No Place Is Home

I leave ideas to the essayist,

Pains to the poet;

Processes to the playwright,

And all else to the novelist while I try asemic.


© Heath Muchena, 2012


Upon discovery of life – the grand illusion,

I decided to make mine the best one;

So without attachment I entered into a union,

Meditation was what the observation had become.


© Heath Muchena, 2012


mind travel through love planes

like climbing down a cotton walls

wondering… imagining – the comforts of brains

waiting… wishing all sorts – in place fall

and if not, accepting it is fair game and there is no room for disdain

because pleasure lies in the hopeful helplessness of infatuation over all


© Heath Muchena, 2012