20051215
Shallow vista
Nothing, an armchair frown reflects in the video screen the sad frame from which some flesh hangs nothing this lack of movement feels like freedom like a warm coat on a dripping day raining away like cracked leather in a dirty El Camino where i cut flesh into various shapes reminding me of those who have forgotten how to express love i want you all to suffer as if you could perceive reality from my vantage point (a shallow vista of sorts) - with eyes wide open to the nothing that you are.
20051128
A brush full of fog
An empty canvas calling
wakes me from a dream
in which i had been falling
or flying so it seems…
with a brush full of fog and a head full of hollow
i painted a wet path and dulled out the street lights below
that shone on her face all wrapped up in gauze,
she had been made a gift, a pretty plastic lift,
though her soul they had failed to change
a ‘lift’, that’s what they call it in that language
it’s really no more than an elevator
and i promise, this one only goes to heaven
because nothing works in hell.
wakes me from a dream
in which i had been falling
or flying so it seems…
with a brush full of fog and a head full of hollow
i painted a wet path and dulled out the street lights below
that shone on her face all wrapped up in gauze,
she had been made a gift, a pretty plastic lift,
though her soul they had failed to change
a ‘lift’, that’s what they call it in that language
it’s really no more than an elevator
and i promise, this one only goes to heaven
because nothing works in hell.
20051002
20050930
PerimeTer
Passion for life
evolved, drew silent faces,
revolved, while sparkling caricatures of
intimate seeded futures
merged into the deep lines of my faults
enhanced.
Teleported, i did, and told a friend about the
end, then skimming the outer rim,
returned to begin... again?
evolved, drew silent faces,
revolved, while sparkling caricatures of
intimate seeded futures
merged into the deep lines of my faults
enhanced.
Teleported, i did, and told a friend about the
end, then skimming the outer rim,
returned to begin... again?
20050917
20050915
Green
That 'something' profound has yet to make it's way,
has somehow gotten lost
or simply failed to show it's face
or maybe it's that i haven't been looking in the right direction -
or haven't been trying hard enough,
or have simply failed to be strong enough
to bring about some change
whatever the reason for it's reluctance to appear
i feel there is a direct connection with this situation and
my lack of will to continue.
has somehow gotten lost
or simply failed to show it's face
or maybe it's that i haven't been looking in the right direction -
or haven't been trying hard enough,
or have simply failed to be strong enough
to bring about some change
whatever the reason for it's reluctance to appear
i feel there is a direct connection with this situation and
my lack of will to continue.
20050810
Changeling
Violent i have bled
a river from the head
a book i've never read
speaks volumes of it's father
changeling this is costly
you should have never crossed me
a dead girl walking softly
through minds ablaze a daughter
your math is a lie
a science that cannot die
as necessary as you and I
look closely and you'll spot her.
a river from the head
a book i've never read
speaks volumes of it's father
changeling this is costly
you should have never crossed me
a dead girl walking softly
through minds ablaze a daughter
your math is a lie
a science that cannot die
as necessary as you and I
look closely and you'll spot her.
20050619
Lighthouse
Tendrils, your arms shot outward like mighty missiles headed home
as four fingers forward, mine, waved through the mist left behind
wishing i had never known
such despair.
two beacons, your eyes were beaming giants of the purest black light
searching me as you spoke to me, carefully following the vapor trail of
my longing
for touch.
a fog, a haze, a somehow better, more attractive state - my departure
i am the multitude of opportunities passed over, caught in the draft of your pulling away
and indifference
to love.
as four fingers forward, mine, waved through the mist left behind
wishing i had never known
such despair.
two beacons, your eyes were beaming giants of the purest black light
searching me as you spoke to me, carefully following the vapor trail of
my longing
for touch.
a fog, a haze, a somehow better, more attractive state - my departure
i am the multitude of opportunities passed over, caught in the draft of your pulling away
and indifference
to love.
20050609
20050519
Brown eyes - burning
The day my hand stopped moving was
the day i failed to meet you
so i cut a hole in the space before me
to craft a face as yours, a door, see
and i'd have you look upon me
while removing all surface meaning
so that you might see the real thing
that i am and not the loathing
pause
breathe in
begin again
exhaling, my hand a motion takes
untethered the past emotion fakes
a smile suggests an ocean breaks
a dam for brown eyes - burning.
the day i failed to meet you
so i cut a hole in the space before me
to craft a face as yours, a door, see
and i'd have you look upon me
while removing all surface meaning
so that you might see the real thing
that i am and not the loathing
pause
breathe in
begin again
exhaling, my hand a motion takes
untethered the past emotion fakes
a smile suggests an ocean breaks
a dam for brown eyes - burning.
20050328
Lover
Leaving was the strangest part
of my days with you, always
verging on the inevitable, recalling
each day, incredible, like a love song
reminding, how love could be blinding.
of my days with you, always
verging on the inevitable, recalling
each day, incredible, like a love song
reminding, how love could be blinding.
20050322
Ours
I feel on the verge of an idea, on the brink of something apocolyptic like there's something teetering on the tip of my tongue, sitting there semi-lucid,
waiting for a tap on the shoulder
it's female, this thing that drives me to static interludes,
or moments of clarity, or a stillness that i cannot reach simply by not moving
and in this docile state, i would think that she would show herself, but the truth never comes - at least not in this frame
and you know i am still often amazed when i see one of you pass me by
maybe i am disturbed by the free will you possess, something so natural so obviously normal, gives me the chills
that we are separate entitites, does not somehow make sense to me,
but maybe i simply live too often the public life on the surface,
foregoing the underlying of which i am so fond
(that the love i want to feel for you all would be discarded, breaks me)
and thus i'm on the verge of greatness of messianic proportions, but if i allow myself to believe this absurdity then i am surely doomed, aren't i?
for we know damn well that all visionaries must die violently
so... a visionary? me? no, surely not
the messiah? yeah right
all i ever wanted to do was prove to you that you are the thing that i cannot believe myself to be
in this, my current evolution, i am finding it difficult to believe the truth; a truth that is not only mine but rather, each and every one of ours.
waiting for a tap on the shoulder
it's female, this thing that drives me to static interludes,
or moments of clarity, or a stillness that i cannot reach simply by not moving
and in this docile state, i would think that she would show herself, but the truth never comes - at least not in this frame
and you know i am still often amazed when i see one of you pass me by
maybe i am disturbed by the free will you possess, something so natural so obviously normal, gives me the chills
that we are separate entitites, does not somehow make sense to me,
but maybe i simply live too often the public life on the surface,
foregoing the underlying of which i am so fond
(that the love i want to feel for you all would be discarded, breaks me)
and thus i'm on the verge of greatness of messianic proportions, but if i allow myself to believe this absurdity then i am surely doomed, aren't i?
for we know damn well that all visionaries must die violently
so... a visionary? me? no, surely not
the messiah? yeah right
all i ever wanted to do was prove to you that you are the thing that i cannot believe myself to be
in this, my current evolution, i am finding it difficult to believe the truth; a truth that is not only mine but rather, each and every one of ours.
20050316
Beautiful figment
Oh beautiful one,
you with the golden smile
i thought you should know
i've cherished you now for quite awhile
after twenty years, i thought you should know
and it seems
you are a figment
some kind of intangible observer
inherently safe within the confines of a dream
there,
my hands cannot touch you,
my lips cannot kiss you,
nor words, can they reach you
so fear not, my figment - you are well preserved
and clutching your knees into your chest
you smile in my direction as if suggesting...
somehow saying, "i do not see you the way you seem to."
and i have watched you watching me for so long now
sitting there in some phantom pasture,
underneath a generic sort of tree
with the wind blowing gently through your hair
i have watched you sitting there
and i have convinced myself that your smile,
albeit an equation of some kind of chemical persuasion,
was an invitation for a rendezvous
but i could never seem to find you,
that kind of tree doesn't seem to grow here anymore.
you with the golden smile
i thought you should know
i've cherished you now for quite awhile
after twenty years, i thought you should know
and it seems
you are a figment
some kind of intangible observer
inherently safe within the confines of a dream
there,
my hands cannot touch you,
my lips cannot kiss you,
nor words, can they reach you
so fear not, my figment - you are well preserved
and clutching your knees into your chest
you smile in my direction as if suggesting...
somehow saying, "i do not see you the way you seem to."
and i have watched you watching me for so long now
sitting there in some phantom pasture,
underneath a generic sort of tree
with the wind blowing gently through your hair
i have watched you sitting there
and i have convinced myself that your smile,
albeit an equation of some kind of chemical persuasion,
was an invitation for a rendezvous
but i could never seem to find you,
that kind of tree doesn't seem to grow here anymore.
