The God Principle
Uncertainty is the hallmark of divinity! — If you are God, and you created this entire universe would you let yourself see you’re God or would you prefer not to know? Would you declare yourself God-on-Arrival or would you slip away quietly into the crowd? Is the greatest magician one who can trick everyone or is the greatest magician one who can trick one’s own self? If you can create any universe you want why would you want to create one where you know everything, see everything, hear everything? Where there are no surprises. no challenges, no uncertainty?
A poem — All my certainties dissolve And pool around like rain puddles The starkness of nothingness The blankness of essence The simulation I cannot escape Cause I am the simulator Everything I say, I say to myself Everything everyone says, I say to myself I imagine this and I live this Everything is…
All I am is Want For You
A poem — You’re here sitting across. I can see your frown as you focus on the laptop, your hair once tied tightly now beginning to slowly unravel indicating it has no desire to stay tied forever. Your fingers rapidly communicating thoughts, your feet pressed against mine as I feel you tense from the emotions they are transferring. Your body wrapped in a blanket that I envy for its proximity to your warm and pulsing flesh.
I Feel it All
A poem — All the pleasure and all the pain Every blade stamped by wandering feet Every tree snapped by thundering rain Every cock snaking through wanton flesh Every bird swallowed by hungry snake Every man tortured in self hatred Every sun rising through luminous mist Every moon setting as the dawn begins Every smile flashing through kissable lips Every nail crucifying messianic hands Every breath fogging glass window Every tummy sleeping through hungry night Every eye signaling its deepest desire Every whip stripping away sensitive skin I feel it all, together, this instant.
The Bullet Didn’t Miss Me
A poem — I missed the madness in his eyes Missed the fear that shook his thighs Missed the gun pointed at my face Missed the bullet that seared my gaze. Missed the terror inside his heart Missed the anger that tore it apart Missed the pain that wracked his fingers Missed the bullet whose aroma lingers. Missed the sun now risen so high Missed the sweat and his smile so shy Missed the spasm that pulled the trigger Missed the bullet but the bullet didn’t miss me.
San Francisco Evening
A poem — Feces festering fleas on the streets Flagrant fellatio fleeing on our feet Fearless freckles frowning in the sun Fingers frolic feeling your tight bun. Luscious lips longing for your kiss Loud lingering laughter that I miss Large lethargic lid over your eye Lithe legs lounging under the sky. Crazy cocktail collecting ice cold cubes Comfy couch cushioning near-naked boobs Cute cuddly characters sing in parade Careless cops circle in masquerade.
I feel accomplished. I feel all the many distinct strands of the past winding together. And I see all the many futures converging into one. Where the past was messy and the future murky, I feel like I’m traveling on one bright beam of light. Cutting straight through the inner webs of the universe. Taking me on a journey from non existence to existence. From fear to belief. From desire to over-powering love.