Cogitus Rex

I hate fucking liars those who fan flames hiding behind false demeanour as they craft pathetic games. I hate those fakes all smiles and light in reality they bring you a deadly fight. I hate those who value my wife, while trying to figure out how to get her out of my life. I hate those who pretend to be friend the ones who would take from me but not be there at the end. I am no lover of manipulative charms their only real intent to bring us their harm. I am no lover of wordsmiths or poets, hiding behind words like I don't even know it. Pretenders to the throne those all alone who covet what is out of reach for them. The danger of others, alligator smiles conceal the bite that smothers. I hate them all, for being unreal for lying about what they really feel. I hate them yes, because that is justice and I wish they would return to their mothers.

I am not a volleyball despite what some may think. I am an honest man, I work hard and I stink. I am not some pseudo-man acting one way while hiding another, pretending to be me. I could just as well be my brother. I am not invisible, I am not bandaged and hidden. I am the one so few encounter, I am what is obvious and given. But in a world of players in this world where truth matters little I am still not a cats toy,  I will not be covered in spittle. So play your games, hoist your net, but don't be surprised or saddened at what you'll never get. Some men are real, some men are fake, I am not a man who wishes to be on your plate. Some women are fish, some men are fishers but I've never ever been one to cast a line to so-called well wishers. I am He, who plants corn and spinach and broccoli, I am He who waters those in need, I am not a porn star or a man who values deceit. I am a man, an honest one best I

Idealized and glorious  the friend ship sailed the glassy sea the crew was steadfast, loyal and brave as friends often need to be for each other, all for one and one could be thee, and I must sail true because we are sailors on this sea and none can walk on water nor should need ever be yet storms appear from time to time and the friend ship must confront each wave and sine signing off on patience, understanding that respect is what floats the ship each sailors duty done and none are bound to the mast for none would dare be the  others last. The friend ship, sails through storms and gales,  it steers by an ever fixed mark as playwrights and poets have said and philosophers too Yet the friend ship too must dock and at no expense dispense the passengers as due, for sometimes these bonds dissolve, and people part their ways, separated naturally, as a ship will disappear between the cresting waves.

Riposte... Passersby, not passers buy the problem of the world is that not everything is on sale, nor is everything to be had. The milk is never free, even after you’ve bought a cow there is always more milking, more caring, more feeding, and the land has even greater needs. Free at last, but not free to last? Is that what anyone wants? What pertains to others, does not pertain to me. Free from the very first. No news is good news, but bad news travels faster. So many will not notice because it isn’t nice, transform oneself into a cube of ice. The state of a union is unity, the state of covetting is want The state of happiness is clear the state of doing what is right. And right is what is left when the false dreams and expectations fall away “scales from eyes”, as the elders used to say. Passersby, a glimpse is gotten but such privilege is not a right. Associations path is accident that happens, and “Where have I been all my life?” is the most

 Awake sleep insomnia the quiet of the night, deepest slumber denied but still I dream but the dream becomes words in sequence like passing seconds that mark my solitude the veil, dark, covers the land the wind, strong scours the trees the sleep that evades me the day that starts before the others even waken and after so many years after so many meetings in front of this screen my lack of sleep is not a lack of rest but a nap, waiting to happen and waiting is what insomnia teaches  

An armadillo has decided that our farm is very tasty and digs holes every square meter looking for worms and grubs to eat It entered my garden yesterday and set my dogs barking but I was asleep and my wife decided that it was best to leave the night to the unknown This resulted in there being numerous holes along the edge of the fence and by the foot of the beds, little piles of soil that traced the hunt But how such a beast works through the night making hundreds of dents in my fields, inviting my little dogs to dig as well is truly a marvel So what shall we do, I asked our man and he said that it would be best to evict this nighttime guest and in the same breath reminded me that it only eats earthworms and that it wont touch the crops So despite a search a shovel digging in any hole found in earth the armadillo is still unseen and tonight I may leave the doors open enough for the dogs to cha

'Alone again naturally...' the words from a popsong                                                                   Nothing and no one are imaginary Only being in the midst of the real is real                                                                          Alone is a false perception because Being is relation and primarily that                                                                   Nothing can't exist no one can not be When I try to be me I find the rest of us                                                                      It is important to note that we Seek for a sense of self                                                             We yearn to be individual and we deny that such Is only a slight degree of change                                                                 A trick of the mind a bubble of thought That floats in a space more crowded than not

Picking up where I left off... the brushes have been waiting patiently... Now the yellow light that tints the clouds before the arrival of night invite me to see The way the edge of a cloud will shimmer when it competes against the darkening sky when tension can be a spectacle fine and mauve  is a compromise The rays of whitehotgold stream past faster than fast not my sight which lingers in the soft greyblue of a cloud shadow dumbstruck As the great wheels race, tracing arcs across the sky a violet overtakes the scene punctuated with the first dots My eye now takes it all in as one I sweep vision broad along the horizon majesty is not for a better name is sought than to leave it untitled.