The flowing
If there is nothing between any two given bodies in space
then what is it that holds the two bodies apart?
if there is nothing to separate me from you
then why should we live our lives as two?
the emptiness that warrants the illusion of distance
must not be real, therefore
distance is a dream
a tool to keep us sane
a surface structure
built to sustain an earthly organic reality
some will call it gravity
as if trying to destroy me
because clinging to science
for some, seems to be a good remedy
for fear
and because the idea that there is no amount of space between you and i,
that we are indeed, all, somehow interconnected, is too much of a
stretch for us in our current evolution to even begin to try to accept, we will continue killing one another as if we were'nt killing ourselves
and below - the underlying - a true perfection
not, as of yet, for human eyes; the flowing goes.
then what is it that holds the two bodies apart?
if there is nothing to separate me from you
then why should we live our lives as two?
the emptiness that warrants the illusion of distance
must not be real, therefore
distance is a dream
a tool to keep us sane
a surface structure
built to sustain an earthly organic reality
some will call it gravity
as if trying to destroy me
because clinging to science
for some, seems to be a good remedy
for fear
and because the idea that there is no amount of space between you and i,
that we are indeed, all, somehow interconnected, is too much of a
stretch for us in our current evolution to even begin to try to accept, we will continue killing one another as if we were'nt killing ourselves
and below - the underlying - a true perfection
not, as of yet, for human eyes; the flowing goes.
20050221
True neutral
In the five o'clock dream there had been mention of a place
where she had roamed and felt no hate
where she had dwelt and knew no love
and this had been deemed heaven
notes were taken, statistics logged, reports reported
'when is she coming back?' the queston was posed
'who is she anyways?' a second arose
and then fading to grey, a light eventually made it's
way through the splintered sliver of an opening that signalled the
waking state
realization often comes without warning and from
places that defy pragmatic understanding
from the imperceptible came a truth
that maybe to know love is not to love
but instead to move through this world embracing all
that we can perceive
and residing in my mind, still live the fragments of that feminine form
walking away from me into a vast swirling desert,
fading slowly into an unfamiliar horizon -
where she had roamed and felt no hate
where she had dwelt and knew no love
and this had been deemed heaven
notes were taken, statistics logged, reports reported
'when is she coming back?' the queston was posed
'who is she anyways?' a second arose
and then fading to grey, a light eventually made it's
way through the splintered sliver of an opening that signalled the
waking state
and so I have learned:
realization often comes without warning and from
places that defy pragmatic understanding
from the imperceptible came a truth
that maybe to know love is not to love
but instead to move through this world embracing all
that we can perceive
and residing in my mind, still live the fragments of that feminine form
walking away from me into a vast swirling desert,
fading slowly into an unfamiliar horizon -
somehow, by turning away, she had finally come home.
20050217
Sensory depravation chamber or Hand in mask
All through these random days
with a mask on my hand, with a crime that pays
without a voice, without a place, without a care
i am grains of wet sand conglomerating into smallish, giant piles
then dividing into predictable patterns of silence
my mouth, a teethy mess, a crimson nothing swallowing,
a gurgling volcano struggling to call out a name
throwing out strings of empty morphemes
colliding in massive formations - your eyes, yes then:
your eyes, they slowly realize the living vision of the ungod
projected in the mirror before you
the unwe that we separate into when we deny our singular state
and so,
no more prospects on the way to boredom
you've become everything they thought i'd ever be
(an eyelash broken tumbles, crashes through layers of structured logic)
"you've got to get real close, ya know, to see this kind of thing"
and though your empty successes were all it took for me
to move through the gates and find the owner
and scream scream scream out my anger
and release the beast of a notion
that his eyes had not given me the power
to know that every day is danger
and that every day is getting stranger,
i want to live free of my mind
so put the leathers down and disrobe
strip away the new for the old
forget the periods that separate distinct streams of thought
for we've made a place for you here in this bushy grove
a fresh hole, a cool cauldron where we make a magic that can alter states of being
and thus being slated for the next round of cuts,
i must prepare my things for the inevitable journey ahead,
for
i'm going to step into the dead black water
and lay myself down and shut the door
hook myself up to electrodes
and forever dream this day away,
as one last thought escapes me
"i wasn't really here anyway"
well, at least that's what the instruments say.
