In an overwhelming crowd
Find yourself:
All around they sweat;
All around they breathe,
And heave, and struggle.
Feel your body sweat,
Feel it breathe, heave;
You struggle.

In a dark and lonely hall
The same you is found:
Bodies rush past,
No utterance, no acknowledgement;
As you rush past
Wordless,
Acknowledging nothing.

In a wind swept park,
There again:
Flies haunt you,
They buzz you
And you swat;
As the one you haunt
Swats you –
And you buzz.

On a moonlit night
You lose yourself:
All around is illusion;
All within disillusion;
All before is gone;
All to come’s been paid for,
As you sweat, you breathe,
Heave and struggle.

Cork of flesh
Holding back from within,
It wallows and rises
(The odor of guilt)
Reminding too strongly
As a flame and a flame
Engulf the cork,
The cork of flesh.
Decaying away;
And it seethes and
I loathe and it feels
As I move
Like a separate mass.

It is not I,
But it is mine:
This cork of flesh –
My cork of flesh.

Scheming minds,
Seeming ties
Only for your cork of flesh:
For false comfort
Which will last
A short time;
Not for you,
Or for another.
Why not be humbled?
Be so wise
All your lives
For another life.

It is not I,
But it is mine.
No cork of flesh;
Your cork of flesh!

For your comfort in the future
Now’s the time
To use your cork of flesh
For another, before the
Flame and the flame
Engulf the cork!
The cork of flesh!
Bottling the you:
Decaying away;
And it seethes and
I loathe and it feels
As I move
Like a separate mass!

It is not I –
But it is mine.
This cork of flesh:
My cork of flesh.
The corks of flesh
In which we hide . . .

He raised his sumptuous basilicas,
Forgot the living temple of the spirit itself.
Paid his homage to the Lord
As Romans, proud, revered a statue of Jupiter:
Seeking to bribe Heaven’s powers
With the size of material offerings.

He forgot the human heart,
Belittled the spirit of humanity,
Ignoring afflictions
Of those he was sent to serve.
Still blind to his folly,
On his death bed he waits for
A fantastic heaven, in which to enthrone
His criminal vanity, and his cruel laziness.

What a shock when he died
And there wasn’t the heaven!
What a shock when he died
And there wasn’t the heaven!
Only a reality –
He’d created his hell.

Now to answer for his folly,
His misguided use of institutional power.
Did he love and serve his people?
Or feed off their fear of the unknown?
Why did he need his building to find God?
What’s wrong? was He not there in his heart?

White, elated scream, he splits;
Devoid of all emotional pits.
Not trapped where he once thought he was,
Sometimes he cries; not at a loss.
His crying keeps him company;
His dying leads his sanity
To other levels before unfound,
Where other lost souls do abound.

What crime against this man was held?
Innocent victim of himself!
Just when it could have made some sense,
Thoughts of death interrupt his chance
To find a way to break the chains
Which torture and bind his brain.
I see the innocent victim lost,
Not having found an answer.

In a flash of rage his sanity breaks;
No more can he stand to feel the chafe
Of the chains which bind his lost soul
To a set of worthless material goals.
Though an answer he has not yet found,
He thinks it lies where lost souls abound.
In a flash of rage his sanity breaks!
His suicide was his biggest mistake.

Cold blank stare
Of a painting
I am faced with;
It flakes away,
It cracks, it peels.
It falls to the ground like snowflakes!
The snowflakes of your stare, so icy cold,
Rip into the heart but don’t take hold.
Do you hate me?
Do you love me?
Well that’s not fair!
You just sit and stare;
Shower me with cold snowflakes.

Do you sit and
Pluck the petals
From your flower?
I love him not:
We love him;
We love him not!

Your flower has run out!
What’s going on inside the stone heads?
Where did you find that hidden petal
When the performance was over?
The blizzard’s over!
With your hidden petal
You love me.
You love me.
The blizzard’s over,
You love me!

To a smile bewildered gaze,
To a sparkle in the eye,
What is your reaction?
Is there any reaction?
What about reaction?
Not snowflakes!
No snowflakes!

The painting fades
As I sit in my own elation.
We play for our own
Self-satisfaction.
Throw your snowflakes if you will:
They just melt
To water.
Water’s wet,
And wet dries.
It’s dry.
I’m dry.

Whisper and wail
The waves of the
Begotten race
Of Atlantean times;
Were you there?
Your mistake
Was made then
You illustrious fools;
Creating your own trap.
When will you learn?

Return and return
And again and again,
For you’ve gained
The privilege
To appease desires,
For I’m considerate you know!

To the terror of a gaze
From a frustrated man
Who was caught in his web:
A grasping trap with no way out.
Freaking a violent whim –
Turn head – you’re trapped:
No more beyond you haven’t reached!
Return again physical beast!

No more beyond
You have not reached:
By ignorance
You’ve gained the privilege
To appease desires,
For I’m considerate you know!

Try to reach your ne plus ultra.

Trying,
Trying,
So hard:
It will not spread easily;
Cold gaze to break through.

In one,
In one,
Out another.
Slash your ears
– They cannot hear –
Then listen from within.

Trying,
So hard;
Am I getting through?

What tribulation is suffered
By one who really knows
That entities exist who really don’t.

Creatures of and for this dimension only,
Time, space and patience unknown;
Ignoring all relation to another.

I know my patience, time and space,
But still must share this world
With those whose ignorance shall reign.

If they were One they’d be aware:
Futility redefined as pleasure.
Still I wonder why we left perfection.

Becoming trapped within the three:
Three bars in the window to eternity;
Bars unseen behind the curtain
Of fabric woven of fear – this material
Can be seen through after death,
But because it’s material, a Spirit
That’s ethereal cannot open it.

I know what’s there.
I know what’s behind it.
Do I dare?
Will the Light be too strong?
Do I really know how to open it?
Or is it dust if I’m wrong?
Still dust: I’m not wrong.