Poetry is an effective tool if the message and its reading bring about action change from the old heat from the cold. When used to gain attention unwarranted as its script is used for tools of ************ it's the exchange rate that makes it valuable and its cost makes circles jerking off in the wake follow me follow you and now were all blue hurt by the world hurt by man who did not understand you need more then you can give to another, I won't say pathetic but wait I just did maybe another line I shall live now I will be still because thrills are now hollow he ****** off all the day in this way.......
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 4:02 AM UTC
I have been gone man just clawing at the door man as the crowd dispersed from its walls. Deepening the notion of time I now see you as a triskelle dreampt in the waves of a sea. Close your eyes and forget to see come into the light of the cone, now become a point of light as a particle and then transform into its darkness as you're swallowed. Dispersal of matter flowing force from the hallowed and now is then and before came tomorrow I see chaos in those eyes and it's no hastened suprise as the sunrise never comes to this place outside of conception words ramble on with no discernible flow I fell atop and below and directionless throes amazed not by 9 and this 6 comes in 3. Pressure reforms you as human in a body or a body of a human the dna will show you where to go, lost yes were lost but is that backward or is it in forward now seen from its behind, reason is back but I dont feel its mine, it's an endless pony show as the dogs now appear in this world. Seeded by this design raising some flag so it flies as glory faded fast from the temperature that is deadly but doesn't die, transformation inside of transcendence cored out by a wave of pretentious, fools feel they know and the knowledge fools the foundry where dimensions cut from dimension and your stop is here get out when it stops and take the escalation to 3 your fit with the pin access is granted now pass to your quarter a box in a wall of a million lost now in numbers of human observation. Goodbye before slumber you'll wake up in ages now frozen in times quandary prision....
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 3:27 AM UTC
who would have thought this would be our world... who could have known that we would all be in this subatomic illusion... we stand with our souls aflame never knowing the mirrored veneer... The years are making decades and i sleep to see the dream tonight crept spreading upon my screen but i cant remember in the dawn awake to screaming rays of sun looming its death erases all of man now futility crys a mortal lie of afterlife adorning souls infinite;y inflated spiked with saga induced ideas that lay engorged of a brain inside a shell flush with the chemical structure inherent like a k plan inlaying bricks to hell and im ending now because im done numbed by the numbers and tumbling aeroerratic forcing the sky to rip the fabric open wide eyes bending rendering statehood complete.........
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
Fuckkkkkkkk im wasting my time on these words again.
Humankind get away retreat with the waves pulse of energy stored in the blades of green green grass when the blossoms swallow the atmosphere and spit out the echo of rain and rain rain rain rain is the sweetest caress coming down from the bell of its ringing...
Sound of infinity and the lungs of vanity chiming in time with the tone of a nation animated with breath... Ohhh saviors are about and none can be without the people who stand in the place of ancestors we come from our kin full of sin but still in line to add spin
Collaped in the dizzy brain of a seeker as his casket closes and the body will be buried with the family grieving and the night comes on with a blank stare and a question for the ages never to be seen by the leftovers
No or yea or maybe or not or the songs or the solace waning while it slowly calls out im alive im alive im alive
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC
Can this one moment just be alive and reeling in the toil of tiny cities and intellectual centers of this thought where its no more mine then it is inside the hearts ever beat banging to the vibe forcing air all around to dispell go back to your momma go back to the womb going back to the place where my life took hold and the days in the summer made me lonely where i saw the center i saw its center i always go back to the center
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:22 AM UTC
I could never say with any definite blending bark of the tree so tall as its leaves came and went weighted by the initials carved in the bottom the tree was a walking museum of a flash of light in some eyes cast into shadow by the ends of the souls natted dread the rasta clicks in the rhythym beat from the metals laying land with the seed of origins and the orchard or orzine.
Cateye stand by weve 12 months we rise by and ive been getting around with out the knowledge of experience ****** into the bouncing in my step. Its bot correct its just a by-product in transet to its next place of electrolytic typset indifference in the salt on our tables
You said you could be strong but the song burnt the fingerprints and gave waste to the disbelievers the surmised belief based on the last guys who wrote for a purpose
To just shed the light by the prowess built into everything
Inside the code of creation the key shaped by the tumbler it holds the sailing of present to future
Gimme song when im low in the lowlands leading to the opening of the deserted place of the sparrow where the songbird whisical and musical and a makeshift place to rest in the spirits own place of birth in the river of times brook
I just dont want to die alone or insane
Please be a day where im able to just shed it in somber dissolution only held in hearts and heat heathens and the reasons not to even ask why you are drifting by in its own ploy in the world where
A decoy is employed by the mister of the vessel in portrait like a general posed in the annals of legacy left by the mapper whom sat the sky by the suns angled drive.....
