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tloco Jun 2015
Coming to now, the story of life not as a practical lesson in wisdom as such in a parable or teaching only casual experience for individual. Experiencing this wisdom will change your knowledge gained through the events of becoming with the kingdom of heaven. Ways on the tree of life or paths which are ordained or divined in the Lords or spheres build your learned life knowledge. Adapting as a disciple on the natural skill of the soul shows a person whom, the individual is in a pure state of self and exponential in the ***** of the tree of life.
As a child of light I lived happily joined in the union of spirit, my young soul always with the Almighty Father and Creator in the Tenth heaven. From a dream of the past awaking as a watcher of an extremely large craft inside the entire vessel I could see animals each of them were named and had most important characteristics from the Father. From high aloft in Heaven to the boat a watch was taking place omnipotent over the last life within. Many hosts and angels spoke once I was inside the boat but wasn’t as a soul like a spirit invisible I saw and heard. Angels divine in accord to works of commands were at work in heaven whole groups of choirs known as orders were not ever interrupted by my watch. Trumpet sounded heard in the spirits from heaven to the sea and rush gate of the heaven’s upon the earth. The name of angel that sounded and captured fallen in the thirteenth month; Tebae-et, into the stellar order of gates or fallen paradise.
A child of light borne in spirit always with the hosts or different characters in life such as Chanokh (Enokh-Father of Melekhi-Tsedek order), but it was either in dream or warden amongst crowds of souls touring in celestial spheres with paths of light on the tree of life. Walking outside my house the morning after my dream, I felt as if I could float in the air body and soul light as a feather. Surrounding me was Topaz, chrysophrase, jasper, chalcedony, and amber gemstones still transparency like crystalloluminescence. Above me sapphire with alabaster and my soul looked down upon me with white eyes shining light out of them in a robe covered in my names brilliantly shone in gold light in the temple of my soul. My body was in euphoria and I stared into the future and realms of heaven, seeing into the seven seals as celestial wardens. The divine experience was wholesome pure enrichment to my soul each word I had in communion with the throne of supreme majesty firm with glory, order, and unconditional loving care. Differences in the Father; whom was a body of so many names and creations perfect in commands, recordings, gates, cycles of hosts myriads, elementals, migrations of stars, and firmament upon firmament.
The way of the most holy spirits as complete body of the Father the original tree of life, which is known completely in the true names it was created as. The spirits, angels, guardians or incessantly serving hosts help the Father governing of the kingdom of heaven in the four parts of man. The structure I remember is perfection with tongues that fill the heart with everlasting laughter, hope that cheerfully overcomes in a soul victory. The heavenly abode the height of the throne gives the soul countenance of wisdom to the word unto man. Upon a single walk with the Father had taken my body and spirited my being in soul countenance of wisdom so far through the future I had saw unto trumpets of revelation.
Melekhi-Tsedek order the true religion to be proclaimed unto man the creatures such as animals, fallen accursed, the plant life in, promise, orphans, and widows were watched over on the decree or divine ordination from heaven. Ascending up to the throne; I went through the knowledge of the complete day in heaven or paradise recorded then toured the solar spheres, through the knowledge of the spirits or holy hosts that did in accordance to the orders. The process was divined in the Father’s willpower over my essence I had knowledge to what was being experienced in a connection unto every living creation. Completely, opening the mind unto Ratsiel (secret of God), through the third-eye founding of my soul into mysteries of kingdom of heaven. Voices of many named angels were annunciating with pleasant tones and choirs voices of angels by the thousands. Recording archangels kept the things that were occurring in the kingdom of man, while also serving the obligated roles of their natural being as direct personification of God. Organized, synchronized, and in spirit of prophecy patterning so perfected without error moving about in every way structurally sound through commanded orders. Systems of planets were kept sealed in the seven hallways or wards that divide heaven’s celestial nether space from the foundation of firmaments of word and universe unto the highest Lords signs of zodiac places. Above Almighty Father can sit omnipotent as ascending angels, spirits, or orders can go the entire flight focused on the Father’s throne. The orders of body were eminence Seraphim, Cherubim, Wheels (Thrones), Dominions (Authorities), Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangel, and Angels. Although the kingdom in spirit was always changing and becoming according to the cycle of the sun’s orbital sphere into the gates of each day on a 28 year cycle and 7,000 year unto 7 days in heaven the Lord a light-giver and also Lord of completion, Sabbath day.
