Friday, April 1, 2011

Grasping

Stretching
Reaching
Echoeing
something

Chaotic borders
about yeah thick
crossed by consiousness
fallow infernal lies
theory of mind
hyper active hypothesis
over active imaginings
web service
spider.

Dates and dining
ends and becomings
reflections on this
what I was
while I am
death slough off
this dingy mess
this theory ununderstandable
unity more than mere thought
grasping stretching
money making
kings of flesh
stomach growling.

World views unattainable
here is what I be
and to the master dictation
hand on stylus
spinning needles and moments
generational crossing
ancestral descendents
lies
theory in mind altering
like galaxies spirialing.

Just one small thing:
I own the copyright
and
I get all the royalties
Look!
Lo!
Behold!

That mote of molten gold at my feet!
Do you even have a crown to cast at me?

In life grasping
In death dying
This is what is coming.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Written In Stone

The angled minds of men
like chipping tools
with agenda
forming tribes and cities and nations
currents in the sea
eddies cropping up against me
setting your army
in the midst of me
but in shadows
where you cast yourselves
for the glory of your leaders
your idols
is the true accomplishment
the treasure only I will see.

The Evening Star

Conception indivisible
invisible behind the soul
come to reach the cusp
forming like sponge
information to last to see
around to visibility
in a core of corpse cycling
wishing to be in evening
a spider walked up to me
and laughed at my complexity
it was part of me
pointing:

"You dog you can
I'll kick you down
crawl up the sprout
then down and out
stories of rain
fire
what have you
back to opposed you
palm due
radial symmetry
do you know even an eighth of me?"

Here be birth again to me.




Monday, February 7, 2011

Been Workin'

I'm returning to the blog the 29th of March 2011
00.38.08.27

Saturday, January 22, 2011

I Can't Fit In Your Cranial System

...do you know my codename
for when your disaster takes place
wise and prudent mighty men
you had better call out for Kool-Aid!!!!!...


All Is Truistic Only if All Is Truistic Back

I say I burnt my lips
on a civilized red hot coal
and left some footprints
in words that read:
"One for All and All for One"
and the thunder
broke the Oak asunder
burning all the levels after and before
and the voice from before and after
was new all along.


Them Who Have an Ear Let Them Hear

It is no wonder
that the Earth turns so slow:
it is resting on a turtle.

It is the turtle that called out
and the big bang occurred.

And it was to all the eggs
in the sands on the shore
that came before this one
that it was calling to.

Friday, January 14, 2011

The Nonremeberance of The Heavy Egg

Here my absence is heavy
and my ignorance shame
the lack of understanding jealousy
and to that it falls the blame
for who is to say
what imagines this being
and who is to sway
what is alien to passing

Here is the new knowledge
only inferiority can see
down on the lowest
is cast such sight
and laughter abates
in solitude it grows
and echoes across
till remains
still corpse
at end of the roads
on the oak pole
that which had fallen
into rotten dreams
and rebirthed fables
from fibs of children and the bribe
for bids on the bib the heavy egg called

So in thunder asunder
I say to the leader of all
sacked this sacred grove
the keepers of words
and copyrights
catch this lightning
if you can
and contain this wonder
if you feel mighty man
pass to rest
and on to banter
the holy druid that no law remembers.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Dreams Have Passed but Yet to Come

Her voice was soft
and the question bizzare
her tears were profuse
and the palms of her hands hard

I saw the green all around
the beginning of a new season
it was hers
it was ours

it took some time
but the image vivid
an angel said:

"Dreams have come to pass
but are yet to be."

...in all the colors
he stood staring
at the wonderful lark
who jumped twig to twig
as winds spiraled through

seeing things that were not there
and hearing sounds none could hear
like a close caress some lips
thrown at him
admixture of visions
and beats of heart
like thunder and lightnng this time she said:

"What is the shovel
and what do you dig?"

for deepness and knowing
hardened I knock
hair keeps on growing
and time does not stop
I riddle I hide my choicest delights
for few look to see this night
and my hands are free and ilde to speak
to burn these bushes isolate conversations
digging for wisdom that none here will benefit
for pride haunts them
because my will is strong
and them I can't outrun
no really
I dig for your heart
my love.

My hand was wet
and her hair bore scarlet
and overcome by some spell
the season had come
the threshold
the harshness will peak
sleep.

