end theme of DECEPTION w/photos

stupor

I recollected a moment,
a long time ago.
helping a friend who was staggering drunk,
back home.
feeling abject horror at her state.
making sure she would be okay,
as she went on to ignore me.

the foolish rush of blood to the noggin'
smitten with something that wasn't love,
nor lust . . . but need. that phase had passed,
we both had it out of our system.
but care was still in my heart somewhat.

I made sure she got home safe and sound,
while I took the long road back, dejected and disillusioned.
not worried about her feelings about me,
but my feelings about me.

flash forward, months after.
I, feeling dejected and disillusioned over
someone else entirely.
My feelings completely atrophied from this friend.
Yet we remained close . . . as close as acquaintances can be.

the night moved on,
the scene full of pariahs and sycophants.
androids, dolls, machines with pleasing aesthetics lined up.
phony, i drink, where have i gotten myself into?
what is this?
i drink.
i assume i will be funnier tonight. but no,
i will unleash a backlash. my body punishes me.

I have become the one staggering, blindly drunk.
the world gone topsy turvy.
a kaleidoscope of pavement, sky, and whirling lights.
loud conversations bubbling into murmurs of
inconsequential dialogue.
I beckon for her help, as I am clearly not fit to
walk the streets alone, since i had one too many.

i was a fool to think they actually gave a shit.
I was put in a car that dropped me 5 blocks away,
alone, teetering on the verge of blacking out.
into the wicked, dark night of an unforgiving city.

red

RED (there is no home) teaser 3 from MPFILMS on Vimeo.

the gate

there is a vortex that appears.
past midnight.
the sky will open, the black will swirl
into a luminescent white.
A great glowing eye from the heavens.
the only way to see it,
is to raise your hand,
palm outward. flat.
and slowly spread your fingers apart.

can you see it?
will you comprehend what it is,
when you do?

when your heart beat surges,
and the calmness eventually overtakes.
will you feel it?
will you know how to react.

will you be content?

absolute

three hundred and sixty five days
internal chaos, self destruction and self loathing.
the faces that appeared and vanished in the blink
of an eye.
that eye punctured by the ugly sight of another world.
darkness creeping in. spinning. funneled into a mutated keepsake.
The snails pace of evolution.
the stolen kisses that led no where.
challenged libidos, justified the mistrust of others.
the disgust.
not falling. not slipping one's toe into the black abyss.
teetering. not becoming the shadow . . .
the shadow the malformed brain guarantees
it will provide a cushion. a safety net from reality.
not possible. not falling into the trap of
misanthropy. misogyny. the lulling call of her . . .
the one called absolute.

she beckons, but must not be shown audience to,
her song will whisper around the ears, but
the moment it hypnotizes, the moment it
travels through the canals, the bloodstream.
it is over. she must be rejected or she will
swallow one into the deep recesses of nothingness.