*at heart I am a mystic/driven by the Spirit*

Bliss taunts me
From the other side of the mirror
Where I've seen those heavenly shores
Imagination clothes brilliance
It is enough
More than enough
It is everything and all things
Nothing and anything
To inhabit as a world of my own
Satisfied in the simple observance
Yes I've basked in the glow of ethereal Oneness
The memory keeps me running
On the promise of reconciliation
And this I believe:
From One I came
To One I shall return
Let all that stands between
Remain as it is, what it is
That I may give it all away when the time comes
And I have Someone to give it to

from Bipolar Confessional

Phong's Absolution

Phong hit the ground
Within a second of the sound
Of the gunshot that laid him down
Loosened the grip on his own weapon
At the moment of impact
It fell with a thud
Next to his body in the mud
When his head hit the hard earth
He heard thunder and saw light

The bullet in the North Vietnames man's skull was made in America
Loaded by The Poet earlier that afternoon
Along with the rest of his ammo
In the second after Phong died
Poet lowered his sight
And came to an abrupt and awkward halt
There was no denying the man was hit
Even less to prove the man was dead
The hole in the back of the metal helmet
Was the same size as the hole in the back of the dead man's head

Instinct bred caution even so
As The Poet slowly tread the fifteen yards
Between where he stood and where Phong lay
He crouched down
Rolled him over slowly
Placed his fingers on the corpse's eyelids
(I know you can see me)
Shut them gently
(May the darkness be your savior)

The Poet took the bayonet knife bolstered at his side
Pressing down on Phong's shoulder
He cut an incision between the man's chest muscles
With a gentle sawing he cut through tendons and bone
Until a trough had formed
A six inch baptismal filled with blood
Still almost warm as life
The Poet plunged his left hand deep into the pool
Grabbed hold of Phong's heart and tugged
He caught the resistance of the arteries
And severed them
With the knife in his right hand

Raising the dripping organ to his nose
The poet inhaled deeply the strange odor
Inspiration teased
Quickly The Poet brought Phong's heart to his mouth
With a huge bite his mouth was full
His brain felt as it would explode
The drama and the dreams of the whole world
He chewed and savored the flavor
He had come to appreciate it during his time in the jungle
As well the firm gelatinous texture
The saltiness of the blood
This was The Poet's reward

With the last swallow he wiped his hands on Phong's shirt
He felt a piece of paper folded in the right pocket
A letter, written in Vietnamese
And though he didn't know the language
Somehow a few sentences made sense

"Confessor
My soul is tormented
I am a liar
My wicked heart has made me do despicable things
Words and actions without regard
Of consequences
Things that would hurt people, if they only knew
If they knew what I have done
They would rise against me and do murder
I would deserve whatever punishment they saw fit
For I am a renegade poet
And I have lost all respect for the art"

As he finished reading the page
The Poet felt nausea in his gut
He dropped the paper
Bent over and vomited
He heaved several times until his stomach was empty
Then he just stood there, hands on knees
Staring at the mess
(I have a message for all mankind)
He forced himself to look at it
Until inspiration left him

He reached for his gun
Stood up and walked to Phong's rifle
Bent to pick it up as well
Strapping it to his side
The Poet walked away
As a gentle breeze blew the confession
Far from Phong's lonesome body

- from Bipolar Confessional

Prophet

He didn't live in darkness
It was the light he couldn't bear
Illuminating the futility
Exposing the reality
A world full of selfish people
A trait of the species
Darkness would have been his friend
To hide the truth he could not deny
Obfuscate lust, greed and pride
Survival of the fittest, hey that's alright
Instead he proclaimed humanity's state
Without the hope of even temporary escape
Grim as the Reaper knocking at your door

A car crash aftermath
You can't help but slow down
Turn to see what's there to see
But not for long
The guy in front of you slowed down too
(We've all the same hard wired brain)
Lest you find more than you thought
Not turn back in time
And rear end the other guy

He found ways to sing of loneliness
Despair given a melody
Between the look in his eyes and
The tremble in his voice
He could sell it to a poor man
He was no faker
As real as the sun
That will burn out the eyes of the one
Who gazes too long
At it's blazing light
From light years away
Giving decieving darkness
For the moments you bask in it's glow

The burden was too much for his skinny back
More than the weight of many worlds
He fell beneath his own weight
To him the logical response
But not to me
And not to you
Regardless the empathy and solidarity
How he seemed to have read our mind
Known our story, all our years to now
But he never knew the ending
How I wish it would have been his too
ESCAPE
From the blinding darkness and the piercing light
My third eye has been blind
Open it, Lord
Show me the reason
And I will sing your song

