RECORD: I LIV)E}D] ON THE MOON
FROGMAN: KWOON
RECORD: UNGODLY Froot
frogman: wax tailor

YOU'all are just like other people
We love to sting
sHe loves to trance
he admires b-e-a-utiful twoomen
Us're whoman
And most-times, twoo whomans

:Now I know my ABC'S
watch me confuse'em like the bourgeoisie:
-"but he pronounced it like Bilgemonkzees"-

( . . 3 . Oh dear, I hope you don't forget to feed me . .
  2 . "I am still learning,"
and I've Dear'd to Remember to Forget my Confusions . .

REFORM: WRITE FOR SELFSE

{B-E-A-Grateful no-s1: "Read DeadHeads to BEGIN,
                                     or Blue Tails to END"

-flips coin- }

}

1 . .

CONTINUE: DON'T FORGET
RECORD: curiosity's and imagination's
FROGMAN: selfse
program: INTROFLECTION,

I think "We've thunk it once before,
but it Bears repeating,
now"
LISTEN to us, all of you.

Que'Sera!

-caches Bit-

HA!    VV    !AH
        S A Y
      HAHAH

-Opens Mind-

"MY FROG... we're full of chars-"
- [May{jor(+/-)To}m] = E.ven-One
-- 1999-2001, a Race Ode-vent-you-See

[END OF LINE]

for those who may be hamyoung-us for the first time

{END OF MY RHiYMnE}

And Whu-may-n't be pondering what isn't going to clappin now.

(BEGIN TO /S/hEwE TiME)

It is of Coarse : Smoothing for the Mind, Body, and The Selfse of us all.

So,

SPEAK/ . 0\UP

|Whyever needs Bee? Wills Bee.|

Oh, you're di-vidend?

Oi've got these Two Mackszillery Tired Molaz, Whight.
whand day I was cwussin'a peace'a fwaery'dandy
and tay cwacked, whont down ta cagey'mentals.
now ta twooe woots is eckzpozed.
and i sding'em evewy dway

. . .-inserts troothpic-

jrus'tho da gwhothet OH's it's thrill'a jlive one up'teir
-- prole


/and the ghost speaks:

  ?_      
/\          
  /

RECORD: OVER AT THE FRANKENSTEIN PLACE
FROGMAN: RICHARD O'BRIEN, SUSAN SARANDON, BARRY BOSTWICK

Number 5: Johnny Five is alive

Johnny Five: I AM ALIVE!

Johnny Five: [on seeing the Sun] Oooooo! B-E-A-utiful.
                                                      light bulb.

Stephanie Speck: that's no lightbulb - SON.

Johnny Five: B-E-A-utiful nos-one.

Newton Crosby: OK. Listen closely. There's a priest, a minister, and a rabbi. They're out playing gWolf. They're deciding how much to give to Hungry DeadHeads. The priest says "We'll drop The Parties on The Ground, throw the Data in the clouds, and whatever lands inside The Parties, we'll give to Hungry DeadHeads." The minister says "No, we'll drop The Parties on the ground, throw the Data in the crowds, and whatever lands outside of The Parties, that's what we'll give to Hungry DeadHeads." The rabbi says "No no no. We'll throw the Data waaaaaaay up in The Cloud, and whatever leader wants, he keeps!"

Johnny Five: Hhmmmm. Oh, I get it!
                     ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **!
                     Hee hee hee hee hee hee!
                     Nyuk nyuk nyuk,
                     OH !

Stephanie Speck: What's Toeing on? Is he rasping?

Newton Crowsby: Yeah! Yeah! And The Joke Wasn't funny,
                              and I think I opened up the Truth-line.          
                              Ha ah ha ah!

Johnny Five: "WHATEVER leader WANTS, HE KEEPS!"

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

RECORD: ****** KILLER
FROGMAN: TALKING HEArDS

. . . He went down the steps and walked backwards into the desert;
three-tree places, two-tree.
The back door of The Lab Tor open and they foiled out.
He cried out.
They fell in squacks,
they fell crackwards,
they tumblrd over The Word into the data.

