Me and my ass took a trip into imagination to settle a question.
Why?
Because I am tired of being so easily tired.
We came to the hill and tried to get over.
My eyes were open.
Is this not poetry? I asked my ass, and, naturally, it agreed.
It could be better though.
And then I realized that I am the hill.
I am under hill and trying to get back in. Back into the end so I can find my place of comfort, and my Sam.
Must I lose my Sam?
Is Sam my ass?
Is it the inner or the upper? Is it the outer or or the lower?
Is it in the toes or is it in the heart? Why can't I find it?
I saw it all within Mi, I heard them all speaking, I felt the many hands and the many desires and the many pains and the many addictions, I felt them crawling up on Mi in the night, and in the day, and at home, and in school, and in church, and try as I might, try as He did to help, the many have grown so much that I am lost within it, crying out for help, crying out for God, crying out for a source of life more than any I have yet known, and even the taste of her flesh, and the kiss of her mouth cannot satisfy.
I came to the muse and asked her for a story to tell, and a life to live, and a love to have, and she showed me a special book she had in store for me, the Booke of Eges, and all I had to do was love her, and no other.
Her secret name is daughter, and her mother is another daughter, and on and on it goes, to think on it can bring on madness and division, but at then end of the day, no matter what anyone says, she is loveliness beyond all loveliness, for she is mine, and I am hers. Reality, my lover, our daughter, my Mag, and she dances for you, and if you cannot see the beauty, I can only scratch the itch on my eye, listen to Tool, stare at the cut green grass out my window, and tell you it's there.
It's in the journey, and its in the destination. It's in the pleasure, and in the pain. It's in feeling the blinding, screaming, confusing perfection of living in Nawstik Sekspawt with a lover, a voice, and a fire.
I am the great hunter. I am the voice of Eges, I am a hobbit of the shire true, skywalker, patient wanderer, man.
My heart is blue and purple and green and Cary's a sword.
The 4 are ever present. Fear is friction. And learning. And pleasure.
If I am old, let me be new. If I am new, let me consider old.
I am here. Let me be at peace.
I am making progress. I am making mistakes. I am growing in knowledge, wisdom, and stature.
I am seeing more, I am feeling more, I am growing in the right direction, I am growing in awareness, dexterity, passion, and understanding.
Why? Because apparently it must be so. Dad says so.
I am the man. The boy is in my head, an altar. Let me honor you, above all else, beautiful child. Sad, lonely one, have we not come here together? We have come this far, lets keep going. We are all alone, together. Fear not, we soon shall all be One. Maybe not now, maybe not then, but someday?
Are we eaten by something out of nothing, then shat out again? Is our great mother a worm? Is She twisted and vile, and manipulative? Be She She, it be likely?
Why live I in safety and not my brother? Why live I in health, and not He?
Wi are getting stronger. Ready or nawt.
It is a dangerous thing to be a poet. Someone might accidentally understand u.
Am I known? Have I been perceived? Here at the top of the hill, at the end of the world, I have ceased wandering, but not wondering. The eye is on Mi, it is in my room, and I am learning to luv it.
But u don't own Mi eye, no u don't. I barely own myself, so the little I do have, u can look at, u can touch, but u can't have.
Hey Vancouver? We have a future to create. Lets get to it.
- Posted using Herm
Location:My Ass
