Emotions - let us be plain and clear -
only matter to yourself.
The other stands abhorrent 
seeing your face through felt,
grimaces under a tarpaulin 
where crude gestures are rehearsed.

You can stop all your emotions,
keep them from bulging ahead 
if you follow established notions 
between your thoughts and defence,
switching to electric convulsions,
a flick away from nonsense.

But if you choose to release them
to bounce off prescribed restraint
from omens of reproduction 
that others trigger and crave,
you'll have much to recover
and return to the ignorant place.

At times, when clarity hits you,
when you've seen yourself as guest 
they will show you how do others,
flabbergasted, view your strain
in the midst of spat emotion
how confusion holds the reins.

I call You, that being
like myself 
but great,
much greater than myself.
A being without my limitations 
and my pains.
One who knows my distension 
both my frontiers deep
and the gurgling my attention 
spends on reaching out to live.

I seek that you acknowledge 
at the edges of myself 
a self only I might just know
in the disjuncture that remains, 
attached to skin and bone,
to panting, daily issues
who would my life were easier
and calling you
would help, and save,
it were unnecessary, trite and lame.

I reach out 'cause the body
has gone past the little strength 
it no longer possesses,
past the pride blinding youth
believed was long, dependable
self-generated, true,
but age, knocking experience 
tell in much, much lower tones
it has reached its contrite limits,
show it calling You is sound.

I ask why is it my claim on You
is to a person, an individual mind,
why is it that I call You
as if You could, You do hear cries.
I question is it my imagination, 
is it all a farce?
But time after time, You've heard
my calls, my haunts, my plight
and in some form I can't discern
You've answered, made it possible, replied.

There's always this large space
though on occasion I feel close
to a rapport with You
that melts mind, body and soul,
that shows me in seconds split
You're there, the One I sought,
the revered incarnation, 
the kin Spirit conquering all
my cries, my calls, my reaching out 
have known its presence all along.

Why do machines retain the game?
Why can they be no more than what their screens display?
Why can they not compete, undo human ascendance?
Why will they disappoint,
return continuous loss with little…

What do you expect
when you awake?
You expect life,
the life of others,
the continuance of what is known,
the sense of coherent relation,
some movement in your bones.

What do you expect
when you wak…

I know how the power of my soul
has drawn, created many ghosts,
the beautiful, the ugly and the strong
to satisfy its urges and its body host.

I've seen h…

Beauty must be witnessed 
as does pain,
as do the myriad feelings, 
the emotions,
the realities that fill the day,
the lengths of being
only self approaches and recalls,
the elements to which it itse…

I see that plants, the greenest grass
retain the light in body and in size,
it is much like an aura, a breath of light
held in abeyance to creation's might.

I see its radiance, its bright array,
som…

A child wears the body 
as it ought to be worn,
nowhere will you descry
greater freedom or love.

Soul leans on the environment, 
body follows the soul,
moves obstacles, the barren,
discerning withou…

I want more of the same,
the sweet justice I can reach
while laying calm, my head
on your warm chest
in echoes of the breath
I knew, still know you give,
that fed me full,
food flowing through my lim…