this morning i woke up
saying to myself
i need a new algorithm
i need more of them
for the world is changing
and i see and hear from a past perspective
i need to comprehend how
a new generation processes the world
around them
it's not the same cloud
it's not even the same air
the rain is different too

stand bye

for diversity
the university of self
the self-creating
images of cells
of being human
my existence
primarily depends on
life or death
the mortality of being alive
or the death of my inner structures
and functions to daily momentary life
i am born in a diversified
differentiated manner
of being
incongruent to others
my brain mapping is not the same as yours
and neither is my fingerprint
but both leave marks to our identity
and for that i am grateful
for i see my hair color is different from yours
and so is my skin, the length of my fingernails and toes varies from yours too
i like how we can be as diverse as the stars
and still possess our collective oneness in the universe
i enjoy how we can discuss own uniqueness without blending into one another's being and without creating harm by not refusing to distinguish they are just as miraculous as any creation in the heavens

i truly enjoy how our brains are not wired the same
our neuron pathways are as different as the roads we have traveled
and those left to explore
i like that you may see and learn things differently
so i may share in the higher puzzle into neural processing

how i would like to see the entanglement of you minds processing
the many tapestries hung or woven for me to walk upon in a garden of 

tempted i may to eat from the fruit of your perspective, but i prefer to keep you whole and explore the lineage that makes unique, 
and use them to build new guidance for my own

i want to learn from you
not imitate your being
for we both deserve to be unique 

and most of all thank you for not being me
for mirrors can be shattered
and i wouldn't like to lose either of us that way

I’ve motioned

I've motioned to myself
to come here
from where i belong
to whom i want to be
in the circus of time
circulating pathways across the universe of infinity
i like being incongruent
i like being without discourse
i like not being able 
to find my way out of a box
but i most likely like finding my way home
and i call that confusion
because its then when i am most creative
tangible with my thoughts
and i allow me to talk to myself
out loud or in silence
i like having conversations with the many me of being
i like being alone with my selves
even if they are confrontational (well not as much)
but it does bring about laughter later when we reminisce
(no one's feelings are hurt since there are no faces or names attached)
it is ok to be anonymous in ones one head it's the named
 ones you have to be careful with 
now my selves are grinning
thinking you may be wondering if i need a good couch to lie down on
but rest assured in my head i own both the couch and the chair

i’m just an angel

i'm just an angel
oops meant to say angle
but never less than an angle with wings
flapping them about
so, I'm either congruent or obtuse
or somewhere in-between or not
all over the place in my thought
but still have a fixed point 
from where i started out
I'm flatlining without being on a single plane
of thought
better have some coffee 
or take a nap

when i write

when i write
i write with my right hand
and think with my left
motioning silently in an incongruent sign language
sometimes not so silently tapping or thumping 
as my right-hand pauses
and the left has to wait for the right hand to catch up
there seems to be a discourse between the left and right
not always connecting
like two good friends who want to see a movie
but it is not the same movie

and when i type
the words get all wrong
misspelled in their typing
as the moving scripts become entangled

waffle toes

waffle toes
i knows the words baffle me
it's absurd to think i would right prose
about waffle toes
i jest i protest but the view is totally on cue
on how it started to be
i begins with me
wanting to eat not my feet but something warm and soft
that had some loft loftiness about it the way that my mind could surround it
as i lay in wait for in my haste to make
i substituted Swiss Miss cocoa even though it will make me loco
for i am allergic to it along with the milk which will make me hoot and toot
but as i said i was in the mood for something warm with an egg
and well now one is laid and i will walk and talk and nibble and quibble while i dribble and scribble 


i am anger
i am indecision
i am happenstance
i am coaxal
i am in just
i am latitude and circumstance
i am possibility and ignored
i am in serpentine and fluctuation
i am personable and inhospitable
i am one
one is more than a number it is unity with who ever
whomever i chose to be
and whatever i was created to be not
i am one with the universe as a whole
but i have my own role to play
forever misguided in its direction
i cannot hurl myself in anyone direction
     for i run in all
i escape into the unknown while clinging to the past
i am disheartened easily and i cry while i laugh at my mistakes
i take myself to seriously in what i think i can accomplish
for i am just a figure head placed on a body in a matter of time where time is just moments running away from each other and drawing them close 
i am unique in that i possess a language in which i can communicate with my inner self or should that be selves
for i am more than one
we all are
even the igneous rock you hold in your hand
as you think of hurling it 
at me
i feel its presence
i feel its energy and power
to do just
just more than injury
i feel its possessions of atoms similar to mine
i feel it's already a part of me before i am struck
i walk on embers burning with the memories of the past and the souls of the future generations to come
and they come in droves
driven by the will to survive 
to carry on in this escaped we call living
to masquerade as ethereal walkers on earth
i am one with the universe and you
forgive me for my blessings
as i request and grant them to my self 
all my selves
for you are just as much a part of me as is that rock 

you have hurled at my face to knock out my presence
for you felt it too and it brought you so much sorrow
to know, comprehend you were part of the world of living and non
you had to escape the invader of my thought by eliminating me from you
but i will always be here in your heart
unwilling willing you to be wrought with just being humane

Where art thou

Simply a
Just a place
to relax and hold dear
to what makes me human
without existence
For Art has its own purity
declaratory in nature, being undenominational
I am simply a, just a work of Art 

express myself

learning how to pump myself with information flowing freely and unyielding 
Without bursting at the seams
Being ripped from my cognitive state
I succumb to the state of loneliness in my mind
The tendrils of my dendrites 
Are without friends to hold on to
The making of connections at lesser speeds reflect my outer life
I am just an axon away from being an extrovert  

3 colors

my hair is going white
and so, upon my apparel write
in the eventful colors of light
that I am all things you cannot see
for refraction occurs inside of me
and I am growing old
the stories written within me are being told
upon my skin and my scalp, the adventures have been mapped out
so, if you look closely, you will see I have been colors that shout