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Thursday, June 30, 2011

120

She tripped tha fuckest out when the cap on her eyeballs came
you know the feeling
where the structuring of the earth is so deformed it slopes down ward and bubbles
much like a fun mirror.
the next was the digital visions,so overwhelmingly trippy you swear you lost your mind,but you just thought that,so your still thinking
BAM! hairs stand up on your spine.
climb to the fourth level of perception where the glimpses of this geometric triangulated world is built to form, mold and take from altered stated to sober.
glourius amounts of meditation and telekenesis will lead to confused marches in snow
what did I eat,what have I grown
where have I gone,what is going wrong,what are these people dealing with around me
why do I love them so
sleep comes heavy,best friends for all eternity,even if they dont believe it yet
expect to feel worthless at times
its all in the mind
come out with your spirts on high.cry.smile.eat.drink.be.merry for tomorrow we die
again and again this sediment is spent said on deaf levels
vibrations arent crossed,so much is lost its not easy to account for
hords of lords,ladys,maidens and ramblers will take your heart if you let them
dont always jump in the limousine...sometimes blisters have meaning
a special place in my mind is the morning stairing over the contenintal divide
mark,john and I stared blankly in the thin rocky air,alpine miles
the sun is purple and gold,hints of sea foam...its 60 degrees or so...I think about it until Im back on ammons
next to the graveyard,in my plot of a home...covered in flowers
smell of rain
toasting to doom.

WIZARM

I fell in a daze
as if my wrists were in a bind
lines of fairy tale books came to mind
as I spent my nights chained
beyond the walls of intel and agents
past the spiritual change
we ministered to the faithless,
the eyed us with razor wire stares
glazed over glares spared not one of these men a sound mind
but after oblivion comes time
try as you must
but the bottle wasnt enough. we needed powdered lines.
neither were the knives that cut pie charts or interns hearts
crass shallow details by the fellows who knew them best
well
leather faced with out a single knowledge of fact
it wasnt the chalk outlines that reminded me of that
or the ratatat of broken skeleton lapses of judgement and motor movements
sterile & cold experiences we hoped wed transend sooner
later
glimpses into the life of a paranoid schitzophrinic who has his shit zipped
locked tight benath ammunition,will and adolescense
the whole polaroids a gimmick
Ive never seen with these two eyelids
Ive always heard whats been developing
hard livin should never be done without meditation
or else youll watch yourself on medication
manifesting a way back into that cerebral cortex youve come to love
but never let love you

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

FOLK LORE

The way I see it

I sit cross leged and blind folded with my palms outstretched forward

up from the ground slowly dust twirls,forms and morphs...encasing this earthly body in a tornado

treking tirelessly threw neverending canyons and upwar tunnels

the spark from my pen is erased by further notes

and I quote:

"this is the bread of my soul."

my milk are these bones,

hollow and carrying scrolls

reminding my present self of past triumph and future woes

I could tell you the exact momnt where my divided persona is one

but to guess is to love

and shes looking for somthing

and I

I Have a long...

long

ways to go.

Im cultivating hope in this green house of a home

resting somewhere inbetween these mechanical comforts

some men kill for.

such awards

THIS THAT THIS

It had been ions since I hadent needed to shake the very hand that fed my
"said"
desire to be in command...slides of hand
held by the very men who wanted to see this kingdom perish.
Careless with every fiber of my being
feelings of needless greivence is decieveing my own senses
I judge women by the way they think
she could destroy tanks with her brain waves
just saying

