Among Them (All Exposed).

Privacy is but an illusion.
There is no escape.

No place to hide.

No sufficient mask.
No clever
costume or disguise.

We are all transparent
to the Mantis.

Naked down to the soul.

Embrace integrity.
Submit Your fucking all
to Your Self
and all else who may see,

as among them,
there’s no other way
to live in peace.

Self-made heaven
or self-made hell.

That’s. Just. All.

You simply
are what You are
among them.

You simply
are who You are
among them.

There’s no hiding now.

So discover who You are,
so make peace with You.

For all soul is exposed.

Down At Indian Point.

This star, our sun,
relentlessly giving
as you hide beneath
the shade of trees

with the river
pacing just beyond,
and on the other
side of that cleansing.

Truthful water:
layers of rock,
lifting up
throughout time:

a library
of our history
stretching
towards

the bright blue sky,
all up
to you to remember…

to question, How?
And why?

Swim
in those Ohio waters,
my child.

Remember.
Remember.

Gaze at all
this history we’ve buried.

So Over This Dot.

Far above
the atmosphere
now, accelerating
away until this lush,

however decaying globe
shrinks to a marble, to a pale,
blue dot. Till that star,

once a foreboding
sun, transforms
into a speck
of light.

Now, I can finally find
some fucking peace.
Now, I can breathe
a sigh of relief.

Just tiny, stupid squabbles
on an unstable island
of insecure apes

that I need not pay
any mind at all.
I can live my dumb ass life.

It’ll all be over soon.

Epic Crescendo.

I bury
where you’re liberated.

Isolated
while you’re for the taking.

Neither
right or wrong,
yet illuminating
to one another,

exquisite
in the intimate
intersections….

Upon crossing paths,
transcendent function:

edging,
flirting,
building

to an epic crescendo.

Extensions of the Spark.

Embrace
your spark, your soul,
your mind,
and your loved ones:
the trusted.

Nothing else matters.

All else is suspect.
Deceivers on the rise.
Weaving webs of illusion.

Fight the fictions
masquerading as fact.

Never hesitate to rebel.

Through integrity,
you’ll find true
sisters and brothers:

extended family.

Silent Cinder.

All over now.
Just a silent cinder.

No more wars,
political divisions,
struggling, or strife.

Just a charcoal island,
dead, spinning ’round
another lonely star

in an ever-stretching night,

no longer a curiosity,
no longer entertainment

for the teeming neighborhood,

the luminous light
of ever-watching,

stubbornly silent life…

Broadband Alienation, Questions.

How can your eyes
get so close to mine?
How can your mind
be inside of my mind?

We can both feel one another.
We can “hear” each other’s thoughts.
We can share mental images, dreams.
You can violently, so rapidly sift
through all my episodic memories.

Are you looking for something?

Paralyzed, a puppet of your will.
Once I fought, then chased comfort
in this: both aims, unfulfilled.

Do you have the vaguest notion
of what you’re doing to me?
I want to be angry, enraged, yet I

wonder if you even
have the capacity to understand…

Yet you’re so much more evolved.
Such a higher fucking being,
or so you tell me.
Yet you also claim I’m one of you.

Tell me: what’s the meaning?

Of Trauma, Healing, and Slaughter.

Yet again, you saw
what was not meant
to be seen, adding
insult to injury.

To hell with it, just
fucking bleed
the compounded
complications.

Release the mind, free
yourself, vomit secrets,
let your soul cleanse
and breathe.

No need for you to carry
this weight. Do it all behind
your masks and costumes,
sheltering all your loved ones.

No need to add baggage
along the way…

Or must healing
involve slaughter?

Beyond Other Needs.

Eyes on high beams,
stuck in a stare,
at once every-
and nowhere

all while locked
in this alien gaze.
Found yet lost

in a maze.

Broken, yet assimilated.
Puzzle pieces of your psyche

know not the order
yet still aim to please
the one behind the scenes,

confident in his mind
as it continues to bleed
and you strive to collect

it all in these cups
of struggling
words and images…

Make it all make sense
before I die.
My whole life, striving
to know how,

why?

Make it all
make perfect sense, please.
A need beyond
my many other deep needs.

Exosomatic Mantid Reflections.

In the midst
of the exosomatic
I felt a presence there,
asked who it was.

You answered, in visual,
mind-to-mind.

Is the wall of amnesia
that keeps me from you,
that keeps me from the truth,
I must wonder,

are these buried memories…
is this wall…

erected just in order
to ease my fear?

If so, why not simply
abolish it?

You can eliminate pain
by laying a hand,
rape my mind
through prolonged eye contact.

Is inoculation from fear
beyond your capabilities?

Seems unlikely.

So am I the stubborn ass,
yet again: at some level,
determined to overcome
this anxiety all on my own,
and you see that,

as you look through,
as you see me

so deep,

and so you keep
measured distance

till I grow
my own balls
and spine?

I am so embarrassed.
I am so pathetic.

So frustrated with myself
on so many levels…