death life

amnesia

the mind split
protocol broken
room temp bourbon breaths life into frozen water.
sweat drips absorbed by skin
the apocalypse begins with a single thought
followed by a ripple of action.
the horns of the horde
echo off mountain walls.
a surreal feeling follows the imaginative mist
shafts of light heats ground.
a visualized thought
an audible spectacle
hovers a few inches off concrete
sound travels before pupils are able to register
sweat drips unable to penetrate saturated skin
ceremony music plays
heads tilt up
hearts skip
new meanings to old taboos flourish
ignored caskets fill cemeteries
blunt force trauma allows eyes to see.
mixed dna predicts an outbreak
the mind splits
protocol breaks
simple pleasures leave a fleeting impression.

the brain freeze
disregarded operating procedures
a maker talks to stones that don't melt.
hydration penetrates pigmented epidermis
the beginning of the end begins with good intentions
followed by birds of a feather.
the wails of the fallen
echo within inner drums.
deja vu follows cigarette smoke
bricks of sun line the yellow brick road.
an image
a sound
surfs on a wave of wind
mind body soul forms one entity
hydration covers saturated thoughts
the orchestra sits at attention
unable to look up
unable to hear the beat skip
old meanings to new taboos
floods a canoe engulfed in flames
truth allows eyes to open.
family lines predict possibilities
the brain freezes
disregard operating procedures
simple pleasures leave a fleeting impression.

simple mathematics

we all fucked up in the game
poor broke rich millionaires
search for the hidden breath
beats in the silent night
whispers for all who listen
morse code waits to be seen
morse code waits to be deciphered
truth waiting for the believer to believe it.

we all the same
hard knocks breaks the soul
face on windshield spell out the lesson
we need to feel it
let nerves send signals to the brain
chemical reactions dictate the tempo
children of the earth hide
under manufactured tinted plastic
facades and postures
can not mask a broken heart
a broken child
a broken soul
a broken smile
tells a tale of hope
but perfection is a fantasy
a myth perpetuated by the collective.

we all feed the hype
enable the cycle to continue
folding chairs are pitched in front of train wrecks
and each neighbor deplores the action of each neighbor
but we don't move
we don't believe
actions of one can hold back the tide
we don't believe
the power that one holds
how one molecule can cause a chain reaction
provide shelter in a storm
find faith in the deceased.

we all fucked up in the game
not knowing
we are bound by the thoughts and imagination of our own doing
not knowing...