A kiss centers the soul, it
moves you slowly to that hush
place that knows no boundaries,
deep in the soul of the world.

Mother, father,
Sister, brother,
lover, just kiss me
for we are one and the same
biological matter
the earth amassed full of nerves
and cells and atoms and quarks.

Give me a unisex name,
my soul’s a fickle, fortified thing,
my spirit’s blue with happy pink eyes.
I get so ******* in the ugliest knots
so I just shut down and become
gender neutral.
Tell it in a letter:
I hate myself.
And that’s the thing,
I can’t straight myself!
I’m a crooked parasol
that was to shade my eyes
from the blinding sun
and that’s the thing,
I can’t see a **** thing!
past the run-of-the-mill
air-conditioned trap-house
set up for the megalomaniacs
to **** the **** out of my soul,
so I yell! and do some self-harm,
maybe a little suicide
next time. Who knows?
To get me through, dear,
only necessity permits.
I dream of living in isolation
in the woods with trees for company
because whenever I get
the urge to wail,
not a **** soul will care
but the birds.

I love your brother,
Christianity;
light for pepper
shoes the elevator
hope and dope-ianity...

Beauty as a plant that dies
and lives. Its infinite deaths
and lives. It withers and grows,
is dead, is born--no way out--
as above, so below, it's
all the same to me.
I don't know why it is so
or what it might mean.

Theatrics, that is
all a girl like me
needs. Theatrics.

Come to me,
bright and morning star,
Mother, Venus,
pray for your daughter.

I'm in rhinestones
fixed against my black dress
of whoredom--boredom!

Who do you work for?
The Lord of the Grand Display,
Theater! Baby, blue fire!

Your presence passes me
like a slow-moving satellite
revolving around
my head, slurred
into mesh—so gravitated.

Love is a shade which
covers me close
to your body, in sync
like the movements of the planets,
pivoting harmonious in the
deep, dark mystery
of your sheltered embrace,
and the universe seems
to settle around me
calm and constellated.
  
Your eyes, a deep depiction
in the mind, so starry, I
see nothing more
but stars.

Bright as the brilliance
of the fire of my affection
at the core of my soul, lit
with passion, intense
as a thousand suns, a
million moonlit galaxies,
is my love which seems
to have no end.

Your presence passes me,
a slow-moving satellite
revolving around
like a moon to Jupiter,
boy, I feel that pull.

Sue sinful mother,
hate the sin not the sinner,
Jesus bring me up to Eos, the blessed
soul-god of thy confession:
icaremydaughter in burgundy.
Osaphosis, sting! bleed! death! heat!
Heat death? Honey, you just gotta
hold that ****** till he die already.

****! I was broke like James Nemas
on crack, liquor, apple jacks.
**** this nation under god,
a duck swan up and ****** her ****.
A fool is red and silver,
snakey eyes and hands of filth.
Bless thy precious hands of filth.

****, it’s not funny...
is it ever going to be?

Dabble dabble,
turn straddle,
wisp tip moon hippie
I'm a *******
tree new faucet
running love spring kicks
in giggles

sullen street
hot stellar *******
shiny ball dress, prince
to the curb.

I drop thee, mop thee,
sell you in a ***, be
kind, oh so nice
with the temperature. Sing
to the walls
light
dances fast
that bores into your soul
catapulted slide-push. Mad!

I'm a ******* dream
in the night
when you can't sleep
clock cast
dope engine.
Chock me if you can!

sullenly...
it be cats in the back slab
****** took a dish to the
heckle baby laugh blab

hit me, fist me,
do a little hiss and be the
funny fickle fellow felt a
not a single dream
can be as loud as
hard *******

applause

Can we dance the diamonds off?
I hate this stupid life!
red, starry, **** so funny,
****
fan
fun
have to
laugh it out

Shake, bake, smoke, fake,
sizzle, slab, evaporate!

I'm going
I'm going
I'm happy
I'm happy

Are you real, are you deal,
can I have thy Neptune meal?
Feed me dreams and orange
stories, drink me apple
grass like rain see
flowers ghost and
I heart thee, ha.
Take my heart, my blood,
my wrists. Kiss me,
let's be ground with this.