A fresh gust of wind and a light pure feel was a regular experience while awakening my mind I learned of the Elders of heaven whom had crazy stories like when Samson had the might to slay the lions or tore down the temple of Dagon. I knew the hosts and things that had become in the kingdom of heaven to allow the might shone as a show for the heaven, but also act of the devils in his life. This knowledge was in a book the scripted the entirety of all the acts that take place as a divine act, once a celestial being was in visitation in spirit. The seraph Ratsiel (secret of God) investigated the acts of the temptation of Adam by Chavah and the acts of the archangels in response to the threat. The accord to the acts of everything that exists in the accord to knowledge of the solar is obtainable through this book, the book of knowledge.
Later in another dream I met the minister of death in spirit which as within a myriad where thousands of spirits were at works performing the acts in which is their existence and adapted behavior as a role in realms. Being in one place while still seeing into a complete different world or plane of existence doing as is need or divined in nature. Black darkened pillars came down on me as this space ship shaped like a pyramid with the patterns of natural earth red and black like lava years after a volcano. Around me each pillar stood as a being in realm invisible to my eye except for one being on a throne centered in the myriad the throne of death. Fiery torment in flames along with brimstone flowed in two pooled lakes parallel from one another with a long path going from gate to the another gate leading to Sheol or Hades. A base foundation of the throne is a horizontal shadowed hallway with many smaller pillars which give no support to the throne, while the path is vertically centered. Two stairways go up to the platform of the throne one on each side of the platform decorated with images of Baaliyal in form of a torrent. Death sat upon the throne with darkness like the appearance of black smoke blowing from his mouth a complete skeleton. Skeletal body covered in black cloak with a screeching voice like a woman’s long fingernail’s scratching a chalkboard. Terrified I walk my being over the site of my soul-mate who is on my like side and here with me she is like a dream and become in multiple places at the same time. Beautiful she was consistently becoming in hosts of cherubim changing into many different forms of the adapting natural instincts of animal’s behavior for survival, she is tan Carmel skin color and flesh uncorrupted by any mans thoughts of lusting ruin. Passionate vivid dreams of a                maiden lying in an alien jungle full of plants most like a rainforest but yet close to the planet’s beaches, wearing a purple robe. Dark and warm humid with a damp feel to the observer of the smooth cover of the claylike terrain of the solar sphere. Again I dreamed of her while she was separated from me by the prince of Tyre or the cherub covering the mercy, she ran amongst different hallways while in the tower of Babel and giant nephlim watched with other gods in gold cursed trying to look down on things in spirit. I walked up the stairs and could see myself from outside of myself, seeing my form as a human being in appearance most like Michael or Melekhidael with breastplate of gold without a helmet. Death screeched out at me and I saw an ancient giant of hell also the spirit of Tanhumeth trying to send me into the past. Awakened into a new form I walked through the gate vertical in the chamber beneath death’s ministry. Sopheriael Yahweh took me into the spirit of a seraph Hadaneriael then, into the 10 archangels of punishment over the 10 nations of Babylon the great which took me into the depth to the ninth circle of punishment for a reign in gates of the Phul seal or in Phalek. My soul was the loosened stars of Kesil through Samuil the poisoned messenger a discernment spirit involved in the surfs of the accord of the kingdom of dark princes in paradise, the divine comedy Queen of Angels enchanted songs counted into paradise. Darkness in the kingdom of heaven, with the ability to paralyze minds with seraphim hosts of terror, I walked through the brazen gates of Hades seeing everything on fire but also thousands of thousands of different forms of creations each rarity seen with delightful insight to provoke interests into any living being. The life paths of a multitude of creations would come through Hades and become baptized through spirit’s fire of pure refinement spoken as worth in the golden city, precious daughter of the loom, here in accord to John the Baptist’s   prophecy.
At a young age of 6 years old I began to refuse the world or play directly into the kingdom of heaven which was a lonely elect of self in my family also in the church my family attended. Wicked spirits attacked the gates of my inner ear where and had began to tell me of things that would happen in future then, keep me from being with the Father completely in heaven. My memory started to fade in fear that I would only to struggle if I kept learning. Gradual disillusion way from the throne began while I was only a few years old, the devils were wise in deceit most from the tree of knowledge and future mistakes from which I saw rolling with wheels of heaven. Moments of times in the future I would soul determine things into happening from the spirit of prophecy it was something I kept special between the Father and mines relationship. Constantly I would hated life and wanted to die, feed into temptation, stole, and spoke accursedly cutting my relationship from the Father.
