The swarming crowd
teeming larger than life,
descends into your molecular life
with singular strife, a bugle and a fife.

Now, in the jungle of your bungle,
you bang your drum slowly with
all that is holy and still you can't
get that secular design out of your
prehistoric mind. You learn to walk
on your own two misanthropic feet,
though your knuckles bleed and you never
run out of things to say, this way and
that, at a drop of a hat in a magician's empty act.

Blue skies to turn white bones brittle
your steps lose erring spruice
deferring the reverberation of metal
that snake who offers the apple, now to a silent noose,
as if you had a choice, screaming
your wrasping voice quickly lost
grasping the loss of meaning
seamless endlessness is the cost.

Life never seems simple
Every day I fake dimples
To bury a secret
So no one can read it
If I could
You know I would
I am about to break
And you just take and take
I don't need peace
When you take pieces
Of me
Please don't turn out the light
Everything is not... alright
Life is a race
I cannot keep the pace
People ask what I am doing
But I am not sure where I am going
People think I am flying
On the inside I am dying
This is my knife
Deep into my life

cool down man

you can't make everyone
listen!
many like me are
deaf and blind
in search of one
none can find

so leave your temper
far behind,
take God
out of your mind

cool down!

but you can't prohibit
poetry
that god alone does define
the critiques here
may refine....

Why this anger
I wonder
who so ever does
blunder
will get their share
why do you alone
about the unknown
so much
care...

cool down!
man!!!