"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

Huis clos / No Exit Записки изъ подполья Notes from Underground / Memoirs from a Mousehole (V. V. Nabokov) شياطين They run on the floorboards above my head how inconsiderate, turn off the switch every day, they wake up in a frenzy yes, they leap out of bed, wake up the dead race back and forth, insane with excitement unkind, they scream in the hall at full pitch nothing is worse than children, Mackenzie other people's children is No Exit no wonder I run for miles until spent transform this world, restructure the fiction how inhospitable, life in this place each day, pray for wisdom, the depiction for hell as a mirror reflects disgrace left under the floorboards, deep in a pit old soul, Mackenzie, serenity found on a park bench, elsewhere, in reflection remember to change what I can, to wake before glorified minions make a sound order and reorder the world, courage accept shayāṭīn , upon inspection reality shifts, evil spirits quake difference is an experiment ...

HE saw a sign He made at Creation "Employees must wash hands before returning to work" so, He washed his hands of the universe and, on the eighth day, His fascination worked overtime for eighty hours straight and, He slept two hundred trillion years, jerk suffer the little children, adults curse inventions such as gravity, things fall give Me a break, God answers, I am Great nothing doing replies Adam, listen He hears his complaint, son of God in man each moment see a miracle glisten man, oh, man, Adam lacks the key, no plan as Eve returns to Eden, they recall demons on the perimeter of Hell endless torments await they who enter argue with God in prayer and you will find that Paradise disappears, a hard sell Create Heaven and Earth in seven days restless insomniac with no center except billions of years later, a blind advocate for mental health sees sorrow tyrants overturn truth, lost in a haze institutional racism, a gift of ancestors who prized power...

If I had twelve dollars for every dumb fucker who asked for a couple of bucks I'd be in business with a side hustle however, whence the capital, a crumb as I see myself, a speck of cosmic dust, not even a blip on the screen, ducks takin' off, flyin' south, no more bustle work gets everyone down, even the poor especially, the poor whilst they own dick lucky to live indoors from time to time vice is the spice of life, virtue, a joke everyone knows I contemplate my crime delusion, greed, and hatred when you're broke obviously, everyone knows the score literally, to be responsible lift a roll of two dollar bills, fifty at a time from the bank to give away really, I cannot be accountable still, who will finance this venture, capture for an instant on film a smile, thrifty old-school Polaroid for Leica to say really cool work, smooth dude, why the shake down everyone needs a little adventure virtual, no, in the real world, for sure even the poor in Ind...

Professor Miłosz answered my question reserved with but one word, 'Daimonion' obligations to respond to students forgave him for reflux indigestion ever more witty than a Cheshire cat such a response like peeling an onion strange to hear what inspires a profound sense of history and philosophy, deep rivers flow to offer one time at bat Moments come and evaporate, to seize in my youth the mystery of being łodzianin , The Promised Land , a breeze of less than fresh air blows mortals fleeing socialism into the deepest sleep ziemia obiecana , what does this mean answers in his History unfold time nothing escapes Polish Literature save for the Catastrophe , the unseen wisdom, impossible to grasp, then guides experience through right and wrong, as crime removes the stain of corruption, unsure existentialists adopt Marxism despite the deep divide taking both sides music to post-Stalinist ears, the Thaw yet, thirty-five years later, with the Fall questions of ...

In the rain, lightning and thunder, shoes wet soaked to the bone, cell phone wrapped in plastic he runs for miles, training for marathons each day the same but different, make a bet no one else is out there, torrential rain only the weather here will never stick the same but never the same, neighbors lawns muddy and wet, saturated, sprinklers excessive but on a timer, how vain like a dollar for every blade of grass thoughtlessly, he runs past, without a thought in his head, in his brain, just breath, success nothing but body and mind, the onslaught gives him the shakes, as thoughts flood in, anglers - liken that moment to a big haul, fish in the net with everything else they caught kiss the world goodbye, he runs to not think even a Buddhist monk allows thoughts, wish a wish upon a shooting star, at night stars appear vivid like old friends, each dot until the sun fades, strength once, in the pink guaranteed for four billion years, physics answers questions, why ...

