Winds wash the roaring sorrow, a blanket of days gone by. I see the hours ahead of me and its overwhelming just like the word eternity. Desire and death, candles melt away, as my flame, it will sway, counting hours, counting days.

Crimson clear, drawing a flower viscous. Dreamt and unkempt rallying with the day, hollows gaurded by infinity whispering to you, nigh and high swatting about with newspaper rolled, passing with everything thing else i know or knew. Never really matter, never even happen the way we thought anyway. Wisdom draws the curtain back, locks up the answers the doors turns back and leaves you to your own device. Magnetic polarization and happiness take sides seriously, and we just keep going along with it all...

Within the body strands worm in helix with the accordingly coded all embeded like the tiles ornate of a chapel. All things follow, all things innate. Mathmatical entropy, the time spent in wait, all subjective illusions bound by time and space. Molecular unions, my atomic configuration pulls magnetic. The body I'm in runs electric. The thoughts runnin' round dance on salts in an ocean too wide, were swimming in stride never to finish crossing to that other side. The one created inside of your mind. Your mind...

I do it because i have nothing else driving me. The pursuit of something unobtainable at least with this limited perceptual borders only traversersed with the ambitious grunt work of satifaction that leaves you panting like a dehydrated stray. The only thing i have that pushes me forward in a frenzy of info-lust lingering day to day. Save it up, spit it out. But why, ah **** why ive settled into who i am and thered no turning back. Ive seen ends as beginning and vice versa realities spinning from the center of humanity out, nautilus nature of all. Mathmatics and mind, and why...

I hear gunshots and siren, envisioning the fear of a city of sidewalk, of a city too far passed the break, drowning. Its a subtle reminder of duality so constantly ******. This is all i can say without schism of mind, listlessly flowing. Do i ignore realities or stand up against. Ill just get ****** i suppose...

Lost in willow draped silence beyond the calculations. drippings melt matter around nodding constructs
up  before my very eyes arrangements take hold and duplicate the protein is needed to forge a copy elements stack thoughts magnetized by unknown combination combating for a mathematical integration rendering the state of obsoletes competing for defeat in timelessness at its finest causation resignation
Computed karma

Its all closing in on me again
A million different portals
A million different sorrows
A million different smiles
A million different sins
Exponentially laughing in spite
Everything rolls along
Aligning in paths
So words to remind you that everything shall pass
Dont hang upon dear hangups
Breathe again alas

You are awake, i am asleep in your pineal run through shuffling thumbs of discourse breaking over the atmosphere.  Channels push the erroneously held dissaray of the speculative. One more and more or less, less is more and more is the ***** of self control, shook by the hand that shook the world from its fantasy haze following the enigmatic resolution to an abando and awe struck as always.

I have been gone man just clawing at the door man as the crowd dispersed from its walls. Deepening the notion of time I now see you as a triskelle dreampt in the waves of a sea. Close your eyes and forget to see come into the light of the cone, now become a point of light as a particle and then transform into its darkness as you're swallowed. Dispersal of matter flowing force from the hallowed and now is then and before came tomorrow I see chaos in those eyes and it's no  hastened suprise as the sunrise never comes to this place outside of conception words ramble on with no discernible flow I fell atop and below and directionless throes amazed not by 9 and this 6 comes in 3.  Pressure reforms you as human in a body or a body of a human the dna will show you where to go, lost yes were lost but is that backward or is it in forward  now seen from its behind, reason is back but I dont feel its mine, it's an endless pony show as the dogs now appear in this world. Seeded by this design raising some flag so it flies as glory faded fast from the temperature that is deadly but doesn't die, transformation inside of transcendence cored out by a wave of pretentious,  fools feel they know and the knowledge fools the foundry where dimensions cut from dimension and your stop is here get out when it stops and take the escalation to 3 your fit with the pin access is granted now pass to your quarter a box in a wall of a million lost now in numbers of human observation. Goodbye before slumber you'll wake up in ages now frozen in times quandary prision....

Spanish music pours in my spring window, just became dark. In and out, reeling.
My senses calculating data in such peculiar ways.
I love it and hate it all simultaneously.
All the contrived notions, all the pretense and vanity, personas gotta load on and talkin that **** again, the children got lost, got old and believed again.
If i didn't