Bass pounds through my chest
a drug free buzz,
I become more like myself
with every depression of the keys,
crazy darkness.

The rhythm radiates assaulting my senses
waves of sound crashing,
lyrics on the attack , vocal warriors
a transfusion of overwhelming power,
releasing me.

Crave that hormone rush,
long for the blood coursing through the veins.
pumping in the ears,
volume way up,
vibrating the rafters.

If the destination is not reached - let the journey be engaging.

LMD

I am permanent
in my impermanence
changeless
in my change
immortal
in my mortality
intransient
in my transience

What do I cling to
to steady
my rocking boat
where is my anchor

Is there anything
in me
that can watch the change
imbibe it
experience it
embrace it
and remain unchanged
by it

How deeply
will I have to plumb
the treacherous canyons
my consciousness
to find it

There reside many that live
In cold, dark, and dampness
Beneath the earth
Thus the eerie crawlers of the land

There’s a final domicile
Of countless departed
Asleep in amity
Thus the precious ones pending life

Hell is not to fear
A shared grave of folks
Where all are laid
Before the resurrection

Ah! A hot day on the beach
and all the sights that we might see.
With a cold drink within easy reach
( a soda, beer, or sweet iced tea)

Man, aren't those some kind of breasts!
Not the ones in halter top
but the saggy ones on hairy chest.
When he runs, see how they flop.

And that area 'neath the belly button
which all teenagers dream about
his hangs there like a leg of mutton
or lower lip of a full pout.

I was born
as an angel
as a free soul
then who cuffed my wings
and raped my soul?

Every relation betrayed
every relation sold
a part of me
a part of my soul
was I so difficult to hold?

Soul of mine
tries its best
to ease my pain
but silly forgets
the blazing heart

I ask me
I ask myself
is existence such a curse
or being such a pain
poor! With What words could it define?

in the night's frenzy
entertaining huddled shadows of doubt
sits the recluse of fear, hunched
over in a dark and heavy shawl

the nightingale sings her sweetest song
and the night-blooming jasmine perfumes
the courtyard with melancholy sublime

a preying mantis sits on my shoulder
whispering secrets I can not tell lest you
awaken from your dream and see me for
what I am--

a will-o-the-wisp, a waif weeping, a willow
dancing with the hunger
that is the blood of life,

my cup is empty,

room
walls that run
the dust and pitted realms
cascade surreality

why are there no photos
Everywhere
sitting casting our notions
like nickles in a fountain

sitting in the rain
and wondering
this symphony of great
heaviness dancing

The smile you see on the face
A mask, like actors of old, a play
To cover sadness from lesion
Wounds inflicted by tiny needles
Of trying efforts, love not returned
Scornful glances and desertion
I am left in the open to be beaten
By rain and sun, in harsh climates

THE LOTUS EATERS [ Euthanasia]--updated

THE LOTUS EATERS
[Euthanasia]

they ate of the seed of the lotus
hues of yellow white and dawn red
scents of eastern spices
gracefully flowing
on a warm Aegean breeze
and into the bliss of forgetfulness they fell
lost to this world’s dreaming
no thoughts of a heaven
no fears of a hell
and from a distance
I saw their wanderings
these eaters of the lotus seed
as each began to fade
into a sleep strange and still
never to wake again

let Malachite butterflies lift us from
organic stupor and modify the
conditions of love and art that would fool
our eyes,:

let form fill content and foliage adorn
our namesake, the intensity of
fulfillment cover naked presence
and steal orchids from bewildered eyes

but are not words thieves,
clinging to indifferent streets
and riot with declarations of thoughts
in stark, bare walls of uninspired minds?