The Paragon Of Human

Truth, love, and beauty;

Passion, lust, and touch;

Sensitivity to sensation

And paranoid towards trust.

Entertaining daydreams

Like therapy with dolls

With such awoken eyes

Searching for the cause.

The ends and the extremes

Blend and balance well

With the overactive mind

Imprisoned in its shell.

From lofty declaration

To the bitterest debate,

Through endless troubled minds

And self-deceitful hate

Are woven little strings;

Patterns evermore complex

Down crevices of ecstasy

And mountains of distress.

The paragon of Being

Human always more or less

In chaos everlasting

Till blissful stateless death.

Burning or cradling,

Tender or rough,

Knowledge and wisdom,

Too little or too much.

One without another

Like everything is not,

As love is to lust

What gotten is to got.

And yet,

I wish you well

Please feel better

Keep me warm

Kiss me deep

Fall asleep

Let it go

Stress no more.

 

 

Streaming Life Anywhere

Judging value

In indiscriminate measure

Through the process

Of identifying constants

Amid variable personas.

Chaotic babble

Interwoven with emotions

Clouding personallities

In insepid debate

Signifying little.

Introspective hell

Latching onto safe platforms

Expressing the darkest depths

Of existential dread

In idle whispers.

Entertainment

Like an inconvenient memory

Signaling dire warnings

As questionable information

Presents itself in lace.

Daydreaming watchers

Wondering within access

On the possible implications

Of life on Mars

Or anywhere.

Complexity breeds

As simplifying destroys.

Any and all answers

Wither on

Or grow away.

To Never Be Preyed Upon

To never be preyed upon

I learned

Either hunt or be hunted.

Be the breaker or the broken.

Swallow your sentimentallity

Or suffer.

Locked away in vaults

Of cold cruel steel,

Behind bitter dispassionate bars

Biting empathetic hands

I live

Looking out

At everything that’s kept away.

To never be preyed upon

Is to sever all your heartstrings

As each one tugs your veins,

Pushing them away

Before they draw you out,

Exposed, vulnerable,

Easy prey.

And every broken heartstring bleeds

In the buried vaults unseen,

Untouched by any hand

The writhing wounded psyche

I identify as me.

To never be preyed upon

Is to never be free,

Looking out to see pleasures

I wish I could’ve been

Open and tender

In such a way as to be

The delicate flower

I’ve sheltered to keep

From being preyed upon.

I weep

Behind locked steel doors

Ashamed of myself,

Afraid for myself,

In solitudes keeping

Too weak to be anything but

Never preyed upon.

 

 

 

Persona and Identity

Persona vs Identity

Both more or less complex

Patterns, habits, and daydreams coalesce

Conscious acts and sub-conscious desires

 

Stare into the abyss

Reflections of war-like aggression

Jealous and sick with obsession

A stubborn will and icy heart

 

In paradox afflux

A Soul sensitive to touch

Brittle, and broken too much

Weak and crippled with toxicity

 

Accordingly and as such,

Conflicting passions run amock

Madness in emotions stuck

Paralyzed by determined chance

 

In trance or thought

Passivity mingles with distress

Shameful needs be addressed

Compelling, or just dwelling

 

In purer moments

All complexities relax

Heart and mind re-interact

And passion kindles brightly

 

Failures fall away

Proclaiming my essence

Assured of my vital presence

I’m deliberate, I’m awake

 

Pieces all in place

To know and love what I’ve become

To realize and overcome

Re-associative embrace

 

Accepting my entirety

All my fragments in contradiction

In defiance of definition

Thriving as chaotic force

 

The Whole vs The One

Many millions may there be

Maybe none of them are me

Or maybe it doesn’t matter