For if I could I'd breath over this corpse
like a wild lion from some myth
I'd roar and animate atoms
to spring a nest
like a wonderous wonderful city
and we'd take a breath
and there'd be no ease
experience could compare
no joy to contain the urge
to dance in the light of energy unreal
you'd be like some Queen
and I a King
like that of the forgotten land
but there we'd blend in
for there is no pride more
than in that corpse that gave birth
to the city of love
there in time it weeps
and back bending wiping the tears from our eye
some elderly imaginative father
battling harm again and again
in pride of his silly creation
that to unleash the grip
would burn all before
and there we'd sit
enthroned in love
dancing forevermore.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Snowblind II

As the voice caresses my feet
I float in wonder at his grace
for it is no longer in my face
and tripping to fall
over him no more

Go home
it says like waterfalls
the shear volume alone
makes shhhhh seem tame
Quiet!
one half hour in shaman land
down the mountain
the snowy show
the absent channel
seen no more.

Today

What is this army of locusts
making the community restless
murmuring vainity?
as the leaders of the Earth
get together to plan a future
void of the self existent
and his chosen one saying:

"Get rid of this belief
and destroy this inclination
contrary to our profitable ways."

The Mighty Shaman
who lives unseen
in mystical places
will jeer and mock
with satire unbound
confusing them
with strange talk
leaving them unfound

At which time
his anger will blaze
and his voice will soar
utterly destroying their way
bringing dread into their hearts
with his unfettered fury
wild and strong singing:

"'Tis I who raise the King
on my most holy mountain
and all else do I own!

What was the scribble and the scrat
on these four plum walls?
This is the enactment of the self-existence
consider this way my offspring
and I will give you what is mine
for all eternity.

Continue asking
and I will give
locusts as your own
and the inheritance
will be the Earth
and its true destiny

with the staff
you will make them meek
and annihilate greediness
as if it were empty glass bottles
shattering to a million pieces."

So mighty men
show wisdom today
in a simple decision
and seek out
and find
the King

Tremble at his powerful way
and feel happy
when you see him

bow before the inner height
because his shunning
will cause you to linger
in dangers because
his anger flares easily

Holy and untouchable
is the one lost
and being eaten
by his ways
for in him he is hidden
on that day for all his days.

Monday, December 27, 2010

stoned

Youth encoded in esoteric shadows
generational gaps laps around the head
left in dust glitter and gold
tears at home mama more
the cure for stoned

Running Circles (Cernunnos 8, 0038 : 14.28.13)

Stars
running circles around my head
Eddies
running circles around my heart
peacock plume
shade from the sun
and shelter from the storm

Falling in with the crowd
the click of the ratchet is complete
what makes meek
kneeling on the ground suffering starvation
that's the bottom line
skinned red knees
mercurochrome Mama
ionized all in time
the pillars of salt in the community
keeping the roads drivable
rip and runoff
don't mind it keep flowin'
keep pushin'
beardown here it comes

Swimming circles around the throne
apparent in all its formality
no deeper did I look
no sooner did I die
reaping all the souls that are mine
come and play
I'll meet you there for I am first
and when you see the dread
in my eyes
You will run circles in my mind
and chased out
I'll meet you there
for I am first
my tears are the rain
and the universe is all
running circles around my mind
and eddies physically intwined.

Playground

They sat
and the advocate stood
where and when no one else would
the red on his clothes was blood
but you'd think it was tomatoes
to participate they throw food
and what was the argument?

Accused
so much time and lives wasted
on a freely chosen lie.

Who's to blame?
but to bribe
the impudent advocate
in the shadow
of one they don't see
but stumble over the blockage in the heart.

In this court there is no order
beyond his own.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Snowblind

Ascend the snowy white mountain at dawn
you are way too young to experience this
the child barely knows whats wrong
much less the ability for eternal bliss.

Turn around and go home
the snow stuck to your feet
will melt as you are done.


Saturday, December 18, 2010

The Satire

At those who higher
so those unfortunate
can crack a smile
and give oppression
the faith in examples
for changing the entire
world with one choice
sudden and swift.


In Their Mirror I Looked

Rites of passage
show me your ID
if I don't like your answer
you cannot enter
but maybe
when you come of age
you will look in my mirror
and share stories
in some time and place.


