Villanelle in Vertigo

What are the most important thoughts to commit to page if I think I may be dying? 

What sentiments should I deliver to the ones that I hold dear?

Expressing my love as conscious thoughts go dim; you can bet that I'll die trying

There's pain but not as much as I would expect, quite obtunded, and no crying

But I know I'm definitely not myself, and that's filling me with fear,

What are the most important thoughts to commit to page if I think I may be dying?

My mind is fuzzy, I'm weighted down, movement is all--process applying,

It took every ounce of effort to dim sudden tinnitus in each ear,

Expressing my love as conscious thoughts go dim; you can bet that I'll die trying

What does an aneurysm feel like leading up? I feel like all my nerves are frying,

And as if my conscious self is somehow aware that my cognition is soon to veer,

What are the most important thoughts to commit to page if I think I may be dying?

Remember not to bury me, this carnal shell is a cage I'm always prying,

And that the truest self you'd call my soul is a foreign stranger here,

Expressing my love as conscious thoughts go dim;

you can bet that I'll die trying,

Try not to judge too harshly a life that was as serene as terrifying,

And my belief that love is truly Life's great frontier,

What are the most important thoughts to commit to page if I think I may be dying?

Expressing my love as conscious thoughts go dim; you can bet that I'll die trying. 

The Word is Chron

You'll someday die inside the deadlines

With final thoughts of longing for

Those magic unplanned moments 

You cannot accrue or store

Perish in the planning

The time is over, chances gone

Memoirs unwritten– songs unsung

Penciled in for later, with all the dreams undrawn

The Impossible Text

What beautiful and terrible elation it is to remember the birth of the star from which all of your past and future forms through the æons have coalesced. The sorrow of a universe that expands into a great nothingness, spreading itself further and further from anything else and becoming a reluctant defacto God to its constituents. Committing this great and painful act out of the deepest, most beautiful, reverential love for the act of creation and for that which is created. There is no utility in such a revelation, no insight that can be gleaned into a greater good or purpose. No serenity or peace or even fear. It is utterly useless in this superficial prison of existence and yet it is everything I am. To live with a gift that yields neither salvation or destruction. Useless information. 

Paraclete

I can tell you this of God—

It is Old, Old, Old,

Older than the best of us could ever hope to fathom

In no small part due to God's purposeful obfuscation 

That set an arbitrary limit

On the ideas we could conceive 

And let me tell you this of antiquated ancients—

Things so Old, Old, Old,

They skirt by their mistakes, espousing wisdom,

Telling anyone and everyone why things must be this way

To avoid the weight of abject failures

To face themselves and grieve

Jesus wept. 

Of all the fatal frames that haunt me

In my restless dreams

You cut deeper than the sirens 

That hail the shadow king

Ready to receive the wisdom 

Of the birds without a voice

Unloading every precious bullet 

If given no other choice

Taste a bit of death by daylight

A beacon burns the evil within

Umbrellas spin in gyromancy

To the Azoth's gracious sin

Those Phucking Phoenicians

Dancing is a deceptive art

A lie contorted into hypnotic spell

Implying some meaning or hope of controlling 

This haphazard physical shell

Artwork falls somewhere amidst the ground in the middle

Glimmers of truth somewhere deep and gestalt

With eyes that search and scrutinize blindly

The Carpenter's Tools whom the fault is with not

But then there is the written word

The abstraction birthed Gʔd in full form

A selection of symbols relying on context

Eusocial characters sent into swarm 

Wade

Do you remember the first one written about you? 

There was a depth underneath I could tell,

But I warned that the lack of pain in its content,

Was a signal of oncoming hell?

I'm glad you held together as you fell 

I'm glad you held together as you fell 

Habitual Humanity

You don't have to say what it is

We both know what it is

And we try instead to think it out

How it came to be about

Asking pointless how's

and where's

and when's 

and why's

And Myers-Briggs

And starry skies

And profound words when someone dies

And seeing soul-like substance in one's eyes

I know how to call a spade, a spade

But I can see a spade

For more than why it was made

And with the cards it was dealt-

I get the ones that it played 

We're both excusing the knife-

When we're cut from the blade

This endless cycle

denies all our pleasures 

Surmounts all the guilt

Glinting off hoardes of treasures 

Behaviors that show some predilection

Alleles and genes that favor some manic addiction 

Are just tools of the trade- 

Systems of our perdition 

Refusing to fade 

I will break this tradition 

Masc

Aimless pent-up rage

Falters to depression 

Dopamine engaged 

In blinding white aggression 

Burning out in flames

Burning out in sheer obsession

These feelings come in waves

Ignorant of any lesson 

You're a Pisces, aren't you?

Till the stars fall from the sky

Till the stars fall from the sky

You will be in my thoughts even after I die

Till the return of the abyss 

Till the return of the abyss 

We'll never erase the scars on our hearts made from each other's nitrogen kiss. 

