julianWhisper

Canadian
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The Relics of Last Nighttwisted bicycles and empty pop cans line the longest street in the world- / making my way ever closer to the frozen city I catch a glimpse of the relics of yesterday- / paper bags and frost covered couches-
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3.5k
a tisket, a tasket, a baby in a basketThe dream came into my life like a hot summer day- / the sand I had my feet in held me in place / beach volleyball and hot **** skin
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infinite spiral of the third eye...i am the melting sun beams dripping from the children's running sneaker...creeping slow into the ocean of nose hairs sparkling with iodine and rosemary...father farther to the cosmic goop of motherhood and magic mounds of twirling gases...rancid beef so evergreen as if the princess is licking loudly on the frogs back...green of colour my third eye melts her fantasy into rainbows of toxic firearms...leaking valuable oil all over her wedding dress...come into the third eye and hammer away the truths of 1000 years...to fowrad this message is to embrace all that is the third eye...magic and numbers spiral towards the center edge of my reason...pure and criticized like goblins with tiny feet...reach up into your third eye and pull yourself into it with all your power and all your might....stay with it for just one night and reach for the spare tires in the third eyes trunk...don't forget to fill it with melting bubbles of fantastic hot sweet golden ratios where infinity smell like dust bunnies and dust bunnies smell like crystal salts and volcanic ash...spew forth third eye and share the vision of ecstasy and freedom...never cover the third eye with hate and regret only wash it with happiness and fullness...let the third eye rule your heart and towers will melt into concrete and paper will fill the sky...only the can the third eye truly be the way to see your path....spiral softly third eye and forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and forever see with the third eye....
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2.6k
Forcing The TideHeroine, and our hero... / Breaking the bad souls into half / We don't give a **** it's our time to laugh
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2.3k
AttentionAttention and tension... / Sirens Blare, mighty like the wind... / I heard someone say that was their favorite sound...
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2.3k
Segue- The Methadone ClinicSilent and the silence... / Screams at four in the morning...many times it's at three in the morning... / They got punked for their crack, coke, ****** maybe it was pills...
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2k
the day i rode a bike into the hole in my brain...sticky grease monkeys gathered around my magical wheels of strawberry puddles...stroking the pit of bones and mud i found the triangle lock that holds together fountains of the golden castles...into the gate i ride with gears made from electrodes and synapses ...breaking fast to avoid the ***** little princess and her rotten tiara...why do the princes gather in ******** blue and black...why do the mud men rain ***** on all the free horses...why do the horse gather under rainbows of supercharged mold...puffy ******* explode into orange fissure inside the dragons arch...under it i pass with the giant peaches of all the kings gone by...they told me to ride my bike into the realm of forever...they said go to where the girl is standing sad... in her mouth is lights of broken bulbs...reach into the glass pieces and find the rectangle and you should be ****** into the universes of white hawks and grabbing children...play with them before they melt into angry adults forgetful of infinite imagination...tell them to make hand puppets out of red cans...and grease the cylinders with organic stew not synthetic fibers and intestines of optical wires...tell them stop...tell them there are places inside where you can dream all day as long... as long as you light the night with organic candles of soft ******* of pulsing energy...and take with you all if they listen and let the others play in the cold winters ..let them bathe in dirt water...let them eat the ashes of rubber and iron...tell those who only want to play that they can sing all night but don't tell them what songs to sing...they will not know what to do and will just stay or go away...with the ones who listen... show them the path and give them names like happiness and joy...and make them take the path with you only until theirs is ready...once they go their way you can go to the shore of the love bear and shave his back and turn the fur into little bunnies with bubbling eyes of shining trust...if all goes like you wish the keep peddling and ride your bike into the hole in your brain...
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1.4k
I slept in a tipi once...that seven days- / i still think about the idea of someone sleeping outside in the cold- / i get very nervous and sad-
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1.4k
****** tired and sleeping in a sod tentsomething told me to get up- / the bus stopped and i left it feeling lost- / i knew what town i was in-
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1.4k
Hot & Cold...it is sometimes like fire and icemy emotional feedback alternates- / hot and cold / it is sometimes like fire and ice
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1.3k
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