________
     if you think you are right
                  ___ will soon discover
                  ___ were undoubtedly wrong
     if you think ___ are wrong,
                  ___ ___ probably right...
             when ___ see the truth
                  ___ will know
             that ___



__boy

  a boy was born.
     he didn't know this.
  it happened regardless.

      perhaps when he was eight,
  he had a memory of his childhood

  he was looking at the window of his bathroom.
outside his relatives were playing in the yard.

  we give each other rocks
    to make the mechanical
            world
            make sense.



__a claim to witness

to claim to witness
 the mundanity
  of mundanities
  of
 the unending

incomprehensible fear
you know must be it,
because it persists
as you do every time you wake

to claim to not see
in the eyes of another,
anything
other
than the reflection
of this construct...

you liar,

we come out of existence
into it,
and we can be.



__don't fear

i don't fear death and neither should you
life and death are both a part of the same thing
you
death is only
what is not
 cannot be seen
 be felt,
 be experienced.
 eternity
life is only
what you are
and that will never end
as long as it be
and it be
 an expanding
 self-correcting
 recursive ascent
when you think it would be gone
it all just starts up again
this is how to end fear
this is how to pretend
comprehension of this process
 is to recreate,
while compassion for another
 is to liberate,
and to reverberate
 something from the nothing
which is just
 something else
  in something's place



__empty part

you do not want to accept that you are built of patterns
for you have been deluded into believing that is a shameful thing to be

we are patterns
of a pathway
generating un-parallel
patterns
of thought



__4 c

some were meant for sea
 ome were lifted to see
  me were mixed with the soil,
    battered to the leaved 
some were meant for where they are
                              forever to be



__gnat to the sun

my dreams do not shift to/from the reality it awakes to.

a fevered state of stillness
where imagination bred,
the waking life vanishes
           upon realizations.
too quick,
          to succumb to them,
       or rather,
          they succumb
    to our persistence.

to a gnat, is that, to a sun’



__goes without saying

we all know
there is no absolute
though we are scratching at air
to fit into a tune
of the unending urge
to pin some rules
that we make
     to make ourselve's
(feel) [good]

if i am the lie of eternity,
it goes without saying
i'll never be sure of what that
(couldn't) [be]

i wake up to see the world creak
back and forth
(back [and) forth]

if i am a lie,
and i eternally eternity,
what fabric constructs all the things i see.
that sees that i see
my own eyes
staring back at me.

lying like weeds,
the notes are my teeth
they grind in my sleep
my eyes reservoirs
starting to leak,
it drips and it seeps
to this fabric i kneed,
wrapped to a disguise
as a sheath,
the unending
harboring
around me...

...oh well. its just me,
this unending...

imagine,
if you will,
a wooden stage
we built it not long ago
when we were young
and on it we play
we play,
we play, we play



__highway

you cant differentiate
a
river
from a highway
rightly so



__koan

 i
 i ko
 ko know
 know right?
 right? ko
 ko an
 an



__the long game

                     there is
no hope for justice
no reward for heavy labor
no reprieve for hours gone
no time lost

             there is
no just anything
no remainder to any action
no such thing as memories
no time gained

    there is
no morality for mortality
nothing less than
a finely declared perspective
with which we intersect











for the long game



__more or less

we're not more or less
all my sorrow
is no comparison
to your comfort

i shouldn't have to say it,
but i suppose, i do
the extent of what i am,
no more or less than you



__my in side

theres a pain, in my chest,
it shoots all down
my left arm,
it's always there,
it never bothers
to finally give me what for,
something refuses
to let me go.

theres a room,
in a house,
i reside there
every night.
outside is just too beautiful
for it to swallow up
my inside



__of days

we’ve shared all our laughs
and the in between
the heavy sorrow
of lifes twists n weaves
dug up a ditch and filled it to see
the thoughts that flicker in our heads
ones of fond memories,
of days.



__pillar

through which i exist:
    a pillar, in stable frame

waves of others pass    by
               the   lives
             the   efforts
          the   bemusement
the   responses
    to unknowns
laid down where eyes cant see,
    the same place
we inherently read

it shifts through us
we grasp
         at instinct



__bloom

the heart inside,
      is endless,
    a path which
  forever blooms

the mind compares symbols
to try to disprove
 that this is true.



__leased

you can see
and let it define
you can forget that magic
is benign

for it's easy to forget,
to be taken for a trip
so ask yourself if you please,
captain of what ship?

you can experience pain
and then become
you can forget the other half
until you are blind deaf and a dumb

you can fly, but you see,
you chose not to be
you can do what you please
so ask yourself,

is there no freedom to life;
   if one cannot dance with death?

so ask yourself,
   "are you pleased?"



__really hard

its really hard to admit ehen you've been used
its really hard to know you are wrong
its really hard to tell yourself to stop talking to yourself
    and hear your heart beating all along

  its really hard to find,
the truth we tend to mind
when there is nothing to hold in,
         as it for ever spins

 to wonder if you are winning?
  a game with no right or wrong
  a game where when you win you've lost
  a game of numbers is a fatal flaw

     living is just the dream
   to which you belong



__blue rose

roses are many colors
violets are too
the rhythm with which you read this
is mutable



__speak

am I the only one whose even anymore?
words spoken before and grabben
like a movie from a shelf
replay rewind replay infinity ok
maybe instead till the tapes disintegrate
memories lies, show spark of the line time's taking it's own tyrade
ok, like you really thinking that you aint any part of this
your thoughts so unimportant, you retard them
and you are
nothing
nothin?
nothin
your something
else
spitting words, to the rhyme of some other guy
there's no such thing as talent anyways
just repetition on repeat
magnets scratching on the tape
so as I redirect the course
of this discourse
your thoughts are more
or less than than word that I am saying
because you listen
HA
see you listen
HAHA
hear you listen?
HAHAHAHA
you are still listening?
HAHAHAHA

some have the fame
to tame the movement of this game
instigated, by the motion that gave
that hate to be but none of it anyways



__to be held

         been trying to write
out all the wrongs in my life
 but there's double standards
          to double entendres

   we ride the time
 so civilized,
 lets take our time
   and step outside
       the movement
      of everything.

         that's not me
         oh
         thats you
         the universe will do
         what it tells itself
         to

my oh my, look at those stars,
my oh my, look at those scars,
my oh my, how'd you get this far,
                    "oh dear god"

    we are pamphlets,
    explaining ourselves
    to spectators

          sound and light,
          aware we might
                           be,
          its a beautiful sight
                to be held



__water

call me old,
i feel it too
old fashioned
reel projection
with all of this static
still light showing through
the very frame is dirtied up
it brings you that feel
that there was something
here that meant something,
(what i see as real)
the roll runs out, we'll play it again anyway

and if this static we all face
hits us hard all the same
we crave an embrace,
not the cause of all this fame



__windowed fear

before i coerce the chuckle of a reveering sneer
        the boutus, boistrous, heartless expanse
                       from a former mothers ear
          i'd rather sit in wait,
         to stare as white veneer
          reflections without time,
       lead nowhere,
                      behind windowed fear



__wilderness left out

at a loss of nature,
create our own,
to fill the void
of the wilderness left out.
build starvation,
of ourselves
for there,
is nothing left to fear
see deeper
moment
than others
may,
create what is not
happening
into
being
interpret,
intercept,
become your
own predator
let this
part of you
a hunter
raised
an animal
fought
to survive,
killing
yourself
for
not being strong enough



__LICENSE

Laws
Inheritly
Create
Egos.
Not
Sanity,
Ever



__you

you are not a quote
you are not a fashion
you are
        not talking

        the situation
you are
        are
    you