with a mask on my hand, with a crime that pays
without a voice, without a place, without a care
i am grains of wet sand conglomerating into smallish, giant piles
then dividing into predictable patterns of silence
my mouth, a teethy mess, a crimson nothing swallowing,
a gurgling volcano struggling to call out a name
throwing out strings of empty morphemes
colliding in massive formations - your eyes, yes then:
your eyes, they slowly realize the living vision of the ungod
projected in the mirror before you
the unwe that we separate into when we deny our singular state
and so,
no more prospects on the way to boredom
you've become everything they thought i'd ever be
(an eyelash broken tumbles, crashes through layers of structured logic)
"you've got to get real close, ya know, to see this kind of thing"
and though your empty successes were all it took for me
to move through the gates and find the owner
and scream scream scream out my anger
and release the beast of a notion
that his eyes had not given me the power
to know that every day is danger
and that every day is getting stranger,
i want to live free of my mind
so put the leathers down and disrobe
strip away the new for the old
forget the periods that separate distinct streams of thought
for we've made a place for you here in this bushy grove
a fresh hole, a cool cauldron where we make a magic that can alter states of being
and thus being slated for the next round of cuts,
i must prepare my things for the inevitable journey ahead,
for
i'm going to step into the dead black water
and lay myself down and shut the door
hook myself up to electrodes
and forever dream this day away,
as one last thought escapes me
"i wasn't really here anyway"
well, at least that's what the instruments say.
20050211
Dove
Dreams of my body sprouting wings of fire, come
on waves of sound, drifting between production and perception, leaving
vacant trails of surface meaning, quiescing
eternally, burning, maternal she... dove.
on waves of sound, drifting between production and perception, leaving
vacant trails of surface meaning, quiescing
eternally, burning, maternal she... dove.
20050130
Can't be
Brought golden light from massive hole in the sky, says i am the guy, wants reconciliation can't feel myself today, can't see myself the same way, the sane way, the glass distorts, fractures a copy, a cloned boy, snap, flash, new perception of self, im okay, the truth has somehow made its way, has revealed itself through this haze, or am i living an illusion, rekindled cerebral confusion, lost not knowing which way is up, what is real, what i feel, can't trust the senses, somehow must find something to hold onto, a railing of sorts, because the ship is sailing on choppy seas, gotta get up off my knees, gotta break the glass, becoming, see the classroom humming, smell the yellow dumbing down that is america, can't stand, can't see, can't feel, can't flee, can't be ... can't be... can't be... me.
20050127
Messiah
Messiah comes, spins on silver beach, revolver
eyes none he has one hand ready to deliver
soul another blackened mother broken other
to six below
says transcendence is inevitable
though knowing time's regrettable
passes by
creeping sky
big hand chasing smaller
cherish waste
transparent face
melting moments water
messianic dream now separate into fundamental parts
become one with none
move backwards brushstrokes seemingly frozen
beginning, ending, begin again - maintain dysfunctionality of time.
eyes none he has one hand ready to deliver
soul another blackened mother broken other
to six below
says transcendence is inevitable
though knowing time's regrettable
passes by
creeping sky
big hand chasing smaller
cherish waste
transparent face
melting moments water
messianic dream now separate into fundamental parts
become one with none
move backwards brushstrokes seemingly frozen
beginning, ending, begin again - maintain dysfunctionality of time.
20050125
Magic shovel
In her dreams i had been the wild one
so often the the child son
of the left handed hired gun
lift now
change yourself
put your mind in a new state
pause for five seconds
continue:
so on now we cast ourselves into non-rhythmic
nonsense
not following any pretense
or any state legislated sequence
turn away
glance back
realize that meaning is not mandatory
but then why does she always seem to show her face?
continue, no more pausing:
... pretending this magic shovel will dig us up an answer
well i've got news for you lonesome miners
no amount of excavation can shed light upon who we are.
so often the the child son
of the left handed hired gun
lift now
change yourself
put your mind in a new state
pause for five seconds
continue:
so on now we cast ourselves into non-rhythmic
nonsense
not following any pretense
or any state legislated sequence
turn away
glance back
realize that meaning is not mandatory
but then why does she always seem to show her face?
continue, no more pausing:
... pretending this magic shovel will dig us up an answer
well i've got news for you lonesome miners
no amount of excavation can shed light upon who we are.
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