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julianna-eisner
ol' factory swirling of disinfectant and decay and the arising sliding vision that brings me to my knees, presence like you...and you...and                                                 ...you....again.                   (      (     (    (   ( (scope) )   )    )     )      )                 (      (     (    (   (  ( (like) )  )   )    )     )      ) a paralysis of fear         that grips an exhale                      ...like, serious, for real, for real. DJs spinnin' tunes like yarns, blanketed cocoons and scoring golden booties. Divert into another duality,                 - split -                   (      (     (    (   ( (scope) )   )    )     )      )                  (      (     (    (   (  ( (like) )  )   )    )     )      ) a past, present, and future >>>>>>>>>>shakin' it, shakin' it<<<<<<<<<< like an Oxford comma weekend. A love like, <                                                                                    > and a tsk like, <                                                                  > for who sells integrity on a dime? Slo-mo tracers..... diss....appointment. Unconscious tallies of an inhale or exhale that arises with the all                 unfiltered                    now hesitant                         but, yet,                               here                                     we                                         are in absolute wanderings.
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
And, like, ...
ol' factory swirling of disinfectant and decay and the arising sliding vision that brings me to my knees, presence like you...and you...and                                                 ...you....again.                   (      (     (    (   ( (scope) )   )    )     )      )                 (      (     (    (   (  ( (like) )  )   )    )     )      ) a paralysis of fear         that grips an exhale                      ...like, serious, for real, for real. DJs spinnin' tunes like yarns, blanketed cocoons and scoring golden booties. Divert into another duality,                 - split -                   (      (     (    (   ( (scope) )   )    )     )      )                  (      (     (    (   (  ( (like) )  )   )    )     )      ) a past, present, and future >>>>>>>>>>shakin' it, shakin' it<<<<<<<<<< like an Oxford comma weekend. A love like, <                                                                                    > and a tsk like, <                                                                  > for who sells integrity on a dime? Slo-mo tracers..... diss....appointment. Unconscious tallies of an inhale or exhale that arises with the all                 unfiltered                    now hesitant                         but, yet,                               here                                     we                                         are in absolute wanderings.
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34
Mucky self portraits of                    Bacon strips,                Kraft-y singles &           expired Perrier, reciting tales of DogMa,        tsk-ing at Eve        tsk-ing at Helen        tsk-ing at Mary Sophia just wants to sit. What's up, Gram-mere?                          ....               I'mma pun chew! A dozen good guy Hermes and some, like, no. This one takes shots like Jäger, ja, this one takes shots like Manny Pacquiao, yo. Doodling constellations and Grandfathered teachings of How To Draw A Map - a tangled thread of a quilt patch,                   Ultimate Boon-doggle. Wandering home in the papaya morning to catch the light of a magnesium sky and birdsong.
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Arts & Krafts
Palingenesia sits in canopy view, a spectrum of emerald across convex corneas, sinking in helicoid spirals... Come light this match under this petal!          and Perch atop this mushroom!          and Shred this leaf down a hydrogen avalanche! ...a puma languidly strolls into lush valley's golden cup, traversing caverns dusted in soft twilight. reverberations of sound waves, echo-y crystal thunder quakes mountain and sky,                           blended like soft clay                 through harpsichord fingertips.
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
Untitled
Hidden behind a myriad of guises and castings of a thousand projected distortions, he brought himself      suspended like a pendant                    detached                  &                     objective. I bequeathed a tumult of love, tumbled down the scope of archaic collective conflict that shook with a spiral quake like the wakening of my hallowed   g  a     s           p - the corridor echoing of the first gallop. Lifted the skirted veils of celestial taffeta, surrendered to the feats and enchantments of The Rider who arrived on a rogue wave, crest and trough and splendorous swells of blue and white, reverberating from essence centre like Doppler outward my firmament fingertips, cascading around the sphere in astral star fall, an overflowing cup of Milky Way and melting atoms into grains of sand between the blended confines of here and                                there, escaped to the ever expansive space, Empyrean emptiness.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Empyrean Emptiness
Kali at the door, Did Shiva enter yet, dear? Nevermind. I dream of a future that never arrives, of exploration, wonderment, and words draped in enchantment in that space of unconditional, (since filtered effervescence arises, well, flat, doesn't it?) to speak the language of here and now that breathes clarity in open expansiveness. Now has always been written on the pages like, what what what what and yet, here, running in forests. Winds lift and energize caution and wings, to say one thing that does not go awry, it is         here, like, what what what what. A list of yeses and noes, and perlexed replies, hello? integral? Nevermind. A museum. Relics casting shadowed projections reflected through prisms through prisms through prisms through prisms. Nonetheless, I let go, I toss you like a sphere against my heart-caged ribs, right back to me,                  always and forever because, I dream of a future of exploration, wonderment, and words draped in enchantment in that space of unconditional.
