with awareness paved against a vertical surface thoughts ablaze emotion's surface space becomes a kiln it is a burning furnace melting what I feel into focused purpose

Rampant anger knocking at your door Dormant stingrays awake from your sockets

Close your eyes now Stay with the liquor Why question a rock Shapen by a life of tectonic pressure

Breathe I know your heaving Breathe now Your senses are leaving

Nothing can prepare us for whats to come So we teach ourselves to laugh early on

But when the rain comes The deluge cannot be stopped When the rain comes The stingrays come with the tide

Breathe Internal heaving Breathe now The poison is leaving

We al want to be in a place of no judgment no violence no stress no fear no hate It could be right here

Let it go Once you release them You will see how they were part of your system

Puncturing the walls in you Puncturing the walls of your self-constructed prison.

Poetry shouldn’t be read In stead It should strike When you least expect So the dark parts of brain Can become its abode While the thinking mind Enters fight or flight mode

Poetry shouldn’t be read In stead It should be seen Pass trough your inner retina A geometric dream Using you as its vehicle Wanting to be free

Poetry shouldn’t be read In stead It should be rain Hammering a dense canopy under which you hide The drops seeping in Falling through the leaves A tingling on your skin

at times when feelings arise we radiate like a blast furnace heat and light fall from our skies in rays hit our inner surface

lets pretend we become green we grow flowers from our shoots now we shall remake these rays to maybe nourish our roots

I pass you A tetanic gesture At the sky So slow it looks static To the jittery human eye So solid it looks dead To those quick to die And realize that observing Takes place only by virtue Of things consummating Their existence at exactly the right pace

Summer impends Radiating her matter The last one fell graciously into a soft Fall. This is will be one that Wishes she was the only one, unknowingly wants to be winter Because she knows, those are harder to learn.

And now Im alone with The Voluntary Madness Sitting in a corner of the room Looking at me Blissful insanity Pouring out the speakers And she just talked over the music She just talked over the music And the insanity sat on me I was losing it I was loving it It sat on me In a repetitive motion Clogging my view With an even better one

The memory machine Makes a past feel like the past Makes a future feel like the future Makes the now, feel like a now Makes our movie play on the inside of my eyelids Faces of you And you And you And you

The monkey voice counting down and almost wanting to end it now Because starting it, means that it will end someday

I don’t want you to end Ever So the only cure must be to survive you So I will never end for you.

Maybe because it was the most honest thing you ever felt.

Maybe because you couldnt let the tears go while the fucking guitars were shredding your ears apart. The blastbeat was suffusing you with a stream of consciousness blotting out all reflection and leaving you with pure experience. While the vocalist was screaming our collective tragedy.

All that merged into a pit of loving controlled violence where you keep rediscovering that nothing makes sense in order for everything to make sense.

Ah yes metal. I will listen to it until I die.

We are swallowed with the sun in our eyes and the waves behind We are harrowed in the fading light of a dead god's eye

In the shadows living sacred life unready to die Beneath willows Roots nourishing our lost mankind

We are swallowed By the inner decline that we consider divine We are harrowed In a crusade against the benign

Those that can redeem us are the ones that we destroyed With the plastic demons That serve their flaccid lords

Deaf to their green whispers That tell us our swansong The deluge on the canopy Will break through before long

Long wooden arms They reached out to us but the embrace was never answered by us