pink-faced and green
setting out to stand out
building on a foundation
of nostalgic americana
writing these words
even I find hard to believe
every flaccid god
every self that lies inside
naked to you
not for money
not for fame
but for reason
to tell you secrets
of an unfathomable chasm
that exists somewhere
beyond your reach

choking on
the words
choking on
your perfume
choking on
the memories
now dying
now fading
buried down
into darkness
I choke
I choke
you leave
everything forever

as I sit
and wait
for what hell
is coming
the nostalgia
from yesterdays
paints the future
shades of bleak
and now
in my death
realizing everything
is behind me
I sit and wait
and wonder
what is next

false art of the world
ornate symbols of nothing
emotionless beauty
surrounded by imaginary pain
killing creativity for cash
for an audience of people
who are worse that you are

experiments with meditation; january 5, 2012

floating over the people
like jesus ascending
invisible to the world
searching for a second god
to plant my fears

go forth with unstained cheeks
disregard the monuments
to aged, stale dogma
find another divine
to replace yourself

a painting
of a young girl
cannot capture
her raging youth
or unbound passions
the innocent strokes
that create her
do not represent
her pure heart
and loving nature
of her smile

they are false
artists are liars
who destroy the truth
in hopes of
building it again