Skins on the outside and the souls stays on in and when will i be able to just be ok posted up by the innovations and glimpse the effects have made the music never pretending never pretending
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
I can only ask the world of this one small favor if ever an hour shall fit and the words could be beacons of light and please just remind me to stay awoke with gentle wind at my back bringing grace into view as it recedes back amonst the ocean and the pillars of prayer that chatter those by the wailing wall and embraces those that tap upon the rattling door that keeps all the children in the haze of a pasture in the heat of the life it enables just as the psalm is his wisdoms delighte as the air blows through martrix bound code cadets out to circumvent a cataclysmic drive to mate and just move to another and then again in the canal of sight and sound and a collective failsafe that will abort a life like an absence that has been inflated around a parade float as the gathered selection of these types that think a giagantic caricature could ever be the answer we sought when the major and minor dont differ the playpen of such men and the zen of another culture without this beautif notion. Zen be my trigger anddplay in the realm of the game caught dead to its life inmy aim so i fire but miss by a mile in its eyes was the wild soulfire of the warwielding and battle crys deep in the sounds of the ones before whom never shot with this gun mans way to dwindle without any extra provocation needed as the sun can burn til its over and the sky will die oh sitting at the peak of a trip ive found in me somewhere just startled and sad to be him always knew this was unrelated but relevant reaching fingers darling to the baby of the fam a few people together bond with the twisting genetic tumble lay down with my chest to the sky of my own self saturated in the conversation last upon my drifty lips just slap at the man at the gate called the end in the ending of all and the affect makinf reflections by the bay of days wuth the haunting of its machine by the ghost of poor working soul
My friends say my parents have said then i forgot by the lake of recall made to the mists in its mouth in the water in the wet wisdom dreaming of man when list in the blanket of night.
Oh **** you words and **** you too if you think ive an answer for you just the sound of me laughing to pieces nothing will last but nothing claims so spread your arms open wide as rays pull you back from the brink and all can be whole if only for tonight swept tight in the skin of the crawl made to wander in search of another to seed as its life pours itself back out into another manic molecular arrangement is made up in script of those if its sun artic laughter so iced mended and cold rendered to cut to the deep of the mind absurd ol me and the powers that be wrapped so tight in the arm of celest the name of earth as of early where its charge made planets to swirl axioms everywhere you look and in every book and inside the dna of all these men... Lost as ever
**** the daylight and ******* howl at the moon and be that golden light that can make a symbolic stand never delivered from surrender that was left as his testament shook to the place you can go where you can hold as it blows the beginning back to its own conception and reduced back to the file used to make space time a funny little thingie in the gears of a train never ending stopping only in the valley of the stars in the chasm uninfered by the redundancies of intention
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 9:34 AM UTC
Olly olly turn one down
Olly olly satre said one is found and olly olly you made it 9n time and olly olly make me feel time is fluid and time is fine and olly olly marked a spot and olly olly the quiet morn has given so much already to smile about i was only looking at my own path and changes cartography plot course through the mind but olly olly soldiers kind make a plan and olly olly burn it down
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 8:25 AM UTC
I at my end again
The reason that once worked are no longer usefull
When rivers and streams have no meaning
Behind the eyes of a child in the storybook talk of the ages when the time of a soul in midst of a dream never ever.
I waste so much time... The run out and run on
The reasons will never satisfy anyone.
Im sorry that nothing will ever
Be as a drop
It a shift a radical
Be good enough
Humanity thrive by light of the moon and all those dark rooms where beings sat and remember childhood
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC
So beautifully untrue as my reactionany state is documented for the endless see saw. I stare back into the void for a more recent dose of reality at the speed of creation.
Ambition is just another of the auxiliary emotions that fuel this post moment mentality. Damn energy cache that drive human innovation simply for the simplified reason because a jazz drum beats obscurity. Trying to hash out a plan in the observer's nest... Where all the new futility is being beaten into a push for life once again... So often we forget what were really living for in the transfer of notion through physical. Empirical evidence is needed. But then alas a solution for fruition. I will make a choice of conviction and through myself into the void and give purpose to action on an elementary way. A marksmans circle of perception steams up in the machinery of the greatest question that will just never make sense in the abstract area of consciousness.
Theres many many things i would like to fix or hoist into the arena of
public opinion. The high court of the land that cast final judgement tabloid contraptures a device so absurd in nature it immediately is stamped valid and passed
I retreat as those word create these paradoxical platforms that make me the version of me i know right now
That acts as governing official of the redundant office as the very unfortunate state the one who am i in the dawning man you have become. Im constantly searching indeed ive had to make the motif of intent a kind of burn after reading
To find yourself in the obscurity of the void. That which all must navigate. Like a star map made attractive to others lost in the records of human recall. The question with the answer absurd but wait these words feel too real when theres nothing else to say at all. The end all to end all to appear. You just push on til the day that you dont. I cant give any other resonance of the day where the atoms chain out into the sun. Where the last stand of its death will occur and no trace of the ones who walk tall, lost in the tall brush of conscious relating parades. Some men called by names by former to resolute the sound of surrender. A trumput sounding nobel as distinction in the throes of the mighty but this is humanitys mysterious capsule of illusion stuck deep in the throes parting passions like a truth that can be pass in illusions, hung in the halls the service corridor that leads into palace of permanence. The transitory place oh man sit down another thing again. Stop now follow sounds that make you feel the wave of the infinite loom the place at the end where theres a room to the place where all commiserate. So another stretch of time passed and abundence...
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC