Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Dreams that are Overrun by Explosives

Head Oasis is
a new cognitive state
at the beginning of sunrise
unlike any espresso or energy pill,
Head Oasis beckons the deal.
Picturesque lagoon ....................

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Lossless Gloss

How and when, as the wind swept the leaves, across the land of air dried bodies at the stagnant river embankment, can you catch a twenty? Stale twigs are rustling in the distance. Perhaps a mangy cat is rallying a pack of dogs for an intense chase. The nearest town is a few miles away, the factories are still pumping out gaseous pollutants from the smoke stacks and they drain out oozing liquids. This river is beyond help. This towns death toll reaches a newer and higher number on the daily. It is all mainly suicides. The twigs are now shattering and rocks are smashing, bones are crackling...what is causing this great deal of calamity? Large tanks turn the corner from the forest. Guns are shooting off. I feel as though I must run away from here.

What exists to make me disappear
so that I may not hurt anyone
to not even bend an ear?

I stumble upon an abandoned sack, it is quite heavy. But I take it with me as I run along the waters edge. A sewer entrance is opened, I take this as an opportunity to hide away into safety.

I Only Ever See Myself Dying

I only ever see myself dying
and being alone forever
I am the ruiner.

As Lost as a Piece of Sappho's Writing

I do not wish to intrigue you
any longer for the sake of
ruining more then what is
already falling apart.
We unraveled theories of
disproportionate claims
to make us seem more real.
It is just not our time
and I do not want to be in
a pool for the pickings.
I will be on my own,
owning my loneliness.
I would rather accept all
my losses and never play
the game.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Money Moon and Racer Dreams

Remember on Wednesday at the scenic overlook,
the fog rose and the crowd gathered to witness
an array of seagulls chanting the new hymn
at the start of a new planetary system.
We were once a human race,
however, drugs broke our systems.
We met with the clown masked people,
their music we cannot discuss (it's hideous)
and thus here we are, barely living at all.
The collaborators and the contractors,
the higher-ups in economical strides
passed the time away with golf or
miniature horseback riding.
The joke was on the jocks and their
distasteful long socks.
Looking for the languid days of southern
comfort, hire a maid and male stripers.
The gay man hollered to the wonderfully swollen lady,
"take back my food and bring me water!"
A news anchor broke down the static barrier,
we have retrieved a wavelength.
A sparse reminder of a humane existence.

The seagull hymn has now ended
and the grander event is still to proceed,
remain within contemplative caution
that we do not overthink the darkness
as the light arrives...
granting forgiveness and acceptance that
the dark had to happen in order
for this rebirth.
Would we be thankful at all if
the warbler warped and snapped in half?
The distance and sparkling suspicion
the expansion of a deep breath,
widening a gullet and opening skulls,
barricading the ocean and a sea skippers core.
Would we be thankful for
the sandpiper skips a schooner for a
one-handed spooner?
The entitlements are limitless so long
as we abide by the light and keep
the newly crisp and informed shadows
at arms length.
Would we be thankful for fresh
bacon atop a tin roof only to have
a rooster pick up with its beak and give
it off for money at the race tracks?
No, that is poorly constitutionalized and
caramelized lame.

Digress into the digestive bunker,
our own planet has swallowed us
and now giving up the strength to
push out the rear!
We are wasteful but at least we live!
Alas for the new days ahead!

I have been talking this poem aloud
to my companion mystery clown
that died long ago...
and to tell you the truth,
depressing the pressure exerted
amongst the groveling hunger
and dissimulating the masses
out of weapons and porn,
I have to say I am depressed.
Yet, I am undressed for you,
the viewer, you must now know that you are
the creepy voyeur.
And I convey to you my last lash
that I am naughty for you.
A hankering for a romp in the hay...
what say you?
The new light brings about a change
in me, the way that my heart beats
and my body moves.
I'll twirl for you and land on the bed.
Make that our destiny.

What should have happened by now
is that the republic replica
transfer an image to our
individual vision screens.

Thursday, March 12, 2015


A growth departure
languid loose deseases
and defecting madness
pure plum puzzel moisture
forget a thought and bring
a new one to the table.
Deter on the spectrum
of voluptuous necessity,
the color has yet to reveal
the negative or a neutron.
Hazard subscription,
outlook for a goal.
Flowing monkeys
and cool west key monitors.
Searchlight anthems,
quickened sand seeps,
peppers and the rouge
lipstick bobs up and down
the waves crashing onto breasts.
Defeat the nasty guests
kill the doomsday procedures.
Nuzzle him, snuggle her,
mess of bodies heating on
one large landmass till the
landmines explode and extrapolate
the extra peculiar pelicans.

