I was born into a beautiful world

you see
it’s all going to end

so
the pain of dying everyday

the suffering of enduring

the horror
of the vulnerability
of loving with an entire heart

will all come to an end

and you are as painfully beautiful.

hurt it
say oh
oh oh
ohoh
oh
oh oh oh
say oh

hurt it
say
ohh ohh
oh
heard it say
oh oh
oh oh
oh

Ten thousand
endless moments
repeating in my memory
cineplex mind
matinee memory theater
going on
i see things like that
i have a good filmic eye
i see things unique
like quiet non events
as artful happenings
filled with more meaning
than a fancy play
full of themes
and conflict.

i love you like there is no other
and i cant even tell you
because
i know you don’t love me the same
you’d be better
with someone
who was more like
how i never want to be
i’d rather be myself
and lonely as hell from it
than pretend to be
someone i’m not.

I reserve for you
the same love i have for the world
but i’m starting to feel more love inside
for the victims of genocides in Africa
than i am for
any kind of hollow unlasting romance
that i could have with someone
that doesn’t care about me.

i’m hurting.
my loves going nowhere,
bouncing off the walls i put up to protect myself
from another heartbreak
my love’s trying to take down the walls
like a game of Arkanoid
busting it out brick by brick
each ugly poem
i write like this
is a superball
worth 1500 points
that takes out a bunch of bricks.

I cant wait
to annihilate
i cant wait
to die
like even stars do
i cant wait to turn
back into cosmic dust

i was burst apart

thats where i’ll fucking be
until you forget about me
i was happiest
when i was cosmic dust

when i become a faint memory
tell your mind
its playing tricks

you never knew me
and it’s my shy
self-destructive fault
because i want to disappear
my existence as
matterless
as the vacuum of space
i wish i was back in the cosmic dust cloud
where i wouldn’t feel so much
for beings
who don’t love me

i could pour my heart out for you
like an infinite river flow,
if only you fucking loved me.

I have nothing beautiful to say anymore…

look at me
looking holy
holding
a book of blasphemy
that looks like a bible in my hand
because i removed
the dust jacket
and the binding
was all black
while working the A/V
for a Catholic convention

I didn’t want to
advertise to these
people
that i was reading a book of
SOOTH!
I had checked out the literature
on display at the convention,
one title stuck out to me
“The Problem With Harry”
referring to Harry Potter
and his tales
of sorcery and satanic blasphemy.

i have to dress in all black
on every gig,
so now
all i’m missing is the white collar,
and i’m walking around this place
with a book of theoretical physics.
I swear i didn’t do it to be ironic,
it just happened to be
the book i’m reading at the moment.

A black book
biography
on the man
who has a plan
to make a time machine
out of laser beams.

No one approached me
to talk about religion.
I appreciated that.
One really religious kid asked me,
“Hey, what are you reading?”
“A book about time travel.” I said.
He smiled and nodded not knowing what to say,
and i smiled at him and stuck my nose in the book.
I was ready for the next question,
‘Have you ever read the bible?’
to which i was ready to respond,
‘Yeah, that and the Koran, the Bhagavad Gita, the dead sea scrolls, Buddhist texts, and even read some stuff on Raelianism and Scientology.’
But he didn’t ask,
probably cause i was already back to reading the book.

I’m this creature of pure love
holding it in
because no one loves you
when you love them
they take it as weakness
mistaking my kindness for weakness

I’m a fallen angel
from the Catholic church
I’m a saint
that left the flock
and now
i’m a lonely
Buddhist wanderer
God I’m so much like Jack
my grandpa
and my teacher Kerouac
I feel like it was the work of God
that put me through
sheer coincidence
there
teching the a/v for the
Catholic youth outreach
and i don’t mean that
in a perverted way
like those filthy bastard pedophile priests.

I’ve got to be on my own way
to truth, knowledge, and God.
I don’t need to see you
like they did in the dark ages,
i appreciate the message
and you know
of course
my poem is always my supplication

I would never want to harden my heart
no matter what I say
even though
at times
i wish it were a little harder
feeling so much more inside
than
neurons
firing off in this body
in this universe
its all just temporary mechanics
for the evolution
of the soul.

Going on a Buddhist trip
wandering this world alone
leaving a trail
of poems behind
when i die i wonder if i
will be born here again.

i feel like
i’ve lived lives
before this
where i never
had the chance
to develop love
inside
i might have died
in a dogfight
during one of the world wars
a young ace
getting off on killing enemies
of the human race
downing planes
in great air battles
and it was a bold move
when i was on recon
and decided to attack
a formation of bombers
guarded by fighter planes:

i let out a stream of bullets and immediately the first bomber smokes and rises
and falls to the earth.

i let out a stream at another bomber

the fighters scramble down at me
i can hear their engines screaming
WERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
and see their tracer rounds flying all around

i stay on the bomber and it starts smoking
and i barrel roll from the bullets
and pull up
and climb as they dive on me
and pass me by

i loop and dive on them
and open up my guns

they break in all directions
up
down
left
right
diagonals.

I was fucked.

So i remembered what Sun-Tzu taught me:
when death is inevitable in a cluster-fuck
focus on killing the enemy before you.

And so i pick the plane that pulled up and start leading him with my stream.
my rounds pop him good and the fighter starts smoking.

then i hear a loud pop inside my plane–

a little past life regression poetry
who the fuck knows you know?
place my self in a different time
and different circumstances
i most definitely
would do something like
try to take down a formation
of planes myself.
without a cultivation of any kind of love,
i would have nothing to live for except the thrill
and sport
of fighting and killing
and the glory of dying in battle.
It’s all i have to live for
now
i have nothing to fight for
no one to die for
except myself

and i
almost did it again
in this life,
almost played baseball for life
almost went to war
almost kept myself from evolving
almost
but…