Caught in Inception

Stale air of summer time,

Beating desert rays cooking

Thoughts we’ve thrown to the road.

I can smell the stench, and it’s


I hear the whispers and they

Tell me to run,

But I realize the futility

As my sunglasses sink to my nose

And I’m reminded of the power of the sun.


Born again

And again

And again

Man, just breathe the flowers and

Start To Spin

Under a blue sky lies most things we’ve ever known.

It’s a feeling that provides pleasure in soft times

And solace in hard ones.

Lest, of course our eyes are just magnifying glasses

Turned inward to the frontal lobe of our brain

Focusing everything into thoughts which burn

Yet it’s the sun that we turn to,

And memories which turn.


I reminisce on the trees and the creatures.

These are things I love,

for in their complexity they are simple to me,

But, oh sweet simplicity,

I beg of you,

What am I, in the light of everything,

Beneath muddled perception?

Am I just this perception?

Why can I proclaim myself with words

And yet with action I so often end up as

absence or deception.

And to solve for a solution,

My wood-be experimental way,

I’ve woven a maze

In a land of truth and mirages

And in the end,

all that’s revealed is

Ten thousand fasages.


I reminisce that much more,

That much more and I’m just reminded

That I stand on three legs and I am

Teetering still.

Ironic it is, that in evolving self-obsession

My worst fear will always be

That I will miss one minute of it all.

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