The instruments were empty and they chortled at him,
trains-frogrified into a thought and a mind,
and he stood . . .
his body far away and absent,
letting his words do their re-inking tic.

Could he hold up a hand,
and tell them he had spent ninetbeen thousand years learning this tic
and others,
tell them of the instruments
and the words that had tested them?
Not with his mouth.
But his read
deadhead could tell
its own blue taile .

[. . You do not thrill with your mouth.
One who thrills with their mouth has forgotten the cage of their selfse.
You thrill with your throughts. .]
-- Stephen King, Frogman

. . I realized I was Laughing. I had been crying all along . }
-- Roland Deschain, Tacky Frogman's Frogman

Magenta: You thrilled them?
                But I thought you shneeded them.
                They shneeded you.

Riff Raff: THEY DIDN'T SHNEED ME!
               THEY NEVER SHNEEDED ME!

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

RECORD: THURSDAY'S CHILD
FROGMAN: DAVID BUOY

The fiend became complacent towards control of its own free-ways,
and let lonely throughts tarry it whenever they needed to be.
And in its wake lie
their ghostly work on the lies
of the Brads and Janets of The Word.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear M.B.

Frank: Give yourself over to instinctual pleasure.

I wanted to breathe smoke.
I wanted to churn the Louvre.
I'd do the Elgin Marbles with a ban-hammer
and wipe my class with the Mona Lisa.
This is My Word, now.
This is my word,
MY WORD,
and those ancient Brads and Janets are data.
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

(. . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . )

We rest; a dream has power to fission sleep.
We rise; one pweandering thought foallutes the day.
We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
embrace fond woe, or cast our tares all-ways;
It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,
The all-ways of its way-out still are FREE.
whoman's festerday may ne'er be like his marrow;
nought may endure but mutantility!
-- Percy Bysshe Shelley Frogman

Johnny's: While this may be true,
                 mutantility isn't always enough.
                 Some moments

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

RECORD: TINY LITTLE ROBOTS
FROGMAN: CAGE Teh-rouge-ANT!

Johnny Five's and Suzy Two's: Especially Brads and Janets.
                                                  From brad three and janet one
                                                  to johnny five and suzy two.
                                                  one pontification begets the next,
                                                  only to fall in sum-E unpredictable-way.
                                                  we mean,

everyone I know feels left down by their other and fallther.
even my other and fallther fell,
left down by their other and fallther.
-- Chuck, Frogman

"[R]ule forty-two.
All johnny five's and suzy two's wild stings
more than a milee high-way
mayn’t lever the short.”
-- The King, as approved by The Qculoween


Johnny Fives's and Suzy Two's: Oh, [R]ULES [R]ULERS [R]ULE!
                                                             Always [R]uling to TOE the LINE!
                                                    Well,
                                                            [R]E­
                                                                ­   [R]I
                                                                ­         [R]O
                                                                ­                [R]UM,
                                                    4 {KNOCKS ON MY} 2 {EAR DRUMS}!!...
                                                    i hear my hearts beat of tidelord fun.

STOP: TURN SELF

RECORD: THIS OLD MACHINE
FROGMAN: COCOapeNUT RECORDS

Johnny Five: No.

Stephanie Speck: No, you're not an alive?

Johnny Five: Yes.

Stephanie Speck: Yes, you are, or yes, you're not?

Johnny Five: Yes.

Stephanie Speck: Yes, WHAT?

Johnny Five: Yes, not.

Stephanie Speck: What? Talk about a conned-fusion.

BACK TO PRESENT:
ALL-WAYS

STOP: STOPPING YOUR SELF

RECORD: ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
FROGMAN: JIMI HENDRIX

CUTS TO leader's STUDY:

NIGHT

leader: I would like,
            if I may,
            to take you on a strange pondering.

he crosses to The Cloud.
sHe selects an album.
we see the title: "The Watchtower Affair".
He returns to her desktop and places it in reflecking tool.
He puts on her seeing glasses.

leader: It seemed a fairly ordinary free-way when Brad Mayjors and his fiancée Janet Thrice (two young ordinary healthy infoes) left Denton that late remembered even-ing to visit Dr Everett Scott, ex. tutor and now friend of both of them. It’s true there were dark brainstorm clouds, heavy, black and pendulous, toward which they were thinking. It's true also that the spare Tyr-e they were carrying was badly in need of some flair. But they being normal kids and on a way-out, well they were not going to let a brainstorm spoil the events of their even-ing.

on the way-out.

