robert bronisz **** CHICAGO

this new me is taking over tired
with dying breath
saying nothing
and is leading me silently home up the heavenly stairs
this new me is getting old
sick
will trip over every step of the fate
confused
already gave up on many faces and skins
while old me is still looking forward to take a different path
no-nonsense
down to Earth
shed nothing but people and dreams
nevertheless the new me took my hand as if I was a child
even though old me is not there yet
I really am not
I wish I could pass on this trip
run it into a snag
but I am too traumatized to oppose him
I just stumble behind hypnotized
terrified
as if I had no choice
but to comply
expire
let him sacrifice both of us
fine by me
to push that sick walk
and watch
as blood soaks into the dirt beneath my feet
instead of turning into wine

If we judged God by the conduct of his chosen people he would qualify for a mental institution but to many the idea of a crazy God is unthinkable. Why?
Don’t we have herds of crazy people created in his image?

Artificial intelligence has been created to finally replace real intelligence for the ease of management. Real intelligence has two shortcomings:
– it is too dangerous,
– too  unpredictable.
Otherwise it wouldn’t create artificial intelligence.

Towards the end of life you finally learn how to deal with psychopaths by  becoming one, conveniently turning into a father of all mothers of psychopaths.

To really know, invert everything you know or simply develop a habit of making being stupid uncomfortable.

from the very beginning I felt serenity I stumbled upon my life
on Earth
since many of my favorite days were part of its short but phenomenal run
and if my life was a new face in a crowd of humans that passed me by
it would smile at me like another fool out place and time
look stranger
bless you
and let me teach you how to howl after a shadow Moon
embrace Black Sun to the morning rescue
then follow its signature East
West
shine with it bright
in the fall and rise
up and down the longest roads
coast to coast searching for deep meaning
for destiny lost to insanity
pilgrim on the guarded plane
damn prison Earth
l already miss my cage

life

offering fistful of burning stars to light up projected skies
picking up every little bit of luck off the ground
to find you down here
my love
the writing in my heart
promise to leave storms behind
stand my ground
and I am so thankful
I got my feet back under myself
to carry this mind
restless energy of thoughts
mirrors of heathen soul
further than I ever hoped