Halt

There is this imperfection, this almost “too soon to see” the light can blind, the path unseen

Frightened of the tightening of the hands that take a second to understand

What it takes of you to let these fingers slip the sand

The tracings and the viewings of the child

“Why is the night dark, daddy?”

As if innocence knew, but protected

As if no one knew yet perfected

Their wishing according to their needs

Their proceedings a revealing concealing of the self

And its arms, the shelf and its harm, the cave and its charm

And I neglected in you, what took of me a decade to renew

Age has nothing to do with it.

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Tangles

I’m wide awake, yet working on autopilot

These generic modes we delve into, the aftermath so specific

 

Fierce is he who wanders through the jungle, and becomes civilized

Coward, who crucifies the Holy for not handling the beast within

 

I am talking to that one person that might just listen

If he understands, it’s as I’m talking to the world entire

On behalf of all those that mean the same, only in different tones

Language and sight a barrier to those that seek what they have lost

Don’t they know, boomerangs are knives wanting to slit

The pure?

 

Protect me from this, crusader

Your cause has won, but you have lost of me, what empties the secrets in the mud

As they reveal themselves to the rain

 

She will walk as walking is done, subtly

They will see not where she came from, nor where she is going

But the meaningless meaningful stingings that have staggered along the way

 

It might just take a minute

But all your life has lead you to that one minute

Days pass like they were nothing

Then why do some things stay eternal?

 

You are a shape unsizeable

You hold volumes uncountable, in your mystery

I wish I could leave off on a simpler note

How could I? Knowing that these tangles will only unfold when I understand the purpose of complexity

Euthanasia

I am here

Flesh and bone

But that one time keeps luring me back

To this state of timelessness that engulfs me away

 

Every house that I’ve ever lived in

The balcony is where I sit, in my mind

The outside looking in

All the places that I’ve been, animate now

 

It is your voice that gives all this meaning

Pointing the obvious, the red in the red

But somehow, without you saying it

All these shades, I wish I was colorblind just for them to burst

 

Reaching out through the inanimate

Stone cold, transitioned into this, we have adjusted

The moral dilemmas in our heads, have justified themselves

Mercy, mercy. While I’ve given in to one aspect of life, I have conquered another.

Don’t dream about it

Undulating on our way to the finish line

At docks with ships waiting for nothing

I pace

You starve

We figure eachother out

 

The difference between your cunningness and his naivety

Is that one thread that holds the soul intact

Had you an art for it, rather than a way to get away

With it

I wouldn’t have to spell it out for you

 

Portions, fractions, ratios

To stigmatize the dog for being restless

For the night to be too demanding, on the loaded, rolling on it

Find a better way to say it, man. What does you in?

 

Do you, buddy.

Kindle on the flame that remains pure

After burning off all that you look for, about, like firewood

Lay it to rest. Don’t think about it, don’t talk about it, don’t dream about it.

Remember

All the remember whens, made a pact

Unspoken of. Somewhere, beside the ghost in you

the ghost of you

Filling the roundabouts in your way

As if, folding a page in half, cutting holes

Where the ink permeated most

To create a perfect mirror

Of our burdens, the hollow

Just being

Reaching common ground

As if to say; “hey, I do my thing, you do yours”

The rest, we can discard

It doesn’t matter.

 

Pigments on skin

The pigments on our skin

Get to a point where

They absorb more than they let out

And this clogs our walls of exposure

This feeling of emptiness we try to fill

With disappointments we think we’ll turn around

And passive aggressively walk our storm

From the ones we use but love

And hate

This is a mirage

This reflection

It’s like a soul staring at its trapped being

How could you stare for hours contemplating your molded features?

Like tucking a kite to a chair and rocking it with inertia

Lately it’s been hard to reach

Consciousness

For it finds ways to hide

That too, professionally

It crawls onto corners we don’t want to visit

And so we don’t

And so it shrinks

To the point where it takes over its own demise

And leaves us vulnerable

Our own mind leaves us vulnerable

Our own thoughts want to flee

Stars turn to butter and slide down from their fixes

If they don’t belong in the blackness of the night

I wonder what does

Sooner or later

The moon will howl at wolves and tell them it’s all in vain

It’s like a splendid breaking of the dawn

Has anyone ever noticed

The rays of gold, and yet not so gold, that mark the mist?

How clouds welcome smoke, how fog greets the dust

How birds, raging with bitter truths, pause for a minute

Wanting to reach the sun,

Till they are reminded that flight doesn’t last

For as long as

Memories do

For the eyes see past the superficial

Let the blacksmith do what it was born for

Will ones intentions define what it sets out to be?