My soul's a wound,
I won't be sad for very long,
isn't that sad?
Nothing I do is sacred.

I sleep with dead people,
they like to stuck the blood from
my body, but that's okay.
They need life.
I sit with invalids,
we'll just be sick together.

Out of order.

Hate is a lover,
if you take that away
then I'd be cold.
I need the warm blood
of my affliction
to cover me, comfort me,
so I won't be so exposed.

Pray for me,
but God may not exist;
It's okay,
we'll try anyway...

Pressure, ha ha ha ha,
what is happening?
Is this enough or surplus?

I'm losing feeling,
floating to paradise
where the clouds are like empty.

When I feel high
I feel low
and then it's just...
nothing.

"What happens in your world?"
I ask my ill soul,
"Are you ill?"
Who needs to know?

Ha ha ha ha...

I'm not a person,
identity,
persona,
self-image,
a mask.

I adapt as kids do,
never clinging to a role
because I am everything.

I open my hands,
those spirit-filled palms,
buy some nails and read
Psalm 54
to bless the death
of my cells unto life,
unto life, those nails sing
the blood of my reward.

Jesus, feel in me, burn!
incessant
in the temple, hallelujah!
have mercy, sweet sorrow
too deep, keep singing, ah, yes!
its coming in light waves,
heavy oceans, lift me lower
into the darkness sea for black hit
running, where the waves bury me
in holy ejection,
its coming, its coming!
its coming in light waves,
heavy oceans to fill
my wet eyes with love.
I was
born to feel god devil swoon.

God is a film director,
watching from above
with his camera crew of angels.

God is a maestro,
standing before his orchestra
of angels, conducting
the soundtrack universal.

God is an artist
of a grand portrait,
His canvas is expanding
into wide eternity,
his blood in all the colors,
his essence in every line and brush--
it is the image of God.

I want to wake up in
real-time, real life, real high
where no one can reach me
but you.

I want to wake up in
real time, real life, real high
where no one can reach me
but the truth.

You and I,
your star-like iris
boring into mine.
everything else--
meaningless.

I'm not sure if I live in
an imaginary world,
I don't know who
I am anymore.
Is God ego?

Creation
in mourning.

Crescendo!

Kindness is evil,
break my heart instead.

Rolling and rolling
and going nowhere,
keep going and going
to nowhere, honey.
You're so sweet to me
like the moment you realize
the end is close, hope is lost,
and resistance is futile.
****** is mercy.

Walk with me
down the street
with a smile and a banner
of love raised up high.
And we'll shout to the cities
that belong to heaven
but taken by hellish
poverty of the soul,
we'll shout: "Hate causes lack!
Love is better than gold!
Be rich in peace, not money!"

I am in the trees,
in the soil when it rains,
and my essence pours out:
water.

I don't go with the flow,
I am the waves,
the wind-pushed tide
in a deep, calm lake.

I am in the ocean,
in the morning air,
the breeze blows on my back
and I flux and flatten,
eased. A constant state of ease.

I’m a witch when in the fire:
the taste, just like acid
dropping down the hole.

I’m a witch when I get out of here,
so devastated was the
dilapidated Ferris wheel.

I’m a witch when my mother comes
and succors me along,
but she don’t like
what I’ve been doing
at the witching hour--
only time I got to raise my flag.

I’m a witch when they come in
to make a martyr out of
flesh and bone. I live for the day
the people gather round’
and weep for the child of
ignorance and recreational hate.

I’m a witch when the riot
raise their fire. I’m unholy
so the temple must go down.

One, three, five, six,
give me, give me all of it.
I can take a lot, you see,
my will is unrelenting.

The universe dims,
grows dimmer and seems
to want to eat me alive!
so I scream, the cosmos
morphing in and out
the doors and windows and
nothing is making sense anymore.

There is a disturbance
close in the vicinity,
the clamor distorts in stabs
and wisps and hiss-like kisses
upon my soul, trying to run away
yet stay with it.

