Body as my Thought

In my world full of bodies
Bodies full of thoughts, my thoughts full of bodies
And thoughts full of thoughts about the thoughts of bodies
How am I to know my thought and my body

I spend time looking at the bodies, craving for the bodies, to satisfy the body
Grooming my body to be of the perception of the thoughts of the bodies.

Bodies as memories, memories as thoughts creating my body, my thought and the resulting experience
Only to realize that the “You” come on your own terms, the you, leave on your own terms
And when I beg for you to come back and you mug me on your way back
How am I to know why am I a result of the body?

I wonder if I avoid my perception of the body, it will devoid my thought of the body
so I burn the bodies thinking that would turn my thought
only to realize that the thoughts I thought would turn, gave me more bodies to burn

So I sleep, sleep walk thinking I am awake
Thinking of awake from my sleep, I say to myself that I am awake for I can walk
Only to realize I am in sleep walk and sleep awake

No thought to think
No thing to do and no where to go
I am a slave to repetition
I tuition my mind to the repetition of abomination
Making Abomination as my true notion, as my nation

Seeking pleasure in pain and pain in pleasure
For the nectar of pain is sweeter than the emptiness
Sweeter than the no thing that I have to face

For my face has million masks to make me gasp every time I look in my own Cask
Maybe there will be a time, a moment in time to look at my time to realize that I have no time

For the You has everyone and the I have None
Maybe then, I wake up to clean up my makeup

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Survival as My Revival

For a few loaves of bread and a few grains of grub
In-between the joys of pleasure and in the sorrows of pain
I find my life I call life, I define this as my life

Enslaved to my desires
Engulfed by the objects of my desire
I make my desire my attire
And I roam the streets of slavery in the savory of my for hire

Unable to create a life on my own
I recreate and procreate on the knife of pleasure and pain

Lost in the images of imagination, I build walls of hallucination
And I deck my walls with accusations of the other

Comfort as my fuel
Comfort of Security as my duel
I burn in the flames of my own habit

Unable to open up to the unknown
I stone the unknown for the known, to the known, through the known

I trade freedom for security to find freedom through security
For I know of no freedom without security

I wonder if I am dreaming, if I am asleep
Only to realize that the dreamer and that which is being dreamed are me, one and the same
I wonder of that which I wake up to, I wonder if that is another dream within my dream of the dream

Unknown of my own known, I weave a web of a prison, a prism
Where I am the thief ad I am the police

Tired of the games and afraid of the memes and the names of the memes
Walloped by my own imagination, I no longer can gallop through my memory of life
For my life has become a few grains of grub and few loafs of bread

Survive

Survival

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Escape to a New Scape

Some wants to Escape, Some wants a New Scape
Some wants to Escape the New Scape, some wants a New Scape to Escape
For some wants a scape that is a cape to cope with the escape

In name of hate, in the name of fate
In the name of the love, in the name of the dove
I play the same game, again and again for the same gain
I say the same name, again and again for the same pain
Wanting the same thing again and again to cling on
For repetition has become my petition and my repetitive petition has become my imagination

With my hand full of experiences
Mind full of memories
I live in the thoughts with knots and not’s
For I am caught in the knot and I fight the not

My fight has become my flight
My night has become my light
And In the name of light, I take my flight
and in the name of flight I hide behind the might
Filled with might and the imagination of light, I lost my sight
For my sight has been blinded by the darkness & brightness of the light alike

Thinking this is light, I escape to another scape
A scape formed from my own memory to commemorate my memory of my repetitive imagination of the same name and the same game, Same gain and the same pain
Which I label my life

For I know of no life.

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Hurt

Hurt people hurting people making hurt people hurt more people
to distract people, to detract people

Divisions as my distractions and detractions as my provisions
these Provisions as my visions on the course of my collisions
Dividing the division of the divide within me

People come, people leave
But the Pupil that I am has become the weave for every eve
Every eve that is a heave
I may think I am here to achieve, to receive, to perceive, but I am simply naïve

Player upon player
Layer upon layer
Prayer upon prayer
I layer the prayer for the player I have become

Each pupil as a player, playing the player, playing the player of the player
Living in the fear and Forgetting the dear
I spear and smear everyone and everything near
Just to appear as a frontier, for I have lost my ear to hear, here

Me as a reflection of the entire humanity, with the deception of vanity, created this insanity, this profanity within me
For I have lost my “responsibility” and acceptability to myself
and thus to every self and shelf within me and around me

So, I let me wake up, remove my makeup
raise my cup up to share my heart up

For my heart that’s shaken and my thought that is not mistaken will awaken to become a lumen that lights and a fire that ignites.

Puncture
Distant

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