New Speak (Sowing Season)
Some people
try to kill two birds
with one stone
but I’m far more interested
in planting two seeds
at the same time
Revelations in the Marrow
The vastness of your scope
as I stare into the sky
reveals itself here and there
with glimpses into the absolute glimmer,
yet the mystery remains ineffable
in a context beyond that which
my primitive consciousness can grasp,
and I’m beginning to understand
that the seduction of your existential aloofness
is part and parcel
to the inherent romance in this experience of life.
I cannot come to know you fully
in the spaces of my mind,
but I can feel you in my guts,
in my heart, in my veins,
through my blood, in my bones,
down to the marrow.
These two open eyes
cannot gleam your greatness,
but when they are closed
I can see dimensions
beyond this physical plane of existence,
and I can sense the raw power
which pulses from your source
as it radiates outward
to be divined by those who truly seek.
The names which you have been called by
throughout the ages
mean nothing to me at this point –
simple words babbled from broken tongues
cannot capture the purity of your meaning;
it is your essence
to which I am addicted,
and I will never cease
reaching toward your unconditional love
until every urgent craving in my soul
has been satiated by your presence.
Transcending Definitions
Art is not an institution…
it is an inner fire
born out of those
whose eyes pierce deeply
into hidden burning beauty.
Art is not a class taught by Academia…
it is a holy vibration
pulsing through the veins
of those who sense the truth
of this world’s perfect purity.
Art is not a transaction…
it is a soulful expression
that has no choice
but to be released
as a reflection of the Source.
Art is not a sales pitch…
it is an intense emotion
coupled with a vision
of crystalline transcendence
that ruptures open new dimensions.
Art is not yet ready for the grave…
it is a raging protest
against the mortal flesh
that sings the sweetest melody
about overcoming life’s suffering.
Numbers Game
Let’s stay awake
through all hours of the night,
here with the pillows,
and talk about heavy subjects
such as whether or not
soulmates actually exist;
or
let’s get sloppy drunk
to receive the revelation
that the sky is set to fall
in eleven hours.
Age is just a number,
it’s true…
until it kills you.
Platitudes and empty promises
are not one and the same.
I’ve consumed them both in triple doses.
One keeps me high as a kite
most of the time,
and the other always
leaves me in the lurch.
Prophecies and hand-me-downs
predict a righteous future.
I saw you up there screaming for your silver.
Even if you collect a pile
of jewels and gold,
you’ll still be starving and cold
by the time you taste your grave.
Choke Hold
Up on the steep roof
blowing leaves from the gutter
I come to realize
an appreciation
of just how precious
and precarious
every single step in life is
One slip
might mess you up
Walking along beside the street
watching cars pass in the cold of night
I get a craving
for some fresh air
not just stale smoke
tailpipe smog fest
One breath
might seize the lungs
Staring straight at the TV screen
going numb in every neuron
I found a trance
with the program
turn my head off
and get sucked in
to the shallow waves
One hour
might drain all soul
Sitting down for a warm meal
dinner table with the heat on
I know it’s true
that the energy used
to keep me safe from cold
comes at the sad expense
of stealing Earth’s black gold
One drill
might shift the plates
Catching flak in my own mind
for creature comforts of the modern life
It’ll drive you mad trying to save the world
it’s all illusion, Lord, just lay me down
Sleeping soundly between satin sheets
snug and cozy carefree nonchalance
I paid my dues throughout the day
won’t wear a millstone through the night
