**to the spoil

i behold myself
as my real, soulful self and
i'm looking back
at what caused me
to be me.
i'm reading myself sitting as her shadow
sitting within the looking glass
and at the window
to relive memories:
this is why i act the way i am?
this is what stirred me?
these are the languages i have spoken?

i think about my ability to feel
i think simply
about the ability to feel:
it is a challenge
at times
(even as the fishes)
they conquer like our leaders:
for the hell of it!
now,
cookie,
hows your fortune?
which words
have you picked out of the ocean
to put down fancy
on that little
piece
of paper

something vague
something ignoring
(even though i put it in a poem)
something
like something's GOT
to
give.

I'M SCREAMING WITH A MIND ON MY TONGUE
i'm tripping
and screaming for the trip
i'm practicle.
insane logic like born you the genius
born you a brilliant sun,
born you.
shine on.
the world is in need of art.
i apologize for being unable
to participate

i'm giving up the cosmic ride for sleep
infortunately
i just can't stand
with
it
like digging my winter-hole
before it gets too cold:
I WILL DIG DEEP
I WILL CRASH AND WAKE UP WARM
i'm going to make myself have it all
because i want it all

i'm going to invade
i'm going to war
peacefully
to be foolish
selfless and selfish
and in extreme craving of want
desperately
for love

the war is never that universal
but shoot yourself across the world
for words
cos i'd read it.