Just another, Just another

Just another night with images and sounds and feelings and thoughts swimming around and through me with the colors dancing upon the ceiling. That dry and empty feeling when you need a drink. Sleeping sober. The madness won’t have that, so it kicks up images and memories like a child who doesn’t get his way, kicking up dirt or sand until it creates a cloud surrounding his sadness. 
Just another poemless night sitting in a dark room I think hard about the word “and” and how repetition in general annoys most people, but fuck most people. You have to drive a point home if you want it to stick, I suppose.
 “Just another notch in your belt, you say?” Coyote responds to me across the kitchen while he shirtlessly cooks lunch for us. Setting down the pipe and looking away from one of his many paintings that are scattered around the room I look at him “Yeah. Time, space, distance, none of that helped me get over her. The more women I put in between she and I however did. I put another Notch in between us last night.” The room we’re in is small but warm like an embrace. There are paintings and National Geographic’s and a typewriter and a record player and books and books and books every which way you look, threatening to overwhelm you. “Riley, It doesn’t surprise me when you say you might be a sad person.”

I died in Winter, was born again in the Spring, and died once more in the Summer.

Act I
The stage is set
White Wisconsin snow turning the landscape into grey Wisconsin Winter
Darkness
The snow, the cold snow;
Falls from above continuously
Piles high upon the lawns
Packs tight among the concrete and feet
I watch it fall
I watch this transformation from behind the gaping mouth of the garage door
Winter coat bundled tightly around me as I'm slumped in a folding chair
Preparing the Ritual
Madness Madness Madness
Inhale

Act II
"A mirror is your best friend.", I mumble as I watch you snort three consecutive lines of white powder off the reflective surface. "Did you say something?", You ask wiping residue from your beautifully shaped nose. "Nothing important. The snow is melting.", I reply. We sit silent for longer than a moment and finally you break it. "Why do you Love the drugs?"
"Do you mean besides it being fun?"
"Of course, that's a given. I asked why you Love them not enjoy them."
I look like I think hard about the question as I pick up my coffee mug and take a sip, looking reflective, but of course I already know the answer right away.
"Because there is no reason for this life, there is no eventual pay off after you die. Therefore, life is a lot of work for pretty much nothing. I guess you could call me a hedonist but it just aides in putting up with everything."
As I'm finishing my sad little speech, I take note that you are no longer there.
"You never were.", I remark to the empty room as I put the pipe to my mouth and try to forget I ever Loved you.

Act III
Exhale
My breath is heard within my head as I stare at the vibrant pastels of this sickened Illinois Summer
The smoke leaves my lungs and moves with the breeze
It's time here is no more meaningful or stimulating than anything else
I've walked through a million spider webs
None slow me down unless I allow them
The Grass. The Clouds. The River.
They all call to me
Just as the dirt below me whispers
How it always does
Selling me, telling me not to stay

Fire(d)

Paranoia holds me to the brink of destruction
Keeping me close to the flames, forcing me to fan my own insanity
"Quickly! Leave town now before anyone notices!"
Saving face, losing hope, gaining nothing, forgetting trust
I am Fire
I will consume without discretion
No matter who it hurts
No matter how fast I burn out
Fire cannot stop itself
Just weep as it burns down an honest man's house
Be secretive
Communicate to the world only through codes and messages in bottles
I am alone, an Island standing by itself
No water or food
Nothing the fires can destroy

Awakened (The Sickness Is No Longer Dormant)

Brown dead heads hide behind the brilliant yellows that stand out like a curtain call
Lonesomely alone again in the flower box bearing the rays of the day
Courtesy calls quickly calculated to excuse one's self from work today, "You see I don't want you getting sick. You're welcome actually."
While later long showers are taken and coffee drank in excess and breakfast eaten with the newspaper read
But there's no news I want to know of
Not today
Royal purple undertones brighten the day, the majestic early morning day after a short fungal conversation
While I drink my coffee and lonesome mothers converse in the background
The sexy bicyclist turns me on with her outfit and independence from fossil fuels
Where She HAS to be, I don't know but it's probably not too pressing
Golden Golden Golden is the moment removed from others
The World is not an object but many put together
That is why the World is broken when Her children are orphaned and shoeless and starving in the streets of societal expectations
Do not go forth
But BE where you are

Extinguish Me

Slow to gain speed, but retaining it once achieved it is a driving force in the night. We are all orphaned children of society, huddled around the fire shaking from the cold and the madness. Communion gratefully passed around on glass alters to our own Gods. Our own Demons. The night brings a feeling of safety, hiding us from those who fear, as we crawl on our hands and knees from daily shelter. Planted in the grass or standing one's ground, saving face while the earth spins and rotates for those with eyes that see. "Let me walk free!" He shouts while none inhibit him let alone bat an eye as he walks into the tree line, not to be seen until an entire Dylan album later. Open fields for chasing one another and one another's dreams and one another's Love, not to catch them but for the chase itself. You've already exposed yourself completely to me, won't you sing for me? Consume every resource without discretion. Let us be fire.

Release

Winning isn't what's important
I always did finish second
If at all

I want to read your body like brail
My scarred finger tips translating every discreet message
Disaster prevented, ear to the surface as if a Dead Apache

Living symbols with Dead symbolism
One explosion follows another; The shock wave builds
White knuckles. My fist, full.

Release.

I Can't Tell You The Secret, Only Describe It

The Truth, when found, is not earth shattering nor is it complex but it is remarkable and so simple it takes a child to truly know it. But isn't it children who experience true uninhibited joy? That rock you now idly kick, as you pass the time and pass the beauty around you, was a part of something much larger and monumental than yourself a millennia before you were ever thought of. I sigh but not in sorrow, but in Love of the unfathomable beauty the Mother has provided. How simple yet complex all at the same. The truth is so simple it can be forgotten. Why must one plan for the future? Do you think the Bird, the Doe, the Tree, the Weed, the Mosquito make plans for tomorrow? Just as they all live and die, we all live and die.