The great god's projection is upon us
The great god's projector never lies
Solemn light and shade and heat
breaking upon us
I've never met a moment so clear as the moment I see in you
Alternating and turning away, breaking free
is understanding the gravity that we are subject to
Books and tablets are carved in stone
prescribing the past the present and future
It's just a meditation that we have
He and I she and I and we wait
We watched undulations kicking across the surface
with such intensity as to say "this is that which you will become"
We watched tension boiling over and we agreed
that the surface was buckling and would have to explode
We walked as to know ourselves
with delusions trailing behind like menacing headlights
MM 9/12
Billows from a canyon
in shadows formulation
a god-form pervasive and dense
One gigantic clip or chapter
it can literally suck you dry
of life and of inertia
Shackling or piercing or nailed to the floor
but when eased and prodded
and carefully peeled back
Harnessed with such an extreme degree of concentration
it begins circulation
It casts light again
Gray shadows become nuances
within them lie beginnings
upon them forever and ever
Lead the way then follow
MM 7/12
It's time to start something
It's time to start something akin to unraveling
It's time to begin to being
It's time to knock off the rust
When time graces and when time sprawls
It's time to start mending menacing moments
It's time for breath and healing
It's time for the great unwinding
It's time for the great unwinding from the sky
Breathless in an ocean of infinity
It's time for waxing and waning
It's time for waves upon you both warm and jarring
It's time for resting upon the tops of heaps
of motioning rumbling unrest beneath you
It's time to realize that the morning creeps into your room
and shakes you with an anxious sigh
It's time to pass between a stage
and know that life and death are interchangeable words
It's time to pass the rung to the space below
MM 4/2012
Exposed tooth in an icy bath
Raw skin friction never ending
Chisel away to a hollow core
Volume open-space self loathing
MANIC DISTRACTION
Looking out the eye of a funnel
Daily planner-narcissism
Seeking out things soon to be hated
Another voyage onward and upward
MANIC DISTRACTION
Offer solutions without any problems
Waking up just feeds an addiction
Blazing paths are scorching earth
A demon's aborted exorcism
MANIC DISTRACTION
image courtesy of http://healthyme123.com
The days are the shapes of motion. Formations extending bursting outward. The majestic solitude of motion. Ghosts across the landscape.
Echoes and ringing and screeching halts. The drift you feel so deliberate. Deaths become marks on a timeline. Pain becomes a void sprung forth from.
The days are the shadows reflecting. More than just time or light. The motion ever-defining what it means. To scan or to plot the course.
I'm looking at my hand as a map. So coarse and worn so often used. I'm the jagged detail that is cast. The spade that plants the stake.