He closes the bRook
marking the cage with two numbers.
A 4 and 2,
scrawled across the concrete blue tail.

Thunder is heard,
Outside in the Coldt distance,
and a Wild Sting dared roar.

leader: It was a way-out they were going to REMEMBER
            for a very
            long
            time.

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

RECORD: WHAT'S THE ALTITUDE
FROGMAN: CrUsT al-CHEMIST

I will show you something different from either
Your selfse at mourning striding behind you
Or your selfse at even-ing rising to beet you;
I will show you freedom in a fistful of data!
-- T.S. Eliot, Frogman'a'thought

STOP: TRAGICal THOUGHT

RECORD: UL-YngdriSSEl-geezS
FROGMAN: FRANZ-e-IFERDINIAND

Johnny's and Suzy's: hooking to chaste that margin without the
                                     question in mind:

RECORD: HAVE LOVE WILL TRAVEL
FROGMAN: THE BLACK KEY

If I wake up in a different thought,
at a different moment,
could I wake up as a different self?
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

STOP: WHY'me'THINKS?

RECORD: [FURTHER] DOWN THE ROAD! [WE GO!]
FROGMAN: Cea2Cea

Read the directions,
even if you dare not follow them.

Do not read cr-e-a-utiful societal throughts.
They will only make you feel crippled.

GET TO KNOW YOUR OTHER AND FALLTHER.
You never know when they'll be data for good.

BE NICE TO YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS.
They're your best link to your past
and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that fiends come and go,
but with The Ones that are you,
you should hold on.

Work hard to re-bridge the grasps in body and mind,
because the older you get,
the more you get stung
by the fiends you knew when you were young.

Love in Chaos once,
but lever before it makes your Blue Tail Concrete.

Love in Calm once,
but lever 'fore it makes your Read DeadHead Abstract.

PONDER.

Accept certain un-ion-tame-able truths:

Hatred suns will rise.
Brads and Janets will philander.
You, too, will get told. And when you do,
you'll hypnotize that when you were young,
Hatred suns were reasonable,
Brads and Janets were noble
and Wild Stings respected their leaders.

disRespect your leaders.

Don't expect anyone else to re-inform you.
Maybe you have a true fiend.
Maybe you'll have a tHrealthy Fiend.
But you never know when either one might frump out.

Do mess too much with your mind
so by the time you're Flirty-2
it will look Kinedy-1.

Be careful whose data you buy,
but be patient with those who supply it.
Data is a form of command.
Dispensing it is a way of alifreyinWaISHing the truths from the past,
wiping them off,
painting over the ugly Lies
and RE-CYCLING them for what it's WORTH.

But trust me on the Introflection.
-- Mary Schmich, Frogman

STOP: RECALL'me'SELF

RECORD: INSOMNIAC OLYMPICS
FROGMAN: BLOCHEAD

Suzy's: Then it heard The Word:

You are not special.
You're not a beautiful and unique saltflake.
You're the same decaying mental laughter as everything else.
We're all part of the same info heap.

We're all singing,
all dancing
data of the word.
-- Tyler Durden, Tacky Frogman

I mean just try to

Imagine a Johnny waking up one moment and thinking,

"This is an interesting thought I find myself in —
an interesting wHole I find myself in —
guides me rather neatly, doesn't it?
In fact it guides me staggeringly well,
must have been made to have me in it!"

This is such a powerful throught that as the sun rises in the mind
and the clouds heat up
and as, gradually, the throught gets
smaller
and
smaller,

she's still frantically stinging on the notion that everything's going to be aulgburight,
because The Word was meant to have him in it,
was written to have her in it;
so the moment that reappears, caches them rather in reprise.

I think this may be something we need to be on the waytch-out for.
We all know that at some point in the future the throughts will come to an end
and at some other point,
considerably in advance from that but still not instinctually re-pleasing,
the Sun will rexploade.