No one but your gay, socialist God cares only He cannot stop the death machine only Ronald Reagan has the power not that HIV or AIDS pays the fares each ride the ferryman offers the dead but Republicans pinch the copper green until their war machine builds a tower this monument to a good and just war yawp for the barbarian horde, ill-bred obsequious politicians in charge understand how to profit from others raison d'être , how they say, living large given government aid, crack whore mothers ask for additional assistance, kiss your retirement plans goodbye, your dreams serve trickle-down economics schemes, code on Capitol Hill for capital bliss created by Buffett of Omaha instant gratification, bundled reams activate paper tigers, your abode lifts with John at eleven thirty-five if Jesus wept for Lazarus, Abbā sisters Martha and Mary, He comforts teacher, ἀνάστασις τῶν νεκρῶν, arts God-forbid, un ménage à trois, He sports old world necromancer vibes and im...

Ethics, turn a blind eye and look away take a look at yourself and your actions how and what you decide to choose makes right in a world where consequences display choices made, the results decide the wrong solution to the problem, reactions trace past triggers, why you argue or fight under conditions that inform lifestyle remember social background plays a song not understood in all environments ask yourself why identity culture binds one person to another, the dense layout of society, a vulture in a tower, eats a corpse, for a while nobody cares to feed the scavengers despite the homeless searching garbage cans even if you understand, "Jesus wept" yes, the world is full of weak avengers everyone seeks power to survive, live and breathe in comfort, your other eye scans networks of people, rough sleepers who slept difficult but possible on the trains languish in a lifetime of abuse, give orders, Make America Great Again only politics overrides ethics ...

Do three imaginary wolves not howl on a cold night in December, the dark tumbles in from outside the universe how is that even possible, wolves growl remember their ever-present hunger each morning, they must rest at the first spark enduring light, the sun cannot rehearse in four billion years, nobody will know maybe somewhere else but hear the thunder as sentient beings elsewhere, a lie genuinely, a fiction used to scare infatuated teenagers, they cry nobody knows why, the aliens care as when three imaginary wolves show really white teeth in the dark, in the cold yes, even in fur coats, with pelts of grey wisdom to discern their hunger from pain old world, Eurasian wolves, wear coins of gold literally, gangster, on the dance floor vision impaired by the disco ball, pray each night for prey before they snort cocaine servants of the gods of Mount Lykaion noble dogs of Arcadia eat boar organize a union at the nightclub turn over production to flip the room humans...

In a parallel universe, you choose not to get on the Brown Line, but remain a passenger on the Red Line, you see parallel at the Fullerton stop, booze and drugs, the commuters of Chicago ride the trains, turn a blind eye, to obtain a pass to work and play in the city life for some, this routine, week after week life for others, decisions, long ago each day, actions catch up with you, today life is good, tomorrow, nobody knows understanding context, you say, they pay no one, make amends, outside, the wind blows if you play by the rules, your right to speak vote, make choices, one line or the other every day, the same but different, the song remains the same, the tune, a bit different surf the web on your phone, head down, brother everyone's the same but different, money you know divides the right way from the wrong only you think you're in the right, you're bent under a paddle and over a knee children, children, chuck it away, honey honey child, once s...

Shāliāt  for Hannah, my favorite palindrome ~~~ If then, I am dead, I will get a dog for the conditional offers results the consequences thereof being sound hypothetically, this part of the cog engineered by the machine, by the dream never more than a desire, as the bolts I put in place myself, deep underground as if the proposition left a choice maybe I will die, and then, I will scream death being the window between four eyes even if I had some money, the books ask me to care for the cats, I despise death except for the fact, a dog then woofs I look up to hear my heart sing, its voice woofs as if to howl, to howl like a wolf in this way, I become a dog of old like reincarnation, a backwards fall like trust, I fall backwards into the fog given the conclusion, I wear a shawl even if a wolf howls from hunger, cold the shawl, a pashmina , bridges the gulf as if, an unconditional regard demonstrates in the double negative of amor fati , a clear positive guide t...