The Acorn Harvest (35/05/0038 : 04.44.79)

I

I hear the machine talking nonsense
in its essence it's childlike
the banter it blames on my face
is the scent it sells in my place
to them in wish the hunger it comes
to purify the debt perfection had won
to mollify and eliminate
all lower life forms and decimate
into sole lonliness
death low cost debates
pure clean energy
fairy land
synergy
to dance in starlight the genius prates
in fallen ashen clouds over one year old
and the change of pace and scenery

II

Here I sit in an empty chair
squeaking the springs with real hair
torque of the physical world
spirit projections of disbelief
here real men they hurry
or women stealing in the night
the sleds of higher ranking men
and pasts of kings delight
somatic borrowed spiritual light
to conquer all kings to come
and in this empty chair
the humming of the furry arm
the guide I spell
and words all wrong
there is a delay in the marionette
and finding the story before it ends
far it will be fallen
and the shells are white and clean
because of the Clorox TM bleach
will I ever recover from these ancient secrets
being literate watching the wall and texts
creeping in
harvest
the forest of microcosmic delusions
relativistic spacial adheshion
the center of direction and life force
only eddy in one many

Friday, December 17, 2010

Peak Brilliance (summa cum laude)

They celebrate the intellect
with cold-hearted affections
for the flesh is too far to touch
and uncertain in its love

They fear the face plain for all to see
and in advertisments fall short
of their own living being

The determined pressure from heights above
establishes the whips of the chained hordes

And a voice stretches across the sea
calling from ash the army
and from the intermitent place of absence
light is shed upon the carcass
just as it must be

They celebrate the life to come
while wallowing drunk
inebriate to Jupiter's light
Vesper's death in new morning is bright
He returns with a new name
in full strength to shoulder the blame.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Second Sight

The projection through the trees
the mask that begs please
Bright pre-dawn jitters
few critters
nick knockin' click clockin'
tweet tweetin' reposing responding
phoney correct pronunciation
dunce on the hill dirty mouthing
the local spiritual leader in spirit
for a deep rooted misunderstanding of respect
what is My name?

What is the accent of my heart
the wild misgivings
about the treatment of women
pasts and futures planned
already written in possibilities
scratching bare surfaces
breaking splinters in prized staff
for a cane in old age
and wisdom of past histories
and modern mythical stories are not as holy
downright.

So the song was already sung
and the beat I think I heard in the stars
and the voices were deadly harsh
and the Earth did hear at moments loud
proclamations of simple choices
both quick and sudden
written ether coinciding
with levels of truth that we are hiding
behind mirrors of behavior
primal.

And there it was giving strength
by its name
and the leader that this colony claims
through the knowledge of its history it blames
called by name and expounded throughout the galaxy
and echo un herd
solitary
separate
I am not one of you
you are one with me
I think there is a tribe that bares my name
I've dwelt there since the beginning
and in the wrong I've been blamed
the brand of the spoon and shame
do you know My name?

So bright and clouds came
the last thing seen
and into eddy son
back
root
sleep
time all
not come
rest I am here
and I know your name
the hour is set.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Humanity Is Love

Love is base and epiphenomenal to all else:
being behind and above every action,
below and beyond everything,
and in the wonders of humanity
forsaking all objectivity
it is the truth of this matter ephemerally
we carry forever in that moment we be.


Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Fear of Being Perceived

Taught manners
Bonzai!!!!
taught response
taught to swim
in a group in sin
taught to bow
unliving
makin' money
crowded
bound
fear of being perceived.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Rails the Sign of Chaos

It shines like shattered glass
on the side of a mountain unseen
just beyond the rail
that guards us from chaos.

It is posted pure
like a profitical magazine
that adheres to the stream
of the consciousness keeping
the ikon clean
with products smelling nice
and soap white knuckled
to sheol shroud
hope forgotten scene.

There used to be cobblestone-now
we are horseless breathe-in
the tire dust it will get you home-quickly.


