Some understand what happened
someu understand where things are going
some understand history
some understand language
some understand systems interacting
gears turning
some understand humor, ha ha ha hahahahah
some understand politics
some understand bowling
some understand indulgence, weather, snowing
some get little things that are hanging from houses that we never glance at
some are slow or stagnant but smart
some are quiet but insightful
some are obnoxious but loving
some serious but strong and good humored
some wide spreading but suffering
a little cocky but relevant
some boring but hard working
some over dressed but good at listening
pictures, pictures, pictures
scholars
interpreters
winners, losers
judge, do
do

the wishing wells eating up their spells, the mystery tour catching an early flight to greeece and ending up broke with no fishing tail to catch onto, mystery wheels of which way and rhyme a quick way to pass the time working on fishnet and fishtails to bring into a *** of good luck that can either be lousy or unimpressive and stupid the lovers cast their first spell and fear is driving them but its heading up to good luck, and the clouds are permissive, and they understand what they need to understand, and I’m not doing this for anyone but myself from now on, I guess thats just a decision that you have to make, and the precious fools who make an irony out of their vanity will be great too, and we will do a dance together, yes we do a dance together
I am a man that wants to do his best to preserve what is coming, to grant solitude and goodness to those that were good to me, I believe in a  God moving through things, controlling things that I cannot understand, because things are just too **** complex, working way soldiers on a ride to vacancy, vacancy, vacancy, oh just scribbles and random dots showing on either side of reading lot and loving the poetry and the history of it, and sometimes there is a movie, oh sometimes a classroom is a place to dream, to dream rather than to actually focus on the lesson, a random destruction of beauty, a random destruction of beauty, lovely forces making on a take out transition into fuller notions of equality, and loving their morality, and just making their decisions good enough to foster an excelllece, of equal stature of equal pride, moving through the ride, moving through the ride, and they all excel at what they can and cannot do, and he kept them still cool, and he could have taken the ride, but he chose not to, what of a hero?  what of a savior? what of a pastor attempting to take down everything that he has already established and coming up with nuclear error, pasting out the tangible worst of makeshift cranny acid truculent succulent brandy candy plans to see me jammy

The state of the union says a lot, nothing political

the oscars say very little, everything about it is political

to war?  to not war?   

it breezes through the plants, its on top of the little lamp posts sticking out of the tanbark, breathed into the lungs on the bikerides, the dog walking

that fresh silence, the music in the movie where the glances are lit up with darkness in the background

yeah, the people get their news from the comedians, then the comedians drop out in the end for activism, grassroots soaking up coffee loaded with cream and sugar

to lean left or to lean right? Does it really make a difference?  Really?  

my jacket sinks into my skin and my rear sinks into the chair, and the world stirs, whirlwind of expressions, whirlwind of expectation

the uncertainty in the air, there it is, and the answer is to sit back, relax, and watch the big fiasco commence

caught dangling in the bathroom, caught thought up in little thinkings, those little nibblets nibbling at your inner ear, telling you you're weird

funkining funkinings frolicking around frustrated ambassadors

stuck out of time, make sense of anything, when the road ahead seems so clear,

and a vision presents itself on a pedestal, asking to be taken

awkwardly feeling my way around a toolshed, I'm on empty

where am I again?  step by step

step by step

be gentle on yourself

so what, she wants to try to be objective?


hurled insults, but rooted in

knowing

your knowing is rooted in

chaos

Subjectivity? Objectivity?

Fine, just fine

sit at the table over a glass of wine

and sip, sip, know

knowledge, in little droplets

drips off the balcony

oh, I guess that was that

Today, without a doubt, best in a while, woke up easily, drank coffee, talked to girlfriend, stability

processing power, delays, high octane fury, filtered through a glorious glass hole, gaze and wonder with me, I'm somewhere that seems to be..further away, it was all allowed to happen, I took control of it, or I let it go?  Honestly that thought perplexes me, I don't know, a whirl wind I'm on a spaceship, reading to roosters, letting them give their crow,, allowing them to breath in deeply and cough where needed, its connecting on a stream, and the stream is nice and easy, It understands what it has control over and what it doesn't, and I'm giving in

or maybe that isn't what is happening, the mind can be deceiving, if all this time spent with work would merit that the work be good, I wouldn't have a problem at all

but work must turn out to be decent work, so on we trudge, a walk of desperate, terrifying shame, humility, plays with modesty.  To appreciate art is one, but to identify is another, seeped in a cauldron of subjectivitities, no more like miccrochorsims, exploring their own roots deeply chaotic, deeply beyond, anything, I, understand.....