If I have nothing to live for, why live for nothing to devour this life like wolves I am no more a child than God, my eyes have seen, my vision now fades, I give as little pleasure possible, no lie virtue bathes me in sin, my pride dissolves envy becomes empty, greed, a disguise nonsense to gluttony, I live half-starved owls observe my sloth, swift clouds in the sky torpor to my wrath, anger rents no stage houses no lust, malleable gold, old in honesty, charity, disengage nonsense chastity found my marriage sold given temperance, drunk peg leg, half-carved to ride a motorcycle, a pipe dream obey the rules since childhood, how I scream line up to run another race in pain in all honesty, just myself to blame versions of a life squelched, desires suppressed endless lines of no fun, never cocaine for whom to behave, in what to believe obey the Church, no faith, it's all the same restructure reality, read repressed when did I become a book on the shelf how no mor...

Perhaps it is all my fault, I was born each day, I contemplate things otherwise removed from the vacuum of thought, I sense how I appear in your eyes, full of scorn as if all meaning devolves with my face present, about face, forward march, this guise such as I choose, as if to sculpt a tense insultingly laughable mindfulness trauma makes people do dumb things, disgrace intimates emptiness before my birth since before my zygotic conception as gametes seek union to conceive worth literally, since my own deception leads me to acknowledge my spinelessness mercy on my soulless impermanence yes, I acknowledge my part in the past forgetfulness, this I am not allowed allow me to be frank, nothing makes sense unless the abuse I encounter tolls like an enormous bell, how I am cast to light or to shadow, to be not proud I become death, death becomes me, awake witness others with their impressive goals as for me, I will disappear and fade simply into a crowd, no legacy bo...

Poetry is process, how we process old wounds, fresh wounds, battle scars, emotions energy in language as words transfers trauma into ashes, so we progress realistically beyond shame and blame yet, we live oceans apart, as oceans inhabit our worldview as metaphors separating as individuals perhaps the biggest lie, a conscious game resulting in disparity, nonsense objectively a fact of property case in point, what you own owns you, the fence entirely proverbial, you see simultaneously as real, as schools send students out into the world to change how we understand reality, shift others to conceive the plasma of air walk through the world, the senses soon derange walk to the bakery, to stand in line everyone experiences the rift perceived as a separateness, we share reality confirms mind in body objections to the rule, how we define consciousness as multiple and not one every time someone cuts in line, we ask someone we do not know, sorry, the sun somehow blocked...

Nobody knows and everyone assumes obligations to openly discuss bitter experiences with others obeys no rules of conduct, swept by brooms divisive as skin tone or affluence yes, nobody knows to speak on the bus kill me with unkindness, stone heart bothers not simply the waves of the universe or what we call our greatest influence witness the distress and sorrow as pain as an inability to be kind nobody knows the pain others obtain difficult as childhood ethics, as mind each day presents to be free, not rehearse virtually mimic the mimetic each day we kill ourselves, turn a blind eye real world behaviors are not the person yet, to account for actions, aesthetic overall beauty as gracious kindness nobody knows the suffering the sky each day observes until rain falls, the sun asks why hide away from love, but we burn surface to surface, pigment, a blindness society bolsters as real, as race until we dismantle the bomb, our hate makes tolerance for bigotry, disgrac...

Super-toxic uncommunicative people make each moment really painful to be alive on this planet, xenophobic in social cultural awareness

The truth about why my friend died how she ended her life exactly when she left this world truths as uncovered mysteries, they lied reality never will get better until I understand this world, this strife to struggle with a flag unfurled how will the truth bring my friend back absence makes the heart grow fonder, sweater betrays my sorrow when I meet others only over myself, I have control unless the fraternity, my brothers the dead whisper secrets about my soul winter runs long, I feel cold as I lack honesty to face this reality yellow egg yolk stain on a china plate murder is murder, even of the self yellow heart, so untrue, feels gravity feels friendships slip away like grains of sand remember her voice, I hear as if fate in a heartbeat laughed, a book on the shelf endless rows in a library, her voice nothing more, nothing less, palm of the hand defines the mystery, lines on a plane distant friends ask me why, why did she die if I knew why she killed herself...

