Sukha/Dukkha

Yehosuah in his life
heaven born before his time.
A spirit of ages
his second sight,
a soothsayer
translated by proselytes.
Great visions of
halcyon days,
stories unfold
of silk and gold,
honey and fish,
the human soul.
What we need
from the scripts we read,
a reason to give
a reason to love
a reason to live
in the world above.

The TV freaks
and propaganda geeks,
they tell me
apart from “i’m free”,
that benefit fraud
steals from us all,
but the powers steal more,
and for who?
One mans pockets
or military warships,
new powerful rockets
that cause all
the hardships?
I try to fight it
but lose the target.
Do we accept it?
Become a part of it?

The Vicious Psychic-Cycle TV

Accept the wind
that pisses on logic,
if you pass too close
you miss the target.
Non-verbal single fears,
the pieces pick themselves,
listen beyond the TV freaks
saying ‘the silent God is weak’.

Consumed grey embers
become the glowing pyre
the scale of it
I can only imagine.
Pass beyond
the delusion state,
in the old house
its taboo I hate.

The speed of plants
can bare reality,
they never tire
of the human kind.
Nature dissapointed
by my lack of freedom,
seeing things hidden
I never find.

The apparent atom
changed Einstein,
listening and nagging
at my own substance.
Unarmed ideas
occupy everyone,
found a good thing
for my hearts impulse.

Seeking power
however idly driven,
because release
communicates form.
Everything aging is
an Earthly catastrophe,
the opium solution
is human borne.

I salient corners
the humming string
is craving to save
its motionless wave.
A commical edge
to eons of abyss,
karma drains
at every risk.

Peoples understanding
compare shop faces,
desire fat shelves
not poignant places.
The people have heard,
the buddhist words,
merge to become
the alter-herd.

A body alone
for a TV death,
holding on and
vibrating the cage.
Factory lives
reject the escape,
the animals on tap
dying for space.

Dissolve or control
to rule the past.
I watched the Waco massacre
and I didn’t laugh.
Did they escape
the truth or reality?
Have we watched
normalised brutality?

Fear of thought
completes the false friend,
the exhausting hypocrisy
that never ends.
Miss Ape meets borrow,
in stories that veil.
Miss Ape turns hollow,
the present has failed.

Inbetween

Touching skewed spiralling shapes
my vivd waking life.
An infinite edge
to a familiar language,
dreaming every night.

Recognise shiny plastic
shapes as tree or dog or friend.
A hollow party
of paisley people,
the mesh dissapears and ends.

Meandering in life
a definate design,
only the movement matters.
An English blessing,
undignified trip,
the blatant rejection flatters.

We evolve as lone entities
and a single mass in motion,
rushing from a single source
to frantically awaken.

Life as fickle as a smoke belch
energy evades extinction,
yearning for a peaceful night
in a void of definition.