Tag Archive | anger

Be Angry

There’s only, ever, been, one way back
and that is to turn
face
and meet with all the deferred passion
the thing
that has been nipping at your heals
ruining your slumber
allied with your silence
home to your smallness…

be angry.

Be Angry,
you will need it
because the walls you’ve built are strong
and the fog is thick
and plenty of monsters abound
and you will be devoured
in silent forgetting
if you are not angry
and that is why you are so lost
because you have meant to be
and so you are.

Be Angry.
Do not be lost.

Knowing You Cannot Understand

There are times
-if you pay attention
and want –
when you can drop
into understanding.

It is a drop, not a rise
we cannot rise
until we drop
and touch our feet
on the soil of our souls
and feel the grit
and cold reliability
and home
of our foundation.

I have dropped
into knowing
dropped into
knowing
away from the
clouds of understanding
with their distracting
lightening and thunder
and fog.

What’s the difference
between knowing
and understanding?
The first is true
the second is impossible.

Imagine a life without understanding
a life lead by something other
than head or heart
but using both.

I dropped down
I saw where it all started
and how I keep myself
in the clouds
of understanding
arguing
defending
promoting
losing
winning

I don’t know if I’ll stay down here
but I sure hope so
there is peace here
and love
and belonging
and forgiveness.

I don’t know if I’ll stay down here
but I sure hope so.

Don't Touch Me

Everybody wants to rule the world
*small tear on cheek*
**LARGE FEAR IN HEART**

Jets and pumps and fleshlectrical bursts
wet on the inside
whatever makes me up
is churning
burning
electric power operating
What the hell is going to happen to me
and what the hell gives me the right
to think about it
and who the hell do I think I am
that I can think about
that I know what I’m thinking about

What the fuck do I know about things.

Now zoom out
leave the blood and muscle
and electric heavyfull feelings
behind
zoom out
bones, skin, hair
and out
to the air surrounding my body
and out
like reverse google maps
and out and out and out
little blue dot
and out and out and out

You just blew my little baby mind.

Don’t fucking touch me.
that’s the bottom line.
Don’t you fucking touch me.

Screaming at People

I don’t think it’s as bad as it appears,
and it appears bad.
It can’t be
but it could be if we believe it
instead of finding out
for ourselves.

I know what it’s like
to want it to be bad
to want the worst
to want the relief
from responsibility
of every day life
because this everyday life
is not very cool,

you have to work hard
to make it cool.

And really it should be pretty cool
without any help
because it is amazingly cool,
this life
this breath
this perception
this touch
this keyboard
this music
this thought
this life.

But there’s a bunch of us
fucking it up.
I mean really screaming
screaming at the top of our lungs

SCREAMING
at one another.
SCREAMING
at one another.

I scream.
you scream.
We all scream
for icecream.

Except this isn’t that.
this is less fun than ice cream.

So sure
such kinship with our hatred
we are plugged into the matrix
we have not taken either pill
and we want the steak
that doesn’t exist
and it doesn’t matter the injustice
we are not concerned with injustice
we are concerned with

Screaming at people.

That is our concern.

screaming at people.

The Beater and the Beaten

I went off on some fucking asshole
and showed him what’s what
I didn’t hold back any punches
and wielded my words to cut.

And so I cut him, into pieces
and he was deeply defeated
and it showed in his face and down
turned head
that mutha fucka sure was dead.

And as I gazed over his defeat
and scanned the horizon above the beat
and caught my breath and righteousness
I flexed my chest and blew a kiss.

And as I walked, head high, away
every step I took kept love at bay
and with each I became more lost
my righteousness has such a cost.

And in the instance of my delusion
with each step grew my confusion
something happened
I don’t want to see
that it’s me that took a bruising.

I do not want to see it
I do not want to feel it
I do not want to understand
how I lift a violent hand.

I do not want to feel
the depth of my own pain
I do not want to see my
unpuzzled true reign.

But my, my, my…
my friends
there’s only one answer
and it has no end
it’s the journey of you
a step turned in
away from the world
to where truth lives.

And in an instant you’ll be defeated
on such a level
you’ve been so mistreated
but surprise, surprise
what you’ve deleted
Is that you’re the beater
and the beaten.

My poor child, it’s only you,
my courageous one
yes, it’s true
you’re the beater
and the beaten
and you beat first
your open heart
before you begin to start
beating another
far away, out there,
you beat yourself,
you don’t know
you don’t care.

But this last beating
is your final defeat
the one you beat
could not be hidden
and as you hacked
and pounded at them
and ripped their skin
with molten words
meant to burn and corrode
and scortch
with just a pile of smoking waste
left before you, egoic haste

Something happened
and you finally faced
that all your violence and all your rage
directed at something away
is the biggest lie ever played
and played on you
(and every one of us)
that what you strike
is what you love
and what you kill
is what you want
and what you fear
is what is dear
and every time you strike with words
(or the weapon that works best for you)
you strike your heart
you strike what’s true
you strike yourself
you kill yourself
you hate yourself
you beat yourself
you are hateful to yourself.

We are not separate
no matter how hard we try
separateness is the biggest lie
you strike me
it’s you who dies
my love, my love
please open your eyes.

The Parents Blew It

The loudest voices
hit all the spots
desperation
is what they’ve got.

Scream and whine and yell and point
so loud, like feedback, a knob turned to high
Looking for weakness to annoint
kill them, let all the bullets fly

Voices demanding to be heard
as if the volume was not absurd
voices stealing tranquility
disguised as freedom and safety.

Like baby children they scream
at night and light the sacrificial night
their only concern is their might
their only desire is to be right

And no one told them how else do it
no one showed another way
the parents really, really blew it
There’s simply nothing else to say.

Home

To live again in ourselves
To inhabit the houses
While inhabiting the houses
In the house
Where we live

We must figure out how to forget

Forget what we’ve been taught

Forget that our teachers are lost
mostly
And know the difference between
Those that are lost and those that
Are trying to make their home, real.

The primary, powerful way that we forget
Is by being angry and by believing our anger
is more important than that which we seek,

Home.

A snarling dog

Is all that I have left
my base is now what used to be my protection
“scream”
“SCREAM”
SCREAM!
there is nothing below
and the illusions have all been eaten
I am full in my head
but hungry in my soul
for blood
the blood of the betrayers
the blood of the betrayers
something in me tries
to look at the grass
and trees
and to see the reasonableness
of nature
but as soon as there is a light tap
on my shoulder
I wheel
snarling
teeth exposed and gnashing
against air
and hoping for flesh
and spittle flies
and my desire comforts me
and feeds my furious hunger
gnashing
yellow
teeth
like daggers
my eyes roll back
and I allow myself to be consumed

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