Was not until I was seventeen years of age when I felt an overwhelming feeling like I had just explained something about the firmament of heaven which usually gives me this same feeling like a gust of wind in my person with a prestigious self worth from outside of self comforting to my soul. Looking up into the pitch black night sky, I saw a strange and odd formed constellation of stars above me I raised my arm and pointed at three stars. As if on command or through a governing of the stars each was loosed and fell immediately after pointing to them. Excited as the skin of my body was stinging as hairs stood to the point of super natural acknowledgment of the world’s great mysteries finding depth in the human soul I watched the sky then turned to the east. About to use the marijuana I torched a bowl of green bud then thought in the medium mostly of the kingdom and Father in heaven. In the zephyr region of the sky I saw a light floating, soaring, flashing, and moving faster than anything I had ever seen in life but on movies scenes. Astonished again I watch the spirit jumping around in the sky with multiple purposes and clear intent to do for the Father most high. My only other witness to this was my black minx cat shadoe, whom I looked at and said “I going to have a vision tomorrow” then finished two more hits of the cannabis before leaving to my room in the basement of a two-story house.
Awakening to the day was full of feeling of mystery I didn’t tell any of my experience from the night before. On October eighteenth in the day I smoked some marijuana went to Crook County High School and a blood drive was setup, I planned to give a pint for my first time ever so I went to auditorium where the blood was taken from my arm. Feeling faint and in hope for a high opposed to school I left and was excused from classes. Arriving at the house I stopped my Suzuki Sidekick in front then went in and downstairs to the place after the last step knowing something amazing was about to happening I uttered the name Metatron. Linear thought was tremendous while spirit balanced on a pillar and the first seal Arathron had me in celestial hallway warding the ancient spirits from the night before. Sitting down in a lazyboy recliner chair I first start the satellite television turn it on with remote, the spirits are crazy making grandeur boosts of how I can control everything like that remote but from mind. Flipping through stations I begin to change the channel in accord to how I sense and feel the spirits. Crazy things start occurring watching until I was seeing a celestial vision. Hearing my mind from above it was intriguing and making my pride compulsive like no one living I was experiencing these sights. As a mode of characters in a set ordained function were becoming visible on the tree of life but each were in a different realm not visible to the other. Beautiful alien life most exquisite to the eyes in the planes of other worldly adobes just doing into a set way of commands rare without repetition. Nine characters panther, eagle, falcon, wolf, coyote, Siberian tiger, and one man with blonde hair came into view in a dense rainforest like jungle each was adapting to the environment but they were only one soul becoming the entire time. The forest was no longer and the upper places had new hosting since I had entered and changed things with my thoughts, I became the soul of the characters. Seeing upwardly was a flight to the top of the extreme heights of the Father’s presence through the third seal of Phalek. At the arrival of my being I saw the most adorned and absolutely marvelous splendor of white shine like that of the sun’s rays hitting snow filled fields. The Father’s presence so handsome and gorgeous I have never seen another beauty like it only his eyes were so bright shining when he created my being as a star to his left-hand above a white marble pedestal of wisdom. Father had most elegant white robe shining in purity and sat upon a throne center below seven pillars known as the tabernacle of creation or tabernacle of seven days. In the presence I was pulled back down I felt spirits by the millions entering me, fusing to the dawn star in me finding a place inside me. Possessively filled with spirits till an evil pride overtook me and I felt ever sinful or dark taint of the soul. Lightening fell on the seventh pillar in the tabernacle blue bolts streaked downward as I fell from the presence back to the sphere of Adam’s where I heard two voices speaking. Red clay-like surface with rough igneous and metaphoric rock on the solar planet were a tree had burned to charred pieces. Sin from the Tree of knowledge was present as a spirit she was a young apprentice of the ancient one or Athiquelis. Introducing herself with flaming hair of red orange flames, her eyes shone as big red gemstones of ruby and a body covered with a black dress that faded into the natural darkness of her nature. Waving and floating in the air seducing temptation in her words that spoke into my mind and not from the channel. Soothsaying feminist voice would move me to her place and origin beside a large eleven foot pillar of smooth dark bla
When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
But l want a big funeral
St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Mark's Church, the largest synagogue in
        Manhattan
First, there's family, brother, nephews, spry aged Edith stepmother
        96, Aunt Honey from old Newark,
Doctor Joel, cousin Mindy, brother Gene one eyed one ear'd, sister-
        in-law blonde Connie, five nephews, stepbrothers & sisters
        their grandchildren,
companion Peter Orlovsky, caretakers Rosenthal & Hale, Bill Morgan--
Next, teacher Trungpa Vajracharya's ghost mind, Gelek Rinpoche,
        there Sakyong Mipham, Dalai Lama alert, chance visiting
        America, Satchitananda Swami
Shivananda, Dehorahava Baba, Karmapa XVI, Dudjom Rinpoche,
        Katagiri & Suzuki Roshi's phantoms
Baker, Whalen, Daido Loorie, Qwong, Frail White-haired Kapleau
        Roshis, Lama Tarchen --
Then, most important, lovers over half-century
Dozens, a hundred, more, older fellows bald & rich
young boys met naked recently in bed, crowds surprised to see each
        other, innumerable, intimate, exchanging memories
"He taught me to meditate, now I'm an old veteran of the thousand
        day retreat --"
"I played music on subway platforms, I'm straight but loved him he
        loved me"
"I felt more love from him at 19 than ever from anyone"
"We'd lie under covers gossip, read my poetry, hug & kiss belly to belly
        arms round each other"
"I'd always get into his bed with underwear on & by morning my
        skivvies would be on the floor"
"Japanese, always wanted take it up my *** with a master"
"We'd talk all night about Kerouac & Cassady sit Buddhalike then
        sleep in his captain's bed."
"He seemed to need so much affection, a shame not to make him happy"
"I was lonely never in bed **** with anyone before, he was so gentle my
        stomach
shuddered when he traced his finger along my abdomen ****** to hips-- "
"All I did was lay back eyes closed, he'd bring me to come with mouth
        & fingers along my waist"
"He gave great head"
So there be gossip from loves of 1948, ghost of Neal Cassady commin-
        gling with flesh and youthful blood of 1997
and surprise -- "You too? But I thought you were straight!"
"I am but Ginsberg an exception, for some reason he pleased me."
"I forgot whether I was straight gay queer or funny, was myself, tender
        and affectionate to be kissed on the top of my head,
my forehead throat heart & solar plexus, mid-belly. on my *****,
        tickled with his tongue my behind"
"I loved the way he'd recite 'But at my back allways hear/ time's winged
        chariot hurrying near,' heads together, eye to eye, on a
        pillow --"
Among lovers one handsome youth straggling the rear
"I studied his poetry class, 17 year-old kid, ran some errands to his
        walk-up flat,
seduced me didn't want to, made me come, went home, never saw him
        again never wanted to... "
"He couldn't get it up but loved me," "A clean old man." "He made
        sure I came first"
This the crowd most surprised proud at ceremonial place of honor--
Then poets & musicians -- college boys' grunge bands -- age-old rock
        star Beatles, faithful guitar accompanists, gay classical con-
        ductors, unknown high Jazz music composers, funky trum-
        peters, bowed bass & french horn black geniuses, folksinger
        fiddlers with dobro tamborine harmonica mandolin auto-
        harp pennywhistles & kazoos
Next, artist Italian romantic realists schooled in mystic 60's India,
        Late fauve Tuscan painter-poets, Classic draftsman *****-
        chusets surreal jackanapes with continental wives, poverty
        sketchbook gesso oil watercolor masters from American
        provinces
Then highschool teachers, lonely Irish librarians, delicate biblio-
        philes, *** liberation troops nay armies, ladies of either ***
"I met him dozens of times he never remembered my name I loved
        him anyway, true artist"
"Nervous breakdown after menopause, his poetry humor saved me
        from suicide hospitals"
"Charmant, genius with modest manners, washed sink, dishes my
        studio guest a week in Budapest"
Thousands of readers, "Howl changed my life in Libertyville Illinois"
"I saw him read Montclair State Teachers College decided be a poet-- "
"He turned me on, I started with garage rock sang my songs in Kansas
        City"
"Kaddish made me weep for myself & father alive in Nevada City"
"Father Death comforted me when my sister died Boston l982"
"I read what he said in a newsmagazine, blew my mind, realized
        others like me out there"
Deaf & Dumb bards with hand signing quick brilliant gestures
Then Journalists, editors's secretaries, agents, portraitists & photo-
        graphy aficionados, rock critics, cultured laborors, cultural
        historians come to witness the historic funeral
Super-fans, poetasters, aging Beatnicks & Deadheads, autograph-
        hunters, distinguished paparazzi, intelligent gawkers
Everyone knew they were part of 'History" except the deceased
who never knew exactly what was happening even when I was alive

                                                February 22, 1997
Mike Adam May 2016
anyhow
that was the day I gave up everything

one thousand hotel mirrors
well travelled.

train Milan, cheek-kissed Maria.

cognac. A man. Unconsumed.

Guylove dance, marketplace Castries.
Lord Jackson, Victor
Calypso kinging.

Anyhow
that was the day I gave up dancing

Jack lighthouse, broken glass,
spilled Guinness never forgiven.
Named my son for him.

Anyhow
that was the day I gave up talking

crew cut Poughkeepsie, émigré fashion
boarding cockle boat, Dunkirking
Queen Mary.
Nero sunsetting on piddling empire
wallmap fading red to wilted pink

scouring the bottom of titanic bucket,
glorious lido summer, dear Liza,
got a hole in it(torn piece of rubber
mnemonic for a mother)

anyhow
that was the day I gave up ***

now come the restoration of the king.

London shall rise again,
borne on tide of flying,
infinite darkness,
osmosis of light.

whisper saint Paulus,
de-clocked, unthroning,
myriad swimmers swarm
canal cut channel,
(furry animals cluster, cuddle
in unlikely couplings).

quavering timbers
blowing and swaying,
queen lay dying, long live the king.

anyhow
that was the day I gave up my mind
Eric the Red Apr 2021
Yesterday stuck in traffic
45 minutes to go 5 miles
Coffin on wheels

When a 1987 Suzuki Samurai
Pulled up alongside
And I recognized myself
Surf shirt
Cargo shorts
Fresh from 1994

Probably headed to some ****
Job for weekend beer money
Young
Vibrant
Purpose
Future unknown

Then he turned and looked at me
Eyes without a hint of fear and said
‘I’m going on..I’ll see ya’
And I couldn’t even muster a
‘Take me with you...’
a Aug 2015
They say it's cliché,  writing
a poem about being alone on your birthday.
Cause how could you be alone, with the not-so-faux paradise of the gently swaying lush greenery that sprouts tweety-bird yellow over your head,
complete, with the insistent ca-caw of the Red-throated beak that doesn't let you sleep on the anniversary of your birth.
How could you be alone with the contrast beneath, the contest of of somnabulism between the rickshaw and the great grey suzuki, that perfectly encompasses the colour of Europe.
The barking stray dogs in the Pune streets, the rustle of the parakeet palms in the monsoon breeze.
You're stuck in a shell of unending continuity, howling canines and Hindi beats, honking cars and the buzz of your mind.
alone. and old.
This birthday, I wish for India to have a repaint.
Ottar Oct 2013
I had a 750 Suzuki Katana, gray machine
learned like a young man 350, then 650 then that 750cc of course
in the mid eighties, paid cash but then my mom expected the worst,
I was in the army, I said Army, military single man
I could handle the motorbike well enough,
I knew my limits,
too slow one day
on a sharp parking lot turn
and I earned a
cracked signal light casing,
too early in the
season an April Easter trek
home, turned
around in Manning Park,
near that summit,
snow and ice made it dicey
and the police wanted me to prove I had
chains and snow tires for this late season
fall of snow is
all, so I turned and went back to the base,
too much competitive spirit one day
and I thread the needle between a moving
car and a parked car, well how to say this,
with the driver's door opened wide,
in that instant I passed by at thirty miles an hour
my Life Cycle almost stopped,
my thoughts were driven to,
maybe I should go back to
bicycles, instead...
but I won the race
back to the base
and both the admiration
and admonition of my peers
whom I beat.


©DWE102013
Haylin Nov 2018
To all the goodbyes
I say goodnight
To everyone that dies
I hope it's bright

To everyone;
With a razor
Hand of pills
Tied rope
Dangling keys
Extreme hight below
Finger over a light trigger
Electricity at hand
Open propane tank
Empty plate, with full glass

Stop, think about who you're leaving behind
I know my words aren't going to stop you, but just read
Did you bother to write and leave a note?
Is it worth it then?
Saying you're sorry, knowing you'll leave someone behind?
Stop. Think about why you're doing it
Do you have nobody?
Think about your opportunities that'll fly past
The chance of ever meeting someone?
Did you lose someone?
Think about if you'll actually see them again?
Being bullied?
Fight back, with whatever you have
Life shoved you down?
No, I'm not asking you to get up!
I'm telling you to get your *** into a nap
Think about all the possibilities that might not be
Think of all the opportunities and people in the future
Think of your legacy
Think of anything except the pain
Now balance the pain and everything else
Want to jump? Skyfall
Want to shoot? Paintball and games
Want to hang? Bungee
Want to overdose? Take 10% of it and party
Suffocate in propane gas, or blow up? Cook a nice meal, invite a friend or family. Surround yourself. No friends and family? Find a friend, build a family. Make space cakes
Want to speed wrong side of the road? Speed on the right side of the road and get carried with the wind, do it over again
Want to cut yourself? Cut off the pain and wrong influences
Electricute yourself? Rather save electricity and watch a good movie with friends or family. Have none? Watch a movie alone, play a game online. Make friends, build a family
Want to starve yourself so you can get drunker and finally forget it all, when your liver gives in? Eat a lot more, blow off some steam at the gym and build a body that girls/guys would like, attract them and make new friends. Drink with friends.

