With Earthly Eyes...

Here on earth with earthly eyes
Gazing away under moonlit skies
does Gawd, the ghostly Gawd look too
both from behind and right back into
these same searching earthly eyes
transfixed under His celestial skies

Does Gawd see the depth of depths reflected
in the superficiality of a sparse soul's sunken eyes
cast down unto His ocean floor, dejected
by the struggle of squints for a minor glimpse
of more than scattered shards of the shattered shadows
that cast such an abysmal darkness over a slumbering earth
which appears much more forsaken than protected

Here on earth with earthly eyes
Does Gawd gaze back as moonlit skies
as I look to see Gawd looking down
to see if Gawd can see Himself all around
in things above, beyond, or under ground
Or at least to see Him see Himself conflicted
in these earthly eyes so disparate, desperate, & restricted

Must all this light be intertwined
with all these shadows so maligned
Must this darkness so surround
any light that would abound
& Must these eyes be so confined
by umbral shades of an earthly mind

Here on earth with earthly eyes
with heavens obscured by night's disguise
and light no deeper than the ground
there must be something more profound
than truths that masquerade their hues
while tinged by shadows' blacks and blues
or unglimpsed by earthly eyes recused

For why else would these earthly eyes look out
and not cave-in, collapsing under sightless doubt
No there must be much more light than this
There must be so much earthly eyes have missed
More than sparks obscured by densest existential mist
Like loving words unspoken by beloved lips unkissed

Here on earth with earthly eyes
watching as my own light dies
only surfaces come into view
despite the depths from which they grew
All sights unseen or stared straight into
illuminate there's so much here I never knew
and give these earthly eyes insight to continue

The Cenobites Are Calling...

You'd eaten the fallen apple
and opened the infernal box
Then done penance at the chapel
and sacrificed your entire flock
But that blood-sugar aftertaste
was still upon your praying tongue
and your hands remained soiled & disgraced
as you'd held that sacrificial blade and swung

Now the Cenobites are calling
and they have such sights to show
While the bottom continues falling
and your blood is made to flow
The Cenobites are calling
and their secrets are yours to know
if only you'll answer without stalling
and surrender to depths beyond below

There is no sky beyond here
No light descending from above
Only fallen ceilings and crumbled walls
There are no grounds to tend here
Nothing to sow, nor reap, nor love
Only an abyss unto itself that forever falls
Where there is only one abundance
of artificial light and veridical darkness
Intertwined in eternal redundance
& ornamented only by sheer starkness

With the Cenobites still calling
and having such sights to show
While the bottom continues falling
and your blood never ceases to flow
The Cenobites are calling
and this secret you now know
there was never any forestalling
your descent of depths beyond below

Memories illuminate your gloom
as lost life ignites the fires of doom
Every good deed becomes a lie
and each sin good cause to die
Your infinite squandered futures
now eternal wounds that weep for sutures
So far from any life and without death
only perpetually emptied burning breath
With no words upon strained exhalations
only the silence of eternal exclamations

As the Cenobites are calling
with still darker sights to show
For the bottom continues falling
and your blood will forever flow
The Cenobites are calling
they've secrets you'll never know
so your suffering won't be palling
while descending depths beyond below

A Narcissist's Guide To Self Importance (For All You Losers That Wish You Could Be More Like Me)...

Having Noticed The Trend In Self-Help Book Sales I've Decided To Unashamedly Capitalize Upon Those With The Limitless Desire To Be Guided Along The Path Of Self-Help. I've Taken Quotes From Celebrities And Historical Figures, Random Statistical Findings That May Or May Not Be Accurate, Scientific Studies That Don't Matter If They've Been Peer-Reviewed Because They Reinforce My Points, And Other Things That Are Either Not Copyright Protected Or Utterly Made Up And Have Peppered Them Into This Life Changing Guide. Now You Too Can Be Mystified By My Personal Insights And Finally Learn How To Be More Like Me And Become The "You-est" You I Can Possibly Convince You To Be. Here Is A Chapter Index So You Can Get Some Idea Of What Kinds Of Life Changing Knowledge I Have To Ruse You With In Exchange For Your Money.

Chapter One- Why I'm So Incredibly Awesome And You Are Not (You Bought My Book Sucker)

Chapter Two- The Six Number-One Things In The Way Of Your "Number-Two" Stained Dreams

Chapter Three- The Three Simple Orders You Must Follow To Become Independent-Minded

Chapter Four- How To Put Yourself First (After Me Of Course) And Manipulate People Into Subservience

Chapter Five- Tax Havens, Shell Companies, And Other Tools For Protecting Hard Earned Scam Money

Chapter Six- Maintaining The Appearances Of Success Without Drawing Too Much Attention From The IRS

Chapter Seven- Seduction & Subversion: Sex Scams And Circumventing Charges Involving Sexual Misconduct

Chapter Eight- How To Accept All The Credit When Things Go Well, Deny The Blame Whenever There Are Problems, And Give Yourself Praise In Front Of Others

Chapter Nine- Divorce, Bankruptcy, Indictments, And Other Things That Successful Followers Of My Proven System Don't Need To Worry About When They Inevitably Go Through Them

Chapter Ten- How To Convince Yourself That You Did Nothing Wrong When You've Been Incarcerated For Fraud, Tax Evasion, Rape, Or Other Criminal Offense(s)

Chapter Eleven- One Last Reminder About How Exceptionally Fantastic My Life Is Because I'm So Incredibly Awesome And Why You Should Do Everything I've Told You Even If It Ruins Your Life, Which Of Course Will Not Be My Fault

Chapter Twelve- If You Still Don't Get It: A Brief Guide To My Seminars, Special Services, And Other Expensive Things You Can Buy In Order To Get The Most From My Empyrean Wisdom
(Don't Be On Your Own With Self-Help)

Cunctation/Revelation...

I haven't had too much to show
so I've tried to just go with the flow
but the flow poured me right down the drain
and made making my mark
just a stain

So then I damned all cunctation
that I might reach some rousing revelation

For what's a soul to do
with so much time
and so little to show?

But when I'd been making my way
there weren't enough hours in a day
to blaze trails to the lands of my dreams
or set sail from the shores of my screams
without eroding my flesh to the bone
and grinding each cheer to a groan

So I went back to cunctation
in search of some rusing revelation

For what's a soul to do
with so much time
and so little strength?

You know Rome wasn't built in a day
or at least that's what they all say
when in Rome...
Do as the Romans do
-So Cunctation may carry you through?

Is this good cause for cunctation?
Is this a real revelation?

You know these very same they
and they all say that
They say...
Good things come
to those who wait
but pure patience
just strands you with fate
and the fate of all things
is to fade
and in the fading of things
they're unmade

So is this any revelation
or just more cunctation?

What's a soul to do
with so much time
and so little...

Shoulda' Sent A Canary...

Having seen some fatal futures
the prophets predicted plague
They sent messages as sutures
for wounds mysteriously vague
Then the bloody screams came
from doves wounded and insane
"How can this be?"
"Why me? Why The..."
-no words, no words
and a canary parroted silence

Having held some esoteric elation
the poets set to speak of it in pen
Commending cause above causation
with no meaning in means or ends
With their tongues tied to tombs
their ravens wept from old wounds
"To be or not be..."
"Why me? Why be?"
-no words, no words
and a canary parroted silence

Having felt the pull of strings
the puppets pantomimed in sync
With the flapping of fallen-angel wings
their googley eyes roll but never blink
"What else will it be?"
"Aren't you looking at me?"
-no words, no words
and a canary parroted silence

All the prophets, poets, and puppets
poured down the rabid rabbit holes
ruffle feathers, screech songless trumpets,
and vanish into the abysmal coals
Fools fueling the fossil fuels
Dualists dueling didactic duels
All descending
Nothing mending
"Can't we see?"
"Must this be?"
-no words, no words
and a canary parrots silence

I Cannot See The End My Friend...

He'd been praying
for a pot of gold
while speeding along
some rainbow-ride
frantically searching
not to mine or to refine
when broken-down he cried
I Cannot See The End
again and again repeated my friend
I Cannot See The End My Friend
I Cannot See The End

Then he took to the road
freshly paved for some parade
and followed after all the lost
that marched to cadence calls
which directed without direction
until dizzied and drained he decried
I Cannot See The End
again and again repeated my friend
I Cannot See The End My Friend
I Cannot See The End

On and on like this
he jumped from mean to mean
that he'd justified by some end
but what end I've never known
though I'd often asked or told him
I Cannot See The End
again and again I'd told my friend
I Cannot See The End My Friend
I Cannot See The End

He'd even had a brush with death
A broad-stroke cloistered experience
involving a blinding light and tunnel
but after he'd revived and recounted it
he recanted the light and sighed
I could not see the end my friend
again and again he said until he'd died
I could not see the end my friend
I could not see the end

Lighthouses (Or Something About A Man From Nantucket)...

Ancient lights from far away did shine
and lighthouses did warn of woeful shores
while surveying sailors would blindly opine
that this was no cause to reverse the oars

The pirate-captain saw the tower
Light found his unpatched-eye and struck it
Then silver-tongued, he spoke hour after hour
musing his crew with jokes of how that tower
had reminded him of a man from Nantucket...

A shipwreck-saloon
now stands on the sands
where survivors are marooned

Monotonous dub-step
washes over the stranded shore
drowning-out the warning-waves
as strobe-lights pulse from vacant towers
blinding the dark and stagnant-sea

These shipwrecked-sounds
just as the siren-songs of lore
urge mariners in mass toward graves
with lyrics lamenting their murky powers
to obscure what knights could see

Sea-legs stumble upon a dance-floor/shore
as raiders scavenge for whatever booty
they can sneak out the tavern doors
while others give their last gold nugget
to be entertained by the local who-ares
that knew something about a man from Nantucket...

In a lighthouse made dim forevermore
performs a clown with this cheap old puppet
that makes castaway crowds below him roar
He drinks and the dummy sings a sordid score
or something about a man from Nantucket...

Time's Gone By...

Time's gone by, and it's sung again
as times continue leaving still
Where in these times have I've been,
and in those left to me where will...

Yesterday's one greedy shadow
and Tomorrow is anorexia today
They shred and starve times that go,
and ruin the feast of present day

There were those devoured darkly,
and there are those still starving yet
While some starkly seem so sparkly
when time's gone-by eyes will forget

Time's gone by, and it's sung again
as times continue leaving still
Where in these times have I've been,
and in those left to me where will...

The sun it rises on an on
and street-lights shine as well
illuminating more than dusk-to-dawn
like fires burning-away at hell

I suppose each raging inner-fire
is but a distant glint in times gone by
though every spark of strong desire
ignites new powder-kegs of "why"

Time's gone by, and it's sung again
as times continue leaving still
Where in these times have I've been,
and in those left to me where will...