Many years ago, my uncle and his friend were going up to Oregon to visit a friend’s dad who was living on a communion. When they got there, they were told about a member named Rainbow Bob who was sadly murdered by this crazy guy who lived up in the mountains. They didn’t know his name, they just called him Mountain Man. Well the story goes that Mountain Man was going to jail for life for some unknown, probably violent reason. So as one tends to do, my uncle got this idea that they should sneak into Mountain Man’s shack deep in the woods, up on the mountain. Anti-climactically all they witnessed on the scene was an odd collection of artifacts probably collected over the years by Mountain Man. Needing something for their efforts, my uncle and his buddy stole a cast iron skillet and a knife. My uncle still has the skillet but refuses to use it. When they returned to the commune, they were invited to the memorial down by the river where they were to spread Rainbow Bob’s ashes. But before they dispersed the ashes, they all packed their pipes with some weed and bit of the ashes and proceeded to smoke some of Rainbow Bob. My uncle says he still feels Rainbow Bob’s presence to this day.
i feel your distance profoundly, like lightyears being self-aware of their own magnitude. you shine bright from thousands of miles away and your pull is a gravity all its own. this life, mysterious as it is, finds me in the strangest of unknowns. what haunts you? that is the question i ask, feeling your ghost transcend space and time, and waver in and out of existence, near me, yet so far away. i feel your embrace as if you were here, and still i know you are not. will you ever be? will i? let’s burn down the walls, shed away these skins, and live beyond the veil. life is a mask we have been forced to wear, but the shadow behind it is what i desire. i see you. and you see me. when the pieces fall apart, your smile remains, a delicate surprise to those that truly know. and again, all i want to do, is freeze this moment in time.
your voice quivers through the thick air, dripping mercury from hidden strings. i can taste your poison again, coursing through my veins. the night grows darker and yet you still shimmer. the moment flickers, fading in and out of existence. you are the soundtrack to my own haunting, an out of body experience where i greet the ghosts that fill the room behind the room. you’re gone and yet you never leave. time is an illusion and so were we.
i still feel her in my bones, echoing off unseen walls… her name begging an answer to unanswerable questions. we burned too bright and too fast. like a fiery comet meant for disaster. i regret nothing. for her name is etched upon my heart like a birthmark i couldn’t have planned. i will live and die in hope that she returns. in this life or the next.
i wear your scars with pride, wounds from the battle you waged on my heart. i would take back nothing, regret being reserved for the weak. i braved your choppy waters and lost, another victim to your storm. this shipwreck will lie in ruin, serving as a warning to future suitors. take heed with your precious cargo, for this sea is that on an epic fable. believe what you want, but she will eat you alive.
this tent is far too small for the cosmic scale of our intentions. i wax and wane against your flesh, a moon caught in the tide of planetary emotion. i feel your gravity draw me near and quiver in your embrace. your lips brush against mine, stardust staining my face. we shall dance under the stars tonight, wolves amongst this flock. savages we are, desert hearts that burn, hidden from the world. find me tomorrow if you still exist and we shall dine together. glorious sandwiches wrought from tired hands, stomping on birdfood that shall be wasted. forget her now you stupid fool, this delicacy is in its immediacy.
The stars dot the sky in cosmic scale, dripping lucid like mercury tears. I bathe in psychedelic drops of ash, remnants of cosmic death. We are borne from astral reincarnation, hope begot from scientific truths. I would burn the skies, fading into non existence, just to illuminate your presence. You are a shooting star, distracting the works from black holes of nothingness. Your love lights up the cosmos. You are the sun and I am blind amongst your glorious presence.
This fire burns with intention, the wood carrying the tales of centuries. Branches carrying the weight of eternity. If plants could speak what words we possess, they’d cry the crimes of history. We watch enchanted as they ignite, blazing controlled from feet away. I see my fate and that of those about me, praying for the best intentions. When contention fails and we subside, the burn is all that’s left. I see myself inside the embers, you glowing by my side.
She came to me in a dream again last night. It seems even there she has her grip on me. Freedom is an illusion, not like my nightmares which are very real. My self-induced insomnia is but a defense mechanism to stave off the war that happens in my mind when I can no longer stay awake. Days go by, the war at bay, but I inevitably doze off into terrorist slumber. I am wounded, why won’t they grant me leave? That’s just not in the cards for me. This night was no different and the war waged on. The marquee glowed neon, brighter than my dreaming mind could handle. I was blinded by the sparkling lights, little stars with more life than the people that filled the theater. Certainly more life than me. I stood in the center of the white-washed sea of Los Angeles harlots, silent amongst the roar. I drew imaginary lines from the peaking nipples perfectly placed on vapid model-types scattered about the room, making constellations from disenchanted wannabe stars. My attention was averted to the stage and the constellations fell apart bouncing on the sticky ground at our feet. She seemed to float from behind the curtain, a ghost in a shell, hovering until she reached the microphone. The theater went silent, all fading to black. I found myself in her dressing room, the chorus from “Little Lies” repeating itself in my mind, teasing and torturing me. I wish she’d lie to me, but she never does. She uses me. I like being used. I am her robot, programmed to please her. But I’m not a robot. I feel too much. For her. For what I wish she would be. What I wish we could be. She does a line and the dim lights dance off the mirror and along the perfect contours of her face. I admire her wanton disregard for consequence. She’s never been one to think that far ahead. Maybe she could teach me how to live in the moment, to be present. Doubtful. I have too much past and we have no future. She kisses me and I lose myself again. My mind begins to fade as I am lost in her embrace, her control over me reaching full capacity. I am nothing without her and yet she is everything regardless of me. She uses me and then tosses me out like dirty laundry. It’s fitting that the last thing I always remember is her smell, an aphrodisiac combination of perfume and fabric softener. I wake up restless and her memory haunts me in the form of a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of my room that I can’t muster up enough energy to do something about. Is this the summation of my life? Just a pile of dirty laundry.
Your waves are crashing over me. Embracing me. I feel your presence, undulating, each wave tucking me in. I lie in the sand, the sky my blanket, the stars my comforter. The moon, you, looks down with love like a mother protecting her child. You are the goddess of this universe in which I live. I look up to you and see hope and prosperity. You are my queen. I kneel before you. You call me monkey but i am a lion for you. This is our jungle. I will protect it. I will protect our pride. That which we create is the answer. Eternity. Our seed the purpose. They run amok, free, little symbiotic creatures made from our undying love. Our children of light, stars from other worlds. You provide the light. You are my night sky goddess. The tears of mercury don’t leave your eyes except when we truly see each other. And they bleed silver for only me. As I live only for you.