i am a cricket in the grass

i am the mosquito in your ear

i am a shit throwing monkey, so crass

i am headlights in the deer

supernova inferno blast

does the universe hear

past its own vastness

does it hear beyond its fear

gone is childhood

gone is "it's all good"

gone are the days of being small

adults were ten feet tall

gone are the carefree days, the blithe days

gone is the inner wall

gone are the people pleasing days, the steeple greasing days

gone is my youthful breeze, my passive steeze

the insecurity, it's me it's me it's me

no responsibility

gone is robin hood

and sherwood

gone is childhood

gone are the days of being good, but no good

gone are the days when i should

gone is my towel with the hood

gone is childhood

it's all gone

it left in my breath

i exhaled a river of it

and the memories, the beliefs, attachments, dreams, expectations, manifestations, conglomerations, childhood sophistications

they washed away

as i breathed in and out

i grieved with and without

gone is childhood

gone is my inner wall

it protected me, it did its job

i thank it, and let it go

stones are crumbling

ego is grumbling

"it's good to hold on

tightly, you should"

gone is childhood

gone is being the best naturally

gone are days walking shamefully

fearing painfully

gone is thinking mom and dad perfect

gone is shrinking at every bad defect

gone are fuzzy stickers, candy lickers

lip smackin, snickers snackin, snap cracklin, lego stackin

it's all gone

i ate it up

here i stand as a man

knowing more, knowing less

i know it's not all good

gone is childhood

ode to words

"A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for illusion is deep."
- Saul Bellow

words, i am full of words, bursting forth with gregariousness, hiding back with coldness. words spill out of me in waves, like those crashing at beach, those spilling into my eyes. deep dark words, light and airy words, magical fairy words, liquidy words and diddly words. las palabras rocian de la alma. what am i saying, gotta watch my words. what am i playing, gotta twist my words. what am i slaying, cleancutting words. words are for nerds, but nerds aren't forwards. what am i thinking, in symbols and words, feelings and dreams. words are my castle and my prison. shining in waves through a prism. izzle my dizzle this cataclysm, this atavism, this radacism.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awarenes comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- Rumi

My barn having burned to the ground, I can now see the moon.

—Masahide

wearily i walk this wilted way
merrily i mock my mellifluousness
scarily i sneak through smuggled silhouettes
drearily i dowse this devilish drug
barely i build a billowing business
tearfully ticking the time and tracks
crassly kicking crafty concoctions
brashly barging butterflies
trashy tawny tearjerkers
lashing lamentable largeness
aridly alliterating acrimoniously

what can i sell you
buy some solar, buy my soul
what can i tell you
just don't buy my control

just a white boy

world full of hate
makes me sick, where is it from
within, within me

i'm just a white boy
opportunities for me
fall from fucking trees

i'm just a white boy
watch out, don't push me too hard
i'll shatter like glass

i'm just a white boy
in a world of green, blue, brown
i want more color

i'm just a white boy
give me power to corrupt
that's what i do best

i'm just a white boy
work for a black president
justice served, i'm blessed

i'm just a white boy
living in a stolen land
far from stolen home

light and dark

i am a tree that lives boundaries, i am a stick that pokes in the ground, i am a bee that flies joyfully, i am the ice and thunder cracking sound. i define the undefinable, i find myself in peaks and lulls, i am constantly refinable, like the finest diamond coal, the pressure mounts and mounts and then shazam! i shine in a new way. this day i say i may replay the way i feel delay the time to kneel today to kneel i may create this day i want this way i daunt this vision that haunts me to this day, this vision of perfect imperfect beauty, this vision of courageous ferocity, joyful luminosity, fearful monstrosity, sad calamity, mad insanity, shameful vanity. i shake in my power; i wake to this hour; i make love in the shower; i break and i brake; i take more than i give; i give more than i take; i hate more than i want; i flaunt more than i tell; i'm fucked more than i'm well. but what's the point? i ask. what's the point to be well and no more? i swell, i cannot help it, but i qwell my power, hoping one day i will be more normal and stable and normally able. no, fuck no! i am fucked. fucked up and fucked down. yes i am weird, a little crazy, a little lazy, but i got something! i got something. no more mister nice guy. maybe feisty guy. don't-know-what-to-think-of-him guy. shy spry guy. nerdy wordy guy. culty shmulty guy. all-over-the-place guy. nice try guy. one of a kind guy. that's my kind of a guy! within i'm in i spout about to shout about i spin herein delineate to state or brake find out the thick and thin about i'm out.