Not Getting the Answers

Have I made the mistake of
I don't want to be her
the connection is off
a quiet room
thoughtful projections
of the glycemic index
scarlet ibis
rationing of the emotions
in conjecture to food
what to have and not to have

Villainous Variety

Your venom drips into an hourglass,
and the raw heaping heathen
licks it's lips with demonstrative
How can you continue to devolve?
The ticking time bombs are decreasing
time and increasing in destruction.
You are doomed to implode.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

It is Written on the Moon

Ending on a lighter note,
from once it began,
shovel that ice cream up
to your mouth and aspire
for a happiness all your own.
You can be yourself.
Scapegoat if you must.
Muscle up the mountain.
Ridgeback whale,
doling out the wealth,
grain for the fields
of the gargantuan buxom.
And breathe.
Open that window and
lick a sticker, click and ladder,
smack a dapper. What does that mean?
Rollercoaster; soft and funeral-like.
I want to take trips to the beach with you.
Ending again, an aged wisdom...
that fleeting remorse
of discolored unions.
A tremendous uplifting
of the seven scarves,
and a slave to the rhythm that
catches my sex.
A softer ending still,
to the ones that took the pill.
Slipped up the rabbit hole and
back down again, is that marriage
sustinance or a nousance?
A weaker end, for the thousand
terra-cotta soldiers. They once
fought and respected love.
Now their souls graze industrial waste.
The last but never the final ending
to a new era of bedfellows.
Lovers in the garden
and bees fly all around...
we remember bliss.

A Tribunal of Dispartides

That opal over there, yes that brilliant opal.
Just open your eyeball please!
I endure your touch of the opal.
Place that sacred stone in your palm.
We become equalized by the effects
of the opal. The sequential spiritual
properties are among the greatest
that astounds all ages.
It is really something special to witness
and to express the gratitude out amongst others.
It will bring a valued friendship success,
it shall gift a couple with fidelity,
it can win all hearts,
it can be freeing and life consuming.
Use it wisely because it does not like
to feel as if it is being used.
It must feel like a long lost lover
reunited to a familial embrace.
I implore that you must incumbent my opal.
May all the blessing be upon you
and your soul. Your chakras are blooming!


Like a blithering bumble goat ghost,
aghast at the appearance of me,
am I at all that bad?
A straw and hay bed is the deluxe
edition to the barnyard honeymoon suite.
Are you excited? We can have that
rumble in the jungle, and thats alright
with me.
I am sorry that you caused a disturbance
in me.
A solo little fish at the surface of the water,
albeit that it does not shock me.
And for whatever the reason,
you cannot speak to my shoe
in such an angry tone!
My shoes are of my own flesh
and blood,
if that makes any sense
then have a moment to
sort out your thoughts before
sneezing next.

Panda Bear

Tryclocylamin? Dry giro glicerin?
Day glo a blu a way
tri ple tw in
w             i             n      d       o       w

Hard of hearing?
The bass sends vibrations,
and you can ingest a liquid,
can you not?
Well then, you can hear.
Hearing does not come from
the ears.
It comes from within.
And that is his message to you.

Freeing Up the Hard Drive

I am imaging all the worst that could happen to me; the torture before my death and then the disposal of my remains.

First of all; my chest has been split open.
That is how vulnerable I feel.
My ribs are broken and disassociated from
my life's work, like they never even lived
inside of me!
I mean my own ribs that protected my lungs!
Do that not know how much I love them?
And then my backbones have been scorched.
Some asshole took a torch and applied it to
every spine, I can forget about ever walking again, too,
because my legs...forget about 'em.
Fuck if i know where my brain went.
Probably tossed into the garbage
and a homeless cat is clawing at it
as if it was a ball of yarn.
I mean really, I should do myself a service
of self sacrifice. Whatever made me
live on this earth anyways? I want to go.

The title does not do this poem
piece of shit justice.

Dropping Some Mysteries

A redundant musical score
has secured a minimally invasive
private practice maintaining the degrees
of power that resonate our distance.
Out of horror, because those hallucinations
are creeping up again, I will just run away.
Trying to keep this impersonal,
and that matters not,
deduce my mainframe.
It is not like I am a cyborg circuit board.
I am not rocket science.

Locking Away The Past

But no I can't, thats dangerous.
I am all about living my past
and drudging up the hard battles
I never won and never will win.
I have confronted some things,
but maybe never in the way that
makes me kill the memory like the
bastard that it is.
I even shudder to think there
is more to that one memory
but ever since that young age
my mind has protected me
just so I can survive.
I must need a thought deprivation tank
to invoke all the brain currents
and make me feel that jolt of pain
I have been holding off.
What if that is the thought that emerges
at the end of my life
and I leave this world
with intense shame?
Scary to think about.

Is the Eye Conceited?

Concentrate your consorts
and idolize the idealized
figure of male and female
and that is the click disc trick trick.

I May be in the Waters Now

Life is unfreezing, the deep freezer burn
is unlatching is chokehold and I am breathing
again this time a lot more easier.
Was I at first haunted?
How could I possibly be in the clear?
Such the pessimistic viewpoints insist;
I have a long journey ahead of me.
Life may look warm through false eyelashes and mascara.
Debrief me, give me a direction with which to
start walking toward.
The water is graying
and what does this mean?
Has a volcano erupted?
I must be the ashen corpse
laid out to rest in the sea.

I Want to Live in the Shower

Not all at once, but if its enough,
then I will take it all in.
That is because obsessions become me.
User of that passion in a light beam.
It is a rush of passion, and you can't ever understand that.

However, the water in the aftermath,
its what I chose to do.
It is my tears and I barely feel
anything anymore.
Numbing the blurred pain.
And thats just how it is...