Identity is a project

 Courage and deception
The hidden designs fate nought but dream
Sharp blades cutting through schemes
War our permanent state

The abysses of love and hate
wisdom is never clean
Tragic necessity
Twofaced reality kind and mean

The wanderer roves unhindered
The king reigns and proclaims
The sorceror drives the druid insane
The hunter and the begger seek movement

Perpetually becoming through the hallways of existence
No power inside self defined identity destiny winks
Power thick wrecking power you find in thirsty adaptability
How the men court the fancy fleeting illusions of stability

There is no such thing as peace
Truths are not singular nor do they last
They must be understood through a mask
Inside such wisdom is dirty

Survival belongs to those restless in twilight
Who become the tool, weapon, the escape, the fight
Who let the season teach them pain and life it gives
Those who leap between these contrasting perspectives

(Skiptingr)

Creaking gears

 The driver put the truck into gear
It all rumbled to life
The reverberating chasis hummed
All through the shaking container shell

It spat a few big dirty clouds of black diesel smoke
Like an old man would coughing on his last cigarette
Rattling inconsistently as the wheels slightly turned
Dragging the rest of the beast onto the road

A slow turtle across a hot tar road
Slowly gliding into the middle of the road
swerving round the curve attempting to stay aligned
Driver gripping steering wheel with both trembling hands

He leans forward in an attempt to adjust his position
exhaustion and discomfort seem to radiate
And off it groans lost in suburbia
Chaotic residential labrynth

Using every effort in the brake and clutch
to slow for the oncoming lights
The truck ducking and grinding
yellow surrendered to red

Then budging and reanimating again
Driver forcing himself through each gear
A mother pushing her son up a steep hill
Into fourth back down to third

For there thirty meters ahead was a speed bump
slowing rattling rushing to kick down into each gear
Weary sighs and metallic grunts as the object neared
Hitting the speed bump a little too quick

The chasis jumped like a teen avoiding getting tripped
the container shook like an angry overworked teacher
Driver slammed his wrists on steering wheel
Another year of deliveries

Lawrence the cockroach man

Sat in an old armchair
Is a man in his fifties
No eyes, tongue or teeth
health neglected just disease

One may not know if he is awake
He is still noone can read him
The way to know when to feed him
Is to lean in and check his breathing

Large agile cockroaches use his body
His opened cheeks his unkempt hair
Their extra appendages sharp and scary
Sinister insects yet meticulous and caring

Cleaning and eating from each horrid sore
The man shows relief when they start to gnaw
The size of mice scuttling through him
Keeping him alive through the dust and dim
 

Everchanging eyes you remember

 Through the boredom you sought me
looking at you conjuring the shine
Did you see the way my eyes
 ran over your surprise

The way I wouldn't look away
felt me going in far enough to stray
Distant subtle harps you pondered
Inside your mind you wonder

My thoughts squeezed you out
Ran through the stream of day a spout
You refused there was ever a time
As if thinking of me was a crime

You would sleep and there they would be
My everchanging eyes clear as clarity
whatever they aroused within you
You'd never admit risking flattery

Wake looking at ceiling
kiss shape formed on your mouth
Slowly dozing slowly smiling
dreams rising and receding like tides

Next time these eyes will be easier to find
Downloaded into the center of your mind
I love women like you pretending to be reviled
overpowering etiquette perfume of denial

Dancing around these sensitive truths
Are you my muse, or am i that to you?

Dissimilarity

 I only turned my back on them
Because I wasn't welcome
And places where I was welcome
attempted exploitation

Groups sent me out
I nodded and left
Sometimes offended
sometimes relieved

I walked as a pariah
Solitude and quiet time alone
I would reapproach and be rejected
Then accept my reality

The other loose ends wanted to bond
They couldn't see their own goodness
Conspiring to trick one another
Teaching me the merit of a lie

Soon enough I left them too
Not by my own choice
But because I didn't fit in there
I was the uneven piece

I finally felt my eeriness
My misplaced neediness
I didn't measure up well
No comparison whatsoever

Deflection

 those train tracks could still heat up in spring
Tragic rails toward the capital
We walked sometimes hand in hand
I couldn't get a read on it

The pavement sweat
I spat
she cursed me
I deflected but points were lost

At the train station
we waited like fishermen for the tide
late afternoon couldn't interrupt the silence
But as those tragic rails shook chatter arose too

The carriage shot through like an unwelcome thought
doors opened elderly hobbled out
We in our lost youth climbed in
agile spiders

A chuckle a swing around the hand rail
Seated seductive grin filled up the train
The pale stained linoleum sweat
I cursed cynically

She deflected and we were even
trouble poured out of her
She screamed through the empty wagon
Noone saw us

For we were a flash of youth
A passing sunset too bright missed by most
Pure illusion projecting gentle happiness
when our guts stored wrath

Bias a narcotic

 I bought her opium from the city
aniseed flavored lollipop narcotic
ritual like on grandmother's quilt
She slowly licked at it

The town was huddled
People lived their desperate agendas
She slowly slipped into euphoric trance
going further and further into herself

The vase expanded and contracted
The poppy flowers inside seemed to grow
then spontaneously drip glue like substance
The city stirred and rummaged through itself

She looked into her ownself
The hours of life blending into messages
surging up onto her own tongue
as she told herself her own story