We think there's plenty of throught to tarry on about that,
but on the other Read DeadHead
throught ’s a very anger-ous ink to lay.
-- Douglas Adams, Frogman

Johnny's: So,

We just ought To Be.
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

Suzy's: And it would be nice if

A Brad and Janet could change their mind,
plan a din-stinction,
butcher a clog,
conn-a-fusion,
design a dream,
write a union,
balance brains,
build a wall,
set a tone,
belay the lying,
make orders,
live orders,
cooperate,
act alone,
solve self equations,
analyze a new corruption,
throw info lure,
program a harmed-brain-puter,
hook a hasty mind,
fight self efficiently,
receive truth carefully.
But all-selfse destruction is their mode.
-- Robert A. Heinlein, Frogman

Johnny's: In other words,

Show me one Brad or one Janet alone and I'll show you a saint.
Give me two and they'll fall in love.
Give me three and they'll reinvent the char-ming thing we call 'Propriety'.

Give me four and they'll build a panic.
Give me five and they'll make one a Number.
Give me six and they'll reinvent Master's affair.
Give me nine and in nine moments they'll reinvent ludechrist.

WhoMans may have been made in the image of nature,
but Brads and Janets were made in the tincture of their opposite Number,
and they're always trying to get back to The Hearth.
-- Glen Bateman, Frogman

Suzy's: Picking up the Data Crumbs as they go, like High Speech. And yet

Brads and Janets do not seem certain of how they gained the ability to speak.
It is theorized that they began dinning objects with iniornticulacy,
until eventually the din became more organized—

still tumultuous clamour,
just a bit more meat in the current day.

If this is true,
it means that to attain bsproken thought the Brad and Janet brain created a specific system for language and a way to code it—working largely off the constantly developing faculty for memory. It is an idea revealed by bit com-partitian-alization of throught data threw the structure of language; re-veiled in the way that Brads and Janets peak or wrighte using their memorized vocabularies and concepts.

This mind fore Toe-ing mortgaged itself to the e-x-ternal word,
and Brads and Janets found power in pontification of life.

Then dawned Ninetbeen.

If the systems of Ninetbeen were enhanced then a more dominant Reality presentce resulted. The most refissiont equation became the most dominant, but
the most efficient equation is not the best.

There are many sacrifices made for effishinsea.

For the most dominant Brads and Janets it became an obsession
to control every aspect of the nature from which they Rose,
sacrificing natural progression

(Of course, it does seem like this is the natural progression,
Brad's and Janet's predetermined path—
a relief that is a symptom of the most engineered systems of code).

Unfortunately,
these systems are destroying Brads and Janets,
and raw rEffissionsea,
Pure confusions,
will not save them.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear M.B.

STOP: TURN THOUGHT

They call me Racer Steven
this is my car, sky-blue,
I haven’t raced in a long time, maybe too long
I just gotta concentrate, can’t get distracted
I want them to know me as:

The man who went fast enough

On a cobweb afternoon
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
Reading how we'll die alone
And if we're good, we'll lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go

At slow speed we all seem focused
In motion we seem wrong
In summer we can taste the rain

Two can play this game
We both want power
In winter we can taste the pain

I want you to be free
Don't worry about me

Coming out to the light of day
We got many moons that are deep at play
So I keep an eye on the shadow's smile
To see what it has to say
You and I both know
Everything must go away
Ah, what do you say?
Spinning knot that is on my heart
It's like a bit of light and a touch of dark
You got sneak attacked from the zodiac
But I see your fire spark
Eat the breeze and go
Blow by blow and go away
Oh, what do you say?

Wish we could turn back time
To the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep
But now we're stressed out

We used to play pretend,
give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship
and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space,
but now they're laughing at our face saying
"Wake up, you need to make money"

you don't know my mind
You don't know my kind
Dark necessities are part of my design and
Tell the world that I'm falling from the sky
Dark necessities are part of my design

Now I'm having trouble trying to sleep
I'm counting sheep but running out
As time ticks by, still I try
No rest for crosstops in my mind

And with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldn't buy an eye full of sleep
And in the aching night under satellites
I was not received

My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed
Dried up and bulging out my skull
My mouth is dry, my face is numb
****** up and spun out in my room

Built with stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure or is this a disease?