Tybouts Corner

Pools and pools and pools of poison

Hundreds of thousands of pounds

Smoking and scorching and squelching and steaming

As they etch into the grounds

Piles and piles and piles of money

Made by men whose souls had died

Willing to glisten the wells below here

With toluene,

xylene,

insect killer, 

wafts of swaths of vinyl chloride 

Years and years and years of distance 

Making all the details tough to recall 

A meager fence the only warning

Of the biopersistence that encroaches its thrall 

ÆONS

I have always hated that trite expression "before time immemorial," 

For in the eyes of things like you and I we see the feeble youth of Time

If they better understood it would be "before space incorporeal," 

Their sheer perspective sloppiness- like restoration done with new cement instead of mortaring with lime

To Gabriel

Oh brethren angel, of my kind, who signs the end of things to come,

Whose horn harkens as His harbinger, but does not aid the onslught's drum,

A name that means the messenger— with a head and body eager to serve,

Take heed from the former cupbearer who has lost his edge and nerve,

Protect your heart, at least a little, if you believe you're simply not the best,

Because in due time this life will change the way you see yourself, the way you speak, the way you're dressed,

Stay and play and live a little and most of all have fun,

But take note now that it will never reach the day you are the one,

I mean no malice by this, I who once was in your spot, 

And voices warned me too back then— until I forcibly forgot,

I have nothing left to gloat over, no assertion that I'm better off today, 

From when my heart was smashed so thoroughly that I quickly lost my way,

Don't put up with the deciet as a way to pay your dues,

Or someday you'll be writing words of warning to the one who fills your shoes 

Delirious Repetition

You enter my life in such a physical way- how can it be that I love you so much? 

How can chaos rest its entropy in such stateliness and ord?

Though it all goes gray when you're away- it reignites at the thought of your touch

 

At first I feared this fantasy was nothing more than heartbreak's crutch

But the sexual excitement is itself a lethal sword,

You enter my life in such a physical way- how can it be that I love you so much?

As I teeter back and forth again, each motion softens the strength of my clutch,

My body longs to linger next to you, moves about on its sultry accord,

Though it all goes gray when you're away- it reignites at the thought of your touch,

Always blending all the boundaries; here I quell my urges to mar and to smutch,

Because you're beautiful in spite of me something so worthy of being loved and adored

You enter my life in such a physical way- how can it be that I love you so much?

The indistinguishable architecture- are the remnants here Roman or Dutch?

It fascinates me either way- that prowess inside you have stored

Though it all goes gray when you're away- it reignites at the thought of your touch

Lacking the usual embittering agents- where are the oxidizers and kutch?

How can a man of such deep piety lead me to thoughts so untoward?

You enter my life in such a physical way- how can it be that I love you so much?

Though it all goes gray when you're away- it reignites at the thought of your touch

Dreamer

Holding onto him through bouts of fear and murmurs in his sleep

As he fights against some ancient evils in his lucid state of dreams

Unable to express the gratitude of the advantage in his fight

Because the waking world brings him back to his forgotten, forlorn ways

Trying to convey, in his cryptic vexing way, the man inside who knows HaShem,

Who tasted the world before the flood- as the fallen Nephilim 

Jealous

The joke that I'm a crazy bitch is just my way to own it

Owning the embarrassment of my ugly jealous side

But this time is different— I have it all out in the open

I'm standing here without the comfort of my adroitly-made façade

And speaking of the jealously I'd so much rather hide

I want it to go well for you 

For you to finally pierce that depth 

To confirm your slight suspicions that it never really left

But it sits so bitter in my mouth 

You'll give your attention undivided 

On the off-chance it'll do some good 

Unlike the last time that you tried it 

Please don't think I'm such a man who wouldn't want to share 

I love you for that heart of yours' that shows how deep it is you care

And yes my own damnation lies in conceding out of fear

And allowing you to give so freely what I've been asking for all year 

Views

There's a different way

of seeing things 

compared to where I was before

where stalwart standing centuries 

took pride

in all they could endure

Not here

there's no old growth in the forests

all of this land was submerged

 in the marshes

only through growing

and building up terra

Did they become a landscape

somewhat less harsh

here is a place 

where innovation is law

that governs the landscape 

albeit loosely 

amongst warehouse MegaChurches

and unscrupulous corporations 

and suburban neighborhoods 

rife with refinery fumes 

and toxic landfills 

here is place where things really can change 

saturated with mutagenic 

possibility 

Nothing Passionate

Already grounded

You let physical pain 

Grind you

Till you're exhausted 

Apathetic 

Grounded and ground

Can't hear the calls of possibility because you've shuttered out the sound 

Hellbent on mundane order— far too narrow is a the locus,

If you only fixate on the saffron you can't appreciate the crocus

And the Muses will not come to those who brush them off so they can focus