I'm in two, the air
twists my head, rips my chest
open and I am not sure of
left from right, up or down,
wrong and right, just
pace back and forth,
half flying, half shifting,
lifting hysteria building storms
in your failing body.

The atmosphere could open wide
and swallow me whole.

My escape is a trap!
and all of tomorrow
to look the other way and find
chaos for today and days after
the first time I felt frightened,
confused and disturbed.

I want to die.

Today is my birthday
and I wish it wasn't
such a disappointment
but everything feels so
pointless.

I don't want to live
in this constant discomfort;
even the air is a nuisance
and I'm irritated.

Just shut up
and get the **** away from me...
I feel nothing.

Reliably unreliable.
Can count on me
to pray, to crave
my apitite,
I'm lost in
the forest but truly
be kind and give me
*****. The body
doesn't want my ****
but it's constant.
I love that ****
and cry about it,
claiming I hate it.

The sickness
with me so long,
don't think
I want it to leave
then what would comfort me?

I'm feeling a thousand years old,
my head is grey, as grave as pale,
dead faces. I'm already dead,
as of now, I'm reflecting on it.

I'm feeling a thousand years old
like a thousand year old patient
with a black hole for a soul
and curtains over the head
to keep it dark like the black universe
but the stars are supernovas
split open like a woman
giving birth to despair.
She bleeds pain from her eyes,
clear like deep epiphanies.

I'm feeling a thousand years old,
my head is grey like heavy clouds,
it rains all day and never stops,
I want to shed
my hair like teardrops
from my cheeks to the floor,
sad, deranged and nothing more.

I'm feeling a thousand years old
like a thousand year old agent
of reproduction. I'm giving birth
to so much chaos and entropy,
it amazes me. I don't see
any reason to live,
any reason to be.

The animals
are driving their cars,
the animals...
with their streetlamps
and traffic lights
and their red stop signs.
The animals...

The animals
are gangsters in black,
the animals...
with their hand guns
and sharp knives
and their backward hats.
The animals...

The animals
are hiding in bricks,
the animals...
with their arm chairs
and hallway rugs,
they're full of ****!
The animals...

The animals
are urinating,
the animals
are defecating,
the animals
have fancy bathrooms,
the animals
are ******* in the next room,
it's highly irritating.

The animals
are trying so hard,
the animals...
with their therapy,
prescription drugs
and their self-help books.
The animals
are trying so hard!

Fain she sings to the bleeding sun;
acid rain is a strange phenomenon.
Do ghosts walk the plank
and drown into the sea?
Fallen, fallen! Drowning, drowning...
Barefoot against the biting earth,
my soul it tastes the warmth of birth,
when the blood is hot in the veins--it runs.
Men do shrink at the sound of a gun.
Do they know of such and such a place
where horror fills the eyes of babes?
Paperweight cannot compensate,
cannot hold the shaken down.
Soon there will be, inevitably,
hysteria! all around.
Faces long and wet like paintings,
vivid grief that breeds a-fainting.
Madman eyes so wide and shot
with blood.
The price, the knife...
I know not of.

I want to melt
and never get up,
just sink
and give up.

I want the floor,
me and the ground,
we'll be happy together.
I'm safe and sound.

I want to faint
for lack of motivation
to stand and be
a good little human.

I want the floor
to consume me,
for the door to open,
let through my heart,
my entire heart
to rest someplace
where I feel less wanted,
just dead, you know?
Human.

Everything's the same to me,
just another trap,
but I'm free now.

I would die to be you,
I would die to paint your soul,
I would die to put a crown on your head,
I would die to know you,
I would die to dream of you,
I would die to see in your eyes,
I would die to move with your hands and feet,
I would die to hide away with you,
I would die to feel like you,
I would die to take your medicine,
I would die to do all the wrong you’ve done,
I would die to say what you’ve said,
I would die to breathe you,
I would die to feel you bleed,
I would die to drink the sadness you’ve drunk,
I would die to sing in your holy place,
I would die to walk at night with you,
I would die to know what you know,
I would die to be frozen in time with you,
I would die to drown in your soul,
I would die to give birth to you,
I would die to drink your wine,
I would die to wake up in your mind and body,
I would die to be your kind,
I would die to mother you,
I would die to hold you close,
I would die to lay my hands on your head,
I would die to bless your spirit,
I would die to paint you,
I would die to get lost in your thoughts,
I would die to perform in a play as you,
I would die to watch you dance,
I would die to lie down in grass with you,
I would die to fly you to the moon,
I would die to carve your name in a tree,
I would die to make you happy,
I would die to serve you,
I would die to picture your smile,
I would die to have your blood in my veins,
I would die to stare into your eyes

"You're paying for something
you're not even getting,"
says the Lady in Purple.