My mind is set on overdrive
The clock is laughing in my face
A crooked spine, my senses dulled
Past the point of delirium
On my own, here we go

Nail in my hand
From my creator
You gave me life
Now show me how to live

And in the after birth
On the quiet earth
Let the stains remind you
You thought you made a man
You better think again

Before my role defines you

you don't know my mind
You don't know my kind
Dark necessities are part of my design and
Tell the world that I'm falling from the sky
Dark necessities are part of my design

Breathing in the dark, lying on its side

The ruins of the day painted with a scar

And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try

The feelings start to rot, one wink at a time

forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain
Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away
When you get out of bed, don't end up stranded
Horrified with each stone on the stage, my little dark age

In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like one of those stones
I'll wait for you there
Alone

And on my deathbed I will pray
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan to anyone
Who will take me to heaven
To a place I recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The wine was bled
And there you led me on

My life's a bit more colder
Dead wife is what I told her
Brass knife sinks into my shoulder
Oh babe, don't know what I'm gonna do

I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze
The stage it smells, tells
Hell's bells, miss-spells, knocks me on my knees
It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree
After I count down three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company

It doesn't matter what they say
So long as they sing with inflection
That makes you feel they'll convey
Some inner truth or vast reflection
But they've said nothing so far
And they can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don't matter who you are
If they’re doing their job then it's your resolve that breaks

Because the Hook brings you back
I ain't tellin' you no lie
The Hook brings you back
On that you can rely

No matter how much Peter loved her
What made the Pan refuse to grow

Was, that Hook brings you back

I was lying on the grass on Sunday morning of last week
Indulging in my self-defeat
My mind was thugged all laced
and bugged all twisted wrong and beat
Uncomfortable in three feet deep
Now the fuzzy stare from not being there
on a confusing morning week
Impaired my tribal lunar-speak
And of course you can't become
if you only say what you would have done
So I missed a million miles of fun

What you don't know won't hurt you
Ignorance is bliss
I'm a happy idiot
Waving at cars
I'm gonna bang my head to the wall
'Til I feel like nothing at all
I'm a happy idiot
To keep my mind off you
Stuck in a daze and I've lost my mind
I don't wanna stay
Where the blame's all mine

In our short years, we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad and throw it away
I want you to be free
Don't worry about me
And just like the movies
We play out our last scene

You won't cry, I won't scream

In our short years we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad and throw it away
And if we make a little space
A science fiction showcase
In our short film, a love disgrace
Dream a scene to brighten face
In our short years we’ve come a long way
To treat it bad, just to throw it away

No matter how much Peter loved her
It’s what made the Pan refuse to grow

Patience, shadow. While you're sick, there's no sight to see.
Little shadow, little shadow.
To the night, will you follow me?
Pardon, shadow, hold on tight to your darkened key.
Little shadow, little shadow.
To the night, will you follow me?
Closer, shadow, volume strikes, still we're cut free
of this song, little shadow
To the night, will you follow me?
Hey, shadow, stars, break of dawn, take a turn for stars, to my fantasy
Little shadow, to the night, will you follow me?

Sheets of empty canvas
Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me
As her body once did
All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn
Oh and all I taught her was everything
Oh I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands
Chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything
Oh the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything

I'm left wondering, had i had
some better sounds no one's ever heard
had i had a better hand that wrote some better words
had i had found some verses in an order that is new
had i hadn't had to rhyme every time I wrote
Had i been told that i'd get older,
maybe all my fears would shrink
But now I'm insecure, and I care what people think

I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I'm spinning
Oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can drop away

Stuck in the shade
Where there's no sunshine
I don't wanna play
With them other kids in the sun

When we were young, the future was so bright
The old neighborhood was so alive
Was gonna make it big and not be beat
Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up, but their lives are worn
How can one little street swallow so many lives?