I write these words for two people whom I may or may not already know ridiculous to imagine impossible to ascertain, pebble tucked away in my shoe exactly as Pan Cogito thank you for your concern, I'll never win honest men and women decide my fate eventually, I will become glue servants of emptiness as a process empty of happiness, desire, and dreams women and children beat me, I confess on my way to the life rafts, terror screams remember this life, too little, too late dimensions of demonic existence simply fiction, empty without value foreign experience, children tongue-tied organize the rest of this life, nonsense religion for fearful corpses, my grave tattoo on my shoulder, life makes me blue wicked candle flame flickers since I died objects of memory project no blame people like my brother, I cannot save everywhere I go, I am the other order my death with coke and fries personally, I'm too tired to bother leave it be, the burger and fries are lie...

My baptismal name, Nameless Nobody yes, my parents were English professors both born and raised in Moscow, Tennessee although, they called me, Saudi Samādhi pretend they were creative and witty though, Richard bore legions of lesions, sores infected with AIDS, acute HIV sarcoma covered his body, cancer made prevalent in the '80s, shitty acting Actor-President paid no heed left me fatherless and motherless, too nervous as an orphan, my fears would bleed anger with my punk rock stage name, Nicked Tune maybe I should have been a goth dancer elegant, slim and tall, the White City Needles, California, my getaway as far away from Chicago, pipe dreams make me run away from any pity endless decades of therapy, no fun like those milk carton kids, they had no say ending up in a shallow grave, their screams silent as crushed Kermes, Crimson Silence silly name for a band, I know, Black Sun Niagara Gorge, Goat Island, Horseshoe Falls obviously, I named our first album b...

Am I too daft, too dense, too dim, too dull maybe I am not young, rich, big and strong I am a buck to cull, am I not wrong take me to America, as a child only never take me back to Bombay or Panjim, where our ancestors were born damn me to this devilish hell, too mild and unsavory to enjoy, too bland for a Goan used to the spice, they say travel son before you grow old, I scorn their unsolicited advice, I cry on my stained pillow, symbolic as sand of the desert, or the seashore, I weep diamond tears, my daimonion observes entire rivers flow even while I sleep never ending Amazonian curves surface on the scales of the python, try each day not to be venomous, a snake trolling Lawrence and Miłosz, both in verse ouroboros, the universe, as cold old, agèd , Father Time, step on the brake drive the pedal down, stop the world, I scoff in amazement, my death, I rehearse maybe a better man would have been bold tragic for me, this life, nothing works out only maybe it do...

Am I too old, too poor, too small, too soft maybe too aloof, locked up in a loft I might be found lost in an undercroft tell me what I can do to become young old age chases me down, a grizzly bear on the prowl, up a tree, dripping honey old age makes life taste like dung on my tongue life is a miracle, each day, I weep death becomes me, one day, I will die, fear transforms the mold, shapes the lack of money old age matures wine into vinegar old age makes me tired and fall asleep provide me a place to siesta, please or else, I become feeble and unkind of course, I may be a lecher, a slease remember, I may appear callous, blind though, I am eager to learn, funds meager old age makes me grow wise, constant defeat obeys the facts that this life is not mine suck it up, bitch, this world is my prison maybe, I am not a big man, they beat a child into submission, to rebel like a titan against the gods, to dine like an eagle on my liver, my son take a bow and leave the s...

Well, so, nobody explained what it means as they say, the facts of life, so sorry kiss my ass goodbye, I hope to die soon except to make explicit whence these dreams under the azure skies of anarchy please forgive me such insolence, worry troubles the face of this planet, a dune of rubble and sand in the near future triumphant the dogs of patriarchy heaven and hell all in one place, the earth established as a colony for life maybe has no other planet where birth inhabits the structure, creating strife remember at all times, there is no cure as loving-kindness has not taken root clean and clear functions to order the real leave behind this world better than you found each day, although, I may be an old coot order and organization creates function over dysfunction, to conceal trauma, distress, and abuse is unsound honestly, clarity is key, the clew in the dark of this labyrinth, the fates slay the beast, the monster of ignorance look up at the sun, to stare, or to...

