blinded

i'm blinded by the sunshine face reflecting off the deep dark ocean of your eyes.
behind those drapes i sense a depth, though perhaps hidden by disguise.
and i'm drowning in her presence, now, and not a word can change these tides.
disoriented, i try to pull myself together, and reconstruct the best i can comprise.

the furthest boundaries that contain myself begin to fuzz along the edges
while the space between us hums with electricity, i approximate to the ledges,
and closing the eyes, i throw myself off, into the fantastic unknown abyss,
chaos wraps it's arms around me, spinning unconsciously, and then, a kiss.

the world around me pauses, now, in the most surreal kind of expression,
for more nights than can be counted, i have held on to this dream in repression.
to match myself to those perfect curves where your song finds it's source
to hold you in a warm embrace that contradicts gravitational force.

we're all these tiny tropical islands that somehow manage to float around in distance,
approximating to, then distancing from, the other islands in our near existence.
and the saltwater tears we are responsible for makes for a heavy kind of resistance,
fighting for our lives, the seaweed wraps me from beneath, and challenges our persistence.

dark mountains above rain fire below, everything possessed by something not right,
through the turbulence and waves, i'm forced away from her comfortable paradise light.
storm-swept, not sure if i'm real anymore or if where to find dry land.
until i woke on that fateful day on the shores of your sandy island.

like the trees

you're gorgeous like those trees that are in full bloom right now,

the ones that fill the street with their intoxicating scent.

there is an entire field, for as far as i can see, filled with wildflowers,

and though in their colorful landscape i'm encapsulated, surrounded,

i'm certain which one is you.

as we pull the velvet covers over our heads, the sky softly puts us to sleep,

dotted amongst the infinite stars, your twinkle is so unique.

was it the radiance of your sunshine smile that caught my first attention?

or the elegant grace with which your floated across time?

perhaps it wasn't until the first chance to dissolve into the explosion in your eyes.

and just like anything, the ages of history have deposited you here,

in the high-mountain meadow overflowing with countless like you.

history deposited you here, in this vast ocean of life,

where among so many we all fade away into the background of insignificancy, 

though peering into this abyss… trees, fish, microscopic, kaleidoscopic, telescopic. 

unlimited streams

unlimited streams of beautiful queens

pass each day with much fanfare.

in their dreams their conscious screams

to be held by someone who cares.

tucked into jeans, put on silver screens,

laid bare for the world to stare,

stamped out by machines, and placed in scenes

where from behind frosty eyes they are compared.

you stumbled out of line that evening

when you danced into my space,

breaking out of the assembly line,

contradicting the rules in place.

and returning from your chocolate eyes

i find my mind has been misplaced,

so in this kind of drunken confusion,

all of my steps i begin to retrace.

same game

Lazily sliding back into habituation.

Controls feel lose in the hands, slipping in relation

A sort of blurred-blind reaction to all information

Oxygen-deficiency, halfway inhalation.

Furthering this cyclic self-annihilation

Then the collar-and-chain snaps me back to realization

  Over and over in my head, subtle foreign incantation

Breathe my essence into its own perpetuation

                  Another cosmic iteration

                  Set to go off in mere desperation

                  I hope reentry is less than frustration

                  A grand enlightening for the whole population!

we are insignificant like the stars
and finite like the trees
destructive like cars that zoom down the streets
we expand like water as it freezes into ice
an undulating, self-contracting festival of lights
we are a circus, complete with paint-faced clowns
red-ball noses and smiles where we frown
staring into the sun till we are too blind to see
and disconnect the space that connects you and me
blindly we sit in our little black boxes
and grandiously plan like grandiose foxes
how to enrich this experience called mine
but to figure out yours is more worth our time.

thought on the way things are

i want to know why the birds fly high

and I'm left down here to wonder why

where thunderclouds can drop their rain

where monkeys cling to themselves, insane,

the place down here where dreams come to die

and it is up to us to sit here to wonder why.

what is it like to soar above the clouds?

with sunshine blanket warming your doubts

here, where the limited time we have in flight 

is all transformed, defined, as day and night.

dollars and cents for tomorrow's job well done,

two drinks to numb you into today's rerun.

robotification of all your sensations,

you're tossed to the ground like a cigarette

a whole divine creation for our exploration,

instead put into boxes and buried in debt.

