NEW POETRY

Six Months

Six months
Is some turning point
In any situation:
In relationships
Abstinence
Is much harder.
In sobriety
Staying so
Is a trial
When crystal
Resolves are rung
Rung by
Temptation—
What to do?
Down hill
Loge at high speeds?
It starts
With masturbation
Letting yourself
Go – little by little
Until there is nothing
Just coming down.
The addiction’s grasp
So tight – your forget
What a model man
You’ve become
You succumb?
Sway under the force?
Or stand tall?
Baby sit those
Still young?
Hold their hair—
Help them walk—
Catch them when
They fall – they always do.
But who is there
To catch you?
Crystals catch you
But sometimes
They break.

--

Cuckoo Clock

I feel that too many times
I have been at the doorstep
Of greatness soaked in the tears
Of some forgotten god
Only to be turned away
With haste by my own heals
Wheeling in a 360 like
Motocross break dancing
Down the street I go
Back to where I am no one
Where I blend with furniture and walls
That’s just fine – I’ll bid my time
Living inside a big cuckoo clock
Coming out on the hour
And 360ing back into my door
It’s a big world out there
But this track steers me away
While on the hour every hour
I try to break free.

©Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

New Poem:::Ugly Crows

Ugly Crows

On your knees in preparation of tomorrow
When an empty chasm mind is filled with rot
Rotting people and situations proliferated
By the lack of compassion or acknowledgement
Bleeding off the skin that is so palpable
You could feast upon it and nurture despair
Like a hungry crow picking at garbage in the street
Desperately trying to find something to keep it alive
Finding nothing it weakly flies off on shaky wings
Starving with eyes puffed up, protruding
In a most ugly fashion.

This is what we are:
Ugly crows.

Count Down

Count Down

I think about it sometimes at night
Death I mean, but not suicide
The ultimate escape from here
Slip out after goodbyes
Or maybe none at all
Just away I go
With her heart
If not; me
Just me
Gone.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Morning

Morning.

Empty bottles
Burnt cigarettes
Bile like regret
Stained carpet
So please, don’t forget
Where you stand now
Waist deep in your own
Ejaculation.

The Weekend

The weekend

Freeway blowout
Center divider
Or hard shoulder?

Time lapse!
For the dramatic
Stop – roadside – halt—
Stillness – silence – police – sirens
Sober –sober –sober—
Still sober, you got that?

Knock out on the couch
For a hour or so—
Next scene—car won’t start
All over—all over!
Back to apartment
Filthy apartment
Holes in the walls.

Her place – studying
Exhaustion sets in
Sleep—sleep
Three hours nap
Back to the apt
CleanCleanClean
Sleep—sleep.

Sunday morning – Sabbath
A quick ride to work
Thanks, you are great!
Work – work – work
Build personal books
Leaving early – she’s here.

At parent’s house
Church – preach — pray
Dinner – nicely cooked
Back to the apt
Filthy apartment.

Pop new hole in bathroom
Rage at everything
Strewn anywhere
Sleep – sleep.

ⓒ Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Driving home from her place

The highway panning out
The yellow flickering
Synchronic with the beats—
Speeding music for streets
So empty you would think
A rapture occurred
And god did not want you
Decided to leave you
Behind –home – silent—
Dead, like peace on earth
Back when you gave a damn
About wars – victory—
Or just unsettled
A quiet moment
Much like an admitting
Of defeat to sound
Back when you gave a damn
You don’t, no one does—
Driving home from her place.

4-5-07

ⓒ Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Human Knowledge, the Soul, and Planes of Existence

Human knowledge is a funny thing: it would completely fail were it not for our educational institutions; schools, libraries, and such and so forth – which continue knowledge. As if to say: our knowledge is without flaw. But is it not possible to be the opposite? Perhaps our knowledge holds us back from spiritual enlightenment. Imagine Sir Isaac Newton was misled? That the apple fell downwards due to his mind’s wondering and searching physically pulled the apple down? What if gravity only exists because it is widely accepted as truth? And what if we stop believing in gravity, will we be able to fly or float? If true, I do not think we would drift off into a vast nothingness unless we so willed. And if so then our minds control events. Buddhists say that there is a shared consciousness – if so is this shared consciousness only the knowledge carried in oral traditions or books? And does this knowledge keep us harnessed to the ground? Does this learned fear of physical death keep us from living – hold us back fully utilizing our minds and/or bodies?
Another question is our existence: what is a person? Is a person a body, soul, or mind? It could be that we are not people as we believe our selves to be: a body inhabited by a consciousness. But what makes a body the ownership of the consciousness? Surely, if I wake tomorrow in a different body I would note the difference from yesterday’s body and feel displaced. So what is stopping the consciousness from wandering? It cannot be an issue of mass – or we would be capable of extracting it from the body, as we do organs. If not mass then what? It is almost troubling to attempt to pin-point from where your own thoughts derive. It must be that there is another layer of existence.
So, it appears the existence we are most perceptive to is the physical. Leading one to conclude that there is an over laying existence: a spiritual one which literally lays on top with our consciousness existing as souls. So, then do our souls simply shadow our physical body movements. Mo, we must be the puppets of our souls! And if this is the case, again - what stops us from being the puppet masters of a different body? There must be an authority of some sort keeping our conscious souls controlling one body. Or is it that our dreams are our consciousness leaving our bodies and having experiences in other bodies? If so, why are dreams not always as vivid as reality? Also, why do they seem to correlate to the past experiences of the original body? Is it that the soul finds a body to practice in? This seems unreasonable and foolish; causing a return to the idea of a greater authority making sure we remain with a certain physical body. Then dreams are just the imagination of the soul attempting to sort through all the sense information received from the physical body. Science, it would seem backs this up.
So, contemplating on such things throughout the day I note that if we were to not teach any of the past knowledge of man we could; perhaps, be free.

~Liam
5-1-07