this is the stage where I am allowed to write poems about being a poet, because I am a young poet

of wind

chill my sternum

make new friends come, and they make conversation pleasant, please let me be


vibrant

hesitant, chills, chilly, distant voices, calling

wild, wild, ways, of their habits, their songs, vibrato

core gutteral gashes at the spasm, reaching for a bit of relaxation, reaching for a bit of calm, perhaps of acceptance

people

nothing but with an added extra something, life is the whipping cream

flakey

but delicious


blown over a thousand times, over again, again

wanting, yearning, looking for answers, built up an array of

prejudice

devoid of feeling, over time, and craving new things

and days go by

I love this song, sing this song, I love this song, it goes like this, and then it goes like that, *** tat *** tat *** tat, and we wiggle to the beat and it goes so good yeah whatever it's cool catch you later, the 80's were my favorite era, david bowie and **** jagger singing in the street showing off their ***** Billy Idol smashes lalalalalal

THIS ONE

GOES OUT

TO THE  80's

what do you want from me?  get away!  you're pulling at my jeans, you're a little haze over my head, my hat won't fit!  won't you quit?  what?  what do you expect?  you want birth?  you want a new religion?  leave me to my porch, leave me to my peace, I get enough flak this and that this and that, I would like some solidarity, it would be a pleasure for me, blah blah yaddiddy yaw, you spinal tap!  you nervous sack!  you severing suffering sap!  sit down and take a nap you boil!  you pusstuous pimple ready to burst!  pick up a stick and pop it and have it be done with! you nothing, you *****!  ****, ****!

stuck in this rut, reveling in reaching, ricky and louis laughing at twisted tales like sherlock on a good manic day, goofy with hysteria throw happiness in cyanide, worse for fever and worse for cold, worse for hangover, too conscious of the trifecta of time, not conscious enough of growing old, massive teeth baring ***** and snitch and ******, all the ***** words thrown into a frying vat, frothing and frolicking in mixtures of mundane, however twisted in the opposite, do come again?  

worse, then worser, then the worsest you can imagine, thrown into the sea for some sort of great escape, some sort of greater story, to retrieve a golf ball that was planted at the beginning of the joke, the joke is funny, and we laugh

and perhaps the man that is somehow removed from this time lapse will lose his ability to know hysteria, the man who no longer knows seriousness will live his life better but not contribute humor to the mix, but will be, as a tree, indifferent

given away, given up, given to suit, to jacket, to shade, to gray, gray gray, fifty shades of ****** up, I laughed at that one, but later I whipped and she screamed with pleasure, the truth hides and has a loving eye and a whipping tail

a red faced ******, hysteria, the cure for cancer, to humor, to understand truth yet purposefully mislead, the bit, and finally, the bow

i'm waging wars against the pyramids, their heir of mysteriousness, I've got a little fascination with systems, with game plans, how concisely we actually grip to them?  I think its likely that the team runs deep, with the alpha is idolized, but anyways I'm waging war against the pyramids, I want to make fun of those who study them, Bah!! you brush and you brush and brush but do not fight!  I know I sound like a babbling brooke to you, but this is science we are talking here, What of science?  when a man studies language he is convinced that the societal representations of language are everywhere, and we cannot understand the  objective world.  Searle, or whatever, ******* men and their books, anyways, objective world, objectivity, me and my coffee.....

what I'm trying to say is, you are in deep, its getting close to whatever was your ending, you're not the person you thought you were, take yourself closer to god, take yourself closer to shaking rock, rattling at your feet, the exact anwer, I'm presenting it to you, and it isn't pretty, your armies are rowing away from you, you sea sick *******, try to make some connections, try to make the hollies folly, the desperate hands that claw out for you have nothing better to do but to sit and wait at your doorstep, you have nothing to fear yet, you crave a bit of comfort, the warmth, the deep breaths, the p


nothing nothing notthing

to have one, and to have it project ut with a climactic answer, ready fret the next one, sweating out the future, leading to a corruptible past, finishing last, those heavy concrete jungle stinging bleachers, sticking to your skin, sweating out the pores, my answer for tonight is still more questions,

thought about a few things, didn't care to write them down

botched a performance tonight, so what

indulgent, indulgent

the life is not really about me, this thought

gets me through life, I think, it is the poet in me

understanding that my life is of little significance, actually
'
learning to observe without judging
the random cocktail of nerons firing

maybe I went through it to quick

Alan Watts gave this lecture on worrying, and he talked about worrying about worrying , and I just thought to myself, what if there is no self, and our only purpose is to worry all the time, so we may create plastic for gods purpose?  

