Been Workin'

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.