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?