Monday, June 27, 2011

selina

I close my eyes and see monsters
comically exagurated ,destroying complex though rudimentary time vehicles
forceable known entries at several locations other than the victims home.
clones could be available on the market as late as noon
and by one o clock tomorrow we could all be widowers.
quiters by modern day standards,if your not already a zombie,get bent
then go fuck yourself.
vomiting dictionary symphonys at the christmas tree was not how I envisoned June
comas coupled with onsets of vertigo is how i broke into this loon
dipping my head in the ice bucket until the blood from my mouth freezes
clevage is this dog in heat
donte stallworth.
jonbenet ramsey

each

Bishop.
Cable.
the only risk was Apocalypse
who can argue with that?
gaff structures built on statues of pharohs past
worship done with psychotropic paths
nessiciarily not meant for those who dont want to understand
each has questions
each have answers.
class acts all around the room with wooing words of wisdom peppered in fractiles
for some reason I didnt trust everyone
but i listened and simmered
smashed more moonshine
now
down threw the jack rabbit crevice.
antlers sprout out of this mouth I used to use to
slaughter
those
old fashioned friends unfreightend of a sonic bloom
unaware more so.
Big stares from full glares as bright as a new moon
slewed words,large women with gargantuain glittery brains
brews splashing as we toast to the ghosts we prayed haunted us to this day.
long walks in hill country brush warms this lone soul to the lost art of being alone
truly & fully
enjoying oneself
their about the only one who sticks around besides the fading light of the nebulas.
Ive traveled to far to have this dagger in this pocket
but to trust no one is to be lacking in humility
regardless of these dagger teeth
thy eyes dream!
thine brain seeks.

"bitch"-the bitch

Theres a man wandering down the street with his intestants in his hands
Im drinking coffee on the stoop of my apartment building
the sun is melting and absorbing images in and out of various points of refrance
this is romeo and juliet on heroin.
cairrages down crenshaw where my eyes are married to the glove compartment
where the traps are parsonages
places where titans have fallen
lullabies over police scanners buzzing threw the twilight
highlighted magazines from the mid ninteis
interstate high rides
I told them not to shoot till they saw the white of their eyes
damn fools laid down their lives
Reprise:
I sent out a few kites
read my last rights
spent the rest of this life at sea with my wife,buck knife & a smile.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

It seemed as if the day was no more. As if the moments were torn from a book so gently,so elegantly,it resembled a dream which stopped and ended suddenly. In front of me sit two small statues. One is of a lion,reared back as if he were to strike,his mane glorified by the tide; The other is of a parasite,traveling from host to host threw morning,noon and from coast to coast. I sit and roast on these images as I stand at the entrance to my next begining,a giant cobblestone walk way with stain glass window fragments playing tricks on my optical sensorys. The culmination of the years previous had just ended,so then I ask what now? How does it start? Im afraid I never considered most of what I did sins...though threw reflection...I lost such good friends through death or absolute hatred...emotions are not to be played with...even when fucking around with your own. Oh God,I was born to roam.I was born to love! I was born to be the antehisis of a good hearted christian with no outward moral structure...I am kinder for a fire storm

?

...and start west.
Natural progression
my sensory memory obsession
living on the edge and this being my one regret
though never paying mind to it
regression
aforemations
contemplation on a warm pacific gold coast
third eye minded
levitation acheived by the soul
the cajolnes and head still cry home
my heart yearns for ohio
days bubble like couldrons overflowing
down rivers and past quarrys
warning!
manifestos bore me
its alarming how disconected I can appear to
"were not worthy"(ies)
perception
collecting the collected to turn them from dollar signs to a collective
head cases pumped full of cheap congac
prozac
calories
and lap bands
interconnected hate for the love of a single sect of species
we reach
only knowing we can die alone
I teach
knowing I say next to nothing in totes
Its humbleing,these days that strike like tidal waves
that churn stomachs into violent wakes
where corpses are reanimated and the patrons lay waste to the ordeurv tables
glass eyed
street car love poems

Thursday, June 23, 2011

ku

drop outs
dropping out
from the underground
hot pockets of smoke from
being around
downtown,subway cars
it had more to do with no wanting to break then to giving it all
lost sprawl ways
spilling linen sheets down the hall ways
seas of dazed children lining the walking trail
again and again
its the sounds of off color commentating
lubidos being liberated
street cars being incenerated
broken noses in flower beds
then its back to the steel mines
cost cutting and broken spines
lost children in checkout lines
holding hands with the least important find
a friend
minutes spent contemplating ends

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

FRANKIE METRO v DOC BONNIE rd.2

in a pair of green shades,
sat a rip van winkler
wondering if happy years
were something one
would find in its sleep...
or a muscle tension, hyperactive disorder
out of bounds, rust stained and carpet munched

it felt like three junes and two suns
when he woke up to the sound of
5 guns blasting holes
in the accused.

tied to a post,
forced to make with it
and mate with the conceptualized
foreskin
of a dickless ape...

