Anything!

Some believe Ernest Hemingway was some unique prophet disguised as an alcoholic writer. Me... I don't know about that. Would be cool if it were true but no one can really say if it was or wasn't. Just like with most things.

I'd like to believe that in a couple of decades, or longer, people will be saying something similar about me and my work. If they don't... fine. I just get the strong feeling that it is a real possibility. I don't believe in much but I do believe in possibilities.

Why don't most people believe in possibilities? I suppose there's no clear cut general answer.

A few years back I started paying more attention to the evening sky. I don't know what prompted it. I just all of a sudden felt like watching the stars one evening.

Those giant balls of gas hardly get the recognition they deserve. I mean... they are capable of existing for thousands or even millions of years! Could you imagine what that must be like? Of course not! We humans are only capable of seeing and believing what's right in our direct line of sight.

If you could live to be say oh 1,000 years old how would you spend most of your life? If your answer has anything to do with accumulating a vast fortune or any other sort of material gain I am sorry to say that I personally believe your answer is far too one sided to be even remotely "realistic."

We're talking about 1,000 years here! 1,000 years old! As it stands right now the average life expectancy of a semi-healthy human being is between 75-78 years of age. Yet, somehow most people still find it necessary to cling to very superficial and impermanent things.

Life is indeed short. We ALL know this! But the majority of us also blatantly choose to deny this fact!

So, how has mankind spent most of its existence? We've spent many centuries conquering one another, oppressing one another, violently abusing each other, starting wars, causing famine, causing disease, causing general disorder and mayhem within our own cities etc. etc.

I guess it's no real wonder why we have trouble believing in possibilities. Though, I do believe it is a serious issue that should be discussed at great length with every individual.

Granted, that's just my personal belief and/or opinion.

I do, however, also believe that multiple choices/possibilities are available to us in any given moment. Yes, it is ultimately up to each of us to make our own decisions. Just remember this:

Every choice we make leads to more choices and options and introduces us to people who must also choose which path to follow. And their choice may or may not be based on your choice. If we cut out all the middle work we will find that ALL paths are interconnected and interdependent.

One person can make a difference but an entire planet of people can accomplish anything! ANYTHING!

Crust

Oh the mighty versus the weak. A poet knows what's what. The populace would much rather blow each other to pieces than hug and forgive minor offenses.

Before we know it - 1,000 years doesn't come soon enough. And we all transmute back into the Earth's crust.

We All Gotta'

We all gotta' love each other! You can deny it all you want and say it is a "crazy" idea but it won't change the fact that we all just gotta' love each other!

One More Life

Dante wishes
Dietro
Ombra perfection
Christ's
Science project
Recognizes
Demon-strations
Of
Angelic abstracts
The face faints
Circular
To centre
These jealousies
Mean to distill purity
As constellations
Come to life
All human beings shape
Their own demise
Which leads to
One more Life

Smell Evolves

Was a man with a guitar
Little notes swapped intuitive
Learned languages phased
Out-side got spit on
Set on fire
By insane christianity
Bags of caramel crunch
Roughly smoothed lovers
Hags threw up their lunch
Gin soaked affluence
Dumpsters, peering in boxes
Cardboard warms him
Stars in sky
Spell out liberation
The world is unappreciative
Consider trash, garbage
Influential instantaneous
Was a man / with a truth
The music smell evolves

Self Involved

A rich emporium of eagle satin pleasure troves of unfamiliar dyslexia feels normal. Stood by her only broken thumb and wrist to douse the pain points with my mental minutiae. Funny, funnily space is a farce not far from fortitude. Speaking up for the loneliness inside us all.

The tubes are light like pancakes and butter and not syrup. Science makes believers into cynics: purposeful fortuitous. Jesus, the back hurts. Say it will mimic okay.

Each day the sun sparkles in particular for whorish mannerisms. Say, I said that that would find you in unknown states of cholera. Pandemic, handle your broom pushing allegory. Turtles have lived for centuries before us human beings. I am quite certain they will outlive whole generations of peoples.

I cannot find a reason to ask out carnality and bring some home with me. Why? What for? Carnal delights are only delightful once in a plaid moon. If, if, if. If at all.

For what washer there was no doubt over the matter of a waxy hearted life filled and unfilled with lots of cello cellophane teardrops. Fangs to scrub with toothbrushes. Silvery stars crossed uncrossed vague delusions. Get her some special treatment, lotion.

(Aware of lifetime, a lifetime gone by.)

What is time? What is tiime? What is you? What is me? What is we? What is why? Why is why?

Another bossy window whore. She denies the cultural existence of another other follower who begins to dabble in the black arts. Arts of good-ness subtle wings fanciful the trees, trees, trees try reconnecting us with the truth of the matter of factual evidential screamo skies. (!)

In a very particular way I chased after her afterthought. The sidewalk felt firm yet agile. She said she was once a lioness in a previous life. I believed her only because she scribbled fiction on a plain paper plate. Connect dots; the dots connect every single thang thing.

Delineate the process. Belittle the essence. Sanctify the wholeness.

An estimated reading time of one minute and nine seconds is not a goal. 1,111 bodily counts down the melee. Exruciating in detailed spring memories surrender it all to the lasting symbolic deafness.

Egg sandwiches. Egg salad. Fried egg sandwiches.

Nearest molecules build us up in every possible vagueness. Absent minded I emplore the use of deoxy ribonucleic acid in my work. See it, sing it, want it, be it, it it.

We are our own victims. Victimized desensitized.

Self involved confusions usually involve rotating patterns of starlight. If at all, all.

Mirror Man

Saw a man in the streets lugging around an oversized mirror. You see he used to be a very successful stockbroker. He had it all: money, women, cars, vacation homes & plenty of recreational drugs at his disposal.

Then one day everything changed for him. He made one bad investment after another and lost millions! He defaulted on every loan and had all of his material things sold off at an auction. He was devastated. He tried to buy back his stuff but all he could afford was that mirror.

It once belonged to his grandfather and had been in his family for hundreds of years. His grandfather gave it to him on his deathbed and told him, "This mirror is very special. It can bring you lots of good luck or lots of bad luck. It all depends on what kind of person you are."

He did not believe his grandfather initially but now that he has lost almost everything he doesn't know what to believe. Therefore, he remains determined to hang on to that mirror for however long it takes him to get back his fortune.

Even if it means lugging it around for all eternity.

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