This is not poetry
This simply spoken on earthen tombs
Or was it tomes
Or was that tunes
If it was then it wasn't
Because the past is the future and the present is but a thinned out pancake of a reality
Double bongo tulip termination
Implied with the finger-ly pleasure
Upon my love's blackened buttons
Drunkenness sensibility declining reeling sealing the post-operative convolution of Tarzan's missing breath
Target, TARGET, (target)
Reckless love leapin' side' a train-station tumor

Inspired by The Mars Volta
Encased in, tubular, too much too fast, written again with music in the background!
Screams now or be they babies?  Here it's more with talking, psychedelic naturally!
Complete the creativity contract stingy stars stealin' popcorn RIPS, and I can feel it coming to me.  Groaning, rhyming with the rather outer despite the order AND GO! Build up, build up who wants a build up? Pause.
Groove to me my Ukraine tartar! Make no sense, make it so hard you can't understand where it or was she GOING, go, go, go! Membrane skin saturate thy kin with separating spin so I can't ******' breathe! Correct my sins or be you scared to talk to pins though they your friends. The tack is in to lift paper from she and she can't see.  Are you a man or a mouse or anthropomorphic spouse of any of these fleeing an-i-mals?!  I find in the mirror myself and beer to drown the pain or discomforting disdain I can't quite get it right anymore therefore goodbye all truly universally bleeding.  I say goodbye to my past and won't come to grip with it!  GRIP your children's ears but it is you who doesn't want to hear.  You cover their eyes because of the size of daybreak rise!  Rise to the occasional borderline street sign between

Inspired by Tool
I will explode into the stars, become all of them, but all in sparkle of another's eye
I can't rip this mind any further, or else it'll break and snap and slow-mo crack
May, may, may, may you starve, breathe, sink, rise, steep, leap, creep into my parallel like a feeling
Demented in this way due to you, the closest I'll ever get
Five years, apparently not enough to forget
Five years, without you
Five years, and you still break into my dreams
Five years

Eyesight twisted
Finger's touching fingers through the pen or keyboard
And ears falling out of my ears like a woman whose songs have long been
Tearing me to pieces wherever I like to be felt
Too literally no
Too many thoughts cloggin' up this massive tremor of a hemorrhage
Waves to listen to like a bad man
YOU'RE A BAD MAN

Must you be here in such an interesting illusion?
Why must you sit in such... vogue?
Here though, you exist in fashionable cyst.
Bygone futures of blighted sutures
Youngster-stale and eight-hundred pale
Destitute pasts of layer passes present
Horses gather at the gates of heaven
Spitting at me
And in this way, I've given myself nightmarish feelings.
Yellow blocks provides battery-colored translucence a doubt of mortals
Tungsten belated harmony

Opportunity or opposing unity to unify and untie
*****'s lesion sipping each seasonal reason for loving your flowing hair and knowing care

Strike the stench and light the match and throw open the hatch jump inside along with furry-toad-love
*** and lust and the vex of the ****** of what is on the television gone up and through and something grew inside my skull where IT is thus, null
And I speak of course off course because of this coarse curse of your love
Flinching finch-pinch-tense, since she's, hence, a personal goddess
I'm a man of fetus-like love of birth and woman-girth

I like my girls to be bigger
Though perhaps for a less redeemable reason

I am the humanoid-elemental-embodiment of low self-confidence
And most are out of my "league" (at least physically and aesthetically)

I've got yelling, dancing, and partying gremlins inside of me next to you
They and you are good friends who flew the same coop in the same town called "Brown"
And you travel
Forever
Among the stars and the same stars' starlit bars
(Lit additionally by cars' glowing (picture-perfect) flowing headlights - growing ever-closer until all you see is the bright-side of the brightest white slighting the night's slightest, however plentiful they may be, "maybe" sins)
While yelling, dancing, and partying inside of me
Next to them

Creatures called "sores" hover at lightning speed across the grey earth, hence, ere is the apocalypse's eve.
Just as it always is, and the future attains enlightened poisoning which eats slowly at its being and existence.

Feelings, misplaced
Confidence, misplaced
Balance, misplaced
Senses, scattered and blown by opaque wind into small tornadoes which settle and hide in the corners and crannies of my skull

The fascinate-opal is shining above the impossible-springs where blue vegetation is next to molten rainbow cascading through, over, under, and beside digital holograms of people.
Illusory picnic in the chapel-a hollowed sheet of milk

Synonym eternity
Eternally infinite
Infinitely endless
Endlessly continuous
Continuously I search
The speck's speck
Continuously I search
The greater macro
Continuously I die
And fall into forever
Where Lucifer sits
Where he points his everlasting-million-fingered-fingers at me
I'm next
Yet I will never be
I'm him
Yet I always am two
I'm nothing
Yet I am
Scary thought, scary music, strange conclusions, strange delusions, stranger still is where I am because my tools have gone missing.
I am surrounded black and the black's surrounded by pink, and the pink's surrounded by pale, and the pale's surrounded by what else, but hair of course!
I feel my pet crawling between my brain and scalp with his tiny feet firmly on the latter so to give you an idea he is upside down on the inside of me

Hawk winged devil
Full of tension
About to tear
With tears of hatred
About to listen
With twenty-thousand ears
About to burst
With infinitely single energy
With eternally green sky
With epilogue analog (I had to look up the meanings of both of those words)
Variable similarity connects with my contradicting parallel-like soul-mind fight
Match the material and move!
Search and revive
Heal and derive
From absence of hive
In abscess I dive
Or compound I create
OR COMPOUND I CREATE!

Color, she dislike me
Absence, common thought
Grotesque, always
Rotting stench and dirt are friends

And in a new way I'm collapsing again, reciprocally
Forever
I'm passed that all though (though dem' thoughts always be wit' meh)
It's no more (though, still)

And now the keyboard takes over! HIT each STROKE with PASS-I-ON!
Now my fingers no longer belong to me! LINK finger and mind (without anything else)
Now my mind no longer is in existence! I'm one with these words! (quotation contraceptive)
Now truth is here to tell it's lies to destiny and me

End

The Steel Eight
Fight for him
I am him
And they aren't
And I can't
And they will
And I can
Fortitude brisk is unimportant
Much like messy-brain-muscle's curvy few
I've lost my soul
I am coal

And why then, should I not?  I am not below most and if nothing else am equal to many here with relevancy to being philosophical while writing poetry.  The two may be related and maybe it's just personal preference that I try to separate these but it's not without reason or logic.
To write philosophically shouldn't there be few guidelines?  Shouldn't thought and inquisitiveness be themselves and without metaphor and emotion?
To write poetically, isn't it more about feeling, grace, and beauty without questioning these?
I understand things change and definitions separate, disperse, die, and are born which is why I'm going to say that the two ideas of contemplation and beauty are inextricable to a certain extent and I'm open their junction.
In the end maybe I'm split on this.
Maybe it's contradictory.
Maybe I'm wrong and it's due to past circumstances that're relatable only to myself.

Despite the right to spite the far away
Of only what I know is nothing as a word
Only what I know is everything as a meaning
******* **** in this early morn
******* love of that metal music

ENOUGH OF THIS (will make you crazy)
Heterosinea contractual echinacea of aviary actual sack attack
ATTACKING SACK INSIDE A RACK O' FLACK
FLACK BOMbardment of horse willed ensnarement
Wiley wicker writhing in illness

Loose found youtube through fool rude nudes
Useful contraptions trap attraction for creative adoration and many more "things"

Precipice mountain fondled the fond of fondling fountain spouting love-crusssst.

I bob this bobble-headed dead-set-on-deafening those who will or would but cannot and could not stop my pupil-dark-mind-lark sent out and over that previously spoken-of precipice of a mountain so that, and, hereby, I fly continuously into space-spacey places of radiating-planetary-beauty yet you try with futility to reach me so you never will, I am above you.

I win.

Long youth is apparent in my crushing stars
I see those... stars
I want them, crushed
I want myself back
I am shattered
I can't focus
My thoughts are dust
My brain is cracked crust

They must not see me
For I am invisible
I must not see them
For I am invisible
I can't appear
I, an apparition, gone
Yet still there, hiding

Circling encompass my horn
With halo
I am heavenly rhino
I am gold and encrusted with sapphires
Diamond feet neath' me
And many zebras, around

Crutches and caskets filled with coffins filled with crosses filled with crushing expectations

You are here now though I remember
You're in my dreams because you're my dream-girl

Blackness coming through the bright coming through ballooned faces coming through crowds who'd have it that angels come down and drag them into the sky

Now I'm without you though our fingers touch
I'll be someone new with someone new

No more love poems
For nothing else
Than the sake of intelligence
No more
Because you refuse to think
I've heard it all before
I want something new
Interesting, at least
I want something different
******* and this steel mind
Away, into the universe's bliss

To relevant beings
Know, experience, and be
Hell, Limbo, and Heaven
Be nothing and everything and forget time
I want to see you crying
Falling down the hole
Experiencing all
In an abyss of grey, dark, and brightness

Be witness to yourself as Lucifer
And God
And the truest of insanity's delight
Ignorance, insanity, and intelligence all correlate
As an order to follow, or not
1. Complete-ignorance-bliss
2. Intellect-learn-inferno
3. Truthful-insanity-happiness

Along with affliction
Along with infection
Along with affection
AND MANY MORE UN-RHYMES
She speaks like Mother Earth paranoia
And whispers like drunken *******
Frill and forgetfulness and thrill and fullness
Decorate or mightn't you know how between the doors solidified
Trapped into the garden of fire and lava
I need not
I need not
I need not

Organize phase altitude decrease
Open this chest of greasy bowels
BEGIN TRANSITION!
Or fit through the acronym of anonymous anthology ridden lock
I am perfect
I am perfect
I am perfect
I am perfect

Now, now, now, now, now, now, now!
Terrible!
You can do better
You can always do better
Yet always can't never
Suckin' on a sliver in the tool-shed-deluxe, AND I've GROWN depressed again
Sept' NOT cause' I tend to tenderize dem' words!  Badly written, this mind un-fittin' for deez words I'm sittin'! Red marks, red marks n' squiggle 'neath my stupid words a lot like me and my arms n' body!  I am incorrectly myself far too often to see truly true pieces beyond the sky's fragility be she man nor woman yet the classically pronounced hermaphrodit-E!  I stink and smell like rotting hell except worse due to too many twos or were they duos throwing in the towel... foul.
I am
I
Am
The walking stench of literal intention and the walking stench of the hands of death (clench).
Broken staff is my forgotten word thus I AM ZERO-MARK
Not the nor a or an, but and is to I am as a universe as a point of hallucination

Whence the red fox doth heave itself, taking flight via muscular thighs, through gates of fire it will be that blurry human figures shall be waiting beyond in slow motion while the fox jump-runs, multiplying infinitely into a gradient gray and into a branch-pattern (lightning), past them.

The fox is running and is only running and has run and will run, forever, past all.

Past time and space and reality, past you and me and our dreams and nightmares, forever running.

Then what
Of beautiful technology
And isn't that how it always goes
That something is "fad"-ified
Constantly and dies electronic death
As a burst
Numbers all over

Even me
And the popularity of my words
Short lived
Typical
And why
Why should I go somewhere else?

Like a slipping moment into eternal obscurity and forgotten
Like a Myspace account never to be revisited
Like all of those accounts I've made

How many more of them I wonder, things lost to to inevitability and eventually all
Why must I be lost to a page of history that'll never exist
This is why I question my existence, this is why I see myself how I do
This is why I write so hard
This is why I continue to fight a fight that's not there

I will be remembered
Then forgotten
Forever

Touch my universe
Touch my reality
My reality's a bubble
Pop it
Touch my everything
Touch my nothing
They're viscous
Swirl them

I want you to throw me to the fires of digital
I want you to kick me into a hole of downloads
I want you to punch me with a fist, full of beautiful status updates
I want your numbers to fall on my chest from fifteen-hundred miles away
I want computer components to crush my legs

Hacking husk ***** tusks
Tongue-twist terror-mist
Let them cry out!
They be lengthy roads, dem' tools
Horror fascination fascinating faucets
Lucky crutch ******* CLUTCH!
Limp and hobble through corridor-cobble
Hear the listening fly?
Hear the glistening try?
Watch the bright
Go bright

Can you see through my insane
I can't relax
And so I've chosen to be hyper
I can't be comfortable
So I burn comfort

The bellow is a random personal explanation of what I typically write.
Less than poetry, this might be more told than expressed with metaphor or symbolism.  My writing is in some ways an extension of myself, I would however love to believe that that's where any parallels could be drawn between my art and others because, at a level, I'm attempting to create something innovative yet ugly.  I should mention also, that often there is philosophical depth in many (and if not many than at least a few) of my pieces which if absent completely, is replaced with an abstract idea of beauty fighting with ugliness or ugliness fighting with beauty.

The difference is me
I am forever
I am never
I am a paradox
I am infinite
I am not
I am
Thus you can't
Thus you won't
Thus you will
Thus you aren't
AND I AM KING HERE
AND SHE WILL NEVER BE MY (queen)
Sour-sided-denotation
Keep quiet and maybe I'll let you go
Scratchin' till' ya' BLEED
Salmon tasted like lips of Lucifer
Lucifer growl
Show yer' teeth
Let em' know
My name is yours
Your name is mine
Universal federation of lack-luster-star-clusters
FREAK
I AM A FREAK
All of you freaks, geeks, ****-ups, n', poets
All of you nasty-anti-good-doin'-thieves, n, troublemakers
All of you down-to-earth-yet-out- of-this-world-semi-psuedo-sacrilegious-punks
I call to you to know me

Underneath a loathing sky
Angry at me
Destroy me with your wind
And hail on my brain
Puncture my thoughts
To let my seeds burst through
The soil of my nullified skull

Cocked back eye
Filled blank pupils
Uncolored moon irises

The beauty of intelligence
Trumps the beauty of

Let it make you crazy
Let life's little lessons grow you more insane
Let those who are, make you laugh
Let them decipher your mind
Let this whole ideology compare
Let the contradictions bloom
Let these thoughts get out of control
Let learning turn you inside out
Let what you see seep into you
Let skin brush against nothing
Let nakedness be
Let me know
Let knowing be unbeknownst
Let words solve nothing
Let fighting crush itself
Let nothing be there
Let itself break the fort
Let walls sink into your brain
Let it make you crazy

Something forgotten
Universe unfurls
Reality cures
Reality curls
Round' my mind
Written in other languages
Of alternate insanity
Of these altered states of muddied clouded thought
Of you
Of you
Of you
Then everything exploded and I don't know but
NEITHER DO YOU!
I was there along with those demons to some
God's to others
I am the dirt you walk on and you feel me
Neath'
Your
FEET
Hole-Punch
Artigasms!
Anti-and-see-me-buckle-­straight-for-the-moon-spider
Anti-spider
Understanding and fearfully attentive
Neck separate from body
Body to the left
Neck to the right

Be it
For it is
It is not
Getting's been got
And a poet's folding hand is torn loose from love, keyboard
Though I am grotesque looking I now flatter it's self
AND I'VE BORN A TUNGSTEN LADY!
AND I'M NOW A LUNG N' HADES!
Open up, steep the tea, swoop down, eat the fee
I am lucky enough to see
I am lucky enough to see
I am lucky enough to see

This was written while I was listening to Horse The Band

Rip n' cut n' though the gut GOES THE KNIFE
Lovely suds in the blood
Of course I am talking about my mind
Torn to pieces
But that is oh so common
Torn to pieces
Be you insane? I think otherwise
Be you insane? I think otherwise
Are you weird, surely you're not
When you say so I say you're so dumb
Of course I've been called weird but I prefer to refer to myself as strange
Unusual in my interests at times or what leads to what
Ere the di un
SPLIT!
Add to category number-twenty
Never mind the numbers and math
YOU ARE A WRITE-R
Synthesizer star saturates the bar with MILKY love
Beautiful scream of hate is therefore silent
ZERO MARK
Leave this unhindered by sentimentality and null feeling seal the reeling sta-sta-stutter into the vast!
Rouge rogue go southward toward the boardwalk crutch hallowed by APOCALYPSE!
Southern mess of strangulation stress stuffing the throat with dairy-wine
Bleep bloop beep slop soup ****
Peeling the head said me or was that an alternate personality?
Can't remember now what was said between us as people or dream

Cast into the glass
Sharpened tight
Make me torn
Brought back from Heaven
And what makes this good
Repetition Repetition Repetition
Spell-check
Marker scents and elephants
Porridge and the crumbs of Lucifer
Along with types of archetypes of subtitle psyches
Lucifer proud, go away oh you sinners and saints
Too many tools of thoroughly-bred rules
Glass

NEEDLE!  Through the middle of a razor-edge!  Face in face out face sin face spout!  I cannot see through the masochism of honesty, corrupt the faucet and leak and drain into a towel of wet PAIN!  Holes rid themselves of fantastic-type dust! (And on the cusp of agony's grateful constitution hereby is a sitar scimitar). Unwilling to grow old into throats of bold and I am here today so what does it matter?  Cough n' clap n' clasp n' rappin' sapping my soul's voidy tounguester. Have I become throats?  Or abomination ropes?  Tungsten blow-hole deep neath the depths of water-disgust!  Rapture came along with whipping writhing throngs of toothpaste convolution tongs pulling out the wrongs and wrong doings of King Kong's rightful songs.  Randomize architecture so that a building can grow from blue dirt into the sky and spread at the top and cover the entire planet of the human-beings where there'll be forever-shade shading shaded, faded, blue.  Tuesday is a monkey banana bonanza bizarre bizarre scarring n' scaring little toothpick carrying caring creatures faring their merry way past curds and whey fields.  Acclimate to constipate and betroth-berate irritate-type tube tape.  Youthful castor plaster made from youngster disaster number: one.

Bouncing round' a mindless institution for the righteously sane
Play it loud
Play that **** n' blow them speakers
Explosions surround my insides with cartoon missiles and true artistry
Frame rate, corrupt
Wishful testimonial contracting embalming with a side of hot vinegar
You must not be here at this particular century
You must be here at this particular void
Touch the fire
Lick the tongue of ash-grown slash-sown fash-i-own
Whether you weather the feather or whittle a little or blow the flow it doesn't matter because I don't know
Slide the note over the note noting that the tote is on his merry way to fairy day
I scratch my neck off and pull head into the lower half of my extra escaping toe
Where am I
Where am I
Where am I

With nary a thought to pose or process
With scary, a way of thinking
I am someone, or the type who, tends to do certain things in a certain way
But what is it worth if it does not read well?
Or to call someone who sounds like yourself and the ensuing contrast of awkwardness
**** n' ****, luck or gettin' lucky in any way colloquial terms for coitus or *** in general, I've none which is not to say I've not in the past or won't in the future but right now there is no significant two-way companionship which I really do want for a variety of reasons to be.
To simply, with cliche, be.
No such comfort will exist in my life for longer than a comparably short while, it would seem.  Nope, no happiness for me, only discomfort, depression, and stress.
No such great is a thing as a two-person love and experience.
And I am alone, truly.
And I am alone, more truly than my peers or fellow poets or parents or family or any other being sharing a universal genus or scientific similarity.
You know nothing of insanity so stop spouting and spewing this beautiful word and defaming and relegating it to a common "lol" or emoticon or any other thing that is obviously below it.
Standard crusted creation of melting erasure dissolving dissipation and dead-eyed cuffing stuffs stuffing still with tough metal roughs of through-bred thoroughly fed fattened and read something a little like this - DISGUSTING MUSK-SCENTED RUSTING HORMONE RIDDEN DERISION OF A TEENAGE HUMAN ****.
Operated in an operation inside of an operation on a mechani-borg.

Suffer me quick
I am sick
Out of mind
Be so kind
And down here
I stare fear
Straight through to
Eternal and undo
My belated opposite

And so
I decide
To forego
The regular

I decide that
I'll do this
Instead of that
And that

Most simply
It is not
For me

And on the brink of everything
I can see the startling drop
A lit edge surrounded by darkness
Darkness before but so much more after
I am at the edge and I can see it at my feet
About to fall once again
Into my head

Now riptide tear aside the marriage of lust and bust the crust
Lyrics and cat kicks and acknowledgement starry sticks sticking me in my brain outward bolts of lightning
Get through, break new, into two, flu-idly, without precision or corrupt incision or a terrible decision
Every new line, teach me asunder with otherworldly wordy blunder
Drum-drop-gum-pops scepter purple contract smash into the flash
Smash the flash and raze the crash and save the rash with boil which I am spawned from, stink
I am the **** eatin'-lady pleasin'-love feastin' GOLEM!
I've grown fat and disgusting with enough inner abasement to grow old with!
Surely there is not a single piece of self-confidence left inside

Coffee buzz is dyin'

Thursday crushes my gold
My gold flattens out, at first paper thin
First paper thin, then immediately invisible
Immediately invisible, but after, she has growth
She has growth that itself grows, in an exponential way
In an exponential way into infinite-small
Into the throughout and ethereal pig sty, combinahybrae
The pig sty tells me to charge green with second-degree maturation

Therefore my left eyebrow is heavenly and my right, flash-shoots by earthen core  into opposite space.
My eyelids reveal paper and these eyelids, still tight and rubbery, stretch over what some might call my infernal youth.

Technology fraught with rot

Let technology terrorize the terrible illogical ideologically daft and shallow whose facts are fallible and beyond logical rabble. And it does, to me, induce reality rattle.

True rhymes are for ******* who want stitches or who'd rather itch neath' ******, in pain, teeth which retain and spew the words of inane... times two.

Go to the man tell em' you can
Through the sand of the desert-brain
Melt around thy skull, hair
Burn burn burn burn burn burn burn burn burn burn ******* BURN
Feel the keys beneath your feet-hands
Walk with him long' the beach full of GLASS
These keys are glass
These keys are glass
These keys are glass
Gimme' that six-string-shooter
So that I can bring together my thoughts to unionize and bring a coup upon myself
OR-GAN-IZE

****! Tuesday now! Weekend NO!
Common catchphrase deplete my atmosphere like a swooning sphere BLUE!
About to throw up nonsense!
Don't care how loud this music IS
Must SCREAM talk of beanstalk! ALL CORRECT!

I'll talk like you!
FML LOL *****
(burn)
SHUT THE **** UP
Oh, and I is typically capitalized when used in the way you're going for!
In fact, I can't think of when it's not capitalized when being used in the STUPID way you use it
GET IT RIGHT! I KNOW I SURE DON'T
(but seriously, I'm pretty sure, however informal your intent, it's capitalized.)

PEELING SKIN FROM OUR BONES
AAAHHHHH!!!!
I am inconsequential, you see
I don't matter, you can't see
I'm not here, quite all the way.
Get's me angry, get's me hot, get's me hard, give's me rot

Nothing but writing...
Isolate self
PUSH EM' AWAY
I'm so wrong
It's so bad
I'm incorrect
It's so sad

Particulate disintegrate berate and inflate the absence of sense or packed, harden, racked, garden.
I see clearly when my eyes arise through the atmosphere's tears' arrangement of derangement of eminent containment in hell-house entertainment.
Luck, ****, and **** have in common, many things limited to their convalescence in my head for lack of a better working word.
I can't write right now.

The wackiest debacle of spoof-esque and entirely haphazard manipulation is profound and wholly visible whilst seeing tradition being drowned and beaten oh so violently at the many spindle-thread-thin hands of progress.
Unknown etymologies spring into the air then fall approximately six-feet down and initiate rearward propellers and jets that're (in place of a better single word) one after another, in order to breathe.
And I learn
And I learn
And I learn
I appropriate and accumulate, store and enunciate, words that contemplate at any rate and though this senseless, nonsensical, principle poetry does destroy me by poison or curse or by noisy disperse, I continue to spite and despite my deriding exciting writing for those and they who've no forte or way nor say for both the beauty and ugliness of language and textual perfection.

I am the monster of monsters
I am the one who Lucifer answers to
I am the perfectly imperfect
I am wordless, speechless, and mute

I am your God and your gods
I am nothing before everything
I am everything before nothing
And I am not

You will contribute funds fundamentally to me and my cry
You will forcefully fit into me the contradicting flee from city to city to answers for pity
You are my very own self and individual mass of crowds of millions
But you are null

I love myself
As much as I love you not
I hate myself
More than you ever could

END MY BIRTH
MY EVER-BIRTH
MY SUFFERING GIRTH
MY PINCHED EARTH
And don't forget
And don't forget
And don't forget
FORGET ME
EM TEGROF

I couldn't tell you why
I can't sing these reasons for
I am bad at this
SAVE for the ability to write terrible lyrics
L-O-L means
I left out the meaning of these words to mush them to-geth-er
Be-cause I am lazy
Or was this the reason
Instead they
They could say
That it is because they want to progress and leave tradition behind
Maybe that's not good, maybe there is no reason beside me losing my self, my mind, my love, my soul
Lightning GLOW
GLOW-ing trans-form-ation slow my glow for it is too bright to see anything else!
All of those beings are so ver-y used they can't be USED broken and no more lines, no more poetry, just writing, so keep... going.  Listen... O listen to the music here we go helicopter fire FIRE shoot dem' bullets cause they so fine! Those bullets bring me peace and I am the world so very VAIN so very e-go-tist-ical.  Burn Burn Burn forget the past Burn Burn Burn.  Grow with the nasty, noisy, tasty, pasty, LA-DY.  Piano now
Get your composure and do a-way with it
Bring forth line, posture, and calmness
Calm your tune
The tune gets calm
The sounds gets low
The instruments decrease
And
Ethereal
Is
Here

I've got a another sense
I've had it ever since
I broke my mind, hence
I AM GOD

It allows me
To see
What is actually free
IS NOTHING

Hab-i-tat
De-rail
Un-furl
And flail
In the harsh hot wind

Make the sun into a cone atop a spear
And send to the earth
Into my eyes
And to the back of my skull

Each letter typed with emphasis, aggression, and flowing lyricism!
Dab the towel in soaking wraith and smelly faithful hatred!
Use THE syllable CON-tract for without it we've been doomed
Bring forth the lights and sounds into living-room-reality, FULL OF STARS AND ESCAPEES!
Faster, faster, faster, faster! This is ugly poetry. Bubbling from the nostrils of the seas COMBINE!
Spurting spirit and saline souls and gaping holes all without the inclination or implication of the hereby too cute to put on television!
Rhyme now or allow the furrowing brow to narrow the growl into pinpoint anoint!
Make it stupid and lucid so to push it through the suffering new and deadly few!
Terrible practice of sense un-make ill-conceived fake words aren't my specialty.
OR!
ARE!
THEEEEYYYY!

Quiet now, no sound, just gentle music, jazzy yet ex-peri-mental.
Words in formal lines marching to their next food product.

A-GAAAIIIINNNNNN! I hear the crash of cymbals in my ears and erratic guitar noises and collectively profound inspiration.

Oh, right, where have I gone?

Hot spit
Expectorate
Decisive uselessness
Derail

Letters surrounded by black
Stroke
Colorful absence
Hours

No goal, no ambition
No soul, no ambition
No words, no ambition
No cords, no ambition
Nothing but drunkenness

Typical phrasing of society
Badness

Flash, bring the ugly
Make me beautiful
I am ugly
With an ugly soul
An ugly
Ambition
To help me grow
Into a respectable young man
Who will turn into a bitter old
OLD
OLD
(yet timeless)

Collect tan and bring in the sin to sacrifice to overlord contraption!
Use up all the forest and burn the earth to ash
The longest flash is too short for pulping to take hold and turn her into here
There I am now, too far gone to see the stars as sun
Big void
Pig droid
Annotated and annoyed so SUFFER THE MOON
AND SSSCRRRREEEEAMMMM!
Da-da-da-da listen to the Cr-A-Zy musIC MY FRIENDS!
Long last thou heart through cold and heat alike and melt side' the mire FORE the lieutenant LATE
Bass and soul go together and GROW
One letter away from sold-so-few!
How doth fright and fought be told to TEN-BILLION array of conceptual delight

Does it sound good to you or will it hurt your brain and ears and scar your delicate flesh
Do you enjoy it or does the passion inform you of your recently muddied thought?
I enjoy it thus I am it, and I am it so it goes without saying it is me

Thank you!