Sundial

typewriter

My mind is a shadow cast by my soul, mirrored in conscious reflection
The price of my words compensates through direction of deflection
Mortality reigns, restrains and contains , the vitality flowing through my heart
How do I proceed , gathering what I need without knowing where to start?
Taking steps to measure the depths of my pleasure, guided by pure prescience
Desire defined, absolutely confined, deferring to obedience

Event Horizon

I’ve experienced solar psychic sub-molecular time travel with flagellating single celled beasts of being, whipped into frenzy by filamented cat-o-nine tails. The laws of thermonuclear dynamics violated by the questioning of the big bang theory. Matter and energy were once created by or for the advent of time. To conceptualize a before and after, a leap must be made from the narrow walled solitary confinement of the now.

Forget-Me-Nots

Antique Typewriter

No regrets? You haven’t lived.
I’ve had many hearts my soul to give.
Never to return and my mind still burns to make sure I will never forget.
I don’t want to die with all my money in my pockets.
I would rather spend every dime and not waste a good time.
Having fun while I’m still young and leave you memories after my living is done.

My Submissive Side

Who am I to stay awake all night talking to myself about someone else?
Do they stay awake thinking about me?
I may like to think so…
I may be right.
I do have the power to make a serious impact!
Many times I don’t even try…
Other times, I may be manipulative to protect myself.
And again, I let others manipulate me.
For me it is no game.
Even if am letting others play me.
It is only to see how far they will go.
I am always in control.

11/5/2021

Chaos Theory

Racing
One hundred and twenty miles per hour towards freedom!
Chasing after my mind as it moves always faster with integrated tape loops and primitive insight.
I’ve been up for three days already, masking my insanity with drugs and alcohol.
Half empty case of bottles in the back seat.
It’s eight in the morning and I’m halfway to Canada!
The cops won’t catch me, they don’t have my sense of timing
Synchronicity and serendipity, pure prescience.
They don’t have a chance when the world bends to my will!
Bound to a twisted fate.
I’m in the right place at the right time, all the time!
There is beauty and order in random events!