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Floats, Plastic Bag
cavern alit with cascading twilights of imagined particles, an array of twinkles                     like mist,                  only softly. reflecting off an endless iris like an eternal cartwheel of                light and dark and             in and out and that boundless space in                 between that passes like a fault line in a blink that dissolves the one before and greets the one after. abridged by the procession of catena that                          o                                       l                      a                                           t f                                                          S                                     away. The spirit of adventure springs eternal                     where shimmers reflect in                          swirls like ammonite                               and ripples like none. and back again.                               in a unified braid,                    that weaves together   blendings like this and that to discern and disregard and that boundless space in                 between.
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Floating Catena
cavern alit with cascading twilights of imagined particles, an array of twinkles                     like mist,                  only softly. reflecting off an endless iris like an eternal cartwheel of                light and dark and             in and out and that boundless space in                 between that passes like a fault line in a blink that dissolves the one before and greets the one after. abridged by the procession of catena that                          o                                       l                      a                                           t f                                                          S                                     away. The spirit of adventure springs eternal                     where shimmers reflect in                          swirls like ammonite                               and ripples like none. and back again.                               in a unified braid,                    that weaves together   blendings like this and that to discern and disregard and that boundless space in                 between.
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36
And Jesus said, And you shall follow me through trials and through death; but now you cannot go where I will go, but you shall come. And Jesus spoke again unto the eleven and said, Grieve not because I go away, for it is best that I should go away. If I go not the Comforter will not come to you. These things I speak while with you in the flesh, but when the Holy Breath shall come in power, lo, she will teach you more and more, and bring to your remembrance all the words that I have said to you. There are a multitude of things yet to be said; things that this age cannot receive, because it cannot comprehend. But, lo, I say, Before the great day of the Lord shall come, the Holy Breath will make all mysteries known - The mysteries of the soul, of life, of death, of immortality; the oneness of a man with every other man and with his God. Then will the world be led to truth, and man will be the truth. When she has come, the Comforter, she will convince the world of sin, and of the truth of what I speak, and of the rightness of the judgment of the just; and then the prince of carnal life will be cast out. And when the Comforter shall come I need not intercede for you; for you will stand approved, and God will know you then as he knows me. (162:3-11, The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ)
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
Good Friday
My love, we will go, we will go, I and you, And away in the woods we will scatter the dew; And the salmon behold, and the ousel too, My love, we will hear, I and you, we will hear, The calling afar of the doe and the deer. And the bird in the branches will cry for us clear, And the cuckoo unseen in his festival mood; And death, oh my fair one, will never come near In the ***** afar of the fragrant wood.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Love Song (William B. Yeats)
How the struggles served to strengthen my love for you and faith that I am standing inside your enhancement walls In sleep, a calmness washed over me, White oceanic noise, Ebbing and flowing like Earth's lungs inhaling and exhaling I awoke in the sunlight, And heard the soft coos of pigeons outside my window, Assembling their family nests I watched as burdens of past and future Passed through me like driftwood In the clear river flow of now As the last ruminants of the ripples faded The rhythmic flow of my breath, Legato, no longer staccato And thoughts like harpsichord Strumming on my axon strings In this serene love I'll rest with you, Tranquil and protected, A journey forever written,   To find myself back to you
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
The Effervescence of Now
Inside these dimensions of my prison, paralyzed, immobilized, shattered in fragments of fear, I utter stifled screams from my body heap, piled on the hardwood floor c        r      u                             m   b         l i          n g trapped, desolate and wretched in mind, what is left of me after invasion and ravage? Chase away this these vultures and thieves, so to shut out this duality blinding me, a rabbit caught in headlights                                                        up                                         me                            pick
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Rest & Nutrition