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Thursday, December 19, 2013

intrepid stratagem

Ace of asphyxiated souls.
King of ominous silhouettes.
Queen of condemned caveats.
Jack of succedaneous hearts.
Joker of riotous whisperings.

One-eyed Jack.
          He has seen too much.
The Black Lady.
          The mother of all carnage.
Suicide King.
          Never lost his innocent soul.
Laughing Boy.
          A head full of nonsense.
Flower Queen.
          Darkness eludes her quiet heart.
The Man with the Axe.
          More powerful than he knows.
Cardinal of Death.
          Hurts the ones he loves.

Am I the player or the played?
Wild presumptions are easily made.
I am the proteus one whom the game knows well.
My swollen heart has no place to dwell.
Hearts are fragile records; played and broken.
Forever listening to the words rarely spoken.
My mind is a nomad wandering in the desert daylight.
Minds are naive prey caught in plain sight.
Trusting the charm and beauty of their malevolent predator.
Hearts and minds should stay in the shadow of their protector.

Monday, June 17, 2013

the void

under the bed
in the attic
hiding in the basement
wherever the dark
demonic titillation
born without salvation

living in nightmares
patiently follows
into the shadows
devouring souls
attacking in secret
raping broken hearts

gagged and bound
branded for life
feeding on swollen minds
blinded by fire
singed by tears
eyes yearning for light

mercy withheld
justice fails
ritualistic death ensues
pupils dilated
no more hope
one last breath goes through

monsters and heroes
demons and angels
criminals and victims
dark souls rejoice
broken reflections
no light nor dark
can fill...
nor feel...
the void

Monday, May 27, 2013

in our streets


turning tables
lies and fables
life of labels

out of sight
where's the light
fight or flight

silly fag
stupid hag
make'm gag
body bag

hate love
God above
hand in glove

nasty pig
girly wig
fruity fig
zag zig

stand up
fight back
lights on
now attack

wake up
right now
loud shout
get out

ring alarms
stop harm
hands and feet
no defeat

guns and knives
stay alive
battle on
before you're gone

kill the beast
don't let'em eat
make'm starve
at your feet

shots fired
fuckin' liars
no peace
make war
look around
at the whores
out of sight
out of mind
start the fight
it's time

femme dykes
drag queens
butch boys
cry saline
twinks trans
bears cubs
dirty love

in our streets
every night
gonna die
if we run
face facts
sissy gun
no fun

in our streets
every day
gotta live
they'll pay
stand up
stand tall
don't run
don't fall
throw bricks

get out of the box

standing in my room
looking at the disaster
stacks of wasted yesterdays
saved up for tomorrow
for a fleeting moment
I cried and died
no, I only wished
yes, I looked around
wishing I were dead
porter hudson love me
life piled up easily
the music fades distantly
death becomes the option
closing eyes; holding breath
this too shall pass?
feeling alone yet surrounded
depression sadness; creative madness
should I kill myself?
used, wasted; useless waste
no one cares today
where is my hope?
lost in a fog
poison, drowning, drugs, knives
devices all around me
STOP! I say NO!
Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe
kiss the yesterdays good-bye
live tonight; live tomorrow
hope is a seed
nurture it; grow it
let go; let live
sing, dance, scream, laugh
do not give in
have hope and live!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

fractured dream

bridges built and burned
fire across the skies
emergency exits closed off
fully clothed naked lies

screaming spirits whisper truth
drunken soothsayers say much
eyes laden with blood
broken hands still touch

hope is barely breathing
serpent tongues smell fear
love needs more space
the end is here

go home says thirteen
you will be deceived
nine five seven nine
messages no longer received

mercy hides in daylight
keeping scorpions held back
justice holds many secrets
always ready to attack

storms wash nothing away
pain wrenches the heart
lightning strikes the soul
life has fallen apart

wind rushes and sings
soothing the wild ride
never ending tears stream
i have not died

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

song of sirens

cold as a kiss
at the moment of impact
scorching lips

the faint sting of being crushed
the intoxicating awakening of my shattered soul
drifting between
fiery walls of heaven
and the piercing whispers of purgatory

there is no time for imagination
reality has stripped us of our ability
to let go and be free
our liberty
at the intersection of this sphere
and tomorrow

silence engulfs us
as sirens
lure our senses
to our demise

sweet death
purification of the demons within

this moment

Thursday, February 21, 2013

perfect imperfection

I laid on my living-room floor pondering what questions I may be asked in my upcoming interview. One question popped into my mind: 

"What makes me special, unique? What will I bring to the position, in way of diversity?"

As I came up with some obvious answers, my eyes glanced over my hands. I started inspecting them and identifying scars, lines, and all matter of details.

Then, the thought came to me: 

"When I die and am resurrected, as I was taught in the Mormon Church, my body will be perfected. What if there are parts of me I do not want perfected? If God has granted me my agency, will I be able to choose how perfect my body will become?"

Think about this; we live all our life with our imperfections, scars, idiosyncrasies, and disabilities. How will we react to all of this being taken away in a twinkling of an eye?

When a person has a leg or arm amputated, they usually have phantom pains or feelings as their brain is still trying to process the loss. How will our brain process regaining what we did not have or lost in this life, when we are resurrected?

The question of whether I will be able to choose how my body changes is not as important, but it is a curiosity that has suddenly awaken within.

I believe that in this life, one of our trials is to overcome the limits of our finite physical body. Everything from imperfections, desires, lusts, scars, disabilities, and body image. The challenge is to allow our infinite soul to take the lead, so that whatever changes may come through resurrection has no affect or effect to our spiritual journey, that is eternal.

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
You have been caught Jey Walking!

Friday, January 18, 2013

inordinate thrills

Look! Here you are.
There! Behind the tears.
Look! Beyond the darkness.
There! Center stage; hidden.
Look! Mysterious, elusive illusions.
There! Alluding to the heart.
Look! The soul; free, but easily trapped.
There! Chained to your mind.
Look! The blood of imagined wounds.
There! Gagged, bound, and screaming.
Look! The laughter of insanity.
There! The comedy of errors.
Look! The chase of inordinate thrills.
There! Flickering lights as they melt.
Look! Statues forming from puddles.
There! In the neon abyss.
Look! Shadows withering away.

Friday, January 11, 2013

how did i get here?

"Sorrowing Old Man" (At Eternity's Gate) by Vincent van Gogh

White lights
Blank faces
White rooms
Blank places

Echoes in the hallway
Hollow voices in the air
Jagged reflections
Warped emotions everywhere

Sadness turns to madness
Crying, kicking, screaming, silence, endless staring
Mourning the death that should have been
I think of God His Son not sparing

River of life cuts its way towards death
Our navigator brings us to Hades, through chutes and ladders
Fire and brimstone awaits our arrival
Gnashing of teeth is mere endless, mindless chatter

Control is a commodity
Situation, Thoughts, Feelings, Behaviors
Cognitive therapy for emotions and actions
Optimistic change if we dare