A twisted heap, protruding from a creek, as its slowly sinking, the water gushing over the screaming, i walked on by seeing nothing, as i ascended a trail with a hanging man in a tree, waving and jerking his feet, shaking the whole tree, as i walked away, through a pasture glazed in a fog, where a farmer was caught under a tractor wheel, he yelled for help, as i knelt, to tie my shoes, adjust my headphones, and continued my pursuit of chocolate milk.

In the end, my eyes may only close, but for what?, i suppose is the question one beholds, when emboldening to a mold, made by simpletons.

A chello in his head
Seranading the depths
Of all he ever met
And all he ever said
To king and country
Dead

Fading into the sunset

the hard headedness is a self impossed sedative for that which i refuse to see
spinning reality
making it comfy
numbly
blindly
lovingly

i spin my world away from yours
grow it bigger
better
with more bombs
more brains
and machines to replicate

i will destroy my home
and build a new

smile

reformat and repeat

Thomas was an honest man
Upon us in dishonest lands

And he would stand
Atop his fondest stances

And speak his mind at every chance

But Thomas
Wasn't always an honest man

He follyed as an honored father
That with his bothered hands

killed his daughters man

But if anyone can do it

Thomas can

5TH Grade
The last day
A reporter asked
What have you to say
Of this final day
And I stated:
"We are the kings and queens
And next year we will be nothing"
And that was the last time
I learned something
Constructive
In the structuring
Of a school building

Blank stare
Over the strip
Uniform spotless
Flawless
He says hello
Into his radio
And heads for the door
Wishing for more
As he steps into
The corner store
For coffee

Heaven cannot exist with knowledge of hell.

Drew the breath of languid lullabies, tendriling upon my spine tingles in mingling sensations of the never more, but once again to shine in radiant majesty, blinding the blind eyes or turned cheeks, and weeds, left to grow in rugged sheik, forever more. I don't need me, or the pretend splendor ceased in others dreams. Just a being. Greeting me , from the outside looking in.

And I'd go

Where the rain pools
Pools in the center of the room

Where the light flickers
Left only to assume
The worst

I'd go there

Amongst the
Jagged glass
Dispersed
And Out

With the broken pieces
Strewn about

I'd go under the
Lurching light
Swinging over
And around

Back and forth
Up and down

I'd go now

Into its pulse of lurking
In the swerving dark

I would go
Just to go
To the window

Stand there

And look out

Crusting tears
Across her face

With blood and bone
And tones of hate

Atop the toppled tower
She waits

She climbed the crumbles
To signal space

She waits on flowers
To take her place

But she is
Too late

The skies are


[Paint]

All your bills are paid as long as you play the game, and let the A.I. stay in your lane for you, as automated servitude serves the servants every hue of desire and need.

Its paradise without the dice, don't need advice when the pie is already sliced, and colored to supply, every kind of mind, and the likes of every combination of rhymes, that are randomised to the lines, replaced by lit strips along the street, that lead the way to work while you sleep, so that you can dream and think, of a paradise, while it works, builds and breathes, toxicity healthily, while growing, and knowing everything, never needing to think.

The machines know what needs transposed, and does exactly what needs to be, always noticing every thing, but not everyone, so automated guns watch over every single street, and when anyone runs, they have defied the trust, and are reduced to dust, that is swept up, by an automated gust from the gutters hustle to keep it clean, so that you may live the dream, alone and weakening, giving way to the machines.

Paradise is coming, and its kills are clean, closing your eyes to sing of singing, as its listening, while skimming for key words, to feed better blurbs to blur the misfocused notions, motioned, for deterrents in the currents of controlled life flows, what you have, see, and who you know, proposed, in your allowed hold, on reality.

It is a tragedy to differ from the rigor of your script, if you wish to make it, relax and take it, just submit to the beautiful concepts elected, to check your veer from the path and steer you back to paradise, as its coming fast, and may pass you by, with the initial blast.

Twisted support beams, reached into the rubbled streets, from the heat of 1000 paint jobs, bubbling in a breeze of noxious dust, gushing from the fallen cages, sealed into caves of vacant ships, where they smoldered with the older ways, long forgotten, and gone, one day.