and its all a mirror into the inside complexities we possess

after all we have been building since the beginning of time.

where did it come from, the disease over which we obsess?

consumes and controls the mind to dream in fantastic lies.

when did johnny appleseed pass by and scatter all these seeds?

why were we ever filled to the top with insatiable desire for needs?

how come the orchard has become populated with so many bad trees?

who can we blame for the ignorance that blows in the breeze?

there is a long cement corridor filled on both sides with barred cells,

the jailhouse is packed today, not a vacancy left in this infinite place.

and i'm reaching out as far as i can to touch the other side's walls,

desperate for a chance to compare it to my humble space.

and perhaps more frustrating than never reaching

to fully understand my neighbor

are the ones who refuse to reach out their hand

and resign to one more cycle of labor.

is there some frequency of light that only blinds some eyes?

and if thats true i wonder what wavelengths i am blinded by…

maybe if i sit for long enough against the prison bars that contain me,

and forget that i am completely stuck,

i might awake to find i slipped right through,

a turning of my luck.

there is a space on the shore of a great big sea,
it waits for the chance to occupy me.
where waves spread their white foam all around,
and sunshine rays dance from above to the ground.
encircled, for now, in aquamarine bliss,
while my body slowly melts in to sandy abyss.
my mind begins to crumble, i fight to resist
the incoming tide, moons erasure of this.
looking out to the horizon, a fuzzy blue line
separates me from you, a division of time.
and when i look rather close, i think i can see,
the dark outline of the bird who got away from me.
my soul becomes damp, saturated with tears,
so thankful that water can wash away last year.
with my eyes shut tight the only sound i can hear
is the beautiful love song, never again for my ears.
i am transformed into sand under the weight of the guilt
for having burned down the house before it was built.
only one afternoon of emotional frost
was enough to turn to stone the love i had lost.
and what do i have, after all this, to show?
as the water covers my face my body sinks down below
left with the impossible wish our love would regrow
i want to feel the lifeline i need you to throw.
but the line never comes and i'm left drowning alone
in the icy dark recesses, so very far away from home.
green foliage surrounds and imbues me with grace,
overflowing with sensation, warm maternal embrace.

I know a palm tree can be coaxed into the direction of the newborn sun,
and beautiful children, asleep, do construe, fabrications-dreamlike-spun.
A gulf as vast as the eye can see, so vast, the voices will not sound,
dejectedly, incommunicable, we stumble past, filled with questions of profound.
Blinding waves of divine invitation sometimes tend to saturate the senses,
transference of illumination, like water, erodes away defenses.
Your clock, ticking slower now, will purify offenses,
Be a good neighbor:
avow to take down all your fences.

Confined, sitting in an artificial box
   separated from the random spontaneity of everything unknown.
Mandalic wisps of multicolors dance
   straight through filibustered time,
   a self-contortion, succulent in the movements
   of the same set of societal programmings.
Sip the brew and animate the senses
   a habitual re-performance resembling
   any other monkey out there.
Patience is a virtue, suddenly becoming
   crystal clear.
In the background of the show,
   the master navigates his puppets
   in seemingly variable fashion
   an undulating experience that demands attention,
   screaming like an infant for some affection.
And we oblige.

Evaporate yourself into thin air
don't be surprised to find it was always there,
for eventually every molecule must
transform itself back into dust.
And the recommended medium for your transformation--
Don't be surprised, that's right... evaporation.

Evaporate yourself into the sky,
up there you'll find the answer to why
you are never to return below
where monkeys cry and bombs explode.
So much clearer things seem with raincloud observation,
dirty water is best cleaned-- the process of evaporation.

Evaporate yourself into wide open space
and feel the omnipresent NOWs embrace
a chance to breath and to slow... things..... down......
dissolve away into the space profound.
So next time, interrogated, the source of your elation
I would kindly pass along this advice:
Evaporation.

And I slip into dark places too,
you are I and I'm just like you
If I fall down and scrape my knee,
I'm just like you, cry in agony.
Why can't you see you're just like me,
what harm will come if it can be?
And I slip into dark places too,
I'm rarely sure of what to do.
The sides are slick and hard to climb,
crawling out seems like a waste of time.
And far above the sun does shine,
I'd rather be sipping from it's red wine.
And I slip into dark places too,
this facade sticks tight with super glue.
So maybe today I'll go find the sky,
and perhaps tonight, I'll sit and cry
Either of which seems equally fine
Though to the former I feel inclined.
And I slip into dark places too
You are I and I'm just like you.
A free fall that last indefinitely,
the bottom still to far for me to see
what waits to break this infinity?
On the illusion that we will be.

