Imagination’s Questions

Do we see we are not alone,
but through perspective?
Is suffering the key to happiness’ door
on the other side of imagination?
Is suffering imagination’s key to imagine
a door of happiness, at all?
Do we live in anticipation of the future
or anticipation with the future?
Does asking questions reduce pain?
Is pain really expressions of suffering?
What if it’s questions?
What if it’s all imagined imagery?


The Sea Goat Finds The Sea

Under my sadness,

Under my woe,

Under my madness,

Under my show

there was me

wanting to glow.

I can feel me.

I can fell me when I’m alone,

walking down street to the tones

of tunes made known

to be the musical mathematics

of my life’s skeletal schematics.

I can feel and just be

a core sense of being,

looking at the Whole to see

a sight worth sightseeing.

I can feel my intuition.

I can feel the transition–

the changing of the definition

of love and it’s transmission.

I see my creativity

has it’s own phonaesthetic conductivity,

a phenomenon of its own

that is mine and mine alone.

No one else’s opinion matters.

No need for their mind clatter.

I found me

and that’s the key

to just be.


Is it a symbol?
A symbol you didn’t see before?
Is it a symbol you always saw?
Is it a symbol which means more?

Am I a symbol?
A symbol you didn’t see before?
Am I a symbol you always saw?
Am I a symbol who means more?

Are you a symbol?
A symbol you didn’t see before?
Are you a symbol you always saw?
Are you a symbol who means more?

If I’m symbolic, so are you.
If you’re symbolic, the symbol is, too.
If symbols of people saw
people are symbolic forms, raw,
sacred would be the symbolism
behind symbols, beyond law.

Alcoholic Octopus Ink (The Kraken)

The self is an anomaly of time–
a glitch in the matrix
within an unforeseen composition of matter.
We feel self within a macrocosm.
We experience being within a setting.
We know what we know,
not through knowledge,
but through awareness.
We sing letters as sounds,
seeking new modes of existence,
uncontemplated before today.
Has the Day a magnificence
that can only perturb such thoughts into Night?
And has the Night an allure
that can only produce such lines?
Where from comes exalting dizzy rapture?
Out of a blue sky or blazing sun?
From a full moon or dwarf stars?
From a symbiotic relationship
of self to all of these—
to see the pigments of Eyes?

Silence of Loudness

Isn’t it great to hear silent music?
Generating sounds that flow together,
and knowing this without even hearing them.
Just knowing –it all makes sense –in the end,
from silence within silence
to become this complete sentence
which may…
become sound waves.
Is this what life is, too?

Peoples’ Love

Some are in love alone.
Some are in love being gone.
Some are in love together.
Some are in love a part.
Some are love unnoticed.
Some are love in start.
Some are love in ending.
Some are love from heart.
Some wander in wanderlust
to the next one-night-stand.
Some wander alone, untouched,
without a guiding hand.
Some unite in marriage
to express love’s devotion.
Some unite in marriage
to divorce life’s commotion.
Some divorce when the devotion’s depleted.
Some divorce when the commotion’s needed.
Some move on to experience the self.
Some move on to experience the world.
Some stay because they don’t know what to do.
Some stay because they feel True Love with you.