Authenticity and barf

 upchuck from floaters
Nothing i write is original 
It's hook line and sinker cockamamie
They say there is nothing original

I s there authenticity

Were the greats right

would he spit on me today

barf up their real time incidental vocabulary

Upchuck with floaters
Not very authentic his stale alcoholic ghost says
He laughs himself back to hell
Turns as he boosts off and tells me im a poser

I barf up a metaphor I admire

tweek and bruise

get another year older

convince you I'm for real

Upchuck and floaters
Ona margerine swamp
queues of misunderstood talentless artists
In line for the non event

Face value

 The face loomed before me.
You are not good enough to recieve, it said.
Then repeated it.
Do you think you are entitled to anything in this life son.

They dug inside but couldn´t find any value
The face gets closer and says
You don't deserve this
You will be cut off

So cut off we are 
Cut off we become
Are these people playing victim
Little price tag with the numbers rubbed out

A big zero

When the helmet falls

 The helmet falls
i'm wounded
I sit by the woods edge
counting the seconds of life 
Then blackness

Pulled away from one reality
sliding into another
far from the battle field
The last breaths dragging me back
between two realms

Then all at once flung between the line of life
Into full death
Into the other place whole and abandoned
sitting inside a tea colored cloud
swirling up around me

Whispering thousands of questions
Questions I myself might ask
Out of the corner of my life I caught an angel
It flashed into shape and light behind the smoke

Like a frog upon a rock
All purpose zero form
Just observing me observe it

The tea colored fumes dissipated
And the inquisition began

The smoke was comfort, the angel truth

Sometimes wonder

 From the corner of my eye
 Feeling danger climb my spine

I liked the way God had arranged
 the sun had colored skin
Innocent glances pulled my eyes back
 known from another life
I kept trying

Afraid of saying too much
 Divinity for a fool
Became a mystery
 Mystery filled the space
But knowing should have been.

Couldn't bring you in
  I am the imposter.
 The fumbler 
feeling may die

fantasy replaying week after week.
Eventually the feeling became strange,
Avoidance and ignoring
Heart beats smoother

when they once felt real.
Sometimes wonder 

Smooth splinters

 Broken 
yet floating
a smooth nothing
An abandoned yaught
Hull crashed

Sea simulates emotion
But none here
Splinters are sanded down

Salt water makes each surface
Soft and indistinct
too smooth

false comfort

A bet against the psyche
When it plays grim tricks
 upon the heart and mind

But its' all gone now

wave on wave the craggy is rounded and tasteless
like the padding on the inside of
The asylum

God's dream

 God said to me go and creat strange things of these dreams
So I set out and said yes
I launched myself from the oblivion of sleep 
Into the port of the dream world

There I land from the empty skies
The meaningless waves rising from behind
I land in the color mix it with the blankness
Unleash the creatures and spirits

Until the land is thick with the wrything mess
The noise is the shore rock being torn up
the deafening crashing 
Until the commotion bring a new world upon you all

Cannabis on the school excursion

 He had pulled down a sticky bract of that cannabis
But the teacher had been watching the whole time
Now he would be expelled
But it was a beautiful day
Quite possibly the best ever

The teacher pulled him aside
Pulled the stinking bud out of his bag
Accused him of drug dealing on the spot
No more school excursion
No longer a student

Whatever he shoved down his pants
He would roll and smoke before he gave his parents the bad news