Friday, September 11, 2009

I Want You Pierced

Let's find a new place on the body to pierce.
Got all the parts covered that won't end you in a puddle of blood?
Let's try a vital organ next! How about one of your kidneys?
Then you can take the x-rays around, and show people how brave and unique you are.
How about your heart? Most people don't use them properly anyway.
Eventually all your organs will be made out of recyclable plastic. Use them up while they're real.
I like bold statements! Why not drive a nail through the back of your elbows.
Tattoo the hands of Jesus around them.
Everyone has there own unique stamp right? Something to help your mommy identify your body better, after they find you dead in the gutter, where I left you. I want to make you happy. I want you to be a what you want to be. Beautiful, timeless art. Something special and immortal.
Metal and holes.

August 5, 2008

Genetic Parasite

I don't remember the exact moment I knew I must separate myself from you;
I just stopped returning your calls...

You and I were just a dream. You passed some of your dreams to me through the spoken word. Side by side we dreamt of hell. Your hell and mine.
I thought your hell was all I could know. I thought that because your dream was of hell, and I only knew dreams through you; I must dream of hell.
And now I have separated from you, but nothing has changed. My dream is almost the same. I believed the dream you gave me so well, as I believed in you.
In trying to wake from this dream, I gave myself a new name. This name is what I want my dreams to be. But hell has followed me here.
It follows because it is all I know of dreams. I believed it more than I believed in God or love. Because what I learned of God and love was through your words. The same words that have cast a spell over my mind and blinded my vision with smoke.

This is a hard dream to awaken from.
It is the coma of my first life.
I stubble around in a fog, trying to find all the walls I must tear down to gain my freedom.
They are everywhere; and I built them without any windows or doors.
An endless maze of cemented walls with no entrance or exit in sight.
To find my way out I must wage a war against the parasite that dreams its hell into my mind, and feeds its body through my body.
I may never win, but a warrior is willing to fight to the death for his perceived freedom; and I will do the same.
I will search for my heaven here.
I will seek out God inside myself...

In my new dream, all of what I knew of you will be forgotten.
But I will always remember the death of you. The death of all your words and all your parasites.
I will always remember the time when I decided_____ to make Eden my new name.


Back to the Garden

There was something so pristine about that place. The planet did not have to revolve around a star.
The shorelines met the water without a sense of separation, and the people who walked naked on its beaches came; not to find God, but to be God.
In that place, I was fully awake. I didn't need others to describe their vision of who I was to me. I didn't need to defend or justify to my brothers, my right to live. I wanted to stay in the light, but the fruit was just as tempting. I wanted to know; what is God really? Is there a greater truth?
So I took a bite.... and the poison felt so good in my veins that I ate every piece of fruit I could steal from the branches. I fell to sleep under the tree, and when I woke up Paradise was gone. Everything I knew as truth had changed. I ran to the shoreline, and all I saw was a great and dark abyss. Thousands of years will pass as I sleep in this new hell. No one will have the power to wake me up, till I decide to change my birthright.

You're Ridiculous

A few cells shy of mental incompetence.
"A mediocre copy of another man's genius"
I look at you with your scroll of nonsense, and call you ridiculous.
I call you ridiculous, and smile while I do it.

The street lamps dim as I pass you in uncertain recognition.
Only your smell is familiar to me, the rest of you takes the shape of every other passerby.
The sun could not recover your full image.

You are chinuit de remuscari, and should beg daily for your attrition.
You use fustian clatter to disguise your weak resolve.
All this lost time on every attempt; waisted... needful... redundant.

I look at my watch before I see you fade into darkness.
Five minutes..
the time it took me to realize you were no longer in my presence.

~May 19, 2008~