but seriously, what if there is no self at all, and there is will to power, what if there is nothing wrong with us, how can the cynical be both uplifting and depressing at the same time?  because it is selective cynical, because those who understand move through life easier, get what they want more.  The self the self the self, honesty has its own reward but big stories have greater endings, I like to watch them with popcorn

rantings, nothings, I orinally didn't want to write any of this down, but I had to, stupid stupid stupid, going down the road of halloween logic

frazzled, what?  body in motion, can't quite find the right, what is that you said?  stumbling all over the house, what to wear, throw something on, throw on leather, to match you little pers-on-ality

write the feathers, whatever it takes, stimulation, the porch, banging my head against the door, WHAT!!! try try try! or don't try at all?  don't look out?  I'd like a few ******* answers,

Signed,
Muskrat

Here's another one, people who's business it is to care, care and business coinciding, how fascinating.  The two working in tandum, doesn't really make much sense to me, where's the edge, whats the distinguishing quality?  Business and care, a quality product perhaps?  No, not when the product is care itself no... ethics?  Driven by ethics, he must be loyal, he must be of a house cat, with infinite curiosities, he doesn't see me as a person, rather a science exp-per-i-ment

no, I repent

moral code?  conduct?  character?  he practices too much humility to be some sort of a jesus figure, no, too predictable, no the bible is but a book, no he is of PHD, which has inherent philosophy, also enjoys farts smelt in a tall champagne glass, catch my gas?


Flaws are fascinating, working in tandem with our most sacred qualities, gravitating towards the impossible, what can can can, no no no, how many lenses can we derive before we begin to make sense of things?  read the news just to make sure a comet isn't coming from space, thinking of complications as layers, layers like when you're driving down 280 and you see the city begin layer with the rest of the hills ahhh yes...that anecdote

Personable persons practicing pharmasudicals PAH

no no no, sit and wish and wonder, he's.... god ******

can't figure that ****** out

Sit and watch the young children begin their lives with a performance
In union square
Posing for a picture
It's so cute
And the onlookers sit on foldibg chairs
And let their lives be of selfless significance
The children dance and yell
And they know life without consequence
Oh just to witness it!  Take me back there
Let me sing too
I sit and smile and sip coffee
Race, gender? No, hugs
The clouds know embrace , the sun peaks behind them
The evening is clear and cool
There are sweaters but no shivers
Hugs!  What joy!
I'll be silly, I hold myself open
Protected elegance
Fear, wanting to be a catcher in the rye.  No!  No need to fear
Make faces, shoulder knees and toes
Am I getting it right?  Oh my heart melts!!  Concern dissipates like their confidence dissipates, feelings omit and pass without suffering
The pigeons search for food indifferent, however nobody chases them off
Micachael jackson and all of his beautiful qualities,
Oh and order, anything but order, no no no not numbers
The stone pillar in the center reads of the Spanish war, oh who cares
Joyous evening no wit necessary
The ancient tradition of watching over our children

Or am I socrates?  do I play socrates with myself?   is socrates a genuine soul or a total *******?  would I win an argument,  I am fascinated to make his aquantence over beer, where he may stare into space for awhile before asking a question, and that question is a question, and I pause, with nothing to say back, would we just go on like this?  asking arbitrary questions until one of us got drunk enough to leave?  I wonder

jesting at the marble staircases, approach the first, the second, the third, with some sort of head held high, with a body painted head to toe, holding a stiff upper lip, raised brow, this is what you came for, this is what you planned all along, to dance the ***** dance across the sacred, to leave some kind of art, the ancient art, all over the constitution, marbles in molasses, forever more making music for the horror villains, who haunt for redemption, who haunt for their pride,

and the point of the story is to be reunited, twisted, as the village burns the people become more and more suspicious, too many stories, the superstitions, spawn across a canvas, held high at talks with tall chairs, tall chairs, the tallest chairs, and microphones, and everyone is a cowboy