Wizard of Oz.

"They're trying to pull
something over you."

The girls did twenty one jumps
in jump rope,
I have twenty one days until
my book is due,
"I spread joy" is number twenty one
and I skipped it,
and my computer is number twenty one.

Angel says she doesn't like Halloween
because a lot of "spirits"
come out on that day.

On the train:
"We're not going backwards,
we're just sitting backwards."

Something went wrong
in the calculations
but I don't mind,
it's not suppose to make sense.

Five plus sixty equals
elephant
in Disney Land.

The Lady in Purple tells me
I should bring another person
so next time they won't
fool the both of us.

I was going out of this world
but still in it,
I was going out of my mind
but still here
where the waves don't disappear.

I already know
the answer,
I just want to know
how we arrive at it
and why, I suppose
we breathe just for the sake of it.

Hello great big uncertainty,
will you carry me
at least to the other side
where hope is realized like vision?
I can see
all the past mistakes that paste to the
wide, yawning canvas of my recurring
existence.

Self hatred
is my way
of telling myself,
"I love you,
even if you're a twisted ****."

All the things you hate,
try loving it
for once.

What does it mean
to be alive,
breathing? Why are we
doing this, living human being?

How do you feel?
Sad.
Why?
The ocean.
What about?
It's so pretty
and nobody appreciates it.
Are you sure about that?
Hahahahaha...

In sequence--
How do you like my mood?
Sunny-side-up!
Every **** body
appreciates me! Yes!
I am human once more!

What was that?
Oh, nothing, I was just
being sad.
Why?
Gravity pulling down on me
like heavy rain. Euphoric!
You feel it? So much
pressure.
Do you love me?
I love the planet.
What does that mean?

All the things you hate,
try loving it
for once.
You think you can do that?
If it'll make me happy.
Any other reason?
Self-sufficiency.

I was waking up last night
in the middle of a dream!
where the truth was coming to me
but the phone rang. It was
no one. No one
was on the other line.
Maybe the call dropped,
maybe...

Why is the sea so sad?

Conversations with myself
in high indigo purples, *****,
yes were sees assess.
Are you in love?
With the planet.
Why?
It's made of dirt, my soul covered in.

Everything
is a picture.
I've felt this before.

If my mind is hush
for long enough
I can sense that
I'm in a movie or something--
a cosmic motion picture.

Youthful occurrences
all around me--
God is in the atoms.

Blessed angel
of subtlety,
I wish you were there.

I am born
ten seconds ago
into red and pink ribbons
over your head:
magnificent present.

Youthful man
gone down
to wonderland
where the sadness never
had its way.

The end of tomorrow.

Dance is the destiny
of the planet Clemencia;
she is eternity descending
from the throne of god.

Her body in brilliant
pools of color
encircling her globe.
She becomes the cosmos,
the soul's black cathedral
like a mirror, her face
reflecting back at you.

Clemencia, daughter of heaven,
dance for us!
for we are a weary people.

They arrive and her heart
yields abundantly
from the ground.

Let's be happy in the October
pumpkin-colored sunset vantage
before your tranquil eyes.
Let's lie and sink
into each other's souls
beneath the smoke powdered sky,
white like lightly sketched veins
against the pale blue
canvas of morning.

Your shy-colored glances
kissing my stomach like
medicine in my blood,
blinding my senses
til' I cannot sense
anything but love.

I feel like
I'm apart of a family
at the psych ward.
All my brothers and sisters
are spiritual freak shows.
Am I the shiniest one?

**** ****, I love you,
forever in a day, I want
to pray my head away.
What's left is too depressing
to sort out in the current
situation I happen to be
situated in, baby.
we glow like aliens
in the moon's naked eye,
white blossoms, haha...

It is in motion,
moving like a wheel, the riddle
of existence. Let it go.
Drop it! deep into the furnace
of all-that-is, burn it wholly
into nothingness.
I saw it:
it skips in perfect time,
dancing lightly down the yellow brick
dance-floor, flowing pretty like
silky dresses upon the rejections.
Out and in the willowy doors,
revolving like planets, God is
correcting the projectiles
of the primeval, newborn
cosmic space.
I saw it:
it jumps across the autumn leaves,
October running over the cages,
cycling mad over Jack rabbits
like Jack-o-Lanterns igniting the evening
hues, deepening on your cheeks,
orange and melting in the Harvest Moon,
so you free her caged indigo cats
to love them while the earth
still loves you, purple
and glittered like cloud nebula
raising your stars, your cup,
your glass so the Goddess may bless
your sweet head, little child.
I love you. Who loves me?
Who knows?

It is perpetually in motion,
moving like a wheel, the riddle
of existence.

Oh, how the time moves
like a rushing wave,
I was out of place,
I sorely hated the day.

Oh, how can I prove
anything but black?
I was wishing so hard,
I'd forgotten the facts.

It was so natural to me,
at least with time it would be
stapled into permanence--
I walk in sheer memory.

Why can't I be disturbed in peace?
Disturbing thought creates another....
Why can't I be disturbed in peace?

It's what I know,
it's what I feel...
it loves me.

My solemn wish
is to physically
go out of my mind,
insane! it's
all in the DNA.
I was destined
for genius--
the death sentence.
Will I not? (So tempting
like hell).

...so be it.

The mind exists to be free,
conditioned in peace.

Clear the skies,
clear the mind,
clear the table...

Wanting to hear her
birthing him out:
six violent prayers
stuck in your mouth

Wanting to hear her
quickly fading
out of the room
to appear in radial blurs.

Wanting to hear her
mortal cry
wanting to hear her
bleed from the void.

Wanting to hear her
ascending to the heavens
for no one to hear
one steady pulse

Wanting to hear
the infant cry
cutting through the sacred object
of his mother’s design.

The boy is love,
love comes from his mother.
He had to inflict
pain on the origin,
the Goddess
for love to exist.

Wanting to hear her
jump from one stone
wanting to be a
lone for good

I want to be alone for good

Wanting to hear her
sleep with one eye closed,
the other is watching closely.

The thing is over.
Don’t make me
hate you,
don’t make me
**** you,
I’ll **** you, I’ll **** you, I’ll **** you

Out of my, out of my, out of my, out of my eye

Look into my eyes

Rest
sleep well
say your prayers
respect the universe and its happenings
be happy

Take in small portions
life and its romance

You are
already perfect

Time may stop,
but not our laughter;
the earth must be
in love or something.
I feel like a child
who's job it is
to do nothing...

I wanted that angel
to marry me,
that fallen angel,
soft sinister touch,
I wanted it bad,
wanted it enough,
but now... it's still so tempting,
that fallen angel,
I ***** with thee.

Crisis.

The Mother of the Cosmos
has a mournful countenance...
she does not know what love is.

I'm giving birth to Chaos.

There is darkness
upon the face of the deep:
I feel the void,
I hear the waters,
the darkness, I see.

The light enters:
I am delivered
unto God that I become.

Softly the soul sings
from her lips into a smile,
her soft countenance:
tears for the child of mercy,
reflecting the face of God.

You’re covered in parasites,
you’re hair's full of worms
like your eyes! body
blessed with bugs and bacteria,
vicarious ecstasy of being
made of vestigial instruments.
Its the human not so bedeviled
with spells
of quality.

I don't mind waiting
in the waiting room,
this necessary interlude
is working for me
wonders.

What is held on to.
We've got all the time
in the world in this
time span of half a second.

(In the kitchen
after eating oatmeal,
I spot a pen...)

I like this pen
because it's purple.

This may not seem
like a big deal,
but I used to not like purple
because everyone else did.