I've broken my cerebral cortex

A street light shines on a bench, and a cloaked boy is wondering why a reflection in his eye makes him feel as though he should find the centre of something. A clouded puddle. A star explodes and blurrs its motion outwards, recollecting something from oblivion.

A convicted killer in her cell is slicing her wrists and writhing on the cold floor to the rhythm she'd rocked her daughter in after giving birth. Did Hawking predict that? The moon is rising somewhere, a beach darkens. An atom must be another universe, so small, so small.

She has become grey matter.
She's become useless awareness.
She's the essense of something and she doesn't know what.

The silver lining of her hair haunts me like a ghost as I crumble into catatonia, across these barren brain cells whispering strange things to me, as if she wants me to quiver from remembering the electricity of her touch.


To The Beat Poet

You fool.
For thinking you could weave yourself
into a poem that actually had any merit of meaning.

There is no beauty in colour, its just light hitting your eye.
There is no meaning in metaphor, just mere association,
like a dumb bird recognizes its food.

There is no reason to write,
surely someone somewhere has written it better than you,
saw it more clearly than you.

There is no word you can use to describe your pitiful emotions,
surely someone somewhere has felt them more strongly than you,
has suffered far more than you can scratch on a piece of paper.

There is no expansion of understanding,
no matter how much the cosmos explode,
you're still just a dumb animal thinking you're something you're not

just because you've travelled fast and talked fast over meager distances
and saw men walk on the surface of the moon,
doesn't mean you can be a poet.

But then again, who can be, if no one thinks anything is beautiful?


Drown in something worth drowning in

His smile spoke volumes of the Northern Lights. And just glad to be alive, to feel your ears crisp with the cold November air. And you realize you can't be a child anymore and cry, because what you see is so beautiful.

Syntax. Imagine a wave so large and so great that its covering the world,
cleansing all suffering.

Electric curve. An ivory dance.

Photonic dreams. Sway to a beat that no one knows.

Shiver. A rising tidal wave.

I open my arms to you. A meager dot of molecules.

Fill them with water.