Love cannot cause suffering, never fails only human frailty, weakness, neglect visions of greed, hunger, absence of care emptiness fills a box once full of veils can God lift the rock too heavy for God absurd questions once worthwhile, I detect needless suffering in harsh words we share never could love fail, love is beyond harm old men exchange sentiments with a nod trust that delusions of grandeur inflame cool fire blue, the gates of hell, as fiction as fictional as heaven, in the frame underneath the lamplight, a depiction showing the Afterlife, sound the alarm emptiness overflows from emptiness suffering is optional, pain is real until we open the box, no one knows foresight into the unknown, take a guess fulcrum shifts the weight to create balance emptiness is beyond what hearts can steal remember hatred flows as power grows inverted grayscale images portray needless suffering regarded askance glance at the newspaper headlines in doubt never does love argue...

As if I were not made for happiness smoke and mirrors, the world as deception intentions, as a choice, to choose the good for instance, heroin is quite a mess I chose not to follow music, my dream worthless to sacrifice from inception endless joy and passion for the dead wood remember authors and poets are sick egotistical brats, side hustle scheme nervous as dominoes lined up to fall orbit the rock scene in circles obscene tragic choices, end of the line, the squall manages to shift hopes elsewhere, unseen aspirations, unknown, not my first pick demented to imagine that I write even if I get better, it's too late forty under forty , as they demand oligarchs not born but made, how despite recognition, respect, and loneliness happiness in solitude is not great as unshared, friends are few, not near at hand proximity is now distal, at length potential for happiness and success in old age, at my age, no longer young needless to say, death becomes my consort ev...

I will die soon, I hope, the pain, so much what do I care about others, they care if their ship comes, money, money, money like my older brother, he has the touch like his love for cocaine and weed, the rush death becomes me like a fur coat, I wear in June, while drinking coffee with honey even if I don't die, this pain, badly suffering the inevitable brush over there, Old Nick waits, holding a scythe only Death is my friend, here by my side no less patient than the Devil, I writhe I dream it will all be over, my bride how she left me for her patient, sadly of course, with no sense of ethics, my wife partial to a patient around her age eventually, gave me a divorce, good the ultimatum, she left me in strife her, or the cats for adoption, how kind ever the mistress, karma felt my rage perhaps never say that I never should as my memories of a shallow thief indeed, she kept my last name, what a find nay, for professional reasons, the whore so much for love, San...

For my teacher, Beth Nugent, lover of animals, especially, horses at the School of the Art Institute who called me Machiavellian "Language reflects the mind of the speaker." ~ Rui Carlos da Cunha --- Is it my fault that I don't like people sure, I don't like church either, they don't mind if I burn down a church, they look away turn the other cheek, until the steeple mightily comes crashing with a great roar yet, if I burn a homeless man, the blind fake their lack of vision to see and say arguments in a court of law, to think underneath all their lies, I set the score lithe, little man, unwed and underfed triumphant over petite bourgeoisie truly, they pretend to care, the less said however duplicitous they may be actions speak louder than words, if I sink their battleship, how are they to save face I'm sorry but I speak my mind freely discipline taught me how to hate others of course, I love my family, the disgrace no one chooses to face, neg...

I wish I were a billionaire poet with an artistic temperament, throwing insults at passersby like globs of paint sloshed onto a canvas, angrily set handfuls screaming with epithets of rage I wish I were never born, billowing white clouds of steam from smoke stacks, one complaint egregiously monstrous from a neighbor remarking that the apple in a cage entertainingly symbolic but lame as political protest art, to face bourgeois, corporate employees, the same ignorant social skill set of disgrace lingering as the engineers of war likely governmental sycophants show in hand, thumb between two fingers, the fig only informers as snitches display not just contempt for authority, slow asinine thought processes, a donkey in the ranks of the president, poor pig revolving around the sun, hear the bray eccentric followers lack importance pigs obsequiously obey a flea obey their master, give the dog a bone erect a monument to a life spent tearing others apart, a cornerstone worked with chiseled han...