I think it was burgundy shades
the presentation was full of thoughts of escape.
lay lady lay,
lay across these big brass bergades.
stray alley cat lengths of strength
her mildness
atrocious
spell bound ways of persuading
were less then hazing
more than a cascading wall of denial.
IN his life he struggled
in my life we mugged them
switch those around and have an answer.
cancer
we coughed that up.
trackers
they followed us up.
abrupt standard address tags that hold information vital
as sonar paths rumble
her eyes keep me star spangled and
bannon.


meanwhile,
imbibed with the ressurection
of a slaven dream,
the salutations commence
and burned are the tatters of a dress
burned are the ropes that tied wrists
burned are the hours we or he can sleep

"we'll look for more shooting glances
in the night sky."

i'll hear her whisper...

"Adieu."

alors qu'elle se mourait

Nous portons cette couronne de droit

pour me a bowl

back into form i storm
alarmed and clutching a forward
rewards are for the moralless drones
clones of a thief quilted
warm as a mid summers lightning bolt
i felt like 5000
smoking hash in the hallways of hostels in and along the border
storm waters brought on feelings of gathered conscience
smash hammer dagger mouthed class clowns wandering
we scaled the skyscrapers with great repoire
speaking of stocks intermittently
laughing as brashly as if colorado hadn't changed my world
dark storm clouds rolling on the lush green fields
fuel simply described as human motor oil
spoiled feelings on the lightning bugs underneath the moon
the stars
cars came rushing by as conversations pursued
consumed thoughts of blank delocation
as more is perceived
less is controlled by dablooms.
swooned by the swaying of starscapes my scalp was tingled by the news
the blues seemed the only thing appropriate in the smokey dimly lit pool room,the water glistened blue
this brings me back to her eyes,the beautiful ohio mornings that smelt like nag champa and cold rain
those mornings that let me compose this for you
when the world was in fractiles
and my muse in the next room.
the reason I still do this
so it will bring me closer to whom I believe I am
manifesting a way to see clearer
and recreate those days anew

87

star trek plays...is there no truth in beauty?

the green lights revolve around my dark keyboard strokes,

lip locked truths

sea sick yet still docked

is this moment good? could I name it God?

I use to wonder where you are...these days i cant find where your not.

Sun and the moon

I want to see both worlds as one.

Heavy foliage,

the breaking of a kings decree,

though diffrent,I hope you can see what it means to we

to us?

...hope for them is such hope for me.

sun and the moon

I want to see both worlds as one.

To teach

to learn from her

only to have her recipricate from myself

These lives seem to parallel the last one which I could not tell from a dream nor prophecy

in the light

as I sleepwalk and breathe

BITE ME- EDDY DA SAINT VS WILLY B

spilt cunt for the movie front
we were tossing drugs underneath her nose for love
her eyes were as bright as skylines
my interstate was devoid of white lines

Million broken dreams
impaled on syringes
Long sleeve summer in the city
bubblin spoons
and cotton fever
God's calling collect
but i clicked the reciever

onto the seizures
convulsions threw conversation about road rules procedures
real world grimey bliss in the misma that is a speak easy
in a modern sense ive beaten it
but in dreams you never can
cigarette butts dance from beyond your lips
Watch the city turn to ashes

third eye residual visuals
or you can call em flashbacks
from the time Spent
trapped inside a crack sacks
living out of backpacks
straining cigarette butts
out of the next morning 40 bottoms
so I didn't waste brew

ressin hits from the bow
residue from the crevices of this debit card i never use
the truth is most of the cash were after are in these warn out shoes
but...ill help you look for it...

