O.k. I give up magellan
        What did you do last
Nite
Should I give a **** ? O
Alright
Ten
Minutes
Of
******* that ads
Upto yawn.
zzzzzzzz
Yeah I
Mess
Around
Too but cant
Get that glow.
***

We gonna hammer the nail that dont set flush an even playing field of lowered expectations.

Wanna givakida trophy for not trying hard cause his feelings are at stake...gimme a feckin break ?

Gotta bullyshame
Lifelong crying game.
Dr Spock is laughing off his ***.
***** shame.

GPA. By Gumby and Poky
Elastic. Whole perception hoaky.....smoky
around the borders...
Ahh sixa one equals half dozen of the other
Anything.trumps nothing all right ?

Weak minds lead strong decisions you see it on the subscreen crawl a world of deluded with no reality at all.
You see the lie becomes material and firm when masses squirm and hand wring over hard moral choices. See it all unfold and dont believe. I dont need aces up my sleeve. The hard drive just took a leave.
See how it is today.

See and believe
Senses dont speak in tenses. Believe what you knoe. Hear what the truth is not isms and scisms.
Think in factual calculus.
A pig in a poke ?
Sold to the highest bidder.
We the people are reaping the whirlwind
Again and again and again

A single blade of grass pushes out of craggy block of stone next to my sandaled right foot one seed of defiance from a dusty crag....suckled on midnight mist. Blood in the ragged stone from dying warriors holding. Holding ground from the battlements girds the will of the solitary sprig...by my sandaled foot sprung from the ragged stone.
Suckled on the erie somber midnight fog bolstered by dying blood the warriors blood runs down the ragged walls of the battlements high.
High on the walls, I scan north to south from aloft from the fateful walls of the Keep.
Dying.
Is
The
Order of the day....the single sprig will witness all from the craggy wall  and men will fall by the score from grace. From breath and senses. From the cursed battlements to perdition.

Souls submissions to bloodlust and material gain.
Will soak the stolid stone and wash to earth to mingle spirit and blood with mother earth. And the grass will grow  unfettered from ground. As the killing season
Moves on.

I Stand firmly with my hands relaxed cause the kid looking down on me just cant FADE me.
His eyes smirk with disdain as he rubs against the grain but my years in the realm keep my hands firm at the helm just smirk him right back and now he's feeling wack cause I slipped his attack and the punk can't fade me.

See...my body is tough and conditioned. Swift still powerfull and lithe.
Six decades see I aint ***** made ....still cool as the shade and makin the grade...I moved in and stayed...aint shaky and the kids cant fade me.

Payed those dues early and often.....not boasting. Just love confounding young ducklings snotty  lil fucklings.
My mind is quick I pay my dues...use it or lose it...no aint bout to dodder become cannon fodder for rooks with no stripes... talk that **** if I have to.
Walk that **** too.
Blessed and respectfull.
Man I love checkin chickens who get it wrong.My body is my carriage my spirit an amalgam of knowlege and physicality.
They try to cubby hole.This old dude dont fit mold.
Kick your *** and get witty. Aint fresh of no *****.
They shake their heads or feign disdain g
But again and again they misread. Down for the de de.
Aint no play pretty.Energiser bunny. You cant fade me punk.I might spank your *** like your uncle.....Nephew.
Your hands cant hit what your eyes cant see.
You cant chump me off play me no dozens. I aint old cause I'm lucky. Plucky.
Every dog has his day and one day the magic will end ask Houdini .....   ..... but till then my young friends,this old man's gonna play nick nack on your ****. And ya don't stop and ya don't quit. FEEL ME ? Cause ya caint fade me.....Yet.

Yo there it is way down in the corner. Two slices only half eaten double pep.
Two cans of  Schlitz malted lifted two wash em down
            Big stack of yesterday's news piled up in a corner.....Sleeping on the ground forgot my jamies with teddy bears on it.
Bumster livin is da bomb.

These days,pickins have gotten slimmer cause white collar jobs are not my kind of fun.  

Got my GED in dumpster diving
Guys on the hill still lying and coniving.
Got me a tall boy and a forty.
Bout to get lifted

CHUG LIFE BABY

The room is bouncin
Wall to wall base so fat you can walk on it BLIP BLEEEP :-).

Chant and grind on syntho growl. Strobes hittin all the corners...locked on the groove bouncy move.
Mechanical funk....Double dutchin.

Hollan-daze orange crushin the room. Afro pulse Housin you down..Blip Bleep.

Two hours straight epical trance.....Old disco gone techno high. Strobed out on that techno Applejack  meet Afrojack.
New trance city.
Luda an fitty
Ear hustlin this one
NuUrban stepchild drivin the beat...Blip Blip Bleeeep.

