Friday, March 9, 2012

questing on a vessel
of awareness for a spark
buried in the chest of an ark
at the bottom on an ocean
called unconsicious
tiresome yearns for the isle
of earnesty and truth
beaches abundant
with grains of faith
too elusive for attachment
grasping for a miniscule
immensity,
weary for a stand upon
diminished to be hidden
by gaps, agasp for air
and the clarity of here
again at a loss to the chaos
of the unconscious toss
i return to rest ahead
upon the moss atop
the rock of reality
what more could there be
but the enlightenment of day?

Thursday, March 8, 2012

60 minutes to live?!


First things first-

I need to leave some kids.

I’ll wake my lady up,

tell her I’m ‘bout to die,

take her finger in my hand

and wipe the diamond from my eye.

For the next couple minutes,

I’ll keep the details blurred,

but rest assured and secured

the morning wood gets the bird.

And the bird gets the seed

and nectar she deserve,

I’ll make her coffee with cream

and sugar, well-stirred.

But just in case it so happens

I did not impregnate ‘er,

I’ll bust a nut in a cup,

put it in the ‘fridgerator.

“Save that for later baby,

I’m about to die,”

I tell her that I love her

‘cause I never say goodbye.

Then step outside

and start running down the Ave;

troop into the bank like,

“Put the money in the bag!”

And if the bank teller

does not wish to comply;

I’ll tell her “hurry up, Bitch!

Cuz I’m about to die!”

Then she’ll give it to me

even though I do not have a gun,

I’ll take the cash, cut ass,

and split half with a bum.

The same one that’s always beggin’

on the corner by Popeye’s,

I’ll tell him “Good Luck MuhFucka!

‘Cuz I’m about to die!”

With the other half,

I’ll drop it in the mail.

Just enough to make sure

my baby gets fed well.

Then when the cops come

I’m a jump into the woods,

and find a fat tree

where I can try to reach Buddhahood.

I’ll sit down cross-legged

and do what I can.

They’ll remember me as a baby-makin’,

bank-robbin’, bad-mouthin’ Buddhaman!

but to return to the Source

I must forget who I am,

before the hourglass gets down

to the last grain of sand

and drops on the pile

like the planet in my heart,

till my soul passes on

… silent…. as a fart.

Full circle I’ve come

on the curve of the Path,

to let my last breath

be reserved for a laugh.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

A Day's Walk 3/1/12

Armor, Mango, Shake, and BIA

fresh red & black graffiti
beneath a New Bern bridge
where Bobo the hobo gorilla
froma dream lives

Helicopter under half-moon
headed to the hospital,
WakeMed, where i was baptised
into the physical

form, a car alarm is offset
in the apartment complex across the creek
cuz carjackin's and b&e's are clockwork
where unconvicted stick-up kids choose to creep

I continue 'long a trail
paved for a pipeline of sewage
that runs parallel with a railroad
and a waterway called crabtree

these are the woods that nature lovers
treat with avoidance
for the litter on the banks
and nearby highway noises

it would seem these woods
would be sick with the excrement of civilization
but the trees grow strong
and give off excellent vibrations

i check the time by sun position
in my pupil dilation
and see she is soon to set
on human annihilation

but with no worries i proceed
in league with the spirit of the growth
taking poetic notes
on mneumonic tablets
of the wide and rounded river rocks
where the Neusok warrior
used to roost atop

now plastic bags collect on their curves
like polluted flocks

The creek runs into the Neuse river
who i follow upstream
listening to the music of frogs mating
slipping beneath 264
i find a greenway, newly constructed

Isn't it hypocritical to cut down trees
to appreciate nature?

I encounter a man building bridges,
asked him if he needed a worker,
he said there was barely enough
work for him as it is.

I continue and scale
an unfinished bridge over
blood red muck water
guppies and amphibious creatures
stir up clouds beneath the surface
stepping sideways along the beams
i make it across unscathed
delighted in how obstacles provide
the adventurer with purpose

the ways and means for the offspring
of Adam to become Awakened and Annointed
random thoughts of transcendence
blend with rap lyrics

i decide to run through the brush
until i interrupt
a mexican couple fishing in the river,
dropping a catch in a bucket