Suspicion

Creeps up to me like a serpent
Exaggerating, hissing white lies
Subtle black magic weaving
Uncertainty
Makes me read between the lines
For accusations from straight out of nowhere

I'll get over it soon enough
Cut the snake's head off
Find a way to make it right
With only my thoughts for company
If I can keep them in line
If I can stay sane
If I can overcome
Suspicion

This is the part of the film

In which the glass is filled with sand
Minutes into hours, as full as is allowed
Waiting for someone to come along
And turn it over again
Or break it with a hammer
Grains pouring out with shattered glass
The smashing blow of destiny

Impermanence
Life's greatest lesson
Is the most difficult to learn
Almost impossible to embrace
Until one realizes the value of freedom
That nothing lasts forever
Is good news indeed

- from Bipolar Confessional

Relapse & Restoration

You get hungry for the way it was
           Even though the way it was
Killed you slowly
                    slowly broke you down
             Killed the part of you
Kept apart from everyone else
           part of the past you won't let die
When the best you can do is help it die
                                         do it
  Drown the voices, I'd do it for you if I could
                                                            and I can
You only have to know the difference I can show you if you let me
You take all your selfishness and fascination with evil
You take all your anger and anxieties
You take all your fears and misconceptions
You take all your judgment and hypocrisy
                               you see it's all hypocrisy at the core
     That's keeping you away from doing something about it
                  We're all this way
           When we all recognize it we can move to the meat of the murder
                Stuff it all inside a golem, chant a few prayers
Even your dead god listens to that chant
          Small case god just isn't the One that can hold it under the water
            Not strong enough, not long enough to keep it under
                                                                It's got to be held under forever
                   Before it loosens the grip it's got on you
              But the right hand, the right chant, can you tell me what's next?
Struggles and bubbles, muffled screams, it was you but no more
                          Murdered that illness, left it on the ocean floor
     Only an illness, no demon or serpent crawling on the floor
  We're killing it with chemicals, ripping theses from the door
  We're tearing them up
  We're throwing them out
  We're never going to hunger again for the
                                                                            way
                                                                                    it
                                                                                       was

from Bipolar Confessional

Pushing the Wall

We're pushing up against a wall
Rain thrown like bullets in a storm
Pelting
Stinging
Burning for something just out of reach
A patient moonbeam
The sound of unfamiliar animals, wild
Huddled beneath the pouring water
Sheltered by alien trees
Push, push, though it never gives
We are here to push

They are gathering again
I can hear them through the whispered breeze
Speaking in tongues, rattling swords
Waiting for the clarion call
Here she comes, baby, here she comes
Hear their marching feet
The war songs so beautifully deceiving
A company of angels
Armed for an onslaught
Unfamiliar animals

How did we wind up here in the first place?
That's all I'd really like to know
Airplanes and cannonballs
Relative oxygen
Hark, I can hear the battle horns
A mournful bellowing
Signifying
Victory
Cracks in the wall

Dances for victory, dance with the enemy
Yes, they see our fear
Empty and they soon fall and run
Busted by confusion
Just lay down, be still, they may not see you
Try not to breathe
It's not that hard
It's not so hard

Maybe we'll get lucky this time
The wall surely will relent
Sing like a bird, woo-hoo
Kill two with one stone
Get lucky, this is the time
This is the place
Throwing sevens to the wind

And I'll never be so easy to read
And I'll never be your tough nut to crack
And I'll never be a grounded lightning rod
And I'll never be caught in a loop
And I'll never be anything but me
Me is all I'll ever be

Funeral procession crawls down the sidewalk
Carrying bodies tied to chains
Dragging them to the cemetery
Mumbling prayers, saying them backwards
That's the language the devil understands

How long and how far?
How are you forever?
Back and forth, my love
Feel your love forever

Breathe in, breathe out
Listen to the rasp
Start counting

Of course I don't know what it means
Do I look that smart to you?