Hop til ya drop ta Tiesto
Super techno out your mind
More bounce to the ounce.
Got GaGa goin gaga
Dont stop.
Dont quit.
Blip Bleep.

How do you give thanks for the gifts so generously given.
Rember the hand that gave it all
The man or woman that made the sacrifice large and  small.
No.payment asked to face harrowing task.

Brothers, Aunts sisters fathers.
Generations.
Our obligation is to.remember.
Remember. And. Pay homage .
Whatever ones creed,color or tribe.
This is the smallest of the small to pay homage and dare recall the one who toed the line and.payed.the.price large.or small

This is a line from a movie
I cant remember which but it hit me right between the eyes.

A lot of women marry men expecting them to change and are anguished when they dont.

A lot of men marry women expecting them to not change and are anguished when they do.

  A lot to be said about that.

We play a game kinda like show and tell crossed with peekaboo my beauty and l.

The RULES.
at the end we will both have a happy ending.

Smell,touch,taste. Wait. Wait.

Listen,hear answer.

Smile, laugh,repeat.

slow,fast,slow.

Fast,slow,fast.

Look onto each other's eyes

Feel the love inside.
See. I tell her that I love her and then I tell her why.

I listen to her beating heart.
I know the echo and cadence
Like the tips of her fingers every swirl unique.
She is facinated with my Adam's apple
I get it.
I turn off the lights and draw the blinds....black as pitch. I find her by her.anxious.breathing.
I find her with my heart..my mind...my senses.

I savour her and build my memories  brick.by.brick,stone.
Despair ever so briefly
All is fleeting and.then she makes love to me.
Slow.
Fast.
Slow.
Repeat my sweet. Repeat.

making the left turn unto  Wilks ave. My steering wheel spins in my palm and
There...... on the park bench sits a red shirt and two more.

So I ease off the accelerator and squash the volume Bushwick Bill and Ghetto Boys drop low in the back seat..... Creepin.

Shirt #1 passed the dank to shirt #3 these simple ******* dont see me ......  stll creepin....shiney steel.
Locked and chambered

Shirt # 2 gets a glimpse as he takes a ****..... but now its bang bang ..... more red and chordite smoke.

R.I.P.

I strive quite often to write away from my narrow existence to dismiss the woe is me and will she ever see how much I love her plea.

So much more to know and see. Histories mysteries things that pass beneath my feet unseen yet hold great import.

Things that pass above and around me silently but for me striving to hear and see to ponder and unravel in reverie. Not just all about me and me.

I would bore myself to insanity to just keep looking inward always inward with thickened lenses.

My salvation from self pity and confusion is to bear as little self delusion and fling my mind open to the wonders past and present...the future is vast and limitless.

My god is nameless and will so remain because I am far too feeble to look at it's glory and with feeble audacity give it name.

To write away from is as easy/natural as blinking.
To write away is my salvation.

I am less than nothing in the scheme.
I am as loved as the sun that shines the roaring tide the rivers wide the wayward wind the global spin so massive yet unfelt.

I write away from me for my sanity to do otherwise  is like pulling lint from my navel while the stars twinkle a million years away and beckon.

I write away,above, below, over under and through. I hope we all can do so too

PEACE

Creole love potion.
Heavenly body
Built for motion.
               Passion fruit.
    A wonderfull construction.

Afrolatin...Fufu and Habanero...
Cassava bread
Red beans and rice.
Dont worry...I know god must have a plan
Countless others,same design. Made to make men lose their minds.
Saal Good.

Looking down at my ramshackle feet my ragged vehicle.

They climb the stairs one by one wrapped in struck iron..Ten links and a biting clasp caresses my ankles as
I rise step by step to stand judgement.

Alone I stand in judgement.

Looking out at the sea of faces looking up and taking stock...cold calculations and nothing more.

Rolling ships in  cold abandon defiance of a watery descent..
       In the bowel the true belly of the beast....Traversed. Taken to stand in judgement far away to empty shores. Hope ? Abandoned.

          I stand alone in judgement..sorrows abound and heavy is the head that wears the crown..The king of sorrows with no tomorrows must stand alone in judgement.

Pretend yer talkin to your 4 year old.
Use nuttin biggah dan 5 letta words.
Use all the hand gestures you need.
Talk real slow so I can watch yer mouth move.
Gimme a few minutes ta digest
All them big sentences
I'm only tree an a half years old.
Daddy your walking too fast.
OK. ?

My favorite things. Not necessarily in order.

1. Pushing the envelope.

2.Standing on sunshine.