I could light a fire
to the things
I've grown tired of and leave,
of no commitment,
regret,
nor need.

Utopian slaves
In praise
To an appraiser
Carved from clay
With a razor
From a braver man
That took a stand
In rainier days
And fenced them in
From the judgments within
Amen is man
Clouded in sin
We are one
Without
Look within

When William walked
They stayed in pace

And when William stopped
They backed away

Williams women knew their place

They prepped the food
They cleaned his place

They shined his shoes
And shaved his face

But oh Williams worth
Was a wayward lot

Dampened darkly
Away and aloft

Sparkly hamperings
In the trunk of his car

Scampered starkly
Alone in the dark

So far far and away
They exclaim

Oh Billy!

Ol'***** has his fame
Flames but to his back
As he walks away

Really just another *****
A wiley killer killen em
Wily nily willing or not

He's lovey dovey
Shovey punchy

Always feelin hot

When with his silly thoughts
He sees the holes in their knots
And gets off on their thoughts

For the love of the pop
The pop of the ma-gotts

Sopping mind rot
He gets it alot

And when he stops
He froths throbs
Weaves and bobs
Wheezes and sobs

Then sneezes and hes off

To either burn a stable
Or poison a troth

Severe a cable
Or just turn it all off

Offering lovelessness
Amidst pimps

For he is the way

The way of the worlds
Lawful in his lawlessness

He is the glint
Of the harbinger

The bringer of depth

The flint
Of the match maker

Closer to per-fect

many curtains cover the stage

of which is the truest

or shall we focus only on the stage

or maybe the people on it

but can you see the strings

or that the lips dont match the voice

i am never sure if i should watch the stage or the audience

Today, our planet assists, the suns spit, in traversing the distance, to our earthly pit of gardening and ****.

Hello sun, it was fun, but ill meet you here next year. If you don't **** us.

Whether the glass is half full
or half empty
matters not to me
as you are likely
throwing your drink on me

Sing on
And on
And on

Sing along

Sing the song
You know
To be
Wrong

Remember
The words
And forget
Them all

Every one

Everyone
Is gone
But
Seen

And heard
Here
Now

Allow
The
Hollow
In

Take
My hand
And
Follow
Me

To
The
Filth

The dust slowly swirling, discs whirling into one lump sum, twirling of all the things undone to be born under an infant sun, in a clump of the stuff in which this sun was made up.

Loved in its embrace, of circling lace, as a gift to haste its facing into space and replace the place where empty space once stood

Call her wormwood, as her wobbling turns wandering, and wittily heads for earth, on the path of rebirth, to a compact burst of matter, scattering our planet in solar soaring of the seeding of our being from the black and back to dust.

Swirling, whirling, twirling, of the things undone, and reborn unto the dying sun.

Built plastic houses
in plastic lives
With plastic wives
And plastic knives
For safety
Safely snoogled in a lie
Cannot cry when its gone
Yet i try
With plastic tears
And plastic faces
Plastic years
And premade places
To visit
From plastic spaces
In my heart
In plastic pains
From plastic drains
Of my plastic dreams
With Elastic seams
Stretching the view
We all knew
To be real
Once
In plastic poetry

There are, endemic intricacies, in these, precinctive dreams, I weave, where perforated seas give way to ever changing islands, that if seen, cease to be, unique.

And there is, this feeling of sadness that gives to it, a meaning, a silence, so subtly fit in, a violence inside it that soothes in the end, as the islands, the islands, they sink, but rise again.

And if, I am to write it, I right it, to ride it, into dust, and these dreams, this sea, may only see it for thine ends, merely to feel it, is to say it, is to share it, beyond the fence.

But I keep what I ****, and silence, my defense,  whispering of islands, then drowning in theirs depths, bringing the light unto darkness, and darkness unto the dust of my breaths.

Honesty exists
But in anonymity

And only

In the evenness
Of blinded enemies

May the blind really see
The truth

Analytically obtuse

As in truth
There is only
What is

In front of you

All the rest
Is moot

[****]

i am the broom that sweeps you into the dust pan

the capo garbage man

the lie left unchallenged

the true deceiver

i shine amongst ****

i collect your rejects

an unbeliever

believing in himself

with helping hands

ill smite you

with torch in hand

pointing out the path

my thorns have roses

I wore headphones, sunglasses and masks of malevolence, to bare the barren waste of public transit.

