Basic Instinct

Creeper in its life, creeper in its death

Down goes a tree and on another starts to spread

With arms wrapped around who would not see its love immense?

The only love it has is that of love for dependence

Thoughts In Brownian Motion

A thousand words

spoken in my head

together

all in a second

leave me speechless

i feel like i'm dying

but i know i will not

because i do not want to

not as yet

and yet my life flashes

before my eyes

scene after scene

picture after picture

all blurred

smeared boundaries

between the real

and the imaginary

was i awake then?

am i awake now?

whatever it is

amidst this buzz in my head

i realize

there will not be a second..

there will not be

a second this life

a second that laughter

a second those words

a second that evening

a second same sister

a second those tears

a second this second..

greed grips me

i want to collect

bittersweet nothings

panic seizes me

i realize

there is nothing anyone

can ever "recreate"

for if magic

could ever be recreated

wouldn't it then be

cold science?

it is rolling

rolling like a mad stone

and all the moss

that it can ever gather

is blurred images

of the grass

of the gravel

it rolled over

and called its own

i close my eyes

and take a deep breath

then another

and then many other

and then tell myself

that this shall pass

this shall pass

into another tomorrow

whence i will begin again

the same game

of creating images

of owning images

of playing work-work

playing love-love

and it won't matter then

that i know

what i know

for it is seldom that

the puppeteer does not

become himself

the puppet

an ugly truth

a beautiful dream

an ugly dream

a beautiful truth

whatever it is

i'll play along

as ever before

for i am

addicted...