3.Musical eargasms.

4.Dancing to a driving beat.

5.The feel of a woman and all related.

6.A carpet ride on words.

7.Discovery.

8.Brevity

9.Truth

10.Stepping over *******.

Outside she was  a woman, inside a cultured hide.
No.
AFTER ALL I DID.NOT.CHOOSE THIS and mother nature,she lied
She lied

On banks of the Mississippi stood a young man mired...He tied his hopes and dreams to the twinkling distant lights. Lights that danced,that lay a shimmering pathway for him to walk.
Stub of a pencil and creased oily brown paper demanded with loud curses the lines hooks and verses. His guitar groaned and cried.....lamented and waited. She felt discarded while waiting she cried high on the neck."words are fickle but I love you so. So come give me your love,caresses me and I will show the way across the water the shimmering water...destiny fame...destiny demise.

He sat on the banks where big muddy ran deepest,spirits rising from deeper.he sat. He sat at the crossroads praying for sleep.
Where the words did keep counsel with the deepest of the deep...brassy green scale supended.

Judgement for the union of his instrument and his  mind to untangle lyric and chord. Fame still glimered as he.slept.....and wept in deep lament his guitar, she shivered in his warm caresses in the balmy southern fog. They slept.
His fingers did caress her in dreamsleap as the union came. .......He awakened with a start but melody remaimed as he rubbed sleep from his eyes....

Now..now the two did coincide as across her tender body his hands did glide to gently brush across her neck way up high.
The lyrics melted like butter as they grudgingly left his lips .they did depart,amessage rooted in his heart.

The notes rang sweet and.clear from her loving.frame...again an yet again.

The young man walked across the shimmering glass over and.past the Mississippi and into lore and fame.

By show of hands.
Sleep talker. Press play
Psychic leaking.
Darkest.deepest
         Compulsive blinking.
Helter Skelter kaleidoscope thinking.

Feel like cutting. Gotta feel something. Gotta Feel all or gonna feel nothing.
Wed better, marry up.
better living through social drinking.
Social.linking a society of Lemmings. Man are we screwd. One for all as we mold the collective.
Bed wetter. A symptom not the root. No.crime....a condition...deal the.cards
Slap your.ID. not your fault that they.did what they did.
Get better. Not wetter.

Flowers and candy.
                      Takin steps to the light.
Version delightful. Make happy.
                                     Pretty please. Write  pretty tales fairy. Nice baby nice.
             Smooth suplications calm the pulses.

Write pretty in mauves and magentas.orange and blues.
Dont nobody bring me no bad news.

It seems here the abysmal is well recieved as is the dark.
I sketch the silent screaming mask and the sound is a bellwether.
I plumb the depths after sleepless pause or turgid slumber...... wicked spectre in the quiet hours.
They walk in uninvited,arms extended.
"A gift for you my friend"
Ah the words the spill forth again from reservoirs of pain...my pallet rich variety hues abound...the hounds have been untethered and nose to ground they salivate...at my heels again.

My demons free now to guide the way. One fleshless finger points the way beneath a heavy sleeve. "Stay or leave " but yonder lies your Destiny.

Words await buried in shallow grave just beyond that gate.  "Express it now in jangled silence or wait" FOOL.
A roaring tide loosed...my expression once again doth take wing to soar and glide
In search of eagle's perch...eyes keen to observation.
Indignant...
Senses drawn as dried sinew attached to archer's bow...to.deliver words looosed. Loosed. A loaded quiver now. Soon to be empty.again.
To wait in anguish for next expulsion.
Is this the price ?
YES.

I saw the smoke curls rise from afar smelled the ash..

The middle card is the one I chose the flurry of movement. The fix is in.

Monte plays the shell game again. Now you see it. Prestochango.....my free words shackled and put on the block..... But that smoky
Message was fortolled..

Behold....beware of Greeks bearing gifts....

You my dear.who sits in the chair and disappears for the time alloted.
What holds us appart but fear.
Of seeming foolish... is.that our stock and yolk ?.
What emminates is pure desire. I desire to stand with my soul extended naked In your fire and plumb the depths of your desire.
Feel you close ...disect your inner feares
Listen to you breaths crescendo...tell me all your deepest darkest in the still of an autum night.

MY MIND TO YOUR MIND.
YOUR ID REVEALED... pealed away as husk.
Your aroma and musky essence sweet and desirous. Eyes closed, mind open. Cant you see us now.
Send In the clowns.
Well maybe next year.

I was like....stuck. She took every thought from my head.
I was like....dam.

She was like....more than beautifull, like a sweet dream lingering after.I awoke.
I was like...done.