Double knotted
so I don't get took for it
5 stack blisters
on the toes
from stepping

on dead presidents

with no residence

pestilence for the new youth glows
its beautiful today,even tomorrow
then its supernova
lines of thinly crushed stardust

lining an entire generations
sinuses

Thursday, June 16, 2011

SPE

at the center of a universe

worked over mornings so loose

she too believed life was a garden

it smealt like honey as the sun bloomed

her glass eyes sparkeled like gems as we sat around digital light

indian style...

puffing cannabis out of gravity devices

we spoke of what we speak as truths.

my soul settled

the rain collected and wrestled upon the window lips

cold cut by space heaters

soundtracked by leaves and wind infused

I need another moment beside her

Winter smoke defrosts threw our warm affectionate tones

there are so many things I wish I could sing

so many pictures in our small time line im entrigued by

I sewed my soul back together in a transparent wishing well

smiling like rivals engauged in mutual scorn

sparring the days like chest peices they play

I only pray when I sleep

she sits at the top of the pyramid temple on the river of technicolor

my constant dreamspcape

the sun is a giant diamond that shoots prisims of light over dark forest shrubbery

at the bottem of a sprawling major metro thouroughfare

inbetween the dancing skeletons and rose bushes

I have built a cottage there

stain glass windows and LBs of hasish.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Visegoth

she moves like a manta ray
swaying
crossing
making the days parade like
centuries.
her eyes are a time stretch
clutching mornings in honest retrospect
clutch word introspect
the gages are built from a cleptomaniac
stark
staggered
buildings melting realms
her scalp
smealt
of
felt
I breathe lush yellow feilds for health classes
Classless.
I sat in a Denver rat trap
guarded by evil spirts and bad ju-juu,as if drugs were scarce.
Rare was it for I to smile.
Dull eyes
witch.
glisten.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

"

I dont sleep much
nor well
it has nothing to do with fish scale
or private hells
just an air matressess.
carless actor
half-ass poet.
ghost like todo,poof,up in smoke
coast to coast
low pro
dont talk much
im not involved in lush brushs like rush
plus
I dont have a lot of time for dribble.
all it is //is hush-hush.
scribbles and pen strokes for this bloake moaning
roasting
ramble
roundhouse
flail of syllabus,
composed of smoke & a few nights in a jail house
i think it has somthing to do with failing now
im tired of my hands at rest
i need more scars
more burns
more tests
lordy lord the herds are marching to slaughter
i feel otherworldly at hours
still.
power
lack there of
the over whelming lust for knowledge
all crushed
satellite/meteorite
long bearded man-child
driving at top gear on a motorizedhover-bike.
david icke.
half hour power outage
brain circuts circus
warning
I think im into belly dancers & isolated train
compartments with fine cigars and catered diner cars.
submerged memories;crumbled pages of memoirs
battle scars so hideous they need beauty marks
star charts
dark arts
mirrors for line division
night vision
& the way she walks alone in the park
unafraid of sharks
I mumble out sparks,I see stars
she been abucted by aliens before
"god damn"
I say
"what exactly was it you saw?"
she rambles on
&
on.
until she can barely talk
we both havent walked in moments
so my dead legs burn as I try to adjust
I can feel it in my SOUL that this took all her
trust.
but adjusted truth,proven fact
speculation,generalizations
& doubt
I was out of things to do
I never controled anything,why should I be able to
for you
I'd do anything
splatter my brains in revolutionary tales for decades
until they become
legand
that becomes myth
& the sands of time wash it away...
I never wanted to be anything,and look at me now,I'm exactly that
except with the stroke of a pen,
& the right shake of a hand that could all
end.
its all spin,until rent cant come up again
but thats why I have friends who dont know my kin
now & again
I'll lend a helping hand to uphold a sentence
Ill never serve one
unless I plan it.
finish him,rings in my head as I walk threw the valley of death
...I wish this was one of those for 'instances'
or all for divedends
but again
I stress
Its just the paranoia I live in
at least I admit it,
never let it get all in
because once you lose sight
it could all
end.

