Pulling at endlessly phasing funk

Strings from a magician's sleeve

Lightning in a bottle

Smashed against an unforgiving sea

Creating a rhythmic message

A map leading back to the Source

Neuronal paths diametrically conjoined

Still, I find myself passing through

daylight and dreams absent will.


A psyche in perfect chaos

Belies all believed to be true

Opposing reverberation foments unison

When done within a hermetic contusion

Voids within space

Between pauses there can be no silence

Peeling away galaxies

Like layers of sin

Without voice or name

Everyone feels their bones

But does anyone hear?


How many times have I dreamed the same dream?

Would I remember?

Or am I frozen in the seam?

Lost in the place where waves conspire

Where emergency doesn’t equal urgency

Borrow the time

To open my eyes and become

A captive catering to illusions

Eyes blistered by freedom.


Lightning in a bottle

Doesn’t repeat

Doesn’t ask for permission

Lacking the allowance of indecision

Splits ice like an infantile delusion

Formed by a big picture summation

Witness the world’s creation

Through a solitary lens.


The Fidelity Machine

Brings only seeds

Commands us to stand by

What we know to be a lie

Offering in return only the promise

Of what was already there

Our ever-present gnawing needs

Grown in the ash of a funeral pyre

Without fate to comply

Accomplishing your now

After only.


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