who is haunt, and who pales, who feels the repercussions of curse?  of cameras flying overhead, something new to be found or said, practicing this and that, entitled to the wild, entitled to the flesh of story, running so deep in the veins, santa clause wearing a veil and his green eyes suddenly turn him a troll, his sleigh lead by dreadful red

its a circus, my friends, and I long to think myself a ring leader, with a whimsical voice of Shakespeare, longevity, to live forever, while the haunts pluck out their tunes on their strings made from cowhide that brings about the pale, pale moon, sinking teeth into fish, and finishing with a gist, a clever remark, that forgiveness is good but not a given, finish with flesh, the cowboys make their music, and the haunting continues

on and on and on

upside down

tried to let it be turn around

my porch is a little ferris wheel

and I curl up inside, and its a bit brisk

but thats alright, coffee is good

and so are deep breaths, but my mind, again

tangled round the telephone wires

there are a few things bothering me

but they emerge with a laughing track in the background, and I grin to myself

sober and straight thinking, a bit alert, a bit anxious, but present

my mothers so tired, tired tired

but she is trying, trying

going to spain to see my brother

everything seems to be fine

heading to new york to see my lover, my passion, she drives me mad

and I'm a lopsided man fiddling with a soup can, people can't **** straight

that's the **** of most jokes, that are told

and I laugh at those ones hard, but I laugh at myself hardest

kick back, take easy, take step, take stride, ***** up, in the ditch, dust myself off

dad said worry less

and he's right

therapist said try harder
and he has truth

truth has its way of working its way round the telephone wires, too

born out of birds creating their energy, born out of timeless time, jokes told over and over again

and I am sentimental, my friend

as I sip and stare off, not my joke but his, but we share it, laugh, and stare off

over and over again

I sit here writing
from the top of somewhere
I do not know
what the future will bring
but I am what I am
and that is it
wherever you go, there you are
wherever you go, there you are
wherever you go, there you are?

wherever you go, there you are
it’s a conversation
that you need to be careful about
it’s a conversation
that you need to be careful about
and we walk around
the abyss
and we walk around the abyss
letting ouresleves fall into another
time frame, another mixture
another melody that is meant to be broken
defined only by beauty
beaututy in all of its factions
and they go away away away
sway sway sway sway
allay allay allay
I can be the person
who invents the typewriter instrument
I can be the person
who invents the typewriter instrument

I feel fine, and yeah,
I do that
thing, where I have caffeine
whether in this or in that, playing or staying stationary
the aesthetics, the relaxed argon oil
the moisturizer
cherry coke
cherry coke
yeah, today is just fine
made a reservation for tomorrow
and I'll go, and I'll go
boy I'm ready for something to eat, sweets
sweets
and *** comes so easy, on days like these
Today, the day, and
when my voice is gone
I will recite with a deep low hum
barely audible
and it will be fine
because I will have that
snakebite
venom
boot on top of the hollow stage
makes quite a noise
BOOM
so yeah, today is going okay
and now the poem is over

Edit, one two three

Check, one two three

is it on?  Is it working

Edit, one two three

You still with me?

but microwaved is just fine


sigh

goodbie

I"m crazy and I'll listen to your **** too, lets howl

HOOWWLLLLLL at the moon

Ginsberg was alight,, we can beat him at his game

Keroac is like...jesus, but he wouldn't mind

Dean just drives.  HA.  I'm gonna go get some Gan Ja nows peace

placed on the counter a letter of acceptance, for my brother, who I suspect my mother favors

a letter which I've already had, which is now in the past, and now it is his turn to take a chance

and I sit and ponder, with my wine, after showing...spite, in spite of myself

hating myself for not speaking highly of him, confused about how it is I can emerge, knowing that there is something inside of me burning, but the energy does not run on love alone, no, I rely on their support

bothered, hopeless, a prince, nothing is my own, the son of PHD's, working everyday, heavily, work as a way of life, climbing fossilized into the very spirit, the bone, the bone, the bone, to pursue or to desire something other than the hardest of work is frightening, is unknown,

an artist supported by business, working in tandem for years, perhaps the two couldn't work without each other, art in its arrogance and business in its modesty, or perhaps the other way around,

even a site called hello poetry, what of its business?  I am not sure, what of its profits?  not a clue, they could be benefitting off of every word I write, but I depend on their site to project my bits, my uselasssfullglossful sentiments, with notes at the end that gives one an opportunity to be fabulous