Some push with their backs against the wall

from Bipolar Confessional

For the Muse

Another day to drown in sound
Arms open, legs still, no struggle
I just drink it in then
I breathe it in then
I sink to the source
Where vibrations toll new tones

And I was Quasimodo, rope in hand
Ringing bells louder than the life I live
Sound pushing waves of air into me
Knocking me over, shaking my guts
I couldn't hear the sound of my own laughter
Or the screams of my ears bleeding

And I was lost in space, doomed to die alone
In silence
I did not realize silence could be deafening
A vacuum pops the only thing breaks is
I stopped talking to myself yesterday
I was driving myself insane

And I believed all music was from God
As He said
He would comfort me with songs of deliverance
And I may have been fooling myself
But I believed God was in all music
I still believe that

Open the gates of heaven, the first song I hear
Will be the best song I ever heard in my life
Peter will ask me what I think and I'll tell him
Then he'll tell me it's the weakest track on the record
"Wait until you get to the middle"
That's how I'll know I'm in heaven

from Bipolar Confessional

For the Doubter

Thomas
Behold My side
Stick your hand in deep
Explore the spear's wound
Feel it
Touch it
Squeeze it like slick, glistening labia
Reach in further
Grab hold of whatever you can
And
QUICK!
Pull it out
You can have it
I don't need it

Enough of generic songs about simple things easily understood. Let someone else bring the good vibes. I wanted to ask the eternal questions. I wanted to float some possible answers by you.

from Bipolar Confessional

On Water

The man who walks on water
Understands gravity's pull
The murky liquid ripples and hangs
On the feet of the bravest of sailors
His courage falls him
The lightness of being
Takes on the weight of the world
If not for the outstretched hand of example
He would sink to Leviathan

from Bipolar Confessional

Impasse

Forgiveness
Is the only thing
Keeping me from you
And
You from me
I know I hurt you
You know you hurt me too
Forgotten transgressions resurrect
And breathe like Lazarus
On a bad day
Angry at being awakened
From dreams and visions
Of nothing at all

Will the healing words
Of Him who commanded the dead man rise
Have the same effect on us
When we hear Him call us by name
And tell us to leave behind
Enemies of love
To defeat them
Without mercy
With
Forgiveness

from Bipolar Confessional

nails and wood

gotta go and get a gun
put a bullet in it's head
squeeze that fucking trigger till I'm sure
it's good and dead
should have been done a long time ago
should have been done a long time

push a little button send it
back where it belongs
i ain't coming back until i
know it's good and gone
should have never been done, my friend
should have never been done

gotta put it down before it
blows up in my face
now i know there ain't no use
in trying to run away
don't know what I was thinking, girl
don't know what I was thinking

nothing left but trouble if I
don't act pretty fast
nothing is forever, mister
nothing ever lasts
gotta find a way to move on now
gotta find a way to move on

looked for it in the mirror but
all i see is me
and that ain't even who I am
what should i believe
gonna hang it on a tree tonight, son
gonna hang it on a tree tonight

euthanize then eulogize
won't be much love lost
do the crime and do the time
it's how we count the cost
nails and wood, that's all
nails and wood

from Bipolar Cofessional

Love's Easy Demanding

Love demands the strong embrace
The firm pressing of flesh
To explore the contours and subtle lines
With eyes, heart and hands
Forests and constellations to map out
Legends to calculate

Evaporates without the words
Or eardrums to beat them down
To play ring-around-the-rosy
In the fertile field of the brain
That seeks their comfort in every sense
Deaf, dumb and blind spirit

For love's a blinding supernova
Incinerating all who approach
Hungry for physicality
A moon to measure it's movements
Though that satellite be
Lifeless cratered rock

from Bipolar Confessional

Reckoning at Days End

I deserve this
Don't I?
It was my battle to win
In a war far from won
Who will take my reward from my arms?
Who would squelch the music in my ears
Or explain it's virtues with cold theory?
I have seized the moment
The day I have called my own
Will the morning sunrise expect me to be content
With victorious yesterday
Will the calendar's relentless trajectory
Put me back in my place
A paradigm of depression where I've convinced myself
I belong
Doomed to breathe borrowed oxygen
Or will chemicals and sleep
Ease me into another easy day?
Who among you would take that away?

from Bipolar Confessional

Monument

Now lay back and forget
All the days that brought you here
Or make a mental monument
Of hours painting empty skies
Of moments lost in wondering why
The colors bleed without the rain
To wash the canvas dry
Still they run, these memories
Together make a life
Flesh and blood for ghosts and stone
To wear out for a time
'Til entropy's harsh design
Leaves nothing left behind
That wasn't there before
The beginning of time

