Feed myself

The city has an appetite
No notion of the future
Eyes on lunch and dinner
come and join the meal

The deadline comes before the paycheck
strategy is sauce, obesity is checkmate
Ambition is a quartely dinner plate
so you better eat it all up

They threw love and stuff in the landfill crapper
invalidated like pretty Christmas wrapper
and all that's prized is the will to hunger
digest that under your well worked lungs

Have you got eyes bigger than your stomach
you want to leave the table full and fuss
To keep those landfills churning the methane over us
I might just ignite it all in the name of rot and rust

For the force that can eat more than your hunger, is fire
it lights up the shadows within all of you teeth for hire
show me another meal steaming and edible
come and join us at the table, be entrée and visible

Mojo on the market

Come with a handful of that stuff you call mojo
Priceless and ever in demand
Crime rises in it's lack
and spam rises in it's abundance grand

Hero's use it for makeup
coating their yoghurt faces
tears stuck up there in the cheekbones
pressurized and ambitious drops

A grass butcher shouts guttural bloody woe
asking if you would like a slice of that sweet fat mojo
But blood seeks us out hunts us down burns us to ash
Like a demon among us exterminating compassion

The world a fat lil boy who was so spoiled
he went bald and deaf at puberty royal
In another life an energetic wildiling insane
needing not even a womb to be born again

And mojo up on the supermarket shelf
what's it going for these days do you know?
a few minutes for a year of health?
Mojo could you afford me a kilo?

I need some for my guilty yoghurt face
A pound of flesh a few footsteps to keep pace
A portion of bloody pure unrefined mojo
So I can repeat my messy moves out of the dojo

Marauder of your wayward dream

Far off darkness hums like a smokey reverberating spleen
smoke from a painted nowhere over-manufactured machine
science a potent magic of privileged disease
Love fluctuates like stocks queasy
All of the presents that a christmas god stocked
A thousand labled with my old name ticking like a clock

My new thoughts in my brand new brain
All that I was owed, was given in great armfuls of pain
poor farm boy, I had his eyes, but the rest of me
the rest of me was the caniving city
freeing myself from moral tether
trimming ethic from sky scrapers and weather

Power isn't automatic I'm steam somehow
If you are reading these words now
let them tickle your eyes and flick the inner test
I'm entering far back there into your resistance and hunger for exit
splintering it to make sweet porridge with your perplexity

A piece of my glare is in the same sun bouncing off your surface worth
earnestly in the banal way you pluck it as I fall to earth
arrogant across the cornucopian grape and grain
A huge mouth, a color coded campaign
of a loveless digestive tract

Screaming for light like a moth pest
 like an asylum maniac restless
ever moving waning, but growing, overloading across the shadows
agression where love should ride through narrows
And when it comes to finding my place in time
 Taking me further than the street signs in my mind

The echo of my voice burrowing into silt grass rock and sand
The old form of me withering and ashamed yet grand
the forest past and city future man ugly delicious I am
A spanner and hammer to meddle with god's plans

Untied and unknown free to put a knot in the world and it's short term plans

Fear hides danger

It was not the giant that smite you

A dozen illusions rise wailing and smoking a swirling lure
Crawling into the mind and forcing it to tremble
Some tests you must fail to pass, to be cured
Yet the voices threaten oblivion for failure

It was not the agile beast that clawed you down

The jungle wavers yet no breeze is felt just a sinister glare
Is it  alive or does the suble breeze tickle the leaves there
Uncertainty grows into a mature fear
The deeper shadows growl near

It was not the lake monster's jagged teeth that ripped your flesh submerged

Not the sly eel lurking to test it's rough sharp bite
Not the croc in wait to drag the unaware in fright
Not the enraged hippo wreaking havoc in furious gripes

It was no predatory beast or fish that maimed you,
just a tiny parasite

Bravery makes his acquaintance

He wished for courage under clouds and no certainty
The day before him like a starved monster glaring at him
The energy a tiny pool in his stomach slowly accumulating
The sun not shining, The flow not forming