fabulous, fabulousness, entry, entress, prince, looking up at the twighlight, rescued by nothing, a rebel with something to lose, a bourgeois without room for entitlement, entitlement being the reward of bourgeois, or perhaps education alone, I can be grateful for

which brings me back to that acceptance letter, and my feelings of spite, then I spat, and I want to confess tonight, that I regret that

to recite something
to let it be in your bones
to let it exist outside of yourself
to let it mulch to let it dwindle to let it begin
and to let it roll over
and to let it slip
and to let it die
and to let it roll around in a ditch
and to swim and scream and roundabout
and to control and to gag and to conquer
and to mistake and to make gate and to stand on the top of the curb
to be ahead of the game
to be moxy, merry, maybe just stay the same
imbicile working for a penny a day
while another man in the corner makes marmalade
I’m bouncing, happy, glamourous gratitude
going on around the stratosphere making my own career out of solitude
masked in a gag of reddened retina on display with buddah
large intensinal malfunction on the way towards the retina
the eye, the eye, the eye, the eye
and some may type as quickly as I
and I do dare to challenge them to a duel
as I will take them into the second round
away from it all, away from it all
and down the dark ages crawl, crawl, crawl
and make it work for others to do the draw, to do the draw, to do the draw
and make copies of music on top of another musical entrance music entrance music, entrance, music
make a case out of stereotypes and continue on your own way
inventive and invigorating and invested and afraid
loving and simplifying and hating the mystery
the beauty
the absolute majesty
keep me in check and keep me more for the moon
and I’ll go along to the race track with old hank
and swoon and swoon and swoon
ride the horses
on the way to nowhere
and they will glisten
in the evening sun
and lay out on their own
and lay out on their own
and become what has never been done
and become what has never been done
the ****** is full and perfect
and then the fall is back down
and laughter is part of the question
and it all goes down like that
boom, boom, boom boom
and then peace
easy thought process
a deep breath
growls
beautiful growls
and laughter

okay, okay okay, got very high

and, yes, very worried about what my parents will do to me

very worried about how things will turn out,

the night was family, and the family was good

I gazed out the window on the drive home and listened to pearl jam

the turrents blasted between the hills, again

yes, I was there, again

hmmmmm


rooftops lights on in the house, hm, the over arching, the branches reaching, plants lampshades, tanbark and grass, hmmm deserves to be named, hmm, in the background a rake,  a call, response, ohh, of shallow breath, not wanting to break the moment, the bike, parked on its side, ready for a ride, laughing at the mistakes, laughing at the wrong, everything has fallen into place, into lap, where it can be pet like a cat, hmmmmm, inside, the light, inside, the light, no pantries opening, in the distance a call, a response, the rake, the rake, the sounds spin into the silence like a slender yo yo, wooden, craft, roll back, roll back

nothing here, but the page an paper
nothing here
but the page and paper
limitless limitless
reams
of pen and paper
let’s take a look at that for a second
why is it
that is wants to be that way?
why is it that it wants to be blank
let me show you
how it should be
let me show you
how it should be
and it goes like this

and it goes like that

and It goes like this

and it goes like that

I like to the move to the sound of movement
whispering in my ear
telling me to do things
telling me to take things
telling me to do things
telling me to take things
and I will take it
oh, it sound glorious!
let me take another glance at it

the moonbeams, the system

but I feel i've been cursed with seriousness

I watch jerry seinfeld,I think he is like a machine gun with his jokes, they fire

I watch grimes do her music video, I have watched it many times, it's brilliant in the background


modern, post modern, post post modern, post post post modern, end, the end, of the end, the morning, the beginning, unmodern, self-serving Ironcically, modern again, linear progression, circular progression,

swiss cheese.  

That's supposed to be a joke, but it isn't funny
why?  because I do not posesss that talent

