When I’m calm,
My only responsibility is show up,
I become aware of the myriad of ways
One can (verb) down the street.
When I’m calm,
I taste the deep sea of creativity,
What exists before existence existed me.
Time is a Mobius strip made of pain
Nature is a seed of the archetype is the tree of a seed.
When I’m calm, the depth of this moment has at least as many tributaries as my veins to artery ratio.
There is quiet where once was the imprint of a grotesque fantasy, the kind of day dream only fear can feed us, which for some reason feels more real than possibility.
We don’t care to admit that we enjoy the taste of blood. It drags us back to the dirt when we forget we are not just walking heads.
When I’m calm, I trespass silently so as not to wake the beasts.
It’s only a matter of time, I mumble. It’s only a matter of time.
If I’m not thirsting for flesh or as high as a kite, just where in the world am I?
It feels good, not to rock or to roll, but to watch from backstage, like a bird of prey.
The mask is my own creation, thank you darling, I tell the sweet faces at the ball in the dancehall of my imagination. It is made, thank you for asking, of trial and error. I am a player on a stage, a dancing mirror, you’re so good at showing me what you expect from me.
Alas, 2017, I want only mirrors surrounding me, reflections of forever in my true loves eyes.
Goodbye 2016, thank you for your demons.
When I’m calm, it is the moment I flow down the Mobius river of time and his mother inifnity.
There is availability in the spaces between bouncing, an illusionist knows how to beguile the mind, to turn it away from something or somebody. If it glitters it’s gold.
They are Alice’s multiverse characters that decided not to follow the White rabbit. They are the White rabbits who never arrived.
When I’m calm, we are only potential.