look

far into the sky
see the lines of earth
breathe the touch of flesh
run into mind
leap easy across vast mountains
dripping gems of clarity
a dew upon the leaf

-Lahmadaj

always seems so true

the earth only got to let it take you feel its breaking point

so many of those seem to worry and turn mind body into froth worms

don't let it take you too when they crawl all about frantic and suffering

self detained in prison so as to remain safe but the danger's the same

it does not change despite the cages

one will still die and the god studied through mind of dead people

will not be true will not be your god because it was someone else's

learned to draw the portrait without seeing self

-Lahmadaj

it feels

so good

to have jobs

which allow me

not to worry about money

not searching craigslist

every f. day

not thinking about the man

on the f. way

free to spend no money

will spend my mind

in freedom of this space

of the teaching

sound and innocence

little adults

not worrying about cash

laugh laugh

status

and mood

one can change these to allow others to see and know his state of existence

'yeah right

get real'

what realm is this emoticon

an imagined space

so to create a gathering of other non-existent spaces

does anyone care of the others' temperament regarding the taco they just ate

regarding the boil pained slowly on the leg

nope, didn't think anyone gave a fuck

the other is not here

i can not touch him

i do not see her face

i can not laugh with him

i see no light

there is no body

there is no embrace

no scent

there are only typed shelled words

expressing menial obligations to the man or pop

and i sit quietly

wondering when this stupid shit may suck me into the trash ball

or it already has wrapped its boredom around me tight

pulling the air away

i sit quietly

and wonder why i have few friends

and fewer loves

it may be easily my own inability

though it may be the prescribed life one claims as his own

how much of it is one's own

i suppose

the shit

the voice

the gas 

the blood movement

the bipedal stomp

i doubt any of the mind

except one miniscule fragment of light

which most contemporaries 

dress up in robes of pop culture 

and extravagance 

as though it really is that cool

as though they really give a fuck

as though they've expanded to such heights of awareness

though they know not when they've farted

or when they've burned down a youth

turn his skin into gold

we can wear it around our necks

and laugh heartily at our believed appreciation of art

of human

of the passion inside

read all about it in my status

my emotion 

my essence

the lovers know; the others blow

the night is breathing

the sun is low

-lahmadaj