The Minds of Strings

The strangeness of conscious
is connection. The real thing
is hard to believe. These bits
of pain. Came like a gunshot
to heads. And tails between
legs we run. To the breach
of morals. That reminder
taken. Away and away
we go. Into the darkness
is ego. The wrong choices.

Number One

Bad Street art showing a promotion of the Devil and all I can think is how I just need to hide out forever. Adoring fans of evil probably get what they want somehow. I personally just wanna snuggle up and dream. I have no drive to be famous or rich and well known and no longer even care about helping the billions of people suffering. Its not that I don’t care that people suffer I have just realised one thing. I can’t even solve my own suffering yet, I think that has got to be number one.


Sensing someones pain
through time and space
that she “Is not well”,
can break us in part
from our daily ignorance
where we are fine.

The laying sufferer
is as if are us.
Laying and crying
wishing to ease
their pain.

If you ever suffer
do not forget
that somewhere
out there in world
is someone like you,
a child with fear.

Meditative Aches

The reality is a parcel left on your door step. Not quite what you expected when you opened your door. Surprise! For good or bad it is never quite planned. Illness comes and lovers die, insanity and pain. Though there is escape if you try, though do you have the strength to sit on a cushion and pray? The silence of meditation is the only substitute for pains. It isn’t easy to do nothing, just concentrating on the breath. Your ego starts getting agitated, wants to get up, do something, find satisfaction. If only you could tell yourself how good you’ll feel after an hour, when your ego calms and you can be ok with just being alone.

My Billion Idea’s were Less than a Billion

In this room is a fight. My battle is simple, just to feel alive. With my cigarette and coffee I sit down here and stare. I miss her but will not find her in this life again.

The strangeness happens when I feel at peace, like after recovering from jogging. My mind is less blocked and attached to whatever it seems to belong to.

I have a strong lazy bone, a tiredness. It could be from years of the wrong paths. When I try to produce it is pain, a barrier, something stops me as I push through.

You want to just lay there at peace. In comfort. Easing your bones and relaxing your mind. Thoughts seem to come up and torment you because you haven’t reconciled.

I give myself a good talking to. I make plans. Really I don’t want much more than a lover, to tell my story to. Out there are people, billions, you have to find one that can care.