or perhaps in seriousness I am the funniest person in the world

jerry told a joke about men believing they are super heroes in their own lives

I laughed, and I laughed, and I laughed

but now the joke is over and I am serious again

time, wine, time, wine,

I had an enlightenment, but then it wore off, like a drug wears off


just time, this time

the superior and the inferior, the irritated and the depressed, the easy going and there trting, all of them having their points, all of their having their good hair days, their aggressive plays, the clutch attitudes, their heads waking up on the right side, the moment of glory and the bottom of hell, aribbbity anphibbity jee whizz taking the next position, the right position, irritated days, then morality sets in, sometimes able to breach but then having the mind set in and bring one to the thinking giving tree, why to I feel a concise, a morality, why is the passion in conflict with the reason, and then I try to hard to undersratnnd while all the time, I ‘m really just siting in a chair and thinking staring off into space all day, my thoughts are insecurities on speed trying to get to the next meeting point whereI can make up some sort of excuse to get myself some attention some *** and soup and love and who makes up my mind, who tells me what to do so I can shower, so I can devour wings, so I can tell them they were wrong, so I can roll around on the dusty stage, so that I can sit in a dive bar and reflect on it all, so I can fantisize, congratulate myself for things that haven’t even happened, a young ego completely out of flux, attempting to wrap myself but sweating and completely directionless, in the LA sun, hair flying all through the wind!

the types of tippers, tipping for different reasons

for the social, for some sort of status, for exaggerated surplus, for crusty dollar bills that are meaningless in one wallet but then meaningful in another

of a street performer, to place a dollar in his case, cause his taste is somewhat reflective of the atmosphere in the street, and she has a pretty smile on her face

to tip, because you don't know what tomorrow will bring, because the money you have will be meaningless on your death bed

to tip to be closer to One, to be closer to I, closer to Christ, to Allah, to be closer to right

to tip, to give with the hope of one day being able to take with understanding, belief in karma can be relaxing

to tip, because of the moment, to keep things moving, you saw someone at the end of the bar and its in your best interest to invest

to tip, to tip for kind service, to tip for pleasantries, for smiles and anecdote, relatability, a small investment for lea sure, and still that is soft

to tip?  or not to tip, because belief is a *****

to not tip on principle, and to feel better that way, pay more for the donut, to start the day

to tip out of judgement, out of taste, one service was better than another, a standard, and a tip is an extra, a cherry for balance, a system in which you believe in

to tip the man who parks your car because out of fear that he will take it joyously far


to tip, to take, to put penny in jar, for charity, for good company.  to tip

fascinates me

so here I am, fantasizing about tapping howard stern on the nuts swiftly with my boot

when I realize, it is four in the morning, and that's the hour between hours,

it's not three, three...you go to sleep and its fine

five... you say i'll just stay up and greet the dawn, why not?

four the one, the hour, things make sense at this hour, its strange

the audition  is a....football throw through a touchdown post covered by fog and faces of loved ones

and the white room extends, there are no ultimatums, and there is just listless eternal non existence- as in....existing

and, I don't blame anyone, I have a few things that are okay..

I wish for more... I yearn for something that I cannot have

and seedlessly jaded with hot coffeee

I'll be alright

as if sleep is surrender, beckoning to me, as some sort of a menacing creature from a cartoon series,w ith a fishtail and a gibbering little smile, beckoning, and I am defenseless yet also powerful, sitting on my carpet, contemplating, fathoming both at the same time, some sort of monster of expressionless decodiing, opposites etracting, the big electron molecule, formulating, loving, inspiring, some sort of microscopic revelation fuming at the nostrils, tainting your insights, understnadinging your favorite disvoering, letting it be what it is, letting it go away peacefully, the biggest challenges in life, making their way to the center of your nut, and your whipping for breath, bearing the best and manliest ******* bandana, and you are wearing a mustache, in deep trying to let go of hostilities, but your are swept with madness, your eyes hurt and your mind flickers with the pride of others, interested in telepathy, the kunds of shops where they take your money for their intuitions, spirituality as a mystery that is uplifting, some sort of malice that has wreaked havoc and yet brought on the curious which brings on the mystery which brings on the fun, you’re at it

conflit here and there between speakers and non speakers, miscommunications, over matters that do not really matter, the popcorn kettles pop and the dry salt is tasted on the tounge, in the meantime words fly and they fall flat between the cold concrete, the cold, house, the cold glass of water at the hand, attempting to keep moving,

then silence, song, approval

the backlights next to the large bottles of forget

and they are appealing on the surface

but behind them there is dust

fleeting, window surfing, window shopping

judgments quickly make you stuffed

you think you got it all figured out

but then you're left in the white room with your dark pencil, again

scribbling frustrations, oh the strategies never end

is it the chase?  the chase can be fun

is it fun?  the fun can be dangerous

is it the danger?  Perhaps

flip a coin, you win one

flip it twice, win twice,

flip it three times, and the chase is fixation

banging pots and pans together, tin  to block out the noise

the coins, the metal, seeping into the skin,

wash the hands, start all over again

Off into the night!!! Praise!  Off! Red lights and helmet!  Yes! Hahsha people here, people there gotta protect the noggin!  Hahhaha riddles are worthless unless sung by masters and picked up by servants!   Bahahah guiness is worthless unless poured slow and downed quick God ******!  Pour more more yes yes god ****** oh battles and craze, crazy night, be my puppy, wait in the car opposite and do what needs to be done!  Take it!  Windowed pup, smash it!

