Broken, during my first decade

I’ve always been broken, really

Shattered vestiges of mind and emotion

Twisted, wrecked ideals of heroism

Torn, the gauze of core beliefs

 

Lost and losing, my third decade

I’ve always been losing and lost,

Wandering the unexplored and uncharted

The path of the less chosen pursued at cost

Cain wanders, feared, fearful

 

Humanity aches in me

Dwelling in an inappropriate place

This vessel poorly formed yet perfect

Competes in a race, not of choice;

Compunction, compulsion alternate the pace

 

Rarely finished before I leave

Unknown genesis without end

Proffering myself to the process, then flee

Outcomes unseen swirling, churning in the flow

Yet still predetermined

 

Hurt and dying by my own hand

I am the nomad

I am woman, man and child

Vainly struggling for distinction

on the path to nirvana bliss

 

What is it in me, that madness

Claws invisible boundaries?

Is it Cain’s fate driving me to challenge thee?

No, the tent is far too small; the walls too tall

Knock them down; knock them down

 

It’s been revealed, accept my plight

In each day, each person, each way

Destroy less good; harmonize with mystery

Quietude in the static, rest in the flow

Still, a drone I can’t be

 

Are those grubbers that I see?

Panchromatic, pan-sexual, pantheists

Panhandling the current and the flow?

These are revealing the oneness

That we all may know life without boundaries

 

I live in pencil, delibly

I swim, the water remains whole

I swim away, the consummate water still,

No me-shaped void exists, no mark left behind

It is enough to be

 

Hurt and dying by my own hand

I am the nomad

I am woman, man and child

Vainly struggling for distinction

on the path to nirvana bliss

 

King of the hill, a young man’s game

Do-it-yourself celebrity,

Online fame, fighting for likes, links and esteem

Power ranking the vain, profane, and mundane

Cain’s curse makes them futile

 

Mighty wars, human history

Path in an ever-changing sea

For the men who will not do the next right deed

There can be no peace, only war is their plight

Cain’s curse marks pointless greed

 

Sacrifices null and void

Services are rendered in vain to whom

Religious servitude debases,

Penance cannot heaven’s gate unclose

Cain’s curse mars their ecstatic exultation

 

The poor abide eternally

Riches can’t buy integrity

Mammon, who creates the dragons’ greedy lair

Leads men to the putrid still waters of death

Cain’s curse on the vacuous

 

Hurt and dying by my own hand

I am the nomad

I am woman, man and child

Vainly struggling for distinction

on the path to nirvana bliss

 

Rest now my child, accept the pain

The pathway in, never the same

The way to Oneness breaks, do not resist it

The darkness distorts and deforms existence

Warping those who deny

 

Give up striving against the flow

The swirl, the churn or the eddy

Putrid standing water is separated,

Dwelling in death, not eternal but leaching

Into the aquifer of time

 

Six decades in, I grow weary

Ever touching, ever cheering

Come my love and see yourself as I see you

Perfection is us; we need not add or strive

Rest is here by my side