Describing my sensations (daily):
Dry water to loosin’ joints and invigorate lips,
hands tremble, vibrations echo in the blood of the beholder.
Shaking in breath, bones, tremors of stimulation,
the flux between zen and anxiety (it’s perpetual).
lingering scent of garlic on fingertips,
prints engraved with oil
and greasy hair rests of forehead like sweet exhaustion.
Gas fills the air as sparks fly,
unsafe while touching, moving,
turning and spinning and twisting
Dreams swirl like honey, thick relaxation,
but sometimes they poke, aggravate
deep rooted neurosis,
manifested in repetitious motions
of the day,
over and over
a sharp pain in the spine
over and over.
Is this everything, eternity?
Awaking to sweet beans, an energizing elixir
to tighten up and speed through.
melting into spontaneous forms,
connection is necessary for production,
producing moments of pure intuition
understanding: I can control lightning.
It vibrates with caffeinated blood,
the power in dirt-fingers (I can see my ancestors through my fingertips).
Dancing in rhythm with steel and gas and heat
the mysterious inner workings of machines.
In the air the taste of rust,
feeling micro particles graze skin, abrasive
but craving the itch of heat, the pain of the push,
the satisfaction of seeing.
I wonder about the things I do not know,
they tumble around inside the skull,
gather and form into a landscape of
Aware of the air movements of ghosts
melt in a silent tension,
stretch in relaxed, smoky air.