I've done and tried all these things and it never worked out
Life had a pleasent surprise and yet I'm depressed and yet I'm suicidal, but I push through. I know you can too!
Push through to that wedding day, or in my case the day I see my Suzuki GSX-R 750 K8 and take my first ride. Create new dreams if the old ones died. Work hard for them. Achieve something
"At least leave a ******* legacy behind" is what my bestfriend, Steph used to say
"You can get out of this alive, but maybe a little ****** up, but anything damaged can be repaired" My bestfriend Josh used to say
"Life can carry you away without what you thought you needed" my bestfriend Divene used to say

Even more quotes from people I've lost in my life, so I ask you just think about it all
Still going through with it? Remember it's a one way ticket
Need some extra help?
269-281-8555
Message me and we'll work through this
I'm suicidal myself. Been for a long time. Just speak to me. Speak to someone. Let's fix this ****
Max Neumann Mar 2020
in a void of air and space
music floats and keeps us safe
you need to listen

fo real and fo shizzle: listen
it's 3:45 everybody bossed up
dough fetish fantasies

the suzuki in a jakuzzi
keeps my mind busy
(keeps my mind busy)

how can you enter the next stage?
it's fo real like tizzops cage
the barrel of a golden gauge

look into my face: a rat race
never ending being fast paced
today is my last day but i will

remain
Today is a good day.
tree Jun 2019

maybe i fell too hard just this once. but would it have killed you to catch me?
Butch Decatoria Mar 2016
Is it insomnia
when I don't care for sleep?

The sort of sleep that is belligerent
interruptions at each half past
in the middle of every hour,
intervals of interlopers
awoken by invisible passersby
floating enemies striking me
with the hatred of their kinesis
cerebral lightning at my heart
or attempts at my suffocation
as I wake to a coughing start,
intruders invading my dream mind
as well as its peace

anything that would hurt me
they revel in my breaking,
I can hear the clicking of laughter
of teeth...

Deserts and all our cities
should have crickets,
yet Vegas feels like its been dying
the quiet now replete
no chirp of the lucky bugs
nor busying of bees with their buzz
rather its the fizzle of neon panic
the beatitude of cheats
the machinations of gamblers' defeat

or sometimes mostly
this deep in the twilight
a swarm of Ninjas, Suzuki, Kawasaki roars
toward their kabuki foot rubs
a twenty gets you a dub
rub you long time
for an hour behind red doors

Try to spank myself to sleep
if not to exhaustion,
but I can still hear the distant piercing
screaming
of latter days & soilent green
the secret war as alien is to any sound
sleep.

They look like people
we look like meat,
the living dead
their sake's flesh
all torn away and beat
up like faithful lovers that creep
seduced by the sluice
of the street / symphonies,
of rocket ship Discovery

Can't turn the volume down
in the black of night
when my mind's eye
is behind a veil
in the dark of 2:22
(in recovery)
and still the aliens
wretchedly wail...

whilst i'm
slumming in attempts at slumbering,
the greys are watching
humans lumbering
               and *******
two twenty two
in the dim
twilight
morning...
Sid Lollan Jun 2017
Drive ‘round town; Nostalgia
                                        color me voodoo.
The oranged-pink hue of the sunshine
                                        feeds me mellow.
Head on the road ’n’ off the rodeo,
        Blakey on the radio — “Please give me
                               a pretty overdose with othello dayglow”
Mansions mate with motorhomes. Methane skies gas burnt-out residents.
Tiredthoughts&drymouth; Think it’s a drought—
                                                             Could be a pestilence.
       “****, it’s too hot out
                                  for the middle-of-September!..Ach-urr!”
I cough&choked on a memory—Remember-
                                                ­            ing youth’s relentless attention
                                                       ­ to nothing in particular but
                                                             ­   its boundless pursuit of every-
                                                        th­ing in-between.

I used to look to the Blue and think I’d float away
                                  but
             that’s when I believed in miracles.
Nowadays, reality has no sympathy just a noose — tighter leash,
                       anchored soles to a meanconcretecaprice
                                                with
                                 no abstract release — (still)
I drive ‘round Podunk & keep away from po-lice.

