Dispatches from the Suicide Hours of Immortality

The poem is a pied piper for the rats in my mind

the sunday times 8.18.19

go there

 

at least once

morning, noon

and night

 

to keep the gears from grinding

to keep the fingers from slipping

 

somewhere out beyond the day

and all its doings

there is an elsewhere

that longs for presence

 

a place to feed the soul

and simply breathe.

*

in the wait

 

connection crossed

tension dismantled

 

appearing at ease

from the distance

 

telling time soon to approach

 

back from elsewhere

to common ground

 

toward the unknown possibility

of new endeavor.

*

hark and hollow

 

low in the darkness

beneath the heat

 

july ending like a fire in the night

three days up in flames

 

a new garden rumbles

from the guts of berlin

 

eons of thought

traced like headlights

across the ceiling

 

with someone, somewhere

to think about

 

and wonder

what comes next.

*

third in a trilogy

 

a while back

now it comes

 

a chance like a feather

descending to grace the abyss

 

attention at ease

despite tendencies to the contrary

 

the same different page

to burn anew

 

in hopes of something better

than nothing at all.

*

breaking dawn

 

mourning tides pull

bright words burn thru

 

risk for the taking

optioning surrender instead

 

a day to ease the blows

solitude chosen for now

 

in the cool dark space

of an echoed silence.

***

“The truth is not straining for the truth,

the truth is in effortlessness. The truth

is in being, not trying.”

  • Richard Hell

 

 

 

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the sunday times 8.11.19

no way

 

counter to the urge

of futile necessity

 

demand thrusts hope away

 

the sides worn thin and grating

ledge after ledge tempts with the abyss

of immortality

 

accept that there is nothing

and nothing there will be

 

think no thought

right no wrong

 

like smoke

in the clutch

of a dying hand

 

leave no trace of flight

upon this void.

*

too long gone

 

jangled keys in covered clouds

the unexplained movements

of shadow across the heart

 

hung on a phrase

or a picture of time

 

a different sequence of frequency

circles traced infinitely outward

 

the song

the dance

the chorus

the verse

 

forward thru this endeavor

from which we are never meant

to return.

*

true blood

 

caged in the bones of the heart

a harmless coronation dissolved

 

one last song

like a river

flows

 

endless of letting go

hopeless of fall

 

finally unlocked.

*

connectivity

 

reachable ledges

beyond pale comparisons

 

each endeavor

a step away

 

in closer proximity

to moments of truth

 

no unclaimed baggage

to clutter the way

 

everything owned

and confronted

 

the table cleared

smiles on a blank slate

 

both sides win.

***

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”

– Toni Morrison

the sunday times 8.4.19

unsettled

 

hither in the mist

 

mirror fogged

with the breath of whispers

 

melody and mayhem

 

pianos burn

in an opera of thought

 

everything crashes

then quiets

 

bolted awake

by the intense hollow

of too deep a sleep

 

neon crosses line the parlor

 

outside

the sky alight

with song

 

and here we remain

 

alone and waiting.

*

might as well

 

the night it laughs

in on the joke

 

stars wander

thru glint and gleam

 

beneath this blanket of dark roses

we make do with what can be found

 

in a look

in a poem

in a kiss

in a bottle of lightning

 

always needing something to do the trick

we can no longer do ourselves

 

down in holes of our own making

walking into walls, off cliffs

 

tripping into shopping mall ponds

 

oblivious to everything we need

and chained to everything we don’t.

*

refuge

 

fierce winds

call to arms

 

others eyes

see other ways

 

we are not

who we think we are

to everyone

 

only parts

of another whole

 

maybe meaningful

maybe hardly remembered

 

significance is relative

 

just be kind

in whatever chaos

you find yourself in

 

be true of stride

and open of heart

 

bring your light

wherever you go

 

and the rest

will take care

of itself.

*

sparrows in the eaves

 

morning dogs

dodge the diving bombs

 

impatience cries in the bathroom

while she puts on her face

 

cold lasers may dull the pain for now

but we’ll really never know

 

much like needles and car rides

everyone is alone

 

at the beginning and at the end

 

all we need to remember

is that love is the only thing

 

that can make everything in between

matter.

***

“We have to dare to be ourselves,

however frightening and strange

that self may prove to be.”

  • May Sarton

the sunday times 7.28.19

true remains

 

an open plain

of vast expanse

 

not limited by history,

conditions, or circumstance

 

wholly unidentifiable

if not for the color

and the shape

 

filled with points unknown

where meaning need remain meaningless

 

to maintain the delicate balance

of mystery and attention

 

to search not

for the future

of humanity

 

but for

the presence

of eternity.

*

out of the blue

 

broad spectrum burst

 

we fall as we may

 

finding none

but each other

in the ruins

 

cast like shadows in street light

 

upon the long road home.