Unending, incessantly being eaten alive
as if inside the thousand-bee hive.
Unnecessary commotion, no purpose or direction,
a constantly changing, morphing reflection.

To busy, most times, to see it exists..
However, now gently, I'm tugged at the wrist...
Once again, politely obliged, I just can't resist....!

Obscurity

Spiral staircases directed heavenly to cloudy gates,
where marshmallow men load cargo freight.
Spinning, free-wheeling in unlimited space,
out of mind drips infinite grace.

Slipping on the ice your feathers reveal
the coconut, Scarborough fantasy wheel.
Spinning, free-wheeling through sonic vibrations
Colorfully far-gone are beautiful sensations.

White magic rabbits and blue-orange skies
fake plastic trees with sunshine in their eyes.
Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand
while the peanut butter lunch box radiates golden bands.

Confusion, the emotion behind which we all hide,
hiding from the creature they've created inside.
Crazy, the thoughts swirling through every head
Heading in that direction until they fall down dead.

Then its rolling green meadows of rubber-skinned whales,
waving and obscuring all the intricate details.
Blindly accepting what they wish not to deny,
the rooster crows once and dissolves into the sky.

Giant wire-clad poles that stretch into the air,
they hum as they service the polka dot fair.
"Step right up and don't be shy"
the map points down if you want to get high.

Where am I? How did I get here?
Who do I know, and why?
What am I? Who am I? Why am I? How?
Is this real? (Whatever that means...)
   As the cat from Schrodinger,
      I am neither here, nor there;
         on this side, or that.

Further complicating this mess.

A sad one...

and what is worth any amount of despair?

the proverbial atom bomb explodes in midair

makes a radioactive shower of why's and regrets,

like innocently falling, burning cigarettes.

fogging the mind beyond recognition,

dupes the body as false nutrition.

pointing in no long-term positive direction,

and satisfying only now, i have no objection.

venomous fangs intent to devour my whole

laid on the operating table with dissection the goal.

slice me apart and extract all my cares,

so what is worth any amount of despair?

Eh?

transported to another time, in my hand a bouqet

and all around us are the juxtaposed scenes of bombay.

an urgent message inside me is trying to convey

words without content to express my dismay.

appearing now, the cheshire cat, who's job is defray

all of the preconceived expressions of head-game ballet

realization! ah ha, but... now your face, suddenly gray?

i'll forever be stuck in this cirque'du'soleil.

a deep breath... collection of the thoughts led astray

but they slip in my hands and then fall back away

unable to reconstruct what is quickly decay,

i'm not left with much else but to simply obey.

so easy, it is, to expound with unlimited persistence,

now back to the insignificant, directionless existence.

Transportation sensation

and then i came back from space

violently snapped and returned to my face

the vision of worlds pours back into my eye

confused and half-understanding this victimless crime

journeyed to realms without understanding

not time nor place, with no emergency landing

stretched beyond, seemingly, all possible imagination

volcanic ash catapulted slowly blankets vegetation

returned to the primordial oozing intellect

formless, shapeless, though a mirror might reflect?

stratospheric elevation transportation sensation

my own little capsule for self-transformation

a small private space for the reincarnation

while the universe around me sits in deep prostration

to the inside-unfolding of divine illumination.

and as the ash from the volcano settles itself on the ground

i begin to feel familiar in this new body i have found

it seems to fit better now the old one is unbound

i hope that it lasts into the next journey profound.

Commanded from above

commanded from above, your instructions, divine,

justify just perfectly your destruction of time.

wandering, always lost, in whatever strange direction

the wind happens to blow through your thoughtless reflection.

your monkey eyes are filled with nothing more than the stars,

as each cloud passes by, anxiously grasping to what's ours...

and clouds are just that, puffball, vaporous mirages indeed,

how can your hands ever contain all the cotton that you see?

how can he slip past, unscathed, through a world that bleeds?

how can i contribute to an experience we can't help but impede?