Prisms Inside the Void

Ti, chsh, Ts

helmsjackson — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 20:24:49 +0000

Two blocks up from the train
I had to stop and wonder why
The pulsating incarnations of
Doubt stand in my way
Like chasms in the sidewalk?

If I fell through to know
The answers would I feel at home?
Chaos takes me there.
Form is the enemy of growth.
Around the corner in the dark light separates
The blackness from itself. Love seems
So banal. Is that its appeal?

One block up from the train
I fell and the concrete
On my face felt good.
The silence of the passing
Compassion stunned me.
What’s your name?
I don’t know. I won’t
Get up until the
Music starts again and
The air vibrates and
My insides bounce
To the unrestrained rhythm.

End of set one.

Ambience, circa 1995

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 17:21:43 +0000

There is a spot in my heart called Bosnia
That has been emptied since the Serbs came
Ethnicity and religion allied to deceive me
I tried to ignore them with a blind eye
But they romp through my soul each day
Though it is thousands of miles away.
“Furget them Muslims.”
“That ain’t Amurika, half way ‘round the world.”
“Them kids dying crossing the street, hell boyz, that ain’t wurth the blud of one Amurkian.”

Maybe Adolph was right and
Appeasers in the west are mere sissies
Who only stir when you mess their wallets.

I’m so tired of hearing about Bosnia
Her children huddled in dank basements
Sarajevo’s trees burned (two winters ago.)

Victorian Shackles

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 17:19:04 +0000

Whenever I see a Georgia license plate
As a vehicle clamors by, or
After I watch the Brave play
Above the Earth before stars and sky,
As many lies I’ve heard Newt postulate
(The man is evil, he should resign)
They are infinitesimal compared to the times
That I’ve tried to rectify the denial.

Separated like the peaches pit
From a fruit more sweet than sour
A dimple no simple soul could resist
In my mind spare time is devoured
By the narcotic of your beauty (laconic yet vivacious)
Ostentatious beguiling with sardonic smiling
I cannot deny the seconds I miss
Nor the Victorian shackles of beauty and bliss.

Insouciant Toward the World’s Rage

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 17:16:14 +0000

It has been a long time in between
The feelings have never changed
My heart beats the same
Whenever I see your face
In my mind emotions rage.

I have long wondered how you feel
Innocent friendship or more to come?
My life is a fallow field
Insouciant toward the world’s rage.

Short or long your hair
Is still a goldmine for me to
Lose my way within.

As I drown in thoughts of youth
Dreams of an old age
With you pervade.

Deny Taught Reality

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 17:09:23 +0000

Traveling the path of my sight
Drenched with the weight of variety
I see injustice, avarice and degradation.
Confusion is my shadow
Stalking the expanding horizon
A notch in the intensity of conformity.

Bowing to the sum of my fears
(again at the point of renewal)
I may only imagine your suffering
Restraining the expanse of life given.
Frustrated, I deny taught reality.

Tooth Decay?

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:51:42 +0000

I asked to see the leader
And they sent me to a well
Told me to jump right on in and
Fall on down to hell.

I replied in the negative
With ample bits of glee
But yet for some odd reason
They failed in hearing me.

So they tossed me in and
Here I sit today
Rotting away
On display
For all who chose to pass my way.

(Tooth decay?)

Humans Never Sin

helmsjackson — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 16:49:33 +0000

The altruist never imagines
A killer always thinks
The leader never ravages
A ship it never sinks.

Maxims from a piece of lead
Which pours out thoughts within my head.

When upon a starlight night
The battle lines begin the fight
And as a life it never ends
So too do humans never sin.

The Image of My Thoughts

helmsjackson — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 17:49:50 +0000

Thermal but the links are broken
I saved the blade but the
Roots are mangled
Infested by the decay of ten years enslaved
I could change my ways before the nest burns
And the churning effervescence blankets
Reality with the mists of euphoria.

It is silly in there so I close the door and
Head to the washbasin of my mind.
Cleansing renewal, so I walk down the hallway
Looking at the doors and remembering the occasions.
Dirt was beautiful for a while
Her lips were sweet
Concrete confused me
As my head sprung a leak.

Some I ignore
But the images betray
My dedication to forget,
As I see the image of my thoughts:
Pulsating.
Gliding.
Bright and alive.

Where Did the Water Go?

helmsjackson — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 17:48:50 +0000

Stagnant, nascent existence dots
The discolored plane of the water’s forgotten path.
Mars surface channels cross
The dusted void I call mine.
Where did the water go?
Back home to the genesis of infinity?

Sanguinary, lonely and bereaved
(longing for the attention so deserved)
Frustrated by its intrinsic simplicity.

Beam of the Moon

helmsjackson — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 17:48:03 +0000

Steam rises off the lake as
A fowl’s figure crosses the beam of the moon.
Summer smells in the air as a flower
In the garden of devotion that
Brings back your face in the beam of the moon.
Alas, avarice has reckoned with the sun
Burning sublime, like a fresh laid mine
In the harbor of despair that
Wrecks my heart in the beam of the moon.

Atlantis had risen to the sun in the seas
While Pegasus crossed the sky
A streak in the air of my consciousness that
Longs for the acts of Thor
To bring retribution and fulfillment.