*

a separate illusion

 

all here

surrounded

by light

 

in the middle of an abyss

 

a microcosm of epic proportion

inside each speck of dust

 

blood rich with dying stars

mind racing with nonsense and minutiae

 

distractions from impermanence and acceptance

 

unable to rise or fall

without broadcast and fanfare

 

angels with blackened wings

devils with hearts of gold

 

trapped in our own mythology

of torture and reward

 

becoming nothing more

than monuments to complacence

and inertia

 

while every other viable option

quickly slips away.

*

always here

 

gone deep

 

pulled from dream

into the gray morning

 

light abounds

beyond the clouds

 

everything in time

is present at once

 

it is only our view that changes

as it all passes by.

*

unwound

 

dark behind the door

a turning has begun

 

flat the falling

of quickness and idea

 

as the mind goes south

and the day goes on regardless

 

catching time

before it sails away

 

a delicate balance

 

the dance continues.

***

“Every man and every woman is a star.

We are all free, all independent, all shining gloriously,

each one a radiant world.”

  • Aleister Crowley

 

 

 

 

 

the sunday times 7.21.19

encrypted vulnerability

 

altered chemistry undone

left beyond the break

 

strange terrain all too familiar

known but not

 

gradually abrupt

no sense but reason

 

still the sharp edges of memory

gouge the present

 

as a painful reminder

of what is no longer here.

*

simple complexities

 

tension surfaces

taut wires pull

 

caged inside abstraction

thoughts converge

 

confrontation awaits

 

becoming the door thru which

we accept the craziness

the give, the unburdening

 

that allow us

to finally

move on.

*

eternity to extinction

 

bred to bind and sever

instinct delegated to gadgetry

 

oceans of storm and static

remain uncrossed

 

evolution atrophied

by technicality and

easy stalemate

 

perpetuating disharmony

for the advance of dependence

upon material security

 

luxury at the cost of peace of mind

 

none of this matters

none of this lasts

 

but we obsess over new ways

to make it matter and make it last

 

while the present becomes an afterthought

 

and our existence

becomes nothing more

than the same.

*

deep cover

 

a kindness grateful

needed beneath this skin

 

working its way

thru sedimentary sentiment

 

buried further

by year and scar

 

but now

the darker it gets

the brighter it becomes

 

finding a way to flower

in this cold and desolate climate

 

a true purpose found

 

everything else

be damned.

***

“Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself

and in surpassing itself; if all it does is

maintain itself, then living is only not dying.”

  • Simone de Beauvoir

 

 

 

 

 

 

the sunday times 7.14.19

almost here

 

paths uncovered

souvenirs returned

 

depths charged

with different light

 

to bring forth

upon new and rising roads

 

the spaciousness of attention

to the heart’s truest song.

*

paper dragons

 

commonality assuaged

firm on the shifting ground

 

down in the break

clouds submerged

 

walls dissolve, further breached

from darkness to light

 

the circle of knowing

strays from habit

 

for better means

rather than bitter ends.

*

what we carry

 

from end to end

from love to love

 

approaching edges

to survey or turn about

 

to feel the reason

and speak the words

 

to dig and dredge

and give no quarter

 

momentary and eternal

this span we traverse

 

so travel light

 

and if the best we can do

is say goodbye without leaving a scar

 

we have found a better way

to face the day.

*

nothing to see

 

convergence

from all directions

 

thought

and shadow

the same

 

all tricks

of light

and time

 

culled distraction

permeates thru repetition

 

sink to the root

and cut off the pass

 

neither forward nor back

but the pinnacle everlasting

 

forever changing

 

endless moment

by endless moment.

***

“A mind which will not melt,

with sorrow or love, is a mind

which will all too easily break.”

  • Alan Watts

the sunday times 7.7.19

past tense

 

back to the same somewhere

 

the place we leave off

and begin again

 

wondering if chance

will grace our presence

with reunion

 

or leave us be

as we were

 

once parted.

*

codes and combinations

 

resonant distance

wired thru emotion

to connect

 

small windows of reciprocation

to go on for now

 

thru the next bit of heaven or hell

neither of which ever really exists

 

mated souls

crossing paths

now and again

help make this all bearable

 

in the exact moments

precision is needed most.

*

extraction

 

time deep

in spaces lost

 

further removed

further inside

 

a witness to the witness

to the execution no more

 

arms aloft

open to the sky

 

ready for everything

or nothing

 

it’s all for the best.

*

all roads

 

thru clank and tread

 

leaving be

the burden unbecoming

 

onward with shadows in tow

 

wiser for losing

stronger for solitude

 

doubling back

twice removed

 

tending wounds

of lessons learned

 

from all that love can bring

 

and all we take away.

*

hypothetical void

 

strands embedded

with encrypted solutions

 

everywhere the keys

thru wake and dream

 

adhering to no linear sequence

but that which memory crudely dictates

 

wordless and unsecured

existence parallels consciousness

 

only light

only darkness

 

dancing thru eternity.

*

no hard feelings

 

laughing at the heart

still stubborn, still pretending

 

for all the times

broken and mended

 

always thinking

never again

 

yet here it is

promise, possibility

 

the spark of something

vital and true

 

a purpose served

for as long as it may last.

***

“The mind creates the abyss,

the heart crosses it.”

  • Nisargadatta Maharaj

the sunday times 6.30.19

traces

 

no anchor for places never gone again

to remain adrift in the simplicity of shadow

 

just out of reach

in the attic of emotion

 

creeping in and out

from dream to wake

 

a casting pall

over day and night

 

carved deep into spaces of time

that seem to mean so much more

 

than what can be contained

by just a memory.

*

gold and gray

 

mask upon mask

 

a fear so deep

hope becomes lost

 

until you lean in, reach thru,

touch its surface

 

and watch

as it ripples and fades

into the stillness and silence

 

of the infinity within.

*

strange geometry

 

formless within the structure

of permanent flux

 

expansion dictates boundlessness

and limitations

 

atoms peacefully disturbed

rearrange the order of chaos

 

provocation tampers with inner weather

while all positions remain relative

 

and with nothing in our control

but reaction and response

 

the wisest choice is always the latter

but hardly ever the easiest.

*

source code

 

edges of edges

 

covers pulled

curtains burning

 

no reveal but what

has always been

 

bones and stardust

in the mind of matter

 

wrapped around a heart

searching for so much more.

*

conscious contact

 

waves braced for the crashing shore

 

nothing higher

than a power unknown, unnamed

 

unbecoming that which spat us out

damn near ground to a pulp

 

scouring the soul

for that one last light

 

to see the darkness

for the very first time

 

from the other side.

***

“Desperation is the raw material

of drastic change. Only those who can

leave behind everything they have ever

believed in can hope to escape.”

  • William S. Burroughs

the sunday times 6.23.19

as we are

 

a vantage unique

from this turret of bone

upon a scaffold of the same

 

an easily compromised structure

housing the delicacies of perception

and emotional resonance

 

knowing nothing but what we know

from how we see it

 

filtered thru the imprint

of our experience

 

colored by preconception

only understood in relation to

everything that has come before;

 

our innocence lost

the moment we opened

our eyes.

*

slowly set alight

 

empty vessels

ripe for kindling

 

sails burned black

thru harbored ages

 

faster than nowhere returned

 

still the hammers of solitude

echo like clockwork

 

thru the hollow bones

of tired dreamers

 

turning tide

to shift the pull

 

everything becomes as it should

once we let go the heart to drown

 

and find out

we float.

*

a different kind of blue

 

the sensation of the sky

 

shining

dark

gray

or full of stars

 

nothing between

no wall of self

 

undivided

 

the sprinkle or the storm

the weight or the worry

 

outside nothing

is nothing

 

inside everything

is everything

 

no escape is needed

to be free.

*

failed experiment

 

selective contradiction

sporadic acceptance

 

breaks of rank and tether

choice freed from the prison of thought

 

if only instinct

were not thwarted

in its infancy

 

and the heart

was left to flower

into the mind

 

as was the original plan.

***

“We need to sit on the rim

of the well of darkness

and fish for fallen light

with patience.”

  • Pablo Neruda

the sunday times 6.16.19

my heart goes out

 

back down to the ground

 

gone for the day

and back to the cave

 

a bit more hope shot away

nothing a few words can’t fix

 

soon night will fall

the blank page will beckon

 

for now

just a bit of silence

 

and a few more walls to ponder

 

alone

with my loneliness

at last.

*

fair game

 

still in love with

whatever there was

 

a hard hold to break

 

far from inception

nothing fits to take its place

 

the task now

to learn to be at peace

with the empty space

 

while the urgency

to fill it

subsides.

*

more light

 

removal begets revelation

 

breaking division

embracing contradiction

 

we are able to catch the wind

only when we allow ourselves to fall

 

still the hammers

echo like clockwork

 

as we struggle to comprehend

the unfathomable difference

 

between feeling like nothing

and knowing we are so much more

 

than this body

bound by this skin

in space

 

and by birth

and death

in time.

*

counts and measures

 

dosage relegated

to drops and glimpses

 

between longer periods

of bombardment and barrage;

 

keep a safe space within

at all times

 

it’s

the

only

way

out.

***

“Maybe when something stops

something lost in us can finally be heard.”

  • Jack Gilbert