Finding the way

Finding the way

Sitting in Tavistock Square
Deciding whether it is
The correct measure
To be making decisions
On how to handle
This situation

Yet at the same time
Feeling the threat
Of missing opportunity
Because of deem-acting
The syndrome of change
Must occur

What we seek
Has been found
As expected
As usual
In the form
We try to escape

Free people
Float out
Resist returning
Only confirming
And instilling
The reoccurence

Saddening in thought
Deep and familiar
In impact, yet
Circumstances remain
Leaving purity
And shared knowledge.

Incel

Incel

The question begs
Why perform an action
Not conducive to motion
In the direction
Of your desires

My will is sleeping
It too needs to rest
Only now occurring
Is the thought
That I’m being bluffed

It’s fatigue
When I need catharsis
Instead I change seats
Unaware of the facts
Random stochastic acts

My internal logic
Is wired backwards
Approaching chaos
Then I hear the voice
Of the ex waitress

Choosing another seat
Her words having been elsewhere
Navigating a torturous route
My senses tell me
What was that?

You want to sit with me?
You’re new here?
There is no communication
I get lost in thought
Trying to pinpoint her accent

Space flies

Space flies

If time can no longer be spent
What is left to do right now
Whilst contemplating the future?

Accordingly it stops approaching
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned money.

Turning around at this juncture
Opens more questions than it closes
The past can fend for itself.

Instead I cleanse myself of resentment
And pay hommage to its acts
Having kept me burning bridges.

From here then, I’m frozen in time
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned space.

Dominant structures

Dominant structures

Soft tissue
Interconnecting nodes
Activation levels
Electrical chemistry
Amalgamating matter
Based on repetition
Based on imprinting
Frequency conditioning
Intensity defining

Can I learn my way
Out of this box?
Inside it’s complicated
Less capable than capacity
Insufficient to grasp itself
More responsible than I have to be
Less deserving of redemption
Yet hot in its pursuit

More to show for it maybe
But why make responsible
An organ so open to influence
A shot of drugs
A hit of alcohol
I meditate deeply
Falling inescapably

Domestication

Domestication

You’re too cold sometimes
Blinding me to the chances
You’ll ever give my soul
The gentle, warm-handed massage
It tends to want to need

But that may not be it
Or at least not all
What if there’s suffering
Involved in finding out
Is it worth our while

You need a person
And I need a horse
You’re wild and untamed
And I seem capable
Of fulfilling that role

Speaking of such
I admit I have a whip
But not that I use it
Except perhaps on me
When I find myself asking

Those same questions again
Should I stop it here
Although more often why
Would I not resolve this
Like I do other problems

Thing is this
I lose interest
And gain lethargy
In a cycle
Time is but a mediator.