questauthor:

going handheld as the sun sets we look around the room and see souls

souls treaded long throughout life

inhaled a lot of dust on the journey

fleeing fear towards a place with a bass kick thick

I’m a lost spirit 

a butterfly in the wind

but I’m not alone,

you ever see a flock of starlings dance?

those tiny birds moving in unison as though in trance

returning home to you again we see a true being free

of the injustice in the mind

imprisoned though divine

so in the beginning it has been said was the word

from which all things forth brought through

all ideas dreams inventions and schemes

the longest fraud lasting being that trap of time

seeing in a lot of my poetry  this theme of jail and freedom

bars of false starts and progress charts

bring the top down instead of climbing up the ladder

i’ve never cared for success and it’s never cared for me

awesome

i remain a truthful being in my individual liberty 

and I think we need order but I’m not sure how we should allow it to be

but Tolstoy says we should not be electing leaders lead us when they cannot represent us fully

and I find it’s helpful to remember the mental bisection is interpreted in different ways by different folks on different days

with different hopes and similar fears and dreams

to isolate a subsection of the mental realm is to violate the right to life in which exists the healthy hell realm we dwell

teenagers are confused and adults deny the truth that every being is changing constantly changing 

i look to children who know not of responsibility or survival to show me the authentic way to be judgmental of the world 

and that imagination’s ok. it’s the lucidity of the momentum that drives it through

back to a quickly paced and nuanced ruminated ruin 

 like the beach sand - rubbed down by it’s own condition

it meets the water under which the sandcrabs swim 

a bubble of air under the sea where we see the world flipped backwards different from the bubble of air surrounded by filmy water in the air

reflecting back a dance with a rainbow reflection clear

the past relies on the future and the future looks back to the past

and we wonder through our blunders why the present will never last us more than this moment in time

which is brief, it’s a forgotten dream in midst of sleeping demons remembering heaven from past lives 

and tortured minds like ours should give pause for mercy

but our tortured minds are thirsty and we drink the blood of the lesser creatures trouncing in mud

until the paradigm shifts, after all it’s twenty twelve, 

we can not know of our potential

only the remnants of our shell’s disregarded life. 

it crawls to a new home with a new meaning and reason why

new love new discoveries of new truth in new prophecies

and we look beyond the shore to explore the darkness, 

the stars illuminate 

and the fear turns to astonishment

and we’re shocked to see

heaven manifest in nature manifest in language manifest in you - find it’s home in me to be returned back horizontal through the chain

that is responsible for keeping me alive, here and optimistic

about a society whose heart has gone missing.