Approaching the Limit Point

i think my mind
is getting denser
--compressing to a point

loose strings
--the stragglers
are joining the larger knot

i'm losing view
of the difference
between what was intricately woven
--and what is just caught in the web

gravity has become
a much more significant force
lately

somewhere
in my inevitability
a spark will be trapped in my structure

--igniting mythic potentialities
--smoking out my my lethargy
and
--initiating the firefight of my life

implosion
has always been
my apocalyptic vision

i think i've just tied the future's shoestrings

Beautiful Catatonia

i, mad maker of windows into
the realm of real m-
anifestations of real m-
ind, re-almanac reality
i
maniacal over manuscripts of the
terse verse of midnight doom
sound the alarm bells
of wake up
dream forever
in the serenity
of the possibilities
of chaos
where ten-sided truths
emerge from obscurity
the ego
greets pre-conscious joy
with a smile
and the is, says to the end:
"a point in time can never fade"
as i sit enlightened listening to
finality laughing through the void

Convalescent

it is called convalescence
it's a malicious euphemism
to hide the dread

when human angel bones
become weary
they are put into a safe-deposit box
for regeneration
and die

if life is a sickness
then may i be diseased
brittle
and Never purged
.....never

if a psychedelic enema
is a dirty secret shackled shame
then your spirit is shit out
of luck

let what's poisen
in yr mind
bloat me

perpetuity
will be charmed
singeing my head
with flames of laurel

for social rejection
and qualification for sainthood

Continuance

the moon passing over
this ever moving planet
an apex of rest
in this vortex of uncertainty
the curtain closes
the show blows over
and winds down gently
to a pause
applause
the rooms are empty
in my house
now
my mirrors get older
i greet all the strangers

reflection makes wiser
to see again and again and again
and again
and change
and travel
vision vocation, elation
shifting in my brain
new colors manifested through the page

Red

one, two
fevered breaths
breathing in
what you said

holding in
the beauty
of the sadness
of red

resisting,
compulsion,
yet needing,
occasionally dead

i don't want...
walking...
cure.
no more said

Almost Over

i am no context
fluid, but impermeable
the overman is superstructure
not formless, but the form of forms

i weary in the thought continuum
tingle of myriad connections

seamless beginning of end
the vertical descends into
the horizon, leaving me pointless
in non-dimension
vertigo of shuffled time
down hole
no man has ever gone

Crossing the Circle

5 years of ingress
has yielded nothing substantial
but substance has been rendered
insubstantial

in ephemeral form
i observe
animated skeletons erecting barriers
and bashing their skulls
open upon them

so i laugh

and brains gush freely
spreading virii like
angels
to purify the runners like
simpleminded nazis

All hail freedom!
Long suffer the king!

* * Part 2 * *

submerged in water
oxygen
straining to the heels
life soaring to the seams of reality

drawing parallel lines
to the prodigious
--the deoxyribonucleicly blessed

perched
upon my imaginary
throne
like cyanide sitting
innocently on the shelf

i gaze aghast

and my hunger devours me
while the wolves
rip each other to pieces
and circle in on
chanting children

"ring around the rosies,
pocket full of posies,
ashes,
ashes,
we all
fall down"

inconspicuously,
the owls
hide in darkness
in caves
large eyes barely seen

the large eyed weary...

revolving
evolving
humming the music of life

(off, in the distance
is something
the others call a parrot,
it sings:
"insoluble,
intolerable,
this wasteland is foredoomed!
the end
IS the means,
the well-tended
thorn
is already bloomed!")

reduced by
human futility
i begin
in fathomless infitismals
to compress my vision

* * finis * *

crossing the circle
to target the line
enfolding the bounds to
continue in time

may i never forget
nor erase
the finish i saw
at the end of the race

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