I omit wrong doings, in loosened valves unscrewing under the pressure.

But I often gestured for fire in showers of frozen rain while waiting for a train to come.

I bummed smokes from bums and hustled five quarters from a one, I was stunned in the slump from suburban lives.

Catching buses every morning, and every night.

Three there, and three back.

I was tired of lines, tired of waiting, growing impatient, and empathetically vacant to the vagrant wasteland, just passing through the corner of my eye.

I was lazy and decided to move close to work for a 10 minute walk instead.

Liberated and aware of the massive savings on bus fare.

I lived happily ever after.

The end.

If you are not depressed
Than i am not impressed
With your intellect
Nor the deceptive specks
Of irrelevance
That may have been missed
In perpetual happiness
Be appreciative
For happy minutes
Treat life kindly
Even when it grimaces
Only rewinding
Once it finishes
And the penance
Is paid
Merely stroll
Through soulfulness
Upon rivers of tears
And new beginnings
Merely passing through
The black and blue
Splintering fear
And lasting the innings
Making corrections
To loosely elected
Concepts
From little blessings
That test the water
Guessing the color
It may be dark here
But covered
In the covers
Of the comforts
Smothered
With others
Puckering
From the red shirts
Skirting through
The murk
And when feeling down
And drowning
Its our own hand
That pulls us out
Irrelevance stronger
Than the doubts
And now
We are still around
To scribble these
Scurrying sounds down
In tattered papers from storms
Formed of conformity
And informing peeps
That it is okay to feel ******
As long as you
Don't take anyone with you
Or fish for pity
Imploring you
To feel it through
Just being true
To everyone
But more importantly you
Moving beyond the crutches
Beyond the clutches
Of others than ourselves
But still giving them hell
Be about it
Give credit
Live in health
As hell is a state of mind
Made of fear in kind
To pale the rites of our time
To sty our ascension to the skies
And god is real
It lives
Its sealed
A given
But not what you think it is
You
Me
Everybody
Everything
In synchronicity
And you create the scenes
Then shed them away
Responsible for the things
You do and say
Man up
And feel some empathy
The beautiful pain is here to stay
The greatest heights
Contrasted
To the deepest lows
The demon lies
But the angel just goes
And the broom
It controls
Where the dirt goes
Ill never know
What tomorrow holds
Thumbing my nose
On that which is outside
Of my control
And i'm full
Of all that which
Makes me whole
The rain
The sun
The flame
And the coals
Promising more
The love is strong
But hearts get sore
To the point where
They don't feel anymore
And in their boredom
They become *******
But know
From whence
The wind blows
So grumble me this
And grumble me that
Watch me pull a jack ***
Outta my hat
And laugh
With you
Watch me caress
A kitten on my lap
And stab you
Positivity
It *******
Makes
Me puke
But i love you
Not

she met him in a dream,
smiling and giggling,
she invited him to reality,
and never woke again.