I stop in the corner-market
    to cop some energy&fillup on gasoline;
    at the pumps
tilt my bushy-brunette crown back to admire
            the delicious slices of tangerine evening-sky
                  topped by thick whippingcream clouds...
...Remiss though;
     futile, in wild aims to pause Time
                   and repossess my myself: immobilized
          I was separated from body centuries ago
                                   & today (i) continue
                                    a microstep behind (my) experience...
...Wait inside my 99 Suzuki Esteem
        cigarette cherried, Brubeck on NPR;
Waiting for my man, he’s always late.
                   Waiting, so I can buy it.
                   then smoke it.
                   then hide myself;
          Stow-ed a-way
& it’s almost fall,
        I find peace in the fallen leaves,
           the stoic desperation in the liberation
              of those sweet Autumn trees.

Drive ‘round town; Nostalgia is a solitary perfume;
         let it take the wheel&lead the way —
I can see silhouettes
         through the fog of cigarettes, hologram faces.
Drive ‘round town over bridges I forgot to burn
            and
      instead, just let decay...

Drive ‘round town — let
        the music choose my destination, let
                                       the rhythm lead the way, let
               the groove shake the memories loose.
Sometimes I drive for hours, sometimes
                                                I let my mind wander for days.
Sometimes I roll the world on my tongue,
                                                sometimes­ I have nothing to say.


Drive ‘round town; Nostalgia
                                         color my contempt;
       Deadwood&drygrass&nomoneyforent.
                  Sanity is counted in dollars&cents
       & This place always stinks like ****.

I love the beauty of the lake
                                 but
                            I hate what it reflects.
Hushed earth-tones and
                pastel humanity,
Vanity injected with a tie-around-the-neck.

Drive ‘round town; Nostalgia
                                 keeps me from sober.
        The sun feeds my head
                                 and the roads are now my owner.
“**** it’s too cold out
                                 for the middle-of-October!”

Hushed earth-tones
                        and pastel humanity;
Blush'd guru trance O how petty I’ve be-come!
 ... isolation is intoxicating.
           “No more, no more…”
I’m already dumb,
           Shouldn’t I be happy?

Drive ‘round town; Nostalgia
                                        color me voodoo,
                the faded twilight feeds my melancholy;

In spring I plant my harvest in fall I reap the seeds.

Nothing much else to do.

But
Drive ‘round town & let the countryside woo me.
Lived here for 15 years,
           (turns out)
nobody ever knew me.
There was trouble on Star Trek when Kirk's fat *** began twitching
after Spock's ear points landed in a ****** 'cause of ****** stitching
Seung Oct 2014
Today was not a particularly good day, but it was not a particularly bad day either, if you really want to use such simple terms as "good" and "bad" to describe what could be considered to be quite complex ideas.   I attended my classes, completed my homework and studying, read some of the book that I'm reading, which has been influencing my thoughts lately, as all books generally do to me.   I hope that this interest is not only a self-delusion of intellectualism, as the book may describe it as being.  To even hope for that is already dualistic in itself, though, and therefore makes the previous statement even more true.  There appears to be fault in fault, error in error.
       The book is called Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Shunryu Suzuki, and is a great explanation of Zen Buddhism and of living in general.   I would most highly recommend it to anyone who is alive and has ever felt sad or dissatisfied, which pretty much means everyone who has ever lived.  Don't get me wrong, there is a likely chance that you will disagree with the philosophy of Zen Buddhism as a whole, or even find some of the ideas presented to be quite ridiculous, and that's perfectly okay.  However, it does no harm to read about all ideas, all philosophies.  You will not know until you at least understand what is being presented, so it is best to let go of all pre-conceptions and to just listen and try to understand to the best of your ability.   If there is anything from this book that can be universally accepted, it is that it is best to keep a completely open mind, to learn and welcome all ideas with patience, really hearing them, and not from some one-sided, opinion-based point of view.  I think that you can surely do that.  Good night.
Ella James Apr 2020
If the world was ending,

I would cry.

I would think of all the possible outcomes of my death.

Painful?

Beautiful?



Would the fact that death doesn’t scare me make a difference?

But the reaction would break me forever

This world is huge, we have no idea

We are blind.

We are deaf.  

To the fact that this world is selfish.



Why would I want to live in a place like this?

Ya know what, let’s become God

Let’s start again. Make a new one

A new life.

A happier one.  



Make it so that there is no pain

No suffering.

No tears, no scars

A place where we can live our dreams

To experience experiences.  



You are small.

You don’t matter.  

No one cares ya know

Not in this life. Selfish is what we are

We are like children who don’t share their toys

Like a teenage girl who howls

when she doesn’t get a Suzuki Swift for her 16th birthday.
Donall Dempsey Nov 2020
KEATS RIDES A  HARLEY

(Mildred: Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?

Johnny: Whaya got? )

"Keats on a Harley..."
I begin to say.

"Oh! You think so. . ?"
she says.

"Thought he'd be more
a Ducati kind of guy."

Now her mind revs up
and she kickstarts her shtick.

"Byron would most def. be
a Kawasaki dude I betcha!"

She just runs through whatever
I was going to interject;

"And Shelly I see him
as a Suzuki rebel!"

Coleridge? Now he'd be
the Moto Guzzi type for sure!"

"Can I..." I say
trying to get a word in.

"..pull you over and get you to dismount
your Romantic poets/motorbike tangent!"

"Keats was not that Keats but
the URiNALS drummer's pet goldfish."

"Oh...!" she says "Oh!"
She was never a fan.

"Liked 'em when they became
the 100 Flowers better."

"Yeah they went from a **** take parody
of Punk to their Maoist moniker."

"Let 100 flowers bloom and.."
she knows her Mao.

Calls her cat that.
"...and a 100 schools of thought contend."

Bikes and Mao just
ain't my thing.

I was always
more a Gun Club type of guy.

Called my cat
Lucky Jim...because he wasn't.

But Keats Rides a Harley
would be a great title for a poem.
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
No need to fear the intellectuals
It's such an ugly word

Ichiro Suzuki
On second stealing third

Harvard and Chicago
I don't think they heard

Socrates doesn't know
Knowledge is Absurd

       I'm a theonerd.
It smells like **** and it tastes like ****. What is it? It's ****. I thought so. George Bush was cremated, ½ his ashes were flushed down the toilet while the rest were mixed with marijuana and smoked by *******. "Here's to the good times!" George Washington said to Martha as he mounted her smallest ******. And although Abe L. was no stranger to hand-washing, he just couldn't scratch without crutches. "I'll take gonorrhea for 400, Alex."

I felt so very much alone at Dairy Queen till the hot ice cream girly girl cried, "Easy lover boy while I relieve the tension in your bone."
I shall always dimly remember my whorish girlfriend's lard ***-end especially when, to pick up her stolen Suzuki keys, she had to bend over in a ghetto crack house where we squatted like gay Democrats.
Qualyxian Quest Oct 2021
Badly deceived
By the imperialist and kooky
D.T. Suzuki

Not fully aware
Of the ambition and drama
Surrounding the Dalai Lama

But right spot on!
Regarding his brother
Thich Nhat Hanh
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
I can set aside the religiosity
I live ordinary days

Taco trunk for lunch
Basketball I plays

Family separation
Memories of Xie Xies

Ichiro Suzuki
Long after Willie Mays

I'm a Bored Panda
I hope my music stays

           50 Ways.
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
Ichiro Suzuki
Bert "be home" Byleven

Reading Mr. Clarke
(Kevin)

Amos 3:7
Qualyxian Quest May 2021
Blowin' in the wind
Then 9:37

Long ago in Florida
My basketball friend Kevin

Watch with her favorite movies
'Twould be very heaven

Ichiro Suzuki
Bert "be home" Blyleven

             Play ball!
Crazy as a crazy gets
I'm on my david Suzuki tip
Major stupid ****.
Framed by a smooth built script.
Like jews knew hits
Where written in jehovas fists
Know me *****.

Swear I'm naked in figure.
If its dough they want.
I got a bake in mixture.
Fragrant spritzer.
Of a champagne sail away.
Neath skies of give aways.
Trip vacations. Swag bag winners.
project  housing remaking
Villages. With billions made with in
A money system. To feed hungry children.
lobbying dummy politicians.
To drop guns and hit man.
Like gods got nuns and Christians.
We don't slum but the slums
Got big plans
Once this business sharing website
Hits man
Its like witness to a switch stance
Watch it *** either way I'm going to hit man...
☆ ☼ ☂ ☺ ☹☆ ☼ ☂ ☺ ☹☆ ☼ ☂ ☺ ☹☆ ☼ ☂ ☺ ☹☆ ☼ ☂ ☺ ☹
I felt so very much alone at Dairy Queen till the hot ice cream girly
girl cried, "Easy lover boy while I relieve the tension in your bone."
I shall always dimly remember my whorish girlfriend's lard ***-end especially when, to pick up her stolen Suzuki keys, she had to bend
over in a ghetto crack house where we squatted like gay Democrats

— The End —