epilogue

in chicago back again: notion xi.

Frausto 4 Comments

notion xi.

what i have seen
and what i think
is way too small
to think much of
anything at all
as dreams are all
memories waiting
in the background
to remember
of the union
before the division
by the state,
so what you think
about that?
merde pure?
that’s what i thought,
merde pure,
we’re all covered
in knee deep.

08.19.2005.

in chicago back again: notions viii-x.

Frausto 1 Comment

notion viii.

even if the government says,
identifies and labels us
as new age terrorists
for disagreeing with security and patriot acts.
cause we’re not buying what they’re selling,
hoping for purpose and a point
to all of this.
through i, the poetry, i produce.
won’t get lost under and eclipsed
and the point and the purpose
missed.

08.19.2005.

notion ix.

i miss the way
the ancient way
felt
before being
sent
upon this way,
astray
from the way,
the tao,
each other.

08.19.2005.

notion x.

where everything
was meant
to be a part
of one another.

08.19.2005.

in chicago back again: notion vii.

Frausto 1 Comment

notion vii.

tomorrow
is a new day
to go out
to work and worry
and pray,
or actually find one’s way,
become true self.
the rest of us
will be there waiting
on the other side
where there is no need to hide,
or rush to hurry
even for the turtle,
and masks are removed
to reveal the raccoon’s eyes,
and society for its lies
to free the earth from the chains.
our paranoid egocentric selves
allowed to be created
in order to maintain humanity
in a manner we hated,
but afraid to change it,
but release the self.
let go of the ego,
become one’s true self
towards where the rest of us
should be waiting.
it’s just not as much fun
on one’s own.

08.18.2005.

in chicago back again: notion iv.

Frausto 4 Comments

notion iv.

innocence and virtue become funny.
no place for such things in a fast paced world.
working for corporations now, sonny,
as one gets sucked into the system whole
then one day one goes out just for a walk,
and along the way one forgets where too.
forget what to say, becomes hard to talk,
getting lost on the road on one’s way through.
this type of world does anything matter?
when everyone’s just a fly on the wall,
waiting for the chance to really matter
as if waiting for fall to change to spring.

let’s begin chanting secrets into space,
and learn to accept what’s behind one’s face.

08.17.2005.