She was like no other woman I had ever been close to.
She was like...Tesla lights dancing across the room.
I was like.wow.

She was like reaching through.my thoughts and her words were like strange.music...like I never heard before.

I was like deer frozen in the glare could hear my heart pound.
I was like a boy all over again...like that.

She was like magic

She was like music

She was like ecstasy

She was like...... gone

life is easy.
It's the livin that's hard.

Breathing is easy.
The inhaling is hard.

Thinkin is easy.it's
The knowing that gets hard.

Walkin is easy.
It's the stepping that gets hard.

Drinkin is easy.it's
The quitting  that gets hard.

Leavin is easy.
Its the lovin that breaks hard.

We who see to plumb and ponder always turning pebble and stone,cutting to the quick pulling marrow from bone.Why ?
Arrested in time like children asking. The joy of disection. Us who seek.
We pose the querry never content. The puzzled inquisitor.
Poet ?
A frazzled strand on the helix. Pain emmersed ? Love unrequited.

We stand afar and scan the horizons.mark the twain at depths uncharted. WE who are blessed and cursed look deeper and longer at the Gorgon on certain pain.

Poet.seeker
Poet.mind painter.
Poet.mind sailor.
Poet.soul soother
Poet.revelator.
Poet.truth warrior.
Poet. My kin.
Poet.my sister
Poet. My brother.

She was a master of selective amnesia.
Would savor the sour sweet ambrosia of self delusion
Then wash it down with a mixture of bitter herbs and devices

The Straw man burned brightly in the dark of night and brought all those self drawn illusion to light. turning that way then this the roaring fire was self fulfilling.
That river in Egypt was flooding her banks now.
The Straw man's head sat slightly askew


With eyes shut tight against realities glare.
She lit the straw man as nightly bonfire and whistled her fantasies in with marshmallow treats then neatly sit cross legged.
Sang *** Ba-ya.  
The straw man crackled and cackled inside.

Fingers fit tightly in her ears to cast away and stifle her fears
a tried and true method that served her for years.
Rose colored goggles pressed tightly on
Wrongly or rightly.
The Straw man guffawed and snickered as he burned.

No fault behavior is a sweet smelling balm...
a smooth transistor for a much twisted twister..
Never looking back at the carnage wrought and  ensuing..
just whistled while she worked a progressive undoing...
Mr Straw-man burned brightly and shook his head slowly from left to right.
Knowing full well he was in for a long night.

Ultimately... we are released. The clock ticks forward till the body doth cease.

The womb is but a stop along the way.
Then this life.

Strife and toil above it all we strive and cry freedom to not be encumbered but days are numberd..we climb.
We soar in wild imaginings where we sprout wings and reach for things aloft.
The human craves freedom above all and finally will risk the.fall
And plummet.
Launch the spirit then grasp to summit.
Safety in numbers a comfort zone. Never my heart's desire. Sit close to surety and fire is light. But for me. Ultimately.
Freestylin me.
The stars await
Then.heaven's
GATE.

No harm no foul baby.
I'm guilty then
Cuff me and
Take me away.
You  are an old soul
The one with witchy ways.
I would sit and absorb your essence for simplicities sake
To the core of you
A wellspring of flatted 5ths.
Kilter be dammed.
The watcher in me would come alive and thrive to hold you up to the light...turn you this way and that. Sit and watch the exquisite dance cadence from your lips as you speak the alphabet or whisper a silent prayer.Caputred by you.
Enraptured by your eyes hypnotic charms but you know these things to be true.
This thing is as old as the hills the moth to flame the hunter and the game

Words ..are free...they.have no friends
Nor harbor enemies.
Thoughts bear no physicality nor tethered weight...have no owner
They fly free .they ask no leave
Nor license.

Expression is amorphous requires no tariff no adjudicator.
Freedom sprouted  from the will to be..
No Petri dish  consortium.
We.walk.we fall.
We creep.we. crawl
Words are freedom
Thoughts are.free.
FREE
FREE.

Truth be told...as mysteries unfold
Let seven be one all falshoods undone.
                 Standing on the jagged cliffs
      Looking  inward.
Touched by the hand .....words revealed
Revealed........now and...always.
The revelator.
Enumerator
Enunciator
Eluminator
Written.

Who's that writter ?
John the revelator.

It was dark past seeing....his pupils  like cavernous maw,could find not one glimmer..one chard of light in Asgard's canope.

Like a strand of golden hair, lonley comet broke the night and streaked the darkness, light years away long dead before a vision in his mind as he sat high in heavens perch a hammer
Rested on his knees.

Thunder rumbled
Years below
Quick light flashed
Above.
To fall to Earth once
More.