embrace is surrender, vulnerability is social, break down in hysteria in moments of genuine embrace, emotion is a paradox

and read it at open mics

thank you

I will pay you in thank yous

Mystyque, lost in your clutches, beckoning to me, the longing, the everlasting

made lightly of your touch, and smirked it off,
but always found myself back at the foot of the piano, laying it out, far out the dress, the long dress, of mystyque, lay of me, layer of layers, clawing at the absence of time, your jaw dropping exposure, endure, ensure the masses that there isn’t a scene here anymore
butterly love lasting sadness, jiving mystery, beauty, your rival, shock her in the eye, shuck the corns from her toes, a mildew the droplets and form the new ring, sounding the array of fixtures, fingerling crossings, in the middle of a field attempting to shoot a scene, not going as planned, never to be what is expceted, or perhaps never better, a clamor, a vicious madness a stamour, mystyque, your forces know where we all must go, to bold to shy away when the opportunity emerges, as a ballet, as a wedding rehearsal, know your place, your gallant white sondress, your dawning, singing random tunes,

drawn into the dampening doom, drugged out and done, doing what needs to be done, fickle and free with the time, you surely know the direction, you see the deed, which rhyme?  your wellspring, your sinking fixture at the top of the ceiling, dripping off the balcony and onto onlookers, where they keep their deepest lockets, locked up in secrecy, breath in my direction!

and ****** it grows
I sing at the top of my lungs
and let it breath in the room
I picture myself staring at paintings in the museums
at Silverware!  something so still
and I am limitlessly fascinated
Yes, it is there, and I am Free!  I persist!  and I insist
I say Freedom with a capitol F
FREEDOM
and I ring!  I am not tied to anything
I am young, I will learn to play guitar!  
I am young, and I sit and laugh about Jersey boys
music has meaning
the video games are fun
the movies entertaining
and I will drink in the bathtub
and simmer in it

I am the neutral being
self delusion- through new lenses I a mmmm seeeingngnggI will fooatttttt
through the night to fiiiiind a new light, a new person, another revealing

DUM DUM yeeee, I want to sing this right now

grrooooming and backing wearing and ruff tide tearing ahhh I'm trying to catch onto the sentiment but it passes away from my lips, I am left in the trenches ,  I am left to take on my own tyoe of instrumental twist, taking in the twists, anticipating the next adventure, attempting to throw down into the river with the gators, smiling up at me, in theist little baseball caps,they reach out for their meat of th eday, st

anticipation, anticipation, the black uhuru has a unique sound to them, I feel like I'm listening to something very exotic, it is very alluring

anticipation, anticpation, just at the tip of a tounge, more tickling than precum, no, its a dip, its a small little cusp into river, yeah, into the river

anticipation, I cannot stand it, I'm getting sick of always making it work in my direction, I am tired of not being able to be tired, I wish that my mind would rest, but I feel like I am onto some sort of plan

the times stare ant me, and those who are closest to me understand a few things but there are others that they would not understand, not even my therapist understands, which really makes me feel crazy

my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels

my heart sickened with


not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd

absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before

the stomach in knots, in knots

where to go?  how to defeat?  how to find?  encontrar?  don’t understand?

more beauty?  more virtue?  what exactly can I give you

the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help

not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time

love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not

some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over!  now!  hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back

my mind wicked, my gut sickened with parallels

my heart sickened with


not willing to fight, held up in some sort of absurd

absurdidies, and powers adding up, having a voice, having a stronger voice than ever before

the stomach in knots, in knots

where to go?  how to defeat?  how to find?  encontrar?  don’t understand?