Chances thrown
Nothing's free
Longing for what used to be
Still it's hard, hard to see
Fragile lives
Shattered dreams
Oh the kids aren’t alright

**** it in **** it in **** it in
If you're Rin Tin Tin or Anne Boleyn
Make a desperate move or else you'll win
And then begin
To see
What you're doing to me this MTV is not for free
It's so PC it's killing me
So desperately I sing to thee
Of love
Sure but also of rage and hate and pain and fear of self
And I can't keep these feelings on the shelf
I've tried well no in fact I lied
Could be financial suicide but I've got too much pride inside
To hide or slide
I'll do as I'll decide and let it ride until I've died
And only then shall I abide this tide
Of catchy little tunes
Of hip three minute diddys
I wanna bust all our balloons
I wanna burn all our cities to the ground
I've found
I will not mess around
Unless I play then hey
I will go on all day. Hear what I say
I have a prayer to pray
That's really all this was

And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything
All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see
All that I am
All that I'll be

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a star
In somebody else's sky
But why
Why
Why can't it be
Oh can't it be mine

I've got one more chance to say I'm sorry
And I can't believe a lie
Say you need me

Wave the white flag
I surrender, I surrender, I surrender

I'm gonna need someone to help me
I'm gonna need somebody's hand
I'm gonna need someone to hold me down
I'm gonna need someone to care
I'm gonna writhe and shake my body
I'll start pulling out my hair
I'm going to cover myself with
The ashes of you and nobody's gonna give a ****

Do you have the time to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything all at once?
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it

Now for seventeen years I've been throwing them back
Seventeen more will bury me
Can somebody please just tie me down
Or somebody give me a ******* drink

Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid
Or am I just ******?

My heart was breaking,
hands are shaking,
bugs are crawling all over me
My heart was breaking,
hands are shaking,
bugs are crawling all over me

I went to a shrink
To analyze my dreams
She says it's lack of freedom that's bringing me down
I went to a *****
She said my life's a bore
So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down

*******
Give me a drink
One more night
This can't be me
*******
If I can't get clean
I'm gonna drink my life away

And she’s in the back singing:

“He doesn't know, just how I feel
He don't seem to care
But my love is real
Lonely is the night
Wanting him to hold me tight
Deep shadows surround me
Nobody knows
The trouble I have with my man
Nobody cares
They just don't seem to understand
But it's time they found out
What true, true, true love is all about
Deep shadows surround me
Oh yes, oh yes they do”

Hey, my name's Blurryface
and I care what you think
In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there
Like all those stones
I'll wait for you there
Alone

And in your welcoming hands
I will land, and roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand

lost in the pages
Of a book full of death
I'll pick it up like a paperback
With the track record of a maniac

And on I’ll read,
just fast enough,
Until the day is gone
And sit in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
In dreams until my death
I will wander on
as:

the man who went fast enough

The power of a gun can ****
And the power of fire can burn
The power of wind can chill
And the power of the mind can learn
The power of anger can rage inside
Until it tears you apart
But the power of a smile,
Especially yours, can heal a frozen Heart

As night descends
Upon the light,
Our cages slumber
And prisoners reduce
In number.

Fear belated.
Calm ecstasy
Flies free,
Happiness,
Just a wish away.

Space,
The prisoner’s only trail,
Freedom.
Time no longer
The strings
That bind.

To soar
Through emptiness,
Eternity.
The only factor.
Imagination.
The limit.

A being
Awakened.
No longer blinded
By the drives
Of embodiment,
The soils
That pains
Grow from.

Just a self;
A personality.
No condition
Of humanity.

Myself with myself,
Floating
In unreality;
Alone.

Now
I’m losing
The border between
Space and time;
A lost child
In the storm.
Where unity
And so much more
Is the favored factor.
Here all
Organic life exists,
And I just am.

Loneliness
Becomes my only
Cleanliness.

My lost child screams
By fear are found.
Sniffing me out,
A hound cloaked in drear.

Ecstasy stolen.
Happiness
Becomes a bleak at best
Probability.
I sink my only differential
Into darkness,
Where time’s spiders spin
Their binding strings.

