36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond. p.3

36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond. p.3

a message sent in,
an alien satellite
requesting return.

requesting return
to an island to escape
to rest my tired bones.

to rest my tired bones,
remove this feeling of pain
to be left alone.

to be left alone,
an opening universe
awaits by the dark.

awaits by the dark,
silent whisper of murder
calling dreams to rest.

calling dreams to rest
so that consciousness can rest
with eternity.

with eternity,
one should always roam and not
amongst the simple.

amongst the simple,
the burden becomes too great
till nothing matters.

till nothing matters
and burnt out like a candle,
the wheels rotating.

02.03-12.20.04.

36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond. p.2

36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond. p.2

and pulls the trigger,
scraping off time’s memory,
peeling mental scabs.

peeling mental scabs,
red begins to overflow-
pain all in my head.

pain all in my head,
creates chaos, confusion
when asked, why i choose.

when asked, why i choose
to live apart? i reply,
to keep myself sane.

to keep myself sane,
some secrets can’t be revealed.
how much can one share?

how much can one share
before feeling invaded?
please, just let me leave.

please, just let me leave,
fading energy rising
desire to give up.

desire to give up
and a need for migration,
returning to space.

returning to space
towards a feeling of home-
a message sent in.

02.03-12.20.04.

36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond. p.I

36 haiku on suicide and the disappearing pond.

just needed some space-
it was getting too stuffy,
and i couldn’t breathe.

and i couldn’t breathe,
an intellectual’s dream
while reading nietzsche.

while reading nietzche
and exploring jean-paul sartre,
sank into a void.

sank into a void,
all surrounded by darkness,
i wanted to die.

i wanted to die,
but thought that that would be rude,
so stayed for a while.

so stayed for a while,
and all things became unclear.
who murdered nature?

who murdered nature
or the original state?
now, how should i be?

now, how should i be?
these blank stares aiming at me,
shooting off weapons.

shooting off weapons,
blood spreads all over this space
and pulls the trigger.

02.03-12.20.04.

separation.

separation.

soul rest, mind float,
was a dream. a groove
in the universe’s flow.
mistake forgotten and sometimes
feels so sad, the pain of heart,
scars of youth, up close. then,
then one gets old. then has to go.
create distance with the past-
to find space.

07.28.02.

paper or plastic.

paper or plastic.

contemplation
makes one
wander
off into hopes
and planets, revolving
around a
universe bleeding transparent
dreams had
while traveling
in rem, undoing
the errors of
an imagined delusion. history
glorifying
the gun, the bullet, and
the blood of
innocence shed. faith
extinct for political
gain.

contemplation
makes
one wander
off to see
through
the phoniness of

the plastics and synthetic
fabric of
society
to pledge unallegiance to
a burnt out
social contract
and a melting divine
lie
while wisdom whispers
secrets of suicide
into its
prophets, praying
to distant stars
for patience,
awaiting paradise
on mountain tops,
deep in
meditation.

contemplation
makes one wonder.
contemplation
helps one wander off.

08.01.02.

mercury.

mercury.

lost ago, along an ancient
time when man was just an image of an imagination,
breathing an empty idea, floating
as a bubble, waiting to be popped-

big bang.

creation seemed to float out of
the sea, grew legs, and began to
wander the earth in search of a
place to float, and rest its bones.

how did time begin, and who was
there to record the moment of the flash
when consciousness awoke, and whispered
into our dreams, “that nightmares aren’t worth living”?

it’s easy to get mad at all the logic,
keeping everything in check- all of the social
norms, and all the walls that people
have built up, while in the company of “friends”.

everyone forgot about the accident,
and started to believe that they belonged
here, and started calling buildings
homes, and other specimens one’s family.

but it was just a horrible accident that happened long ago.

a big bang, big bang, bang bang, bang bang, long
ago.
a big bang, big bang, bang bang, bang bang, long
                                   ago.
a big bang, big bang, bang bang, bang bang, long
                                                                           ago.

07.24.02.