Was I just an observer on a ship a ghost, once a seaman, before the mast sick, nauseous, from the turbulence at sea I was once a sailor, now just a blip just an ephemeral moment in time until I became beyond time, outcast suddenly overboard, always queasy thrown into darkness as a bucking horse as cold and hopeless as a life of crime no one saw what happened but I was gone old cowboys never die, as tumbleweeds become rolling thistles spreading seeds, pawn sacrificed for the queen, in death she bleeds enemy to my opponent, of course remember, I was sick, but the captain virtuous, full of kindness, bored on board each day, nauseous with the world, sick of life revealed his passion to play chess, plankton order the observer to float, my back never falling below the surface, floored aspirate salt water and die, such strife subtle and quick, serves a purpose, alive how I helped on the ranch, and I learned black in chess, always defends, rarely attacks playing with my...

It seems that the linear perspective time occurs as successions of events sequences appear in experience except simultaneous objective existences interconnect in folds made apparent in stage curtains, nonsense says the unperceived perceiver, so dense that no one notices it adjusts time happenstance occurrences within volts aspects of simultaneity shift temporality based on karmic bonds the gift of predestination, a rift hovering in free will as God absconds each mind as one consciousness, such a crime likened only to value added tax in European law, how to relax no one knows, rush, rush, rush, it tracks, the facts eclipse the truth, darkness cannot reflect as a mirror without light, nothing seen reflection in hindsight creates ethics potential shifts occur, magnets detect energetic polarity, time moves removes determinism, a spliced gene sifts through permutations as aesthetics permutations remove free will, pretend eternal simultaneity grooves creation uncrea...

As astronomically impossible situations rarely occur this world appears as miraculous as stories shelved under magical realism tornadoes, earthquakes, and destructive floods rip the veneer off the charming surface only a miracle could save us now needless to point out just how ironic obvious statements sound on reflection miracles rarely occur and the earth is a singular achievement by whom call it God, or the Universe, as names account for identity politics little to remedy situations left in a dark corner, unattended yes, ideas get lonely, it sounds absurd impossible that photosynthesis made possible life on earth, conditions potentially possible on Venus or Mars but for their atmospheres, downgrade simply as a terrestrial planet simply in a row as in a system if Jupiter as giant protector balances this system as a fulcrum literally, scientists need to find everything as a system, such is life

Even if I could offer you these words virtually to overcome struggles even if my experience conveys not simply for sparrows, talkative birds in bushes of idle chatter, I know feelings and emotions, desire shuffles I see myself in hindsight, time delays create a sense of urgency, patience offers a sense of distance, room to grow understand what it means to be a kid like your parents remember, not at all decisions to make, work keeps a tight lid only as an adult, no longer small forlorn before the fact of my nascence forgotten as a child, as you, yourself even if I could let go of the past remember memories define our health yellow sun, coolfireblue, left on a shelf only books offered clarity and hope until I restructured the nets I cast time suffered urgency, I found a wealth honesty contains within perspective eclipsed by youth, generations on dope situation normal, all fucked up, find each man, woman, and child abused, they hide with defense mechanisms as the ...

Quaff draft after draft with a hardy laugh unknown in these parts, their hearts on their sleeves as a badge of honor, their status reveals fixed stars, separate the wheat from the chaff foreign-born thinker, an honest drunkard dares to outdrink, thoughtless autumnal leaves religion unites against selfish deals against identity with the other forgotten ancestor with a bent card tests the worthy to prove just how savvy architects of social infrastructure fasten their seat belts with sticky taffy triumphant humans, their alpha culture eclipsed by elephants as no bother ruffians of the Order of Orange divine soldiers of greed and hate defend reason as delusion, islands of rage against hegemony, dans l'or de l'ange feathers suspended from wings on their backs thoughtless inhabitants try to pretend winter runs down their spines, cold rivers gauge ignorance with a yardstick, the mirror transforms ethics with quicksilver life hacks honest drunkard observes people...