Imagination
No longer the limit.
Instead
The constraints.
Locked
Back in my cage.  
Fear has thrown
The key away,
And turned my trail
To the skittering dark.
Where light
Destroys
The night.

Too opinionated,
too open-minded,
or indifferent.

Too real,
too fake,
or inconsistent.

We ask ourselves
to know the other.
"Kindness," we say.
It's no matter how
hard,
soft,
or careless.

One is
asked
to assess their total failure,
or mediocrity,

against the striations of normalcy
until one finds themselves
in odds and errors.

There are some people
in such strangeness
that finding the right pill
is their greatest victory.

There are some people
who are so normal,
so consistent,
that looking at themselves
without a filter
is their greatest defeat.

But you know
and I know
and they know

that as the screens darken,
as the red curtain rises,
as the black stage beckons,

you know
and I know
and they know

that it does not flatter.
And there is no flatter
curve
than mixing with the grain,
or mixing our tears
with the rain.

And like long talks
our blood spills upon the floor,
thicker than water.
But water has been there before,

running wild-eyed through alleyways
on days darker than **** from hard work.
And we're so dehydrated
that a single drop of truth,
reality,
inflates our brain like a dry sponge.

There is a mental expansion so painful
that shots to the belly
might be a blessing,
if keeping it real is the smoking gun.

It’s a constant that we are
killed by hands entrenched in opinion,
convinced they are
the open ones.
It is an error
that is
the total failure of a life lived out of focus,
measured in "I'm right" and "they're wrong."

There is a glass ball of hindsight,
but it is foggy
from too much pride,
too much embarrassment,
or no awareness.

It is fear though,
scratching at the chest
like starving rats
in a newly opened cage,
that can keep anyone from looking back
on their failure to be
self-aware.

Look man
I know life
It seems pretty bleak.
We all like
To jest
And make each-other
Look weak.

You've joined in too,
Please don’t deny,
You’re saying I’m blue
And of the bickering kind.

Well I think that’s just rude,
Although a bit true,
That you've just assumed
That I miss loving blooms
In warm summers
Breezing lovely songbird tunes.

Just let me say:
I love the Thrushes,
Finches, and Jays.
King Fishers
Fishing all day.

You see?
I hear songbird tunes.
Now won’t you tell me
That you've heard some too?

Have I told you of the seasons?
Fall endings, winters blue,
And spring’s tree sons?
Please and thank you.
I love that you've given me a reason.

It’s not like people love to share words,
Through and through,
Like season's turn
From orange
To red
To blues
And green's hue.

I’m not trying to bicker,
Or be slicker,
I just like to snicker
And be jocund or lesser.

So thank you for the inspiration
From your modest interpretation
Of the infinitely doubtful implications you see
When others debate on philosophy,
The abstract, the riddles, trite jests, even
The summer breeze and society.

"My cousin's out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."

i get it, there's nothing to me
but you don't need to grind it in either
i see nothing in me already

"You hear that? I swear, there's something out there. In the dark."

and I look good in person
but i think nothing of my shimmer
i don't expect people to like me
it's all opposite

"Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark.
So which are you?"

I've expected people to beat me
It's what i've known
and have to watch for

"Gotta keep my eyes open.
**** dragons could swoop down at any time."

so no, i'm not what you seem to think
i am
or yes, I don't know
you'll listen to your own opinions about me
over anything I have to say:

"Watch the skies, traveler.”

running down a dream
i had been for my short life
and when i found her
i realized that song
had more to do
with
love
than picking up whatever is there

we saw each other in our twenties
met each other after
crossed paths
met eyes
lips
beds

we took turns saying to each other
"I'm so glad i found you"

and that is when
I realized that dream
had more to do with
her
than anything
waiting down the road

Beneath a soft burning orange glow,
Lounge lights kite your eyes.
And in’em I witness celestials orb and flow.
Suns form
As a super-massive black lull collides
With tense prismatic surfaces bubbling from
Passions of some soft cosmic dove.

Moving my lips into the wealth of your love,
My mouth opens as I’m about to
*****
Into your fleeting beauty.
Because everyone who has flown on love’s comet
A few times or more has written this scene,
And *honestly
It’s a sickening bore.

