The business of life,
segmented needs
captured in a database.
exsistence as a record
tracked by those who want.
A tangible profit
enriching the empty,
The search for my profit,
occurs everytime the sun rises.

Something We All Have

Released into the bright sky
Soaring through the moment,
I look down upon the world below.
The smell of the air
Untouched by humanity
Reminds me of the innocent
Entrance into the world below.
Flying through the clouds
I can no longer see
What I once was.
Gliding in the wind,
My graceful approach
Is admired by those
Who don’t have wings.
But no one is there to watch me.

One Truth

A history of the world
reproduced in each individual.
The rise and fall
penetrating the boredom
of our organic limits.
A caged bird will be set free
only to be caged again.
Singing gleefully,
I walk down the path
with the one truth.

Again

A heavy weight
upon the eyes.
The tired cheeks
ready to rest.
Sobering up
from the buzz of the new.
The heavy warmth
bearing down on the body.
The moon will end a life,
The sunrise will create one.

afterbirth

a smile
upon birth.
reaching for freedom
again and again.
Cut of the chord
and scarred for life.
The future generation
of the same organism
thrilled to be socialized,
again.

A walk in the woods

A whistle
calling my eyes
to something I did not know
was there.
A sight standing still,
inquisitive.
I was invited in
to heaven.
For a moment
I was at peace,
an organic moment that
will live forever.

Guess What?

I stand on a mountain
damaged by frost,
a slight warmth
bearing down on my soul.
The clouds are clearing,
a signal for the chattering
optomism to echo through the trees.
It was a hard climb
that one day may be repeated
One day,
But not today.

My Writing

A temporary effect
Recorded
By a permanent
Combination of
1 and 0.
The meaning,
Owned by the world,
Is really owned by the moment.
The passing snapshot
Fondly remembered
And painfully relived
Is a part of
Everyone.

I hesitate to publish this

The newborn cries,
Because it doesn’t know better.
I cry,
But I do know better.
No-one sees
My broken down body
Lying in the ditch.
Should I accept
Castration by the eyes
and a gospel
That will lead
to hell?

Attack

Talent,
fed by decomposition
produces an ending.
A leach crawling up the leg,
A maggot eating rotten flesh,
Instincts
that push us onward,
to the inevitability
of things.

A Reminder to Forget

A moment of weakness
In a world of weakness
Driven by thoughts
That are not our own.
I broke down.
The destruction of the sunrise,
Inevitable,
In its onward march
To be forgotten,
Then repeated.
All we need to do,
Is look up
And be blinded by the sun.

The Bulimics

The dark night
Destroyed the moon,
Running from the wind I arrive.
Sitting on the couch
With the infinite spaces
Between 0 and 1
Adding up to nothing,
We purge.
We’ve created no truth,
And accepted our disorder:
The unavoidable ending
Of everything,
And of nothing.