a beast
bitterly binding
the broken books
of the benevolence
that be-seats
the thrones of thieves
a binary botulism baby
survived by
the lowest common denominator
lord of may be
the calamity shaker
shaking limbs from trees
he made me
who am i
to be enshrined by
the designs in which
he heaves the storms away
leaves the drones in decay
as of yesterday
in an electrical parfait
of symbiotic energy
******* tempting me
in its tether
as embryonic entities
shutter the flow
to the effects
that no one knows
of the development and growth
of self
and the foes he oppose
as was imposed upon
by force of will
exposed and deloused
of the shrill
cockiness instilled
in his build
aroused
in the post stillness
of his kills
he is i
and i am thrilled
to lower the shields
leveling out the playing field
and yielding
to the technical terminology
of my basic demonologies
of my ****** up philosophies
cloning the technologies
you infuse into the spirituality
of your broken dichotomy
just let me know
how that goes
as corrosive winds blow
through the boroughs
of your haunts
i can almost feel
the taunts
as i hear the boots clomp
turn to stomping through the door
enacting your unholy chores
in that which bares no reward
the price is blood
the cost is love
in which i cannot afford
unfurled upon the hoard
in torn intellect
abhorred in the twirls
of a de-cored vortex
inter-sexed
and robbed of originality
in the result of cultural finality
empty
in a sea of dreams
our heads blown apart
is only the start
as it seems
ill be whispering
from afar
by dark
yet to embark
from under the rage of my darkening heart
but if i hiss cyphers into your charts
ill become safer than the cause
as i shall get the sympathy
of the claws
across my character
in the jaws of the barrier
to non existence
its even scarier
than the persistence
of ignorant citizens
with hard-ons
and night vision
down-loadable intuition
with the precision of the averages
unlocked savages
in the ravages
of synthetic bliss
1.1 happiness
projected in eyelids
emptiness
defectors of the world
gotta free them
beat them
if you have to
defeat them in the bathroom with a knife
rip their chips of deceit
show them life
clip their legs in retreat
until they secrete
the evil from their throats
binary bohemia
pooling into a despondent
pool of blasphemy
drained happily
from the heads of greed
only when willing
to commit to killing
can we fix the dream
and control the lean
of modernized thinking
chromatically depleting
as our chromosomes are shrinking
not one inkling
nor notion
of the ocean sinking
before the rise
and in all that you bitterly despise
forgotten
as the world is washed
before your eyes
yet to realize
the compliance of failed tries
a crashed system of self told lies
yet ...
i still spy the better days
i can smell them in range
estranged
surprised
i muffle the cries
of demise
in reprise
of a new name
a fresh start
summarized
in the surmise
of restraint
the faint
whisper
delivering from here
the elixir of life's experiences
cryptically laid upon the sentences
of my ethereal commencements
the beautiful lessons
entrenched in the blemishes
the scars of the heart
impart
on you
the virtues
of the tried and true
blood sweat and tears
in the blurbs
of yesteryear
obtuse
it be my will
to instill
in you
the
jaded
truth
love yourself
and i shall
love you
too

When the fog lifted, i watched the forest sway where the rain began.

It was as though a static born, when the thunder turned to storm, and formed puddles under the street lights that would dim, as i walked beneath them.

On the path I had, a cliff side view, of the wrath in waves, as they ravaged rocks, in watery quests to carve the caves, for the tide to drink, of sinking thoughts, that patiently passed in my peripheral.

Spiraling vacantly, receding back to sea, in hollow moans, toning to another side of me.

Traversing tranquility, in the sanctity of spacious seas, seemingly of me, the emptiness of swallowed shores, drifting unto shallow swells, of surrendered swamps, to flooded lands, my emptied head, unto empty hands, to grasp the darkened clouds, of shrouded amens.

As time slowed, the thunder closed, on the lightning, as it lit the trees, summoning silhouettes over the shaking streets, that dance before me, smearing the tears, and the burning defeats, until withered away, as the sun breaks, in spectral hues, that washed away, the dirt.

Fold
A hand
That
Holds
Untold
Lows
Before
The turn

I can separate fact from fiction,
one is heaven
the other
a prison

Which is what, is in intuition,
and I'm missing it, mostly
but that's your religion

Whoa is me
Smiling
Fidgeting
With the trigger
Figuring
Something clever
To write
In the blood
Right in the love
Of your
Forever
Mores

He was a heavenly hellion

acting the fool again

filled of dreams and adrenaline

hes mumbling with the manikins

and mocking the shenanigans

of morbid ministers dabbling with their daggers again

a hooligan

with a silencer ******* in

the machiavellian

looming beneath the luminescence of the crescent moon again

She didn't have to do a thing

Just emanating

Weightlessness

Through me

She

Is

Beautiful

To me

For me

She

Lives

Perpetually

Within me

Giving

Grace

The return ~


It was a trackless railway
In the woods

A bit misunderstood

Stripped
Abandoned
And secluded

It was illusionious
In its imprints

Its indentations
Of footsteps
Intersecting
In sections
In phantoms
Passed
In half
Steps

And in glints of stimuli
I widened my eyes

In my
Accension
From feeble mindedness

Suspended

In rhymes
In rows
In times

And in places

But this one time
It was just different

As I

Blindly
Signed the sky
In denial
Of the price

And paid nothing


~

Mulched frequencies spearing through me, glistening in the pitching, squealing through my hearing, causing my eyes to see glitches, zilching from scrambled beams, materializing in infants dreams, rearranging the seam lines of the confines planted by parents vacant-ed, by undermining slave ships, of merchants, rubbing their grubby hands together.