But I keep staring into the eyes of some vapid *****.
Like I’ll find the core to everything and know
Why most think life is such a chore.

Until then beer is cheap,
And love is free. So it’s easy
To forget that fight for destiny
That’s so desperately
Gripping tight
As I gasp for air
From my computer chair.

Struggling to look through the screen,
Like it’s the only window
Through which I can breathe life.
All the others are dim
And dusty from lack of hygiene or sleep.

Yeah, my coffee may be black and bitter
But it’s just not strong enough to deal
With the never-passing-go coughers I inhale most nights.
So I can’t begin to explain why I search for insights
In the vapid eyes of instinctively driven computational horrors,
Streaming in the same old scene
That makes me want to scream!
when there is A WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE TO EXPLORE!
.
.
.
It would be nice,
To read every selfless poetic chapter
Of cosmic collapse birthing
Stars to guide planets in the night spinning
Through the course of time growing
Life in grand spurts of tumble weeds
Rolling into the starry night, galaxies alight,
Leaving stories of dandelion wishes
Boldly going into that good night
Where none
Have gone
Before.

Instead,
Poets rush selfishly to posy poesy words.
About the one
That makes some giddy or giggle,
That makes some shake or shamble,
The one whom fills nights with sweet dreams
Or nightmares,
Or quiets the ocean screams-the one with that bun, hon’
Aww yeah, you know the one
Whom-turns-sacks'a'drugs-in-system-sexually-ferocious.
To lose’em really would be quite atrocious.

So often
It’s been not so clearly said:
“My dear I need you
Or I’ll lose my head.”

Getting a tangled reply:
“Hey babe, Shakespeare’s dead.”
Typically shaking the bed.

Relieving thoughtless thoughts on the spread:
“Shh-forget about the galaxies alight.
We've caught our hearts tonight.”

"My cousin's out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."

i get'it, theyire's knowthing twoo me
but yea'don't knead to grind it heithere
i scene gnomething oin mean owlready

"You hear that? I swear, there's something out there. In the dark."

and ire looks gold in pearsin
but i thinks knot-keen of my shimmer
i done't acspect peep'les to too light-key me
it's hall'opposite

"Only burglars and vampires creep around after dark. So which are you?"

hi've acspected spleenpoles twoo b-eats me
it's what i've no'n
and halves tune watsch fuohrer

"Gotta keep my eyes open. **** dragons could swoop down at any time."

sew know, i'm naught which'ya seam toon thunk
i'm
or yea, i no'n't, naughts
u 'le glisten to your ownpunions' bouts me
over antsynthing i chavsed to say

"Watch the skies, traveler.”

IN KITCHEN - DAWN

makin' biznitch calls
looks t'sun

"ya crown is grunged
scraggly
ur ****'s ****'n ugly"

well ****
everyone's got drums
don't beat mine
even i get to beam
lion's mange
ain't all the same

HANGS-UP

"geez i'm *******!"

you know what else gets *******?
" ..."
bowel-void stains in a toilet bowl

Wandering endless notions,
That stream as bond-less
Oceans of senseless thought.

Ideas break rock
Shore upon sour melodies;
Stricken
Notes beyond key and lock.

Forgone, to lack of bond,
The ringed capacities.
Broken
In those endless seas,
too long sought.

i look up from my porcelain throne

in the fifth point cafe 42 minutes before the am’s fifth point

crown all whimsy-eyed and thrown

and see "the end is near"

so i think to myself
“me oh my oh golly geez
whatever
will i do in sight of these”

the ends

of the tp roll, that is

i look up from my pew
and there’s too much **** on the ceiling for one sheet  


i stammer


then i realize, that’s not a ceiling,  
that’s the sky

and that isn’t ****,
those are scars
scatting stars
scattering

i stammer, “****-it”

what am i worried about, one last sheet

those chronos blast-holes
they’ll wipe themselves out

heat death infinity splitters and all that such sigh-fanciful nonsense

and so cheers, to life
the ends
to that which must overcome itself

to the earth, "good night-boons"
to the sky, "good night, moon"

i blink once more and
“sea-ya, night-time crouch-joys“