Good intentions buy nothing
In the formless space of this machine
Not even the soon forgotten happy dream
Comes without a sinister scheme
Dead weight of nothing, heavier than air
To the fish caught on the hook unawares
This monument would grow so large
There wouldn't be room anymore
To notice the moment before it passes
To find your way through to the door
That opens unto forgetfulness
Cursed but just as often blessed
So let it go, lay down, forget
You haven't really even started yet

from Bipolar Confessional

Denial of Mirrors, Twelfth Stage, Second Attempt

Wipe the slate clean
Abandon preconceptions
I will prove your reflection a lie
As you turn to face the other way
As you turn to face another day
Don't you regret not being able to forget
When the harvest of your ego
Piles worthless memories at your door
More and more, how could there be more
Dismiss the reaper, send him home
With his razor sharp sickle so finely honed
Tell him "Leave me alone! Leave me be and go on!"
No longer scared of his skeleton bones
11:11, this must be the time
There must be something you need to be reminded
But what, that's the rub, where can you find it
Can't feel it or hear it or smell it or see it
And it travels the speed of light
Close your eyes and catch that flight
Dream your world and see the sights
Magical tygers burning bright
But no souvenirs, travel light

(from bipolar confessional)

The Other Side of the Pool

The angel stood on bowed knee

Waist deep in the shallows

His right hand cast miracles into waves of water

Threw ripples imbued with magis

Stirred and splashed until healing came upon it

Until the entire pool of Bethesda shimmered like glitter on the wet heat waves of the sun

That's when they all began to jump in

But could not linger long

The moment healing settled in

It's out of the pool, to the Temple song

But you stood still for so long

Watching the wretched washed

Cleansed of their sins

Whole of body, whole of mind

You never knew what that was like

You didn't know what that could be like

You would have stood there until the bubbling waters stilled

Cheated out of your mindful abundance

Had I not an incantation of my own

So I chanted "Pura Deva Honey Madme Plath "

Words of pure nonsense I knew

You'd take them as a cryptic challenge

Meaningless but they sounded right

The sheer repetition hypnotized you

And back, back, walking back slowly

Walking backwards towards the pull that still seemed affluent & fecund

You walked

In silence

Until your foot touched the water and you had to stop to absorb what felt like several hundred volts of lightning streaming up from your Achilles Heel to your Freud-ball skull and immediately you realized

Something big was happening

Lowering your waist the pain was transmuted

As clarity wiped the fog from the window of your perception

The songs that came unbidden

Overflowed your stained glass imagination

Forcing out demons and dumb ideas

Death and delusions and bad desires

Running like demons to the sow

Having asked permission

Your music-stuffed head went underwater

A practical baptism, a lesson in breathing liquid

When you were pulled out you had no use for what lay on the other side of the pool

The grassy meadow where I still stood

When the cancer was removed

I came to find what I always suspected

I'm a huge part of the tumor

Dug in on the other side of the pool

While your fool legs take you fast as you may run

To make an offering to the chief priest

Singing songs of praise and gratefulness

I find my own song to sing

The Angel says my burden

Must stick tight and bleed like leeches

Bad seed buried deep in the abyss of my being

An ugly man, face drawn from grimaces and frowns

Unloveable and beat to the bone

Without a single song of my own

A Visit to the Bookery

A forest of trees
Sacrificed willingly
For the greater good
A medium of memories
Watch your step
The management is not responsible for personal injury
Refer to the Self-Help section
Second room to the right

The ghosts who congregate here
Holy and profane
Lament the passing of their generation
Guard against fire
For one little spark will bring the whole house down
With enough kindling to keep
It burning for days

I remember my first visit to the Bookery
The improbable tales of countless manuscripts
A sea of words, an ocean of ideas
Stories and poems to wear like clothes
A world on yellowing paper
Easier on the eye
A hundred miles I did drive
To find this treasure of treasures
When I got there I couldn't find a damn thing
But it was fine because I wanted everything

No out of the way bookstore or well organized library
The Bookery was a beast in it's own category
The disheveled nature of the books on the shelves
Made it a puzzle to solve
A maze you forget where center is
Distracted by the scenery on the way

Gallery of Souls

This gallery of shape-shifting souls
Has become a theater of the obvious

Token observations presented as
Extraordinary divine revelation

A parade of window-shopping prophets
Pointing, praying, "oooh, I want THAT one"

Stuck in a mold, how many don't know any better?
Confined to their emotions

It's All they've ever known

But that's all it takes to get your foot in the door
Of this funhouse mirror maze

Listen now to the laughter echoing against the glass
Lon Chaney guffaws at all who got lost

Hopelessly walking in circles
Hungry snakes chasing their tails

Avoidance

It's a dangerous game I play
Kicking against the dead weight
A sullen ghost laughing behind backs
Daring heads to turn
Victorious when they don't
A treacherous game that kills me
Keeping the dream alive
Well past it's shelf life suspended
Fanning the sparks of cruelty
Battling the guilt
An ominous game of hide and seek
Hunting for treasures that aren't lost
They're right where they're supposed to be
But you don't know that, do you?
And so the fun begins