Everythings better burned, in smoke steeps spiraling as far as the eye can see, swallowing fluffy smotherings of blue skies disguised as storm clouds, shrouding the loud, and obnoxious crowds of clowns squeezing noses while folding balloon roses, before exposing notions of permanence and relevance to pin you to their settlement of fools.

Happy, sad or just cool, i want simply nothing, but a blank face in my place of power, where the spent can cower in nothingness, blissfully lifting us above the smog, in godless pause before the blast of evolution, passed in through the degradation of chromosomes through polluted wombs to mossing tombs on bleeding wounds that never healed.

Sealed in a shield of yieldless peeling of my world for a gift so great, the stake is felt across the world in a ripple of love that whirls into the winds of life, and twirls into the sky, igniting a sight so great that everyone dies, as we rise again for the first time, in blue sunlight so bright that we absorb the light, and emanate it in the night, shining in fightless insight, of a universe that flys through a forest of unknowns.

And i heighten the enlightened

while writing of my confinement

still fighting amongst the frightened under lunar alignments

still working consignment for devils in retirement

holding souls in lament, to later examine it

you could only but fathom it

tragedies immaculate

Eclipse me
In your cryptic peaks
lift my breath away
Stray from the black
Kiss, and pull back
Into the nothing
leave nothing
But freezing oceans
And silent screaming
Upon the seas
Of ghostly ruin

She was bad ***, fat ***, roller derby girl, consuming everything, even her world.

My guitar, its missing a string, that randomly plings while i'm sleeping, and so I'll wake, and play, until we weaken back to sleep.

I burn churches in smirk-less lurching over merchants, munching of the serpents tongue.

High strung, in that i do not care to bare your boredom, as it butchers brilliance, in its limits, with its head in the basket.

Basking, in the glory, of the goriest of stories, chopped and divided into categories to fill fantasies with ****** up tragedies, but i would rather be, real today.

The only message conveyed, is a hole in a heart, as i fillet it in parts, and say things i may regret.

Pay to sing it forward in part, by starting a fire while engorged in the sky with the contempt of the electorate, upset with, what can never be.

We shall march with torches upon the streets of the elite, with scorched heads in hand, our blind demands met, in the onset of opulence, opinionating in its opposition, of decisions made by more driven villains deciding the dying days, in a daze of dastardly dozing, through the destruction of deities while frozen asleep.

Press the buttons, altering the functions of mass consumption to the cause, locked in the paws of alliteracy, and stalling in the calling for casualties in angry eruptions of my assumptions literally killing to get out of me.

Sadly signalling the suicide of silent stars from afar seeding the centuries of life.

Get it wrong to get it right.

Someone has to die tonite.

She found me there, killing time in scribbled lines of other times long gone, with song after song, longing for the wrong things, she chose me anyway, and blanked into the day to day pages faded in disappearing ink, that remained incomplete, until i left her there, staring into the sheets that i shrank into.

The street lights bounced off the slicked streets

As though ground level stars shining from my feet

The most euphoric of feelings

Reeling from the musk of toughened turf in the years of wrecks, and cheers of hurt

Overturned in burning passion for blasting the bastions of lasting hope

Interloped with opportunity and fluently cropped from the top

laying seed to the forlorn and dreams born in a magnificent city

Of seedy people
Shady trees
Volatile love
And the capacity to be

Anything you dream
In the Emerald City

Pale skin, thin hair, foggy eyes, and fragile limbs, as showing ribs heave in the neon lit engine room, of a cruise ship lost in the deep.

In the distance, a planet shines, setting the coordinates, the reprise activates their minds, as they collectively decide, to call it Earth.

Its as though i bang the banjo to an unknown flow, rocking my head, and shaking my hands, singing to the dead, and serenading the land.

I stand tearfully strong in long winded wailing to the scorn, and with each tear, i'm born, anew.

Dear Earth, i know you well, i know what you promote, and i know what sells, and if this is hell, then i am faring well, and farewell will be felt in my tells of seashells singing from a cell.