My Moon is Up

As I smoke here, the time passes as the clock turns. My guitar seems as if it is haunted by another’s hand. The petty minds behind me I am alone with my weaknesses. I can miss her if I can.

It is though there is satisfaction in silence. The smile is concrete for 20 minutes. I want to describe the experience of being beaten and still having hope of falling in love.

You can devise plans to win over your mind. To tell it you are stronger than a shadow. You are of course much stronger than a feeling though a feeling is easier than knowing what to do about it.

If a glow was to happen and you walked out to the world a million hands would take a piece and run away. Every day we live off each other from selfishness. We cannot maintain our life without someone else giving us what we need.

It is really just about passing the time. You have to get to death. It is coming and you want to be as healthy as you can when it comes.

Look at objects around you, you love and need, or some you despise. Attraction and rejection. The small amount you use is the tip of the iceberg much like your subconscious. In you are methods of subjection. I have had the unconscious swap with my ego as Jung says, the insanity is amountable to terror.

You should fear of course the reality of life in some way. If you realise the dangers you shall try to be safe. Staying away from dark alleys and night clubs where prey lurk. Even a street as pleasant as a church can turn to darkness. Watch your feet in silence as you travel through this space.

It is said there is death of ego. This may not be some pain. It is a closure of anxiety and grasping. It is a release of suffering and harm. Your mind can breathe again in sober moves, towards a tomorrow where influence is not the demon but a moon.

Non Placed Again

In gold, is some method. If you raise yourself in health, fitness, mind, heading towards that goal, you’ll maybe get it. The rabbit is white. The hole is a hole. The smoke kills.

This is no place, a non place.

You ask, what is it I offer? Most want to take. You want to elude a factor, a reaction to entrapment. A seized moment.

And sure, trouble curves, like a corner. Ending badly is any delusion. The mad woman enters and a flood starts. A fight. Against clocks, time, moments, a darkness of desire.

You cannot just skip ahead. It is a stage, stages, on stage, staged. You skip a little, you’ll lose sight of the floor. Feet must be on floor to walk, to run, human cannot fly, arms carry not flap, no breeze can lift you up and up to the moon, only jet fuel.

There are sensitivities. If you know, notice, feel. The curses of them. You gave in, you wish not, you drugged, you crave, holding your dick like a feather you flew, fallen you’ll cry again.

Here is no where, a non where, only few.


Oh the Nights

Seeming like pain, some ghosts, horrible ideas about the pasts. The over-under of my mind is grave shifts of the weird. These are dramatic phases of regretting the door swing to my death.

I must search for the golden hue. From within the clue is lightening. The tragedy is half the beaten. Why clasp my medal in my heart for being the broken one.

So the moon and wind and spaces in time, where sitting, sleeping, the whites roll. Goal or no goal at least no jails. Free like mist that travels around in circles. I wish you were with me in this rememberence of reasons.

The Cloudy Circus

Green tea for detoxification with honey
a cigarette and a blank page
make this moon fathomable
in my little knowing.

Outside cars roll through
and someone is using the water
in this apartment block
of my perpetuations.

Come to being my regurgitation
of seen and thought reverbs
caused from pain and laughs
in earths plane.

I am sane enough to worry
that money will never flow
from being a clown
in this city.

Crosses for Crops

Shake off the mud
you wallowing boar
and nail yourself
in a frame without shame
for the peasants to feed
with their beady eyes once more.

It come with a shiver
to address the reasons
to even produce
a loose grasp on a stare
where the hair on your neck
is a pay cheque for coats
that clothe the oars
when not used for whores.

The moon is up
in your clever sky
and try and try to remember
the time you were so strong
to gain a spot in a lovers arms.

Now brother why bother
to sit with the men
who build boats to sail
for fish and drink
again and again just to sleep
when you could be cloaked
on a stage telling truth.

You see you have to believe
that sweat comes in rhymes
and time and wine
are no place in truth
when you can reap a crop
in an instant sober
far greater than corn
which is thrown out.

The droughts come
and you’ll crave it
just knowing that something
can save your mind
from seeing the blind
face walls to be shot
for saying that something
was how it should be not once more.

Eat to not Fear

You can easily fear death even in peace
with a thump, or car, or moon.
Hunger is a fear you have if poor
though not all have been unable
to afford bread and milk.
You could walk into the city
and sit at a bar,
the next person you meet
could kill you.
It could take years to uncover
how they broke you down,
so maybe your alone
is kind and simple.
So eat if you can and are able
and rely on the Sun.
A meal could be your last
and the past gone
just from a kiss.