On Be-ing...

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What does it mean

To be

To be - out of time

To be - out of space

What becomes of us

When we are no more

In this place

Perhaps we die

Decomposing to become

Manure for the trees

Food for the worms

Or maybe, just maybe

We never really die

Perhaps we remain alive

Through the words we spoke

And the lives we touched

Leaving echoes of us

Rippling in essence

Of time, of life

Of everything

The immortal flap

Of a butterfly’s wing.

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30 AND COUNTING

0 Was for nothing and not knowing

Gasping and blind groping

It was for cries and sleep

Simplicity and peace

2 Was for the shedding

The awakening into a slumber

It was for mastery

Of the art of wake walking

5 Was for the splinter

The shimmering of a notion

The invitation of mirages

It was for a sort of sowing

A silent seed

9 Was the beginning

Though I did not know it

It was about creation

Me, trying to build something

Me, trying to build a me

15 Was for the mirror

Reflections on what I had made

Who I had become

It was my last real glance

At the face of innocence

20 Was for looking back

At the carnage that is growing up

It was for the ache of heartbreaks

And disenchantment with reality

It was for the taste of salt and a slap of vinegar

23 Was for a crack, the crack

I should have never plucked that splinter!

It was for the death of me

And the agony of placelessness

It was for the falling of scales

The birth of new eyes

28 Was for acceptance

That we are all equally lost

Holding onto whatever we have to

That it is okay to hold on

To things, ideas, or people

30 Is for the becoming

Taking firms steps

And staring at the face of destiny

It is for the flashing of swords

And the slaying of dragons.

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PAIN OF NUMBNESS  

I want to feel

The pain

Of being pulled

Limb by limb

By wild beasts

Whipped

With razor wires

I want to feel

My lungs

Flooding with freezing water

From the inside

Till I gouge at my chest

Peeling flesh

And scratching bone

I want to feel

My feet

My naked feet

Walking over molten rocks

Hissing with pouring lava

I want to feel a six inch nail

Being driven into my fucking skull

A needle, pressed into my eye!

I want to feel all this pain

And then a thousand more

A million more

More, more, more

I want to feel

Something

Anything,

But this

....

This nothingness.

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