Balancing scales, by canceling either
Bliss triggering sin

Leaving its iron wrought

Wishing it were wood, with hopes

Of metamorphosing to the extremes of

Forgetting what it was

Before it was cut

Behind the bushes, where squirrels hide

Are peanuts falling from nowhere

That’s us behind castles

Trying to mend another brick on the wall

I don’t remember the last time

An atlas misguided a tourist on his quest

Then why does my radar’s needle

Point me to my escapes?

This heart, an unkind beast

Picking up the pieces

Yet, leaving your belongings

A beggar offering hand-stitched love

Like a mannequin pulling the threads itself

For a show

To his master

‘Keep thy word sworn to thyself’

For one broken rule, breaks them all

Purpose lost, is purpose found

We cut ourselves to make paper, it burns its ashes away

To lose trace of its worth

The ceiling closes in on me

As if I were trapped inside a jewel

And its mesmerizing reflection

Was that of my illusions

Bouncing on all fours

Explosions calmed

The more frayed, the more it shone

Till it blinded those getting close

Bewitching the ones that didn’t know

That

Not all that glitters is gold

Only I,

Can make it rain in my own drought

Alone

Not lonesome

Lonely

Or lone

Medieval era again

And the dragon slays its throat

For envisioning the future we would live in

The phoenix

Does not rise from the ashes it sprung onto

Instead

It decided to conquer the skies

With the good it shouldn’t have battled

Dreams spoke to their roots

And traded lives with fireworks

Up the horizon

At least they

Burnt down to their own reality

We had no reality to die for

Live for

Wish for

Or regret

The island for the forgotten

Contains all the thoughts suppressed

These are the inexplicable

Long silences

Even longer sighs

That revive with the rest

Where all the dust we blew, or wiped clean

Where all the laughs we shared, in our heads

Where all the burdens that were deaf, with all the feelings that couldn’t feel themselves

That’s why

The iris sharpens

When it sees it’s pray

Or why goosebumps, let us know

Of the callings of the instincts

To the seasons that promised wouldn’t change

You can emancipate yourself from dependency,

This way, be a tree without a seed

You wouldn’t have to blame

Naive seedlings

For investing in crops without a harvest

Of all the universe folded within your eyes

Or the one you create with graphite

To meet flesh with outlines

And color the sunset with your blood

Lead for me a path

With no return

The one I’m walking

Is making a fool out of me

For driving in circles

Through a squared entrance

Whoever invented time

Must’ve been real sick

Of not knowing

When to walk up, or when to walk away.

We are but empty bottles rattling with

Water

Begging

For a sip

Of the ocean

We neglected

When we were full

Peacocks lose their feathers

Their most important invasion of privacy

By ostriches

Digging their heads underground

And finding the secret music

To which these hypnotizing agents

Danced to, creating magnetic waves

That attracted

Both the poles

To whatever may

Without escape

Simple

Unapologetic

And yet

You want to keep parts of yourself

Like holding on to hot coal

And being happy

With burnt tattoos

That you give meaning to

Because you hate gaps

You want to know

Which degree required the lasting effect

Of your works

The smoke we filled our lungs with

Let us live

It thought

‘Why destroy someone, busy destroying itself’?

Such were loaded guns mistaken for words

From a tongue that spoke with lisps

Till it outgrew

Its silence

Such were the fates of men

Horses tied up

Picking dogs instead

Swords latched onto boats

Using arches instead

Risking the two steps

That ceased to let you think

Of more than

Eyes that saw the corners of your soul

And so my pockets, drew some holes
Accumulated coins, now kissed the floor

Because the burden of all I’ve wrecked

Now wanted to wreck me

Useless verbiage

And qualified vocabulary

Couldn’t mold my sapphire

Into silver

Now could it?

I painted my fingers white

And my eyes yellow

I rub them against nights

so they shine beams

of the alright

and show me the way

I cut my hair four inches short

So it didn’t get in the way

Of winds stroking my face

With clarity

So it didn’t disturb

The peace I felt

When I recognized something real

Can you invent a syndrome

Of the chronically ill with disgust?

Caverning in caves

One for each

So that solitude

Reminds the sick

Of what they missed about the depths of their selves

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Why are people so afraid of imprisonment

When they have created far more within their heads?

Too little too late

For realizations my friend

Spinning in the tornado

Looked like it knew what it was doing

Better to burn out that fade away

How low?

I just threw away the memories

Flushed ‘em down the drain

In two seconds

What a relief

No wonder waterfalls never stopped flowing

Nothing and no one is worth pausing life for

But hey,

What if it did?

What would you do with a stuck waterfall behind your shoulders, anyway?

Would you flatten the land so it flows ahead, instead of below

See the irony?

Let it die