When the waters recede

 Again there they wait by their boats.
Packing them with everything they'll need.

There's always something missing.
What is missing in you.
in me?

And what exactly are we crossing water for?
Can I replace what is missing?
We never feel ready.

Everything is rented, nothing is owned!
But I need ownership.
I need to exclude some.

Again there they wait packing their bins with food.
All will be gone if it capsizes over the flooded land.
Who am i to question them?

My house floats.
little waves hit my footstep.
Like white lies I tell myself.

Get myself through the day.
They'll get themselves over the deluge lakes.
And moor themselves once again in my vicinity.

Movement even when it appears so redundant is good.
It freshens the mind in this windless flooded land.
And when the waters recede I will plant and build.

And again there they will wait rolling up there belongings.
looking at my dreams and laughing themselves silly.
And I won't tell them they are trapped.

I won't tell them there's something better.
I'll let them cross the waters and seek great nothings.
One day they'll come back and pay tribute.

If they don't drown. 

Chaos is food

 Make your way
There is space in the world
There are roads to take
Curiosities to understand

The world has your kind of food
Chaos you said you consume
You can sustain yourself here
And walk with me your helper

Come through and save the insisters the imposters
Those that force themselves to conflict
They fail themselves miserably
You could tell them to be still

There are so many crazy and sad ones
Lost out here in the noise
In the sleepless nights
Looking for peace wheere there is none

Sometimes peace is not the medicine
Sometimes chaos is food

Lewis lethargic

 The cross eyed dog
A four year old male
sleeps all day
a quiet creature

only barking when someone arrives
then back to sleeping
snoring and cozy nothings
a lazy old

The furr over dresses him
overheating him and dazing him
Life is a slow stumble over to the food bowl
a few laps of the water bowl

A few heavy pants
A shake of the coat
A glance at the owner
And back to the rug

Hell of a reason

 

Punishment is admiration,
Don't admire.
Because of the arrogance,
the need to be humbled.

Because I speak with certainty,
when there is none.

Because I am wishy-washy,
offer no value.
Don't pretend to be stunned.

Because I am narcissistic,
self-involved, ego run,
and deserve abandonment.

Because I am secretly a greedy one
and want the world beneath my thumb.

Because people are so loyal,
yet I dream of treachery.

Because I fantasize about killing,

about being a despot.

Because I can never simply be.

 I ask for more than what I've got.

 I am dirty.

I am worthless.

Tell me.

Such a sluggish piece of shit

 I'm a sluggish man
Look at me move across the pavement
Exhaustion is the only feeling I carry within
every minute a struggle

I creep up on my curb
my joints inflammed in agony
I have not the strength to drag myself to my feet
I am shattered I am crippled 

I crawl for I have no power to walk
I am waiting for that hand
For a crutch or support
How pathetic I look on the road

Laying here on the steet like lame begger
But I'm not Like a begger, I am a begger
And beggers cannot be choosers so i will recieve what they give me
I will be grateful for the sun, the smell of hot tar, the pity in the pedestrians eyes

A smile behind a smile

 The French clerk spoke to me in his language.
I understood the main idea just not he details.
He had perfume and jewelry on sale.
Identfying himself as an expert

The man smiled behind his smile
His form of distilled pride graceful
The original smile in his spirit wiley
reflecting through his polished face

The wooden surfaces grain oh dainty
Posture of the clerk oh so saintly
Romantic notions of tradition
His smile behind the smile

His empty knowingness
Assumptions shined and sheen
He pretended to be humble
All ostentation and vitrines

Post flood survival

 The land is flooded
We have taken to canoes
small boats and floating
What was once underneath is now concealed by water

Your home has become a boat
Yet each person is alone upon their own boat
Following not the one who navigates properly
But the one whose boat is most ostentatious

The water is dark and carries with it the dusts
None my know the depth except for the objects above water
Trees and lamposts that give evidence of roads underneath
But what use are any of those roads now

Our dominion has been reduced to small islands
The land now belongs to the fish