Inbrandishingmeant

And in her eyes I she what I meant
those moments young again
and a curl of the lip
bidden

And in her hands I feel what I meant
no bounds no whip no torment
no promise or butter product
my brand

My heart holds a brand
and beats whole hallowed in between
those moments I see
time spending moving
stories and scenes
hang-ups dramatic from pasts digested

what is unclean
in habits given
we nail down the flesh
and our spirits mesh
and dread flapping in the wind
moving love again

no sugar no honey
no bees
humor captivating intellectual wondering
scolding brat fits
perfectly
complementary
unowned
hugging me

unspoken knowing moments meant
youth claims my future
inbrandishingmeant

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Freedom

Lift up you knees
on this march towards winter's eve
yes it is quite dark
and any glimmer or semblance of light
has been shown to be
nothing but sin
individually you lose
and they win
you've been broken
hear the crack of the whip
cream of the crop product
it's all you got left.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Sugar Bars

Eight bars of 5/8 song
sweet talking going on
mystic delerium strong
humility

whistle and hum
crescendo chant
some mysterious star
moving among the trees
the dead bodies

sun has over shined
this one done
new bars
sweeter than before
eddies on and on
dancing in some
relativistic wilderness of numbers
mist looking on
back one summer one circle of a day
and one winter same as the night
forty and one-hundred-twenty-five
three-point-one-four-one-five-nine
into infinity...

Saturday, November 6, 2010

In the Bank

small talk
bored in snow
make yourself at home
exaggerate to defy the thought
behavior elementary continue please
rain

northeast weather
don't complain
rain

crows carring disater on the call
if hawks could they would caw
but the post scary hay stuffed
for the sins of all

blood spilled on the leaves
rocky glass painful tease
at last the end has come
this world is done

talk it over
welcome back
don't mind the compromise
get it done
food on table
bacon home

boiling run
fun

Broken Prophecy Publicly Speaking

Public forum
foreign tongue
melody blasphemy
bring before me
any one condeming
and out from their feet
universal grace
show them the furnace
the desolate place
that contains therein no one
and out comes after dusts to dusts
purer than pure gold
more funtional more useful
like glorious kings of old
enter that place one by one
in glory of kingdoms
of childrens imaginations
that could not kill soul
nor empty mountains of gold
nor be sold
for in the shadow
the heart of language
no trust of men could courage
no rust or moth consume
dusty attics
old toys
bats set free
from bell towers
at those hours the flesh does sleep
no more cosmetics cheap
at expense of sufferings
of uncounted sheep
dead in the blast killing millions
but only one species reported
to ash in that matter
black moth rising
oil spilling surprising
years upon years knowing
just rewards coming
public joyous kingdom
put a damper by death
the faithless
self existence
that world is ending
here is the border
shiver in chaos
dread the voice
and the temper
the timbre
temple
the spirit is awaken
spongyform colony
choosing discrepancies
love mending misphilosophies
hear the children singing
the sight a misfortune
rolling pumpkin heads hand shakes
dissappointment
a vote for them
against the true king
mirror image shadow hording
calling breath rambling heart chanting
terrible things but beauty therein
releasing armies from hades
the battle begins
power of the engine
dye again
paint the lightning
thunder and harm again
polling down roots
of old trees breaking
sidewalk solutions
baby land pillar of economy falling
dread
lost income
dead
fight once again as refined majesty
glory is coming
condemnation and curse waving
listen vengeance begins
don't lay the line of concern for him
it is simply his hairy tick's he may be carring
unorthodox steps
public forum
chanting tongue
respect the living
listen to your Holy King
Let the dead be burying thier dead:
walk with me now or get out of my way
tree being falling calling my name
Dawn Star rising again
welcome to the eddy
pentagonal kick to the shin
dig?
feast on the flesh of kings
this day knowing what it means.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Torn Flesh and Emotions Fight, Flight, and Run

Early for a choice such as this
caught in the rays beginning in the East
a sight on horizons in tangents do come
torn flesh and emotions fight, flight, and run.

To take to the sky complications rife
strife and strive for endings plain
again the sound come over the seas
please return to home and be

ever again
calling words
hearing rants
having truth

Are scribbling to feel a certain way
day after day it comes this way
making warnings like on iron road
or twinkling signs banging the road

beating the chest
laying the law
scribing the line
maklawfaw

and here comes the dreaded time
wineless inebriation feeling fine
just
a little vengeance
unworthy of holiness
yet coming that time

Forgetting some silly wish
sun setting in the west
Earth plays rhythms like my drum
torn flesh and emotions fight, flight, and run.