more beauty?  more virtue?  what exactly can I give you

the heart sick with mental illness, the heart anchoring into steam, into mercy, into help help help

not yours, this is mine, this is yours, do in time

love is true, love is smart, love is wise, or maybe not

some claim to have answers, but I am deafened, hit hit hit, loveer, lover, lover, hand it over!  now!  hit like jugular cancer, in the throat, no succcess, blown out of the river, blown out of the wayter, no turning back


secrecy, secrecy, beyond anything we understand, behind backs

you're a spy, you're a communist, terrorist, haveyoumightcallit, whatyoumightunderstandit, outlet, let go of time, let go into the limitless pores, scores, scores, wins, only wins, or deaths, beheads, cutthroat cash collections, back to being broke again

you're through, you're in fever, fighting for life, fighting to see through to end, fighting for flight, only few days away but minutes, ticking by, hours turning to half days, turning to evenings, and the writings become even more menacing, silent standing ovations in spring

only for the kid, only for the man, the man, the man, the stimulation, for one more, one more, settling, settling,

holy one more holy holy please bless me, I'm drowning, its my mouth that wants to surface, with the flies,

none for you, none for those that dwell, you are *******

fever, fever in evening, in induced distress, put on the own self, put on without embrace, without surrender, muscles twitching, in the middle of night, disrupted, no humor, no seinfeld, no friends, no life

never finished, never done, a continuing one that wants to keep on going, that is hurting, that is immune to sarcasm, that wishes that it wasn't, wishing it could be closer to, rainfall
, wishing that it could be closer to release,

OF RELEASE, release me!!! I HELD your KEY

I've held it for so long, why must I continue to torment, suffer, why for so long?  hold me in your arms, embrace, to my core, I want to let go and sob, sob into the lap of time, its calling for me, as it has called for so many, why must I be depraved?  why must it continue on this way?

hunched, ready
out there in the field

rope, lassou, in the mildew

phrasseers on, I pass a wrench to a fellow comrade

READY

ON WITH IT

loaded and maddened with the birth of a new era

in the magazine moon beams

FINSIHS

FALL INTO THE POOL


THICK

in the underbrush

I’m SO READY

YOU HEAR ME!!?? SPEAK

I WAVE MY GENATALS AND FLY OVER THE CROWD

SCREAMING BORN INTO THIS

I”M THE MIMIC


OUT FOR IT I CRY

SWEEPING OVER YOUR MAJESTIES TOMB

AND OUT FLY THE FIRECRACKERS

its an outrageous scene of people
dressed in everything

taking off their

PRIDE> SKIN


THICK RIMMED GLASSES

UGLY PEOPLE
PREPEARE TO BE


in the EYES

of GAME

THE EARTH, THE BARK

IN THE CLIP

MOONBEAMS

FALL INTO THE POOL


SEE??? SEEE>>??????


SEEE????????


CLOWNIN AT MAJESTY
CLOWNIN AT MAJESTY
CLOWNIN AT MAJESTY
CLOWNIN AT MAJESTY

For the birds

I hear you

a very particular twinkle, in the throat, up through the tongue

the chirp at the rooftops, in an atmpophere, for whatever reason, we're not sure,
for mating?  for...soul?  there are many songs I know

you stop for the silence, the beat is the wind, and you float with it, I hear the surround support, the bass in the fibre, the placement, surrounding the gates, the water fountain isn't working, it listens as well, it is rusting

for the birds, I hear your words

dreaming away the night, one more pleasure, it feels like something relaxing while I am awake is better than sleep itself, because in my dreams I am always stressed out, running from something, trying to find someone,

my diet has been strange, I only eat when it gets late, something about the late night makes my stomach relax

maybe I really am a vampire

I wrote a few of them down, the Muskrat, now it all seems like a big joke, I kept a few of the ones that I thought were pretty good, kept about 20, wrote almost 200, mania driving my mind away, or maybe I'm destined to dig fast all my life, I'm not really sure at this point

why does my mind choose to torture itself?

pushing itself towards ledges, holding up the gun, dramatic, dramatic

intensify, intensity, I don't know, whatever you want to say about me

interesting intropective, tortured, pathetic

and now I feel better, I laughed, but it was a healthy laugh
ilyse will bring me tea
now

I went through a length where I did not write,

I feel like how some poets feel, when they really feel they don't belong anwyhere

Charles Bukowski would say, "like your jacket, have a cigar"

and dylan would earnestly, yet directly ask "how does it feel"

and I'd probaby land on top of keroacs dusty hotel room, listening to bluetooth jazz

reciting allen ginsburg at the northwest point.  yeah.

lay a ray,

lay a ray,

lay a ray