Sentenced

I lost a place to stand on.

Imbalanced like a halm.

Tortured maiming beliefs threaten.

Diplomacy became truth.

Senseless conspiracies,

honesty like putty,

rule by force,

power-rush toxicity,

deities of greed and gain,

observed by AI,

judged by the blind,

sentenced by all,

executed by myself,

falling

towards nothing

clueless and lost

Day of Dismay

A day…

like watered down milk…

– indifferently choreographed between white and grey

– tasting like soup with too much thickener and too little salt scooped from a burned pot

– conducted by a metronome seesaw clock stuck on one hour for half the day,

and then suddenly nothing happens, again, and it’s evening

 

A day…

of night aeons and darkness’s conquests and shadowy ghosts infesting my mind

– preserving its light in a heart-locket necklace in memoriam

– where Nothing sticks like clueless glitter lost on my forehead

– when angels were sought and found only in thought but never caught

– of skulls and crossbones destabilising sanity with orchestral irrationality

 

A day…

of X-rays beaming through my skeleton ignoring my transient flesh in their own celebration of reflection…

– where demons dismember my heart and grill the tendrils of my feelings

– of ego-tripping maniacs grinding me to dust with their mortar and pestle rhetoric

– when my ashes become the spice of the devil’s lust,

–  when ‘burn his soul’ is chanted by the karmic choir at the tortured gates of reincarnation,

and the cosmic eraser is bigger than any of my dreams

 

A day where…

Angst is the fire and defiance the air…

– blood is the drug knocked back with a double shot of death

– the soil that I stand on cries louder than hell pronged on a pitchfork

– I am misplaced like a bee on the sea

– I am like a butterfly squashed in the cooler grill of an abandoned racing car

 

A day…

that none of us asked to be part of…

because it perforates and slices with its shrapnel,

it blinds and dumbs the mind with chaos,

it breaks every ethic and moral and belief,

fatally demanding life and remuneration through recurring vengeance,

this day of the feasting vultures of dismay

uncentered

Cloudman why are you waving at me?

Is there something I don’t see?

cloudman

I am nothing

I am clueless

I am lost

 

No cheque in the post

Fruitless attempts to summit my life, oh yes

Contempt with insanity’s grin

 

Decades have rolled on

Overgrown now the paths I once ventured

Blinded and stuck on some, —  far too long

Sometimes it really feels that I’m done

 

Now, time is called the ‘aftermath’

That little left should be made to last

Create the antecedent of tomorrow

Leave out today’s horror,

relegate that to the past

 

Nothing: is all that matters

Clueless: the more the better

Lost: is the prize not the cost

 

Echoing passage to the future

I lay out there drifting weightlessly
 somewhere in empty space
 surrounded by the darkness of the universe
Floating on nothing
Lost in nothing
I and my thoughts

Unimaginably alone, — solely
Unsad, content, clueless

Too distant even to the nearest star
Immersed in timelessness
About 1:53 am in the feel

The past an ashen memory
No smoldering feelings

I see my future
 winding through an echoing passage
 tiled with absorbing pictures turned into movies
They distract consistently
I am confronted with a view at the end 
A lookout point into future space,
 unlike anything I could ever conceive
Visible is an indeterminately gigantic, 
 colorful, spoked wheel of dimensions

At the hub,
 where all dimensions meet:
 the bright center of fertility
The source of anything,
 known also as nothing
Close together here
 unfathomably far apart further out

It is all so clear now:
 In order to keep on floating, I must stay lost
 and I must stay in a state of not-knowingness
That is pure freedom,
 unbound from existence
My only way back to source

From this virgin source of nothing
 I can follow any spoke leading to any dimension
Each dimension is another universe
Probably entirely unimaginable from our reality
As I engage thus
 I become un-lost in my new knowingness
Now I am bound again

I don't drift towards a new future
I am the new future 
 ...soon to become the newest past
 and be lost and clueless once more

Drifting,
 floating,
 clueless,
 lost in nothing

Towards a new future

make it real

As if something touches me, it's how I feel
There's nothing I can see –

A week ago my life aligned, 
 I penetrated a wish of mine
 A willful effort gave it life
 carved from my dreams to rise

Perfumed like rainbow candy is the air,
 my nostrils seek the whispering wind 
 Like spumy foam of rose and honey my thinking thinks –
 Effervescent, present ever this affair 
 
My spirit lifts and floats away,
 unconfined this day
 
On the brink of real and magic
 my mind dwells,
 fluttering its wings to a broomstick's spell 
 Passion-power, imagination,
 mojo fuelled with elation,
 fondness for the sky,
 I am on the fly!

The wheel then turned
 Today-o'clock is present time
 Loud rings my chime again
 proclaiming: another wish affirmed

Today is real 
 as true as now,
 the pain I feel,
 and what I miss
 and what I see
 and consciously allow
 
This very wakeful moment
 a torch into my memory shines
 Archive of the past, 
 like an empty bottle reminding me of wine
 Sweet though it was, bubbly and alive,
 that flight has landed, – now I drive

Part of this moment
 in the future rests,
 inspired by the past
 It visualized and learned
 Towards the light it yearns,
 then takes to flight once more,
 leading to my heaven's door
 
T'is not the last time
 that I'm flying higher than the stars
 Climbing, reaching further and afar
 Sending rhyme and prayer to the lofty shrine
 When I'm flying, paradise is mine

Something touches me, it's what I feel
There's something I can see – 
I think I'll make it real