grimy gus blues

the grime of love built up inside us
our sharp edges were scraped dull
from being together, from the weight of want
you reading this now are as leveled out and desperate for love as each other one.
some hide in the cupboards with shame
others fight all monsters with thoughtless rage
goals keep us from thinking of being
being gets in the way of achieving
sleeping blinking still and moving
imagining thinking seeing
only the holy reach for glory in the face of adversity
mind and brain aligned willing and forcing me
media corporate fast gorging on need
capital gluttony

shutting us out bureaucratic symphony hitting a soliloqy
disparity leads to sarcasm transforms to sadness and aching
hope on a string drifts just outside your window
curtains open letting soft summer sun in
all that dirt grime and dust weighs down your sides, and the window just isn't big enough
sitting in sorrowful stupor look at the lamp spilled in the shuffle shut the window
and the curtains as well
grimy gus shutting out the sun which he has shunned
bearing the burdens of what he has done
from door to dull drab everything seen so much before
home to check check double check check everything once more
kicked out gaslight gone out outside the world lost alone
sleep bench bed time good night walk work reprise
who am i alone in a room full of thoughtful minds and silent souls
this is the end of the line


empty fortune cookie

you should be happy and love
when i was in Afghanistan I was doing something a lot of people would not or could not do.  I was serving, and earned respect from those back home.  Something I never really had before.  Being there I didn't feel like I was worth anything.  I felt like no one or no thing would miss me if I were gone. I felt that a rocket today could be the memorial service of next month, and then anything I had hoped to do would be for naught. I find myself tracing deep routes through memory, pushing the grass down with the hopeless steps into past and regret. I learned to do this sitting on a mountain, running out of books and afghani bootleg dvds, writing and interweaving my experience with some imagined heroic fiction. listening to the fuzzy radio stations through a cheap boombox i picked up from a bazzar outside the gate, listening to the jackals bark into the night as I watched clouds move like white lace through the starry sky. I meant something to my howitzer, to the guys on the op's getting shot at in the distance, tracers shooting out like green and red laser beams.  Days went by like a dream, but each one strong with its moments.  a memorable time indeed.


it's rotten, inside your sad eyes
all the self loss
given up everything for
nothing, and nothing is too fast becoming sacred

when will my bones align so i can sleep at night
where is that little pill that makes my brain work right

the dark hearts and nihilists see stars in their eyes
quick to feed with pride like lions
they are lonely jackals inside


existence FAQ

what do i know of balance?
in the beginning space petrified.  It turned into solid dark blocks.  Gravity warped these blocks, and as they warped energy was generated.  The energy collected and the pressure built, then... BOOM!  fiery bits of energy break apart the still space.  As it cools and slows, somewhere in a medium temperature zone, a medium electromagnetic area, globs of energy solidify.  Stars and black holes spin neighbors through curved space, and in those dying rides life is born. 
but what does it matter?
There is no architecture for existence.  This space and space of being is a physical one that just is, like you wake up in the morning and the floor was always there.  There is no mold, no genius pulling strings, but instead natural laws that limit, not govern, the procession and being of all things.
who am I then?
I am you are we are all together.  As the little pieces, the tiniest particles of matter are slowing they vibrate.   An unimaginable amount of these exist throughout the visible universe, and they smash into each other constantly. With all of these energy waves vibrating another form of matter is created.  Life.
From bacteria to plant to animal to man, our ancestors broke through to form the most complex patterns in the universe. 
does that make life another law of the universe?
which came first: the eye, tongue, ear, or skin?
its hard to say what life is.  Philosophers and scientists have debated throughout written history on what exactly existence is, and how one should react to this sudden existence, but the truth is that very little is known about the meaning of life.  I think that if all the senses were developed simultaneously then the possibility of a god is more likely than i previously determined.  If the senses were developed two at a time or less I believe the possibility of life being a natural law of the universe and our existence and thoughts are all just more ways for it to reach out from the place where it sprouted.
Is there other life in the universe?
If life is a natural law of the universe then the possibility is highly likely that there is other life similar to ours in the universe.


axons of evil

want is my torturer
instinct is my demon
fight and flight mechanisms
turning gears with triggers too sensitive
grinding against oiled parts creaking annoyance
shaky fear turning into avoidance
I want salvation to be woman's beauty
soft things that smell fresh and sweet
when i was young i dreamed success and creation
now i dream of finding a real sure thing
the devil may have the industries
let us have the truly amazing
the golden moments of love and suffering
the highs and lows of happiness and tragedy
without medicating, closing natural synaptic gaps
using artificial means, breaking the system
ending the bad dreams

i remember a dream where i was floating through the house.  It was black and white like an episode of leave it to beaver, or The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis maybe.  Everyone was amazed at my new skill though i found it hard to navigate through the house being pulled up to the ceiling.  I opened the door and started floating up.  I couldn't control my path, acceleration, or speed.  I looked down lazily, dreamily, traveling up.  It grew darker as i pulled away.  Soon I was in the black emptiness of space.  I thought of how lonely i was going to be up there by myself.  I imagine this fear is common.  In the land where people often sacrifice relationships, friend or family, for the ability to rise above, for a chance to breath easy.  Sometimes a little pressure will make the lungs stronger.


insomnia is cliche in the media age
i held her hand and be praised
a real conversation exists in the smokey cracks
down in the dawns of deep valleys
where burning forges strength on heavy anvils of the earth
where i seek in night light serenity and cold thin windows and doors
they let out the heat of my dreaming
send me out to deserts oasises