Cycle

Seems I need to make some changes
Faced with all the time wasted
laced with regrets overslept on
Felt myself become beyond numb
Painstakingly ignorant to the problem
Using my temple as an instrument, instrumental to letting go
Sacrificing sacred experience for a state of temporary delerium
Ears dulled to any and all fears I feel
Invigorating ears to tone deaf appeal
Avoiding answers to the obvious questions
Know the cycles but failed at retention
Relentless this desire is to dull the message
Trying to block a road that's endless
Fearing what I know but fearing more the unknown entities knocking at my door
Seems more and more these hostilities make my bones sore
It's a cold war between awareness and carelessness, both switching shifts
Bartering my contentedness and shifting my transmission stick
Heading uphill on a road covered with oil slick
Can't miss what I can't get to
Laying plans on a map to the promised land with the sputtering caravan
Trotting along like an off note song my heart thrums along
The mirror shows a forlorn young son shedding layers of the tongue
Surrounded by teeth chipped on the years serving dish
Yet there isn't a moment I'd miss
The soul pumping this steam engine oils the gears and levers with toils unrelented
The spoils spoiled by the festered
Letters rotted back to soil
Growing new worlds as the blood boils
Soap scuds from cleaning grime and gunk from the last funk
Came full cycle, now I'm done

Societal Struggle (work in progress)

Within these things I find the the relishing within which suffering brings/
Denoting the inconsistencies consistently/
Cutting down the twofold path the forest mapped for lumber to overlook all wonder/
Sap harvested to breakdown and target the niche market/
Bullseye on a misplaced target/
The hunted mumbling asundred fumblings, flushed out the quarry/
Not to worry, we're determined to die in a hurry/
Accelerating through murky muddled waters, seeking/
Finding hate in a puddle/
Through all these claimed necessities I see a world brought to its knees/
What we were born of squeezed for assets in this monopoly/
Made a part of me by poverty and economy/
A justified mockery of the humanity residing in me/
Employing me to conquer and destroy in a military society/
Armed to the teeth with denial they breed/
Internalizing and disarming any objections I might apply/
I am one of kindred sets of eyes recognizing the weights placed on my mind/
With that hindrance defined I as a cave creature find sight where I was once blind/
Step into the light sacrificing ignorance for insight/
The plight recognized as devised to keep my minds eye simplified/
You might find the future ten steps devined/
One hundred moments defined with 99 that don't align/

Mistress

I think I miss having a mistress
This black widow sits inches from my lips
Mind catches flak as I reminisce
While mine mind refuses the past
The heart regrets that which hasn't lasted
Fault distributed and I try to shoulder it unrefuted
I've been dejected for loneliness, for wanting comfort selfishness
Then cherished unable to accept
Loving her first was dancing on the precipice of a cliff
Falling down it by night, come morn awakening again at the beginning
Cringeing at the cycles known, marked spoke by spoke
Releasing the broken hamster from the wheel to contemplate these choked on fears
Somehow stockholm syndrome had its appeal
By force I fled the cage when you found another marionette to take the stage
At first rage, then I saw the roles you played
So focused externally I didn't look within
Inside of me there sat such rejected melancholy I quarrelled internally
Me couldn't just be me I had to become an agent of a partners whim
Well it's good the bitch cut the strings
I was bewitched and suffering
Hard to believe, I nurtured the ivy that deprived me
Parasitic and entirely unrealistic
So much I almost miss it
After all these years you've become so simplistic
Lit the wick and kicked regrets to the sea
Remembering the you is an illusion made by me
Taught to strive for emotional simplicity
My oh me, what's simple really?
Her beautiful distraction could've killed me
Love is blind, always will be
20/20 has us all saying really, what's truly?
Now I take care of self in and out of health
I'd suggest the lesson flows downhill
Don't be a tool be the shed
Move forward and don't dread
Plant the seed and grow past these shallow needs
First and foremost give and receive
No person is worth being a hollow shell of these

