untitled.
why you always want to be in dark places
when there’s light all around?
even the city and concrete
get sunlight in the winter.
02.15.11.
writing
being in the moment while being in the moment.
being in the moment while being in the moment.
i should remember
today
like i should recall each day.
as the day,
i changed a little,
i learned a little,
and got my soul
to being a little more whole,
not even concerned
with being holier,
as long as i learn, expand, develop and GROW
like the plants in our garden.
from beginning to the end
to be a part of the message
that’s going to change the world.
i should recall today
as not just any other day,
as how i should perceive each and every day
like the day, i chose to change the way
i saw everything and learned to finally
see everything.
02.15.11.
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implanting messages to later ignore.
implanting messages to later ignore.
broke myself into the inside of
my brain,
and left a message for myself
to find
myself all in disarray.
the world is rearranged
every single day
with the energy to change
the world,
but i keep getting dragged
down into a giant
great big hole
that i wish the whole
world would
just disappear.
by night time, i’m so ready
to throw it all away,
and not give a fuck about
anything,
and just give into all of the temptations
until i finally give into
deep sleep,
so that by the next day,
i’ve forgotten all about my
message,
and how i broke myself into the
inside of my brain.
02.15.11.
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with you.
with you.
don’t tell me you don’t understand
that everything’s been preplanned,
and we are a part of it, but
no one ever asked us.
we just got thrown into the game,
but i do not want to play
because no one really knows the rules
since there are none,
and thus it becomes so easy
to play unfair,
whether intentional or accidental.
i do not want to play.
i do not want to play
at living-
that life’s a game
for winners and losers.
no, i do not want to play.
i want to live.
i want to live mine.
i want to live my life
beyond the self imposed sorrow
and fake plastic smiles,
beyond the mystics and martyrs,
beyond the saints and the sinners,
beyond good and evil,
i want to live.
i want to live my life
(with you).
02.15.11.
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and somewhere we will meet.
and somewhere we will meet.
the world is maddening science
and murderous laughter
and treacherous whispers.
the world is misleading.
the world is mythical science
and magical laughter
and tantalizing whispers.
the world has its ways
and humans do theirs.
the birds have their own
and other animals more,
and somewhere along the edge
of the great big empty
or maybe it’s full-
an infinite void.
everything meets,
but only for moments, seconds, an instant,
and since well everything constantly rotates
and repeats,
everything meets
like light and the dark.
the good and the bad.
12.31.10.
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stood still watching/waiting.
stood still watching/waiting.
so the earth stood still
or the nation did,
who remembers?
has the time to?
we are sequestered
in our own little worlds,
who wants out?
or has the energy for the
fight?
who sucked the joy out
of being human?
who has eyes for beauty
or has the time to?
so the earth stands still
or nations do
and sometimes crumble
as empires are intended to
once the emperor’s grasp squeezes
too tightly
around the citizens’ necks,
who must then decide
to also stand still
or start a revolution.
12.31.10.
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alarm on snooze.
alarm on snooze.
we will all wake up one day.
one morning i awoke,
opened my eyes and a
strange feeling emerged,
but it had been there all along
like a birthmark.
an ancient unconscious feeling reappearing,
but modern society creates too much noise,
and it becomes “difficult to
concentrate,”
and you forget yourself.
i forgot my dreams and what i
used to want to be.
we’ll all wake up one day,
and stop chasing our tails all day long
until we tire ourselves out for sleep
because we can’t convince ourselves
that it’s all worth it;
the mind numbing conversation.
the constant competition and the isolation
produced by all the synthetic and plastic.
the artificial emotions and fake smiles
from the androids,
and you forget yourself.
for i forgot my dreams and what i
used to want to be.
12.30.10.
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when was meets is.
when was meets is.
when i was
what i was,
thought i was
that i was.
but it was only i
projecting
the shadow i reflected
while filtering
through schemas
and past experiences
while balancing with
my chemical imbalances
and predisposed disposition.
is this was
or
was this is
as who i was meant
or how i meant it was
to be, or will,
or has it all already
been decided?
can i still become
and go over?
08.27.09.
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Δt.
Δt.
the crashing symbol of time
is just a moment of …
but there never is any…
and we’re always so pressed for …
so by the way, do you have the …
08.27.09.
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there is.
there is.
there is a weapon.
there is nothing left.
there is simple me.
there is a dot on a map.
there is an invisible force.
there is the power of 3.
there is an eternal 9.
there is the fury of 5.
there is an infinite 8,
and 144,000 waiting by the sea,
awaiting the evacuation
of their temple.
there is an arisen prophet,
a fallen messiah,
a drunken leper, and poet.
there is the notion of night
and the stirring of shadows.
there is one single hope
that perhaps humans are not alone
as an intelligent
being; living and breathing
in this universe on this planet,
and that they are much more
compassionate than we.
UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s) 