RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Friday, December 1

twitter renga #1117

 (a renga written over the month of November on my main twitter acct)
feeling better and better about leaving it all behind, promptly starting over easier than repairing broken shit 
too many mistakes entrusting humans to act with integrity train horn and crows cawwing cause strong riverside siren song 
"though he's named 'raven' he's far too goddamned human," the crows was saying the train horn followed with "WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS POINTLESS" 
for real though - a folk's responsibilities choke all their dreams away short panic-heart oxygen grasps to get through mundane daze
 not depressed - don't wish I was dead; just wish I was gone away somewhere alone in this world - make brief connections which rot on vine
 easy to get lost inside own head when you not listening to heart heart math manifesting maps back towards happiness

"does not calculate!" screams fear-mongered brain as legs walk off into woods meditative swoosh of leaves with each heavy-hearted step 
woke up in crisis mode (again) like past few months (years) (entire lifetime?) "life is pointless yet you must continue" dichotomy 
each crisis floats past and one finds solace inside chill Sunday mornings music, no supervisors, still rich from Friday's paycheck 
Monday will be broke again, chasing those carrots them bitches dangle biting hand that teases not the same as the one that feeds
 feeling trolled by these other people's happiness...how do they do it? is it better credit or born rich or oblivious?
 being honest is promised as helping to fix things - all's out, open life's realities are dark,ugly, don't cooperate

"a country boy will survive" refrain eases pain in this moment some people born to survive, and navigate the mine fields 
microdose nature - miniscule microgram walks underneath blue sky breathing open air (even with buildings lurking) does help 
breathing cubicle air in square-lunged gasps causes sad anxiety don't normalize abnormal interior existence 
"it pays the bills" goes the self-justification which destroys the Earth need more deep green resistance to be active in my heart
 meetings are boring... so fucking boring... meetings are fucking boring pretend to pay attention until finally dismissed
 final dismissal followed by return to red clay bed forever (not for real forever, more like through decomposition)

decompose myself in metaphysical sense while still be living shit's a trip, y'all; did you know ev'rything's kinda pointless? 
don't worry, not in "contemplating suicide" did I say that shit more like laughing out loud while thinking "Sisyphus trippin'" 
"that motherfucker pushin' that big ass rock up that damn hill again!" then we laugh at the look in his eyes when that shit rolls back 
failure demons gain strength each time the boulder rolls back to beginning trying to find fun in the path more, for my sanity
 "not today demons!" I think in resistant voice... but it doesn't work the demons always win, as they've created this playground
 depressed ripples in digital realm attract them in swarming numbers cyber vultures circling round metaphysical carcass

picking my psychic flesh, I smile and click refresh, perusing the "news" useless rabbitholes emerge, identity crisis lost 
lost for the moment... I've become the rainbow wheel spinning spinning spin... no reboot, but the moon's bright enough to go sit outside

No comments: