Dispatch to the brain
We're gonna hit the ******
Request for back-up, vaginal tendencies

The mirrors of wisdom
Told me I have three eyes
It's better if I was a closet homosexual who didn't care at all

Head on heart
Tail between his legs
Head over heels
Foot in mouth
I hope he comes back again

Being Coy Meaning
I'd Thou Employ
To forlorn my woebegone
Doubst to be! Ah- ye and arts shy
Yonder There of me born
Spears so fragile once, now by
Yor' magnetizing magic magickals
Disperze, diverse, reverse, relinquish and revive, reroaring
darling mine
God throws dice in places unseen to us, like thoughts in a dream

Get out of my inorganic hand
Get on with your organic life
I can't keep holding on to your tears and talent for eclipses
Ambition and dreams
Wild living and dull death has strayed from its highways
We are holding on to your distant dream oh loved ones
Unknown thoughts linger and follow you in the machine heart on wheels

I let her shine
I let her fly
I let the ring finger hold the gold mine

Underground in a mining town
All he needed was some light to see
He was accustomed to the supernatural darkness and low-visibility
No stranger to the dark
He had never seen the light

He was simply akin to his mining work
His father did not like his bright son working
Raging in a madhouse, he never saw his son again
Fathers lose their son to disease, and sons lose their fathers to dull madness

Underground in a mining town
It was always dark and many hadn't stopped dealing slaves
Sunlight was scarce, and he wiped his eyebrow sweat
The boy's shadow never saw the light of day
It was always scared and the brave boy never saw his spirited shadow again
Until he came out only for midnight-schooling and cheap women in neon streets

He was simply akin to his mother
If someone had told him to stop digging, it was her
It was his shadow, that took after his father
The boy hated his own shadow, a solitary light flickered in the coal mine
Not a shadow in sight

Eugenides
Tell us some history
Or eat your food carefully

Once upon a time, self portentous reached the fuchsia ****** on the orient in the ghostly daze of Chinatown in tassel-blue linen
Ire of the bar-keepers can be surmised in the *** and soup
The express takes me from place to place, is this some sort of country comfort

Who cooked the wurst, livers of cattle in the pure savagery of the animal farms, dreaming of vegetables too
Hiding in the form of jazz cat hanging around speakeasies, pleasuring themselves in the ravages of good people
I have changed my mind on punishment and the ire of careless alcoholism on the angry streets looking for work

The good people tell me to get work
Am I stealing my time out of mind, I'm poised
By being an unemployed poet out of luck
I am positioned towards the west end

I'm stuck here in the east, wondering if we were always like this
The west wetlands beckon to me, time to get a job and turgidly ravaging beautiful women
But, that's something possible for a man in a western patriarchy
Adonis of Denver ******* in harlots in the west of Hell's Kitchen reminds me of well-acted *******
Making bad decisions in movies seems like a farce

Most of those beat directors are successful *******
They'd beat me if I'd crawl up their personality
Is this fate or am I part of the same successful capitalist Zen
I must be going mad in this monetary fund of scarce neon streets

You should hear me recite Heinrich Boll
The train was on time

For keepsakes, well obligated and drowning in debt
A trip to the orient wouldn't be bad, but, the fire in my painted house swallows me
Someone has to put it the **** out or turn the light cold
Years went by Frumpy went cold and murderous, no more old

In the look-out of lamps
The peak of evidence in the ridiculous cheer
Cry, baby jeering
Indignant on the field of dreams
Suckling in his cropped photos clearly in kuv
Oasis and the mirage of love and teller maps
We crowd the love with the affection of all sorts of purchases
Venus bought Cupid a bow when he was conceived in her salacious dreams and voluptuous *******
Stammering with ransacked inns of heartbreak, hotels bustling
The battlecry sounded like the Camus in this outsider to life looking for exile
We can inadvertently enjoy this pyromania and **** our dreary fears with a sensitive soul
In the form of Gods, and belief in the love of residents of the heart so fickle
We are on the moon if we could just have our rightful place on the blue moon, away from the crass clowns
Whatever decides, decides whenever it wishes, without wondering
I just don't like dying to the idea of conformism or lobotomized
I understand the idea of being crushed, but, not disappointment
That's a something I cannot reconcile

Flying paper planes
Erasure mornings on trains
This planet is on the wheels of the Solar System

We welcomed the war in the confusion
On our souls with shrieks of haunting derelicts
Reminded our parents that we were wrong, whispers of the honorific Hakagawa bows
Predating the caitiffs of the pejorative context of the peace talks in the city light bowing out
Trenchantly expressing ourselves in vapid cigarillos, looking for another kick
We got kicked out of the missile nation and ended up on the radar of meritorious icicles
We smoked up the clock latching on the count of tacit reason
Blessed by reason and cursed by ignorance, wandering the blue skies in wedlock

Complacent about our pallor with weighed shoulders
Transparent about our complaints of penury, livid about promised lands
Arid vicissitudes pilfering bandits casting and ostracized folk-rock
Pallid coffers in the kiosk hanging out in teddy bear streets mourning the death of drugs
Stentorian blogging along with the fustilug with crushing self-doubt in the war on welcoming namesake
Transparently opaque about my doubts in my angry fix putting me to repose, bit by bit
War is peace

Lintels and truth
Hotels juxtaposed in the syncopated flickering
Mobile hotels finding their meaning in a portmanteau
Laissez-faire calls for a reaction
Combing through the spring temperament, and passionate loquacity
Counting my words when talking about trash in fashion
Spend on the passing fashion and fester a little ****** peace and penned-letters of good grief from breathless representatives
Hanging from the balance of thought and action, clinging to crippling doubt

The crazy thing about love is the journey is the pilgrimage
In the end, there is a marriage that I don't wanna stay in
By the time we understand love, the crosses have become longer
Like stars winking at each other kinda cross-eyed
And the marriages become shorter, and good luck is gone in crucibles
Weren't we younger, with the raucous youthful silence looks absurd
Clause and far away ideals, all written in the recorded book of timeless riffs
Creases of grassy lights and trees hang like winging towns in this transitory town that moves to-and-fro
Impotent I feel in this imperfection, everything seems perfect
You completed me at aphrodisiac and took my power for greedily granted festering wars
Feeding the Chordata of moloch, genome hanging like graceless grades of the college dropout from faceless despair of learning biology
Becoming a named politician following the murmur of rosy beads and green grass, ****** out on a frenzied Friday good for another year

Protected and recyclable, like life enrapturing us in murmurs when it If I'm being sorry and being silent, maybe I'm conscious of my yearning
Risk of being a bad influence, the insurrection of goodness is that velleity towards life evaporating
Without arrogance, honesty lives and learning are passionately making out the life out to a mothball of obdurate in duress

The closer winter comes
It becomes a little colder
It's kind of poetic because of the wait that never runs cold
Winter comes, I hope the road is open to growing old

{\ _ /}
( • - • )
~\   /~
  ~ ~- -
Believe what you see,
Imagine what you think,
See-through anything,
Bless your neighbor and good comes to those who hail the truth
Try living with a peaceful mind and you'll understand what I mean

Imagine a world with love
Now imagine it with peace
Did you really think we were at war with ourselves?

I am a man
I want the world
I am a man
I want the riches
I am a man, after all

I want the knowledge of Earth
Without the riches of a world, I am without women
I want the knowledge of habitat and enrichment

But, I'm poor because of my intellect that has no goddess
For that, I need a woman

Coast to coast
The more you come to town tasting of a strange brew
You leave the train station in downtown Arkansas, dreamin' of America
The more you can fiend your way alone, friends to toast with
Moksha attained, I'm going off to Mars looking for enlightenment
My space is booked and the coast looks like a sea seldom touched
Kinda like blue midnight in Martian space, riding in a summer car
Shining lady fickle
Makes a good pickle
I want a taste of your sickly sour
Coal from the coast, take my life on your jungle groove
In heeps of trolley's, trollops in the shiny diamond cars
Diamond shining in the hustled season, unknowing of what's charging past marching mayflowers
Today's dills in summer taken in chrome horses hanging out in grander pernicious places, we could steal and thieve from petty complaisant men

If you cut hair
Make sure you sweep before you go too
And cut other's before the beat

The ruminations of a horse
Cry like a stallion
Ride like the wind, and run out into the wild

A sheep herd burned in the road, monotonous sibilant calls
House in the dirt, coal eyes felt no pain with the fire of inner visions
He shrieked in descending flames, yelling in his religious abode
Crowned boldly without reprieve for his drunken soul
God, why have you forsaken me
Ad lama sabachtani crying on Everest megalithic of lithe souls burning
Have you got a moment to hear a match-lit forlorn rag, these words burn me in my throat
In the form of quasi-knowledge, I can still hear the shrieks of madness
Moloch, Moloch, Moloch and neon traffic lights shine across the square
I'm at the crossroads of my winding life searching for truth
Speaking about conformism while understanding the crushing penury
Leek, green grass, that's all these sheep can eat
The foggy scene killing my joy frescoed in her mind without wheatish flax seed
There were no seeds to sow, the land was fertile and we could sit for another folly time in this sold-out show
Watch the thunder die with the snow as the student takes Thunderdome

The lively crowd loves us too much indeed
The lovely performer looks us in the eye leer in his meritorious sigh
We could handle our anticipated warning, hurling art across spectral glances of supernatural volunteers
These people would rather sleep than be ghosts in the party
Simply singing, confetti communist architecture, we are all glad Karl
Like kids, we belong to this doltish crowd full of hope and greed
Our dreams protect us in these urchin-laden streetlamps, many of them holding the paper eating their senses
I am me, you are youthful tides
You are in the spring of your pubescence
Judge Gideon sings to us our verdict, laying faith in the party

Wearing down the torture and the welcomes of loved ones
Frowning and smiling glibly wasting across the desert sun
Glued to the **** and *****, it's torture to have been happy-go-lucky

I'm talking fuzzy in a freight train of thought
I'm in the hood holders and boxcars, some of them keep passes
I'm locuting about the things we were, within the neighborhood
Part of these merry conversations, I look at my ears
From outside, I might be drunk
Not yet, as long as it's nighttime and nightcap time
The next day waits for me to leave life in the tide of indelible relief
My legacy in a catchphrase mucous membrane of delightful freedom
Crap and fuliginous Fugazi's, a part of belonging to the real things
I wondered a bit in vain and people lurk across the legacy steel
Tumescent buildings towering the moon, ebbing against the Sun and red herring crossed the desert

I'm surrounded by words and saw the demise of God's meaning
Inane cases of Sunday afternoon
These are how my worlds are
I walk into spirits of a material living
I'm unsure whether I'm free from these words or the necessities of begging
I feel lamentable and slide right into my depressiveness
Oppress the oppressor, the ringing bell of ****** progress
I haven't finished my pills, either way, being near the whanging streets in limerick streets
Forlorn and fraught with medication and the lack of a noisome drug that has no surmise
Emetics accompany the frequent visits to the blue halls of hallucination, confusing and bright
Read Harriet stone, and bleached winter ****** on nature's haze
When will the sky clear and when I see the light?
I know it's you I'm looking at all this time, I'm a child of a lost spirit
It dwells on me like a blue moon that barely ever comes

A moon hovers us, like a friend
The moon pulls us a bit to close, asking us to fly kites
There was once a time when well-lit streetlights held the light of prostitution and deafening gun chase
We controlled the deranged inveterates, even accused the government and the thrills of the chemicals
But, we never came back from that, now, I cannot hold myself with veracity or cheap freewill
I hope it ends wilting freely, ****** on the west side near the waters
Love waits
On the ****** on the west end, disguised in a leader's meandering gait

Cooking up apologies
Recipe for disasters
Verbal diarrhea lashing out in pederasty
Many hearts lived
When learned love required hiding your naked tail between your legs

When we travel
We leave our troubles behind
And our anticipation on our mind, and elation up ahead

If I can respect you like I love ideas
I can conceptualize my defeat
And call it a concept that converses with inner passion
And pain is just a bough of cheap existence expensive as the taste of hashish
Perhaps we could certainly make do with merit and the Ides
Come to doorstep, march on my life and knock on door
Call me up fool from a brass phone booth, matrices
Trapped in the smoked police building we were unwary of the transient redness
Of her eyes brimming with such satisfaction, the many of the few features
All of my love in multitudes, my thoughts become a bit more than I can chew
Many for the few loveless ones

I was avoiding
The skydivers in town
The parade fell like chutes in steel moon, tanks never passed the *****

If you wear shoes that look
Like you
Just do it, it’s not impossible to justify the circumstances of wanting
It’s harder being needy and looking like you own nothing
Like you own nothing, we are all a mere second in an hour of perfect time
Well men and glassy eyes among strangers in pirated documentaries
Digital dreamer, follow this path of giving
God has given me this world, and that will do the rest
This is the entire living in one second of ephemeral time meant for us
The hours turned cold and time flew
You kept running
Like you, I am lewd too, and I can’t run

A bought a peach dripping from serendipity
A stolen apple from beggars dreams
A bough of flowers from the nearest bouquets
A couplet of children followed me, driving me bananas
Popular with them, I made haste with the bread and wine from the supermarket in downtown annals of stated streets
All of them were documented like the underground denizens of the supercilious looking for a summer promiscuity and bacchanal

You hold hair
Gracefully, educating
My promise to be positive too, hugging my head

The way you cry
O’er the leaking roof
Under the stars, holding water

The way you cry
Over your bread
Recess of people make the time out of selling it by the wheat

The marijuana can **** a bit of pain
I don’t know how, I just never hoped
It would be so soon that it weeded out my mead, kneeded with *******

A dream of little sunshine on your street
I pressed my cheek to you demurred
Joyous that we had divided the new order and found God lurking in the corners of godless streets

Sweet flower
I’m so blue
I’m going out and about on the two stories
Pressure me into forgiveness, and take the wilting love
And fill me with your serene life, and deliver me too

My heart cries for the crumble pie
Make me a piece of crumbled lines
All I need is day of break from work and reading
Let’s talk about the right rain, and be wrong as the clouds hiding my lifeless eyes in gliding through to you

Passed partied lucky
Big and my best day
Blushed the blue heart, and turned red like the dusky sky

I heard you spanking someone
Deem them a part of my planned dream, uncouth
That has some semblance of girlish ways, painting mascara with names
Do real people even strike us of reality or having lack of it
I have some good stories, with a queen of hearts as the bookmark

The book never finishes and the story never stopped at the payment of Marxist pamphlet, culled and swiped our cars
For cold cold cash and charming cargos across Constantinopole
Filing countdowns and driving out immigrant countdowns working the clock like laissez faire capitalist
War is the coolest drug for the mad hatter
He would not seek hell after that

Read your eyes
Haven’t learned how to remember
Your glance of artful proportions, dearthly looking after me

Forgive my glance in the east
The sun rises in the north when I’m on the west of east
Everything’s gone south, I should be back at home looking at the pole star from the south
I am back at the eastern seaside, running coast to coast

Liven joy as if it isn’t
As of now the joy is real
Looking for it some in an ounce of vivacious motherhood
That ******* left the phone
Coffee in the train, tea out of the surfboard returning on bossa nova
Born in the art noveau made a black magic woman, out of heads
Beads in the ruthless response, like the sensory second made of stern stuff
Kick me in the ground, the wars in the battleground, kick me into the sentoryou
I want out now, I’ll be determined now
Sorry papa

Anything want
Does
That’s the way you need to do, leave the platitudes

Down the underwater
Take the bubbles
Break em up, **** the lime acerbic wit killjoy
Facetiously pushing out the service asking for a hitch back home
Cuddling up to the trunks of the elephant of the room
Bedlock with dread of the meandering truck loving peach luck
Peachy eyed, kimono geisha fire me up and entertain men
Thematic schemes, all part of your plan
Party in the USA, rock with your ***** in Russia
Freeze to death in sugary rush of ***** and virgins, dishevel the exceptional man
Blizzard steam cuprous culture praise the lizard king, fly out of the pressings quickly
Pen down your life
I’d have ideas for you
Make songs for you
The pieces make sense, if you put the jigsaw puzzle together again

You’re stuck in the middle

Paint and anoint all the colors
Bleed into one
Color my face into anyone, like a nosegay
If I love, it is because of you

Carolyn the running cockamie scheme artist
Solipsisms of many states of mind, amond the Carolina chicks creasing
Her hair with the railing house on two wheels, ******* out at the dream
Take my heart touch my word in the valleys
Come to me int the video of California and fornication of *****
Graphs of the blue freedom in freeform China girls and diamond underwear for Liberace
Love this race and rain down on my period of prison deeper
Deeper than the veins that had a voice and now drowned in the dregs of pulmonary drugs
Criminate and Fred astute as always, stepping into the dancing stage of starlight many states responded to the report
Meteors sighted in the iceberg, shooting stars cut out of the gradients of crashing sights anyone would see it
Deepening with many, strangle love strangling few surrealists staunch and gaunt
Like Picasso’s restrictive operatic art, singing the boxer
Rolling the ounces, counting the punches, taking it in his stares
Exercised in the truncheon things called trunks on this rhapsodic love
Cusp of time exonerated my thorny humor, I didn’t deserve a heartbeat that skipped like a stuck tapedeck
We got Japan on ice on record, drugged the secret service
Remanded the weapons of reclusive people perishing silently

The cries are on the lips of the rumble falling from the sky, thunderstorms delight

We are actually in third dimension
Finding out fourth dimension physics
With second-dimensional progress, linear progress

Flesh of a lonely man
Needs make up
Wreaths on this list coming

Crossing out and ticking the boxes
We’re still holding the dust of souls
And ashen glances look like desultory glances

****** on the nursed streets
The streetlit howling winds can fly out of educated lives
We are only left educated minds changing their ways and stealing cigarettes

Feigining for the father figure
I hope we have had a good time
The night’s brighter with the vivid growth of the undernelly

Knell bells tolling, killing the bleeding
Sojourn the dress, and adjourn th court
Red crimson tresses sense the mallet of sentences marking forever

Those worst worshipping travelers of trafficking
Altruist, my forefathers are looking at us like it’s now or never
The darkeness is inevitable, but, the tunnel runs out with indomitable spirit stealing glances from the Gods of religions so decrepit
I had my luck in my pocket from these corrupt politicians, and reiterated that I’d run and reign and then run
Like the apoplectic season of the monsoons, teaming up either way

Running on empty fuel
Running on empty time
Fuel gone all the time

Running man
Marathon criminal
Sun’s down and the justice for all

Take a free taste
Shock the senses
A clip of trees to stop the falling and running

We are running on violence
Silence comes when everyone is peaceful
Bruised hearts fly like convocated fighters finding solace

Fire of the day
Step into the starlight
Running on empty skies, sun and moons sharing the light of the old

The museum call for people
And the extinct relics remind me
Falling in meditated love and religious respect
Sacrosanct people are extinct
Like the blessings of good thoughts
We are in a museum of dinosaurs and understanding people

Some friends
Some folks
Cuddle up to my kisses
Desires for thighs just okay
Heights of colder man make my home
Warmer men make my bed
Lower men can ease my mind
Cashing on my interests and coursing through my puddles of love

Cry your tears
With the silent sayings
Of fortified silence, and challenge them with poetry
Make your sadness your own

Grow the fruits of your labor
Make the most of simple fruits
Seeded and blue, are the moon and sky
Like tears in the sun