’s always that chance
of tripping on mirrors
where nothing is common or vague

where all of her hands
are gripping the flowers
and swapping the delicate stains

and piercing her glance
through all of her terrors
is crashing them out of her way

the peak of perfection is palpable
the sound of the silence serene
the breaking of bullshit
brings being to be
the glory of god guaranteed

the wish without worry is washing
the chaos of consciousness clean
the magic made manifest
makes me myself
the dreamer done dreaming is dreamed

the only thing that matters
is where you hide your sins
cuz no one takes you into darkness
unless you guide it in