The Trickster

Oh, what a Mister —

The virile Twister

Spinning stories like the wise old Spinster

Who could play this game using any name

Cause that’s how it goes

When you invented the game

Though between you and me…?

He goes by The Trickster —

Ejaculating his Fabricating

On all your best reasoning

He flavors it with unbeatable seasoning

You won’t win his game of conniving treason-ing

The original Devil — a black-hat magician

His slight-of-hand steals cognition

No matter man, nor child

Nor politician

He’ll play you out for his own recognition

Your body his violin for sin

Your mind merely a token to win

And let me tell you

He always wins

He weaves through your very own mind

Using techniques you helped him find!

Unknowingly, the puppet — you hand over your strings

To the man with the horns ‘stead of the girl with the wings

And he plays you and he plays you –

And good God – how you sing!

‘Til slowly you learn – he will twist


There is only one way to steal back your cognition

Know when He’s talking and make it your mission

To discern Truth from Tricking

Then refuse…

To Listen

Sweetness Embodied

Will I ever see

Sweetness embodied?

Will I ever be

Who I was meant to be

Free of the never-ending Craving

Or will I just get used to it?

Will it stay with me like this

Like some kind of Over-Lay

Stifling and comforting

Horrific and Binding

Loving and Blinding



The Two Sides of me

Universally embodied in this one human frame

I ought not complain

For this gift of living so close to the edge

Befriending the insane

Riding the line that’s ever-so-fine

And I —

Lucky, really —

To not fall off permanently on that Other Side

But still I crave to know You better

But who is it that Craves in me

For —

To Know You better means more suffering

Sometimes I wish I were simpler

I wish I could go back to the ignorance

The small talk about something Surface

But there is No Return from This

I must simply go through

A piece of laundry

Just thrown in the mix

Trying to reach


The process to get there tumultuous


But I’m egged on by talk of Bliss

Of tenderness

Of the idea that sweetness can be