Shoes

Is it better to die trying,

what is the use in crying when the end

is the same for all.

The ebony awaits

our fates hang by a thread,

sacrificing the self

for our daily bread.

 

Life is not this

or that.

It is combat and an eye for an eye

will make you both blind,

then you find

no other choice but to

look inside.

Nothing can hide in the mind.

 

Silence is deafening to the addicts of noise;

Alone is always frightening,

solitude roars like thunder

illuminates like lightening.

Muscles tightening, knuckles whitening;

some cannot stand their own company.

 

Most would agree.

If you cannot stand you, why should we?

Without a trace of irony;

the ones who hate themselves the most

live their lives judgmentally.

While ultimately also very lonely.

 

The Tao belongs to no one.

The Tao belongs to everyone.

No two gaits are the same.

It is the crossroads.

It is the journey.

What is in a name, after all?

 

There is no one answer.

That is the key.

Change is constant,

manifesting destinies.

The universe communicates in parentheses.

Driven by circumstance

and tendencies;

Searching to destroy percieved enemies.

Begging for a remedy

for the vengeance against the soul.

 

There is no control.

Let that go.

Never was and so;

waiting for Godot was the show

and you are the star.

 

Judge not lest…

For heaven’s sake.

Mistakes are ours, each to make.

Some live in dreams;

others when awake.

Your comfort is someone’s burning stake.

This is what it means

to say every path is different.

 

 

Static

The worst has happened.
Everything you deserve,
as you swerve
into the sea.
Success in excess.
Drowning in infamy.
What can be done when one
accomplishes through addiction.
To suffer an affliction
that so rightly served others.
Do they know.
Do they care.
Some just want their share
or more than you will
ever.
So they tap the vein dry
like a junkie addict.
Leaving behind only static.

Integrity.

Wandering from room to room like a ghost.

Never a guest.

Never a host.

As grey as an elephant

as loud as a mouse door to door

at every house.

No one can hear you.

They say it’s the wind.

No one can see you.

How the light bends to create you.

City to city you roam,

never finding home,

just enough to sustain

what the journey will contain.

Meandering through countries and cultures

recognizing vultures as universal as

the planets.

Across every continent you ramble

as you begin to understand

the Tower of Babel,

and how words create the brambles we men are mired in.

The earth in the heavens,

ought know by now,

Doing, not saying; is how.

Ahem.

You have to do what you have to do,

that’s what everyone says.

Would they say still,

if they knew everything you had to do?

The torture you went through,

just so they would approve

and deem your effort worthy

of their expectations?

What if your silent demands

and judgments and dismissals,

drove someone between addictions

and remisssions,

all because they wanted to please

the impossible

conditions for your favor?

Would it matter?

Even an unspoken thought can wound

someone who loves you.

The difference is one knows this;

yet is considered flawed for the perception.

Not like you does not equal,

not

as

good

as you.

We have the power to kill others

with our intolerance.

If someone loves you,

they care what you think,

be careful of your thoughts.

They say more about you,

than anyone

you will

ever judge.

Amen.

 

 

Numb

What is this

I have become

Numb.

And invisible to myself,

I cry for half a minute then

roll a cigarette and forget it.

To forget, I apologize if I misspoke

when I said all those broken words

and intentions

I meant every invitation I never uttered.

Don’t you hear every thing I think?

On the brink and atop my toes,

the shore below beckons with craggy rocks

at times more tantalizing than

the battle at the mountain cliff top.

Martyrdom is so tempting,

a way of taking advantage of the confidence

of blind followers.

Kamikazii and suicide bombers take the easy way out.

That is not a warrior’s way.

Stay.

Fight that shit out to the very fucking end,

if the message you want to send is about

perserverance,

determination,

and conquering the wind.

Wake up the world,

instead of chasing sleep,

and then,

maybe even you

will awaken again.