Onwards

Yep, should've added a prefix
Regressing past regrets
Stepping back to the past less
Sailing a ship that's mastless
On winds amassed to crash the masses
The strong survive
I find myself surrounded by the qualified
In my mind a kaleidoscopic monical tracks my environments periodicals
Cataloguing exoticals and less than exciting methodicals
Time slows to a scrawl, stops
Ruts in the deadlock
Kept still by the thought of the clock
Ironic, that which tracks decay in laps fails to track this mental lapse
Scaling these hills to the hilt of time that made roses wilt in decline
And as telescopes recline to watch the stars align
I too will find my place in the grand design
Casting my line with answers
In a sea full of questions while the fisherman questions the essence
Every catch further fueling this relentless
Eyes close and the melodic push of time gets recycled
Revelations fuel the cyclone
Pushing and pulling with the currents of the beanstalks seed
Pillars built by the sorely missed who continue to give
Within all theories relative
Unabident to the hymns given by the living
Antidotes for doubt and it's treacherous louts
Ignoring what humans felt history was one size fit all
It's a nuclear bomb, one man could kill them all
Upon a floated vigil promoting bestowed civilities
As the well runs dry I find it burning beautifully
A sacrifice required for a better life
It's called the better fight despite a fight never being right
We'll stab all our shadows until we too are run through
Left blue and breathless questioning the heavens guest list
Unaware of what we miss
Relinquishing this and that goaded to negligence by sly aristrocrats
A whole lot of mix and match to patch the potholes in the path
Unfunded by the latter mentioned riff raff
Yet finding puzzle pieces mismatched
Digging through dialogue to find a mask to match
It's all calm and billabongs until the peasant learns the song
 Grind it down to balms this soothing alm
I find this seeking not worth searching
Unaware of whom the worth is
Seldom is it found attached like name tags to a person
So you tell me how to find the worth of the worst whos working
For a better inner person I'm still searching
Putting that work in for what it's worth then
You can bet I'll question the crest of this wave when the curiousity remains unstaved
Save moments of tourniquet pains
Tourniquets made, I damn near tied that knife in inflicting the pain
Not to name names as time will yet settle the bets pasted on my cyborg frame
Fame airbrushed on the underside of the little I've gained in terms of monetary aims
Must've missed the sugar coated Schindlers list passing heavens guest list
This pacifist is more than happy to let your objections sit and teach you shit
Cause at the bottom the silt yet drifts looking for a pit
Falling through the cracks as the clock ticks
Reflecting patterns of scattered brain matter on gold plated platter
Upon the void the gold shatters scattering meaning to dimensional rafters
Yet I still find the will to write new chapters
Onwards my friends to the ever afters

Petter- mikrofonkåt (Instrumental) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-Kqbbfbufk

Straight comin out the dungeon

Lunchin on empirical assumptions

Part of a somber assemblage

Countin the 99 steps to heaven

Losses of the brethren settled in

Akin to kin bathed in sin

Fuck this societies homonyms

Your ignorance is uncomfortable

Hypocrisy devoured like a lunchable

Rhyme level untouchable

Broke crutches I once found loveable

Mind plays back past blows for blows

Time plays at a laminar flow

Vibrating at the rate of tremolo

Raps echo through the abode

Abyss, amiss to be living like this

At the bottom of the pit

Gravediggin towards a sky I can kiss 
 

Shaking weaknesses like snowglobes

Watching the empire wither

Splinters of wood flow downriver

Fletch em, add em to my quiver

The cold makes us shiver

Internalized like shots to the liver

Tethered to a mirror image

Shattered the glass with shards

Came through on a silent hill

Quill that froze the inkwells

Stabs perspective till it kills

Blood to sate the wishing well

In my skull

Hum intolerable

Float above states with my thought rate

Pack memorabilia in the crate

Germinate till a better date

Behemoths sate infinite thirst

Worst comes to worst

Nurse until it hurts

It’s one thing to patch a wound

Another to brood in brew

I’ve watched whole lives consumed

Don’t know which is worse, resisting or obeying thirst

For a term, curse is relative

We manifest and obey our quips

Bail water out of sinking ships

Flood the deck

Saw the shipwreck and must manifest

I guess it’s a quest

To process and digest

traumatic experience

Comfortable inside delerium

See the world quite sane

However I’m the weather
Meterologist interpretations

Determine how I’m viewed by the nation

Contemplation settles how I’m pacing

Or outpacing
The way I travel is olympic

I’m passed the torch then I kick it

From Atlantic to Pacific

Prolific

Reflections

As I feel my reflection

I’m guessing at the current direction

It sets in subtle

The aftershock of a stark rebuttal

Sort through the rubble of the huddle
Rode the short bus when I could’ve flew the shuttle

What’s easy, really?
Upon sorting could and would be’s

Settled upon all hurdles as developmental

It’s only sort of sentimental

Considering some of my existence has been littering

Littered amongst the simple things

Simple things incinerated into complexities
Complexities that formed a tough husk

Seeds that grew into complexions

Worn and weathered

Brushing a face with hands gentle as a feather

Environments that frayed the letter

Tough as leather

I swear I’ve tried to burn the past

Only to find I’m a pack rat
Alas when a ship has sailed

There isn’t yet a man who hasn’t manufactured contraband

to see further, telescopes that choke the very heartstrings

That allowed happiness to lead unto suffering

Not even surprised at the spectacle

That magnifying glass itself

Focuses the wrath at those tattered cloth sails

One can only watch as that oil is heated

Illuminating the yellowed

Igniting the purifying flames

Cleansing what was considered sameness

Completing the aging on those warped pieces