Monday, June 13, 2011

contour

Tomfoolery is nothing new to me
I dig and dash ruthlessly
I scam and claw fluidly
sparked by old diamonds in stone

impressions of progression
reckless listless stretching
speaking in tounges as we discuss ways to meet our doom

she smiles over her milkshake
her poodle dress scrapes my leg

I think Im in love.

Holding hands in bombing raids
her hopeless bats make her tears foxtrot from her eyelashes
hostel realities of a hideious colamity
this whole island is mimicing an anchor decent to a bay

catatomic hand relays
foot in mouth union addresses
mixed feelings on tourute methods

the sun supernovas
but she whispers your a blessing

I think this second lets the universe fall to place.

Peices storm into combustion
blankets of stars have a waltz in a classy fashion
rotations are placed into fashionable puzzle places
fashioned peices of captial investments infractions

we slowly twist and turn to the sounds of capital
new places to rest our strewn
blooming into new realities

the ocean zeniths from the frontol lobe
our speech are rich with nutrients

her eyes sparkle wildly as we dance in orbit around our destiny

rolling in the grass

fixtrues of the community
littered blisters on each inch of the skin they had so delicatly worn
standing on an overutned ant pile she took on the form
of the queen
mourn the stages she had bore
born from the wages of train station fees and flight coupons at conveince whore
we wore down the defense
the train kept thrusting
and the whistleing wailed over the morning

it was chrisp,dimmy lit,everything was covered in dew.

the stationary bodies were convincing enoug to pursue
pursuadeded by truency the army lost each platoon
more and more I grew enraged but accepted it and most hold true
steadily
slowly plotting empending doom
over cocktails of ice water and lime juice
this brain chemistry was to the point of obscurity
nothing more was needed to screw
as
we
grew up.

We also slept more and more

Thursday, June 9, 2011

XOXO

I see her brain as an aligarchy
the seas lost to contours
the whole chestboards in flames
the new game is of thrones
more and more we breathe like its a chore
when every second is a gift
lists of things i love
an even larger one of things I diss
its bliss to be so synical with a sense of humor
some more of us were born to be like this
if I were to kiss her cheek,could I have a sequal of the neck
blessed be the diamonds in the glisterine
dont be afraid to say anything
just learn from it

wizard

brain damage at the camp for the swine
crossbows,laserbeams and tools of the trade
whos envading who ?
bannana leaves,virgins and straw huts thrown togetger
most of the party was strewn up amongst the debree
flabbergasted
I did the ratchet,simotaneiously scalping everyone in this scene
post apocolyptic veiws
down by the river quarry
a place where querys were a bloom
the quiet theory about revolvers
were they were a quick end to veiws
all colors,all suits.
some values
No true act followed the end of the womb
her last child was drowned in order to pay dues
gloom and how the changes daze
days counted by skeletons of youth
loose is the way we love
scattered is the way we use
her eyes told stories of me
my lips turned to poetry in relif
the greif now churns in dreams
i need peace,but war is just a stomp of the feet
but defeat is what I laugh about
because it only requires small victories
but after tonight when the moon is lonely
Ill shine my sun,
and her vibes will comfort me

mimosa

I lack blood sports in vein
planes charleston past theses windows
clubbed
its not so glourius entrenched in stories
explaning...it seems
or as much as it should be
see
when my hands have finally stopped shaking
and my mouth is left celebrating a defeat with decapitation of small antiques
dawn rapes my sensory feilds in the warning
blades dig into heels on the street
and the only thing I wish to heal is my gun powder burns
or my left nostrel,for it seems as though it may collapse in a collage of blood shed
not from receinct activity
I just have mathematical equivalents to the amounts of idiots
pilots
blips on the radar screams
good lord im lost in this scene
breath is more delicatly seen in the face of wild anatomical beings
clean hands: clean electricution chambers
it seems as though were facing a breakthrough in post apocolyptic rhetoric
two man enter one man leave shit
excuse me while I open the vines to these 60 degree mornings in fullerton puffing on this cannabis which is too obvious to be peeped
decrees are for horse jockeys and moms with to much time on their hand
the plan keeps ending but the same course keeps happening
so champaigne it is
I still think about her like a convict thinks about jail
hell
pour me another mimosa