The mind processes several images
Fear manifesting as a phantom sporting a cheerful grimace
Wanting to shake hands and be recognized
Like a forgotten brother furnishing evidence to terrorize

The inevitable dangers start to show themselves aswell
Floating grins fill the air, fear invites anxiety's hell
gesturing with a skeleton finger and joy laden frown
They use their joint persuasion to dog him down

But his dreams will feed the stomach  and tiny pool
Will stir the flow and substitute his cool
Push his spirit and will the grit to flower
Fear dismays and anxiety cowers

Courage opens a tiny door from his spine
The brazen will awakens and unwinds
The water dragon of bravery bears teeth to eat
His body moves and fear is defeated

A simple meal devoured suddenly
after acquainting with bravery

Why aren't you still hungry?

Derision of the afterlife

Old age has jailed you

Alas you still chastize the spiritual

Your dormant life slowing your blood

numbing your organs

Will the stoic boast at his last breath?

At his interpretation of life's test

At his insistance of his rightness

Before the soul's eternal night sets

For what reward did you sacrifice the great power to fracture

Ambition lacks and dies a tragic death as if a fad 

In the heart sadly where absence of passion inspires attacks

Contentedness is a lie old lad

Passion a fact

Humility would give you more to float on

Self knowledge a lost friend 

you never got your vengence against

What dream have you given yourself beyond complete emptiness?

Have you not pondered or wished something despite your

committed derision of the afterlife

A toddler taunting an ant, not aware the forest itself, mocking the toddler.

Dry Eden frost

The blue so sharp it painfully purifies the eye
as if frost fell from the nights own angels lost and hopeful

On the damp frosty clear morning
The air full of glory, a crispy clasp
Frost slowly melting into dew
glinting off the blades of long grass

The river's brown swerving currents
hiding fish and algae, the rocky noughts
grass grain heads dipping in
and bouncing out of the water

The dry cold land inviting
soothing and haunted
unlocked and empty
Yet fertile and patient

It was mine all mine
My domain to plant what I desire
The high mountain looking down
though encouraging to the point to inspire

The transference of life's power

Sacred and wholly divine
When earned above all things
A world above all things

Our resources boundless
For creativity was granted a sword
One sharp enough to cut the old from the new
replenishing the trajectory's vitality

Fighting the world of desires
And they like ghosts fade
like ruins collapse
Age dictating and ordering all choices no more

Purpose is a never ending meal
no dessert

Legacy of the great
Posterity's muscle
growing inch by inch
over years exempt from whim and trend

See life power for what it is
never underestimating or exaggerating it's force

The power without and within

The power within
As shade face of the statue stands cold
The sun face warm
emptiness of the cold concrete
traced with a finger

You are that statue
you must turn around
face the sun
absorb the rays

And when the sky is grey cast and sullen
pick up your bones
revel in cold and worship the way it is
For an energy longs to flow
from outside of us to inside
From within and then without

Ever abundant
Lack ebbing and flowing
never dominating you
so be the moving statue
through dark or light
Meaningful to meaningless and vice versa

Subtle purpose
hiiden in the plane, eagle and rocket
The future a prize and a promise

The teeth of the palm

The palm tree was a lion staring down at the people
people moving so close together they could be water
a river of people
The Forest itself was a lion on it's side relaxing by the bay
growling in the sun

The same sun that reflected off the little wavelits
that made up the surface of the dangerous bay
The Lion's nose was a dock, it's teeth the war boats
it's main hundreds of enthusiastic militia
jumping on the bald open space before the water

The palm tree bent down in the wind as if  a tiger lowering itself to attack
The neighborhoods behind the city would be a comic display indeed
each house or cabin a joke, each apartment complex a hilarious analogy
To take eyes off the violence, to seperate them from the lions and tigers

To give them some kind of visual stimuli
to distract their war owned minds and give them paint and homelife decor
Yet the palm tree was a lion