lies upon lies.

building upon a foundation of nothing
the artisan's work collapsed.
surprise?--no, it makes sense.
for one cannot build something on nothing,
even if nothing has a facade
a veneer more glorious than even reality.
but that's what i did, foolishly misled
by the lying face of nothing, your nothing.
and though i tried to manifest
this nothing into something, still it
remained blank.

and nothing has changed, except now--
this tower has come crumbling down,
babel! babel! irrational belief in
nothingness.
and now up is red and down is eight
for nothing makes sense and we are all
from sodom, from gomorrah, and babel
and russia and england, and cultures
crash. the mafiosos line up only to vanish,
all because they lived their lives on this space
reserved for nothing but lying about everything
a regular siren.
but now the rock is on top and the siren beneath
so that all is an extension of the sweet song
that leads us astray.

epiphanies lead nowhere--realizing this limbo
is just that and nothing more is too much
and so we return to sodom and babel
to be who we were, ignorant and joyous;
puppets of the great mafioso in the sky.

untitled.

Love is not as uncommon as people want to believe. It doesn't always involve some elusive "one and only," or a soulmate. Love... well, love is something that can affect us on a daily basis. It's something intangible, an outmoded stigma. It's a primeval ideal, an ephemeral excuse to find meaning in this tragic world. You see, love can exist on so many different planes and levels. I can met someone and love them the instant I meet them, and then I could fall out of love with them just as quickly; or, it could take days, weeks, months, or years to love someone. What I mean is, there's no love more significant than any other. Love is love, it comes and goes. But what makes it appealing is the possibility that it remains, and that you can keep keep a consistent love with a consistent person forever, into the abyss of eternity. That's what is so appealing about love. Eternity. The possibility of forever.

Now some may say that there is always an end. True, there is an end to every relztionship. But love is not a relationship. It is a feeling, an emotion, a state of mind. See, relationships all end; we all die, our bodies rot. But the idea of love, the feeling of love - that can permeate throughout the universe for an eternity. That mad passion is like the light of the soul. Light never stops traveling, it bends around time and space, it's a constant, and it continues onward.

You know... you look up and see a star; in many instances, the star you see is simply light that was emitted thousands or millions of years prior. That star has a good chance of being dead. But, we still see that star, as radiant as ever, as beautiful as it was in its prime, because the light - its core - still permeates he empty crevasses of space. We still can see and feel its undeniable rapture.

And so is love....

fragments of hope.

[i]

On the brink of redemption,

Ready to fall over the edge in

Anticipation

Of the future.

[ii]

Torrential rain

Defiles the saints

And cleanses the sinners.

[iii]

Like a bird

Caught in mid-flight—:

Drifting into a limbo of

Light and darkness.

[iv]

The phoenix soars, born again,

Only to smolder once more,

Forever more.

[v]

The albatross flies

Alongside the eagle.

Hopeful and forlorn:

They embrace the sky

In a dark, vivid storm

Of passions.

A swan among ducks.

To whom do you look when even the heroes are gone,
Hidden beneath the idleness of a corrupt society?
As the world of tomorrow slowly engulfs us,
The truth is distorted through the prism of hatred.
What once was cooperation has now become hostility.
This “free society” imposes upon us a greater censor
Than ever before, a disease that infects us all.

Conformity.

As we all become one and one becomes all,
The destroying of cultures will surely be our downfall.
Forced to fit the mold of mediocrity, as our “flaws”
Are hammered out of us: we are purified as a steel tool.
Those of us who escape this process, this great,
Universal, Bessemer process, become defunct in the
World of Big Brother.

Cygnus inter anates, as they say;
The Ugly Duckling.
And you will be shunned,
Excluded from the truth you
So desperately seek.

mankind.

To the stars they look,
Seeking escape from the darkness.
"I want to get out," they say,
"Away from this trap."
They look to one another
For guidance, support, love --
Their efforts are futile.

Only the poets find solace
In the stars and in the words.
The great minds are sacrificed
To the tyrants: Envy and Hate.
Their teary eyes glitter
In the light shed by the stars, those
Seemingly perfect, mocking stars!

O, Envy! Why do you stifle?
Why do you destroy us?
Alas, the truth cannot be
Found in the minds of man;
It is found in God.

God is Envy: God is Hate.
He looks down upon all of man,
His creation which has
Surpassed His greatness;
Tainted His perfection.

And the stars, too, were his,
Those instruments of torture
Laughing back at us from the
O'erhanging firmament; it is a
Pretentious façade for His jealousy.
So man strives to reach the
Stars, to break the lie
Once and for all.

They say: Tell me what to do,
Since I am a man in love with the stars.

And God laughs:
Man delights not me.