I Prefer Not To.
plastic melts
like sugared air
and time conforms
to nothing
songs persist
through voices shared
with context
ever shifting
if only
you could walk beside me
on these planes
of swallowed hope
placid seas
would then return us
sadly
this will never be
death escaped
my hands
and left me
standing at the altar
the emptiness
received me
like a self-
inflicted wound
in a room
adorned with trinkets of trifle
faintly linking
my alter-ego
to this faux land
of vaulted heart
and vapid mind
where visions turn
away
afraid
to learn
of their inbound
inception
this blunderous aberration
has no station
nor foot
to find it steady
a cistern of depleted days
precedes each ghastly step
in protest
stranded
on the precipice
of a sempiternal impasse
surely they jest
upon questioning
assent to my depression
such pain belies
its own expression
and politesse yet stays
my tongue
To LIVE
is to have
the TRUTH
of one’s individual
PERSONAL
experience
perpetually
INVALIDATED
by the WORLD
around you
with special
EMPHASIS
on those
who ARE poised
to KNOW
YOU best
petulant plebians pandering prose
spawned out of spite from depictions composed
of pithless and petty ploys poised to appease
a princess of poisonous pedantry peeved
with patrons plucked patiently tempered by pique
their person purloined spurred by spurious speech
supinely complying peremptorily
pliable pupils impaired by erred pleas
obsequious as pavlovian lapdogs
a precedent of appalling demagogue
imparting dispatch surreptitiously reaped
to pose such a perfect impression oblique
to passively present through public dispose
promotion of disreputable depose
to please their despot’s pathetic importunes
perilous plots born of perceived impugn
sparing none, for all are prone as her pawns
through solipsist eyes of contempt and despond
Some dude I once knew told me it was imperative that I should convey the message that he loves every one of you and that he understands that each one of us is a human being each with our own infinite array of cosmically complex experiences that are not to be judged by any person, including oneself. Life is but an ever-changing series of briefly nuanced eras. Each one with its own uniquely distinct energy signature that we experience in vibrational frequencies existing only within that moment. Cherish these feelings, for the only time we may ever again be able to taste such moments is in the ethereal realm of our dreamscapes in the hypnagogic aftermath of a soporific sentience.
In spite of life’s discord and dissonance that might leave you feeling otherwise, the fact is you are loved and appreciated. We needn’t the crutch of frail words which might fail us. Our presence is one of effusive fluorescing that reaches the farthest filaments of reality. it is impossible for any matter, be it living, non-living, corporeal, or non-corporeal to traverse this cryptic chaos without the interchange of energy on a scale most prolific. Our actions, regardless of their magnitude, affect countless things. Though one might have not yet been privy to such truths, the fact is that their essence is known, loved, and appreciated by potentially infinite instances of consciousness that span a contiguous flow.
The nature of existence is the ebb and flow of all things leading into balance. It is necessary for us to disengage at times so that we may grow and learn independently of others. The journey of understanding is one composed of many companions but the processing of its components can only take place within ourselves. Please take care not to mistreat yourself, nor others. We are here solely by infinitely random chance. These forms which we inhabit are frail and susceptible to all forces including those which we are unable to see or comprehend. Every second of our reality is unique unto itself, yet, is also synced to the eternal singularity of space and time.
Let us revel in the vibrations of loving energy that inhabit this realm of sempiternity. And let us not be swayed by the happenstance of this physical plane that seems so rife with unfathomable anguish and despair. Our cognizance is born of perceptual context. We cannot know beauty without knowing its suffering. Vortical balancing is the eternal state of all things. We must allow for this truth lest we create an internal imbalance leading to the exacerbation of our own existential entropy.
Energy must be allowed to flow through all dimensions in its natural state of fluidity. When any form thereof is left to stagnate, it will manifest in toxic and harmful ways. Let it flow through you as is was meant to. Give and receive love freely but never attempt to harvest nor harbor it. Allow yourself the freedom of this cosmic coalescence. Love is the force that connects all things. This is why I can truly say that I love you and why you can know this to be true.
Let the universe flow through your soul as your soul flows through the universe.
<3 Max
a boot was lodged in my caboose
the day i shook an apple loose
from high atop its lofty perch
where once it fell i thusly searched
but though i heard it hit the ground
it seemed that it could not be found
this apple had been such a prize
it quickly became of my eye
i knew i dare not let it fall
into a den where earthworms crawl
the sound it made seemed to suggest
it landed ‘neath a nearby nest
that housed a rather irate bird
which i had recently disturbed
and as i looked i heard it mocking
dousing me with many droppings
i resolved nary a wrath
would steer me from this apple’s path
perhaps it rolled away i thought
but soon a hole found my foot caught
which sent me lunging toward a bush
brimming with thorns which pierced my tush
i looked to see my boot was stuck
when from behind my head was struck
by many discontented squirrels
in shock i watched their fury unfurl
with such profusity ne’er seen
did acorns rain upon my dream
in spite of this, i forged ahead
and trampled through a flower bed
attended by a perturbed granny
swinging as to strike my fanny
with her rake with aim precise
assailing me not once but thrice
and when it seemed that all was calm
a beehive landed like a bomb
releasing plumes of raging bees
who did not seem to hear my pleas
they stung me until i ballooned
into a bulbous red buffoon
at which point one would think to quit
but this man never would submit
i then retraced my steps to see
my prized apple’s trajectory
which much to my shock and surprise
atop the tree did it reside
with one boot on i made the climb
to reach the limb where it did lie
but as i inched along its branch
i heard a creak ever most scant
as one might guess i tumbled down
and when my bottom touched the ground
it was then met by my lost boot
with such a force it breached my chute
and to this day it yet remains
as for the apple who can say
i beg thee take heed, hear my words
lest such a fate ever absurd
befall your precious buns of steel
when apples of aplomb appeal
apppear to be just out of reach
it might prove wise to leave them be
maudlin voices
masquerade
through the night
burning
the ends
of an erstwhile
affliction
fumbling
like infants
with fervent fixation
lamenting
days spent
in a garrulous haste
to dust
turns the water
from bottles
of air
as spirits deplete
without fear
of redemption
tears
of sweet agony
gather in basins
fermenting
‘neath faceless
tombs
rapt in depart
i awoke
today.
sodden with the somber dew
felled by gross iniquity.
women, men
both elder and youth.
strangers, friends
both able-bodied and ailing.
human beings.
with goodness
of heart
and keenness
of mind.
their very freedom
infringed upon
in this “land of the free”.
for fear had stricken
fulgurant
and butterflies took to wing.
trepidation
wrested the weary.
their minds
folding inward
’til ingress gave way.
and here it is
we stand.
on the precipice
of definitive salvation.
if we are to evolve,
it is only
through love
that we should breach
the heavens.
as sure as flesh
weeps crimson,
no other fate
shall see us
through.
fear
conforms
like a secondary
skin
of vitreous flesh
enshrouding
huddled masses
in layers
of fragile
impenetrability
like a renegade
chrysalis
invading
with masochistic
avail
inviting
every failure
to impale
verity’s parables
with
pithy
regale
Max, or Not 
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