The Ape & Fly

a man resembles

more of the fly

than the ape…

with his buzzing,

he bustles to and fro

always getting into

all kinds of shit,

and the deeper

the better

and more forgetful

the distractions

of submerged senseless

wanderings of absurdity,

a non ending cycle of

regretful births and abortions

of the senses

and “more and more”

become the evil twin-

sisters that take residence

in his fecal abode…

Better to take

your chances

as a babbling baboon

than the busy

lifeless fly

that starts and

ends it all

in shit…

Gift

World In You

Everything,

whether fascinating

or horrifying

captured by the eyes

is nothing more

than the ignored

parts of our

inner lives…

Losing Our Way

Sometimes,

You have to fall so low

in order to get a glance from above

And at times

Be so out of touch

To grasp the real essence of love…

The Ladder

It’s like…

It’s like a 

step down the rung

of a ladder

each time we 

bite down the tongue

and pretend nothing‘s

the matter

These high rises 

no longer block 

the light in me

and these pillows 

won’t dare suppress

the screams of ecstasy 

there’s something deep 

in every creature 

that’s out to 

prove one thing-

that in the unthinkable, 

the forsaken, 

the downtrodden,

something unimaginably 

beautiful can grow

That’s your Cristo

That’s your Moshiach

and every transcendental 

matter of the soul…

CROW

What freedom can one attain
when doubt riddles the brain
and the mind becomes both
the lock and key
to fasten or break the chains?
The soul is a blossoming flower
filled with an endless reserve
of will power
and grit
and grind
when left without a way
it will burrow deeper still
and find
a reservoir of freedom
The hell to all the people
and things that bound us
to believing we’d
always need them
to come to love oneself
in youth, a rarity
and midlife- a scarcity
but to reckon the matter
in a final breath
when the only thing
to appease is the certainty of death-
now, that’s living…

Arrive

I took many 

snapshots in 

my striving.. 

and now 

finally arriving

I’m dying to 

recapture 

those moments

when it was 

just you and I…

The Cure to Anxiety

what a relief to find 

that the demons

inside us never die

they only lie

fattened belly up

dormant in satiety

from hashing out 

inconceivable 

ass-kickings

while we flex, flaunt,

and flip

playing the fools

thinking the worst

of it has been

whipped…

the monster you

trampled, 

only played dead

it smirked underneath 

the bloodshed

of an immortal 

battleground 

where our

most salient foes

go away 

and always come 

back around…

the cure to anxiety 

is loving 

the ongoing 

encounter of combat… 

Overdose

There’s no antidote 

for the love cripple

to be a wandering breast

in search of the nipple 

knowing if it was ever found 

it will stave nothing 

the beautiful thing is taken 

the purest life, carried 

the one for us, married

pillows cover the head 

wishing for another lover 

instead 

Only if it had been known 

that you’ll never feel as high 

as the first time you loved…

a flaming knight on a pink cloud

silently overdosing on a memory

Satis

It is right 

to envy 

a man 

who has 

too much

but even 

better 

to pity…

for he 

with the 

protruding ear

who hears 

too much 

is plagued 

by an

unceasing echo.

and an eye

uncensored 

burns at 

the inescapable-

and vision

becomes the 

ingrained 

evil twin 

of perception

but a mouth

unsettled 

that gorges 

on timid 

ears and eyes,

is the sorriest 

peculiarity of all

it is the 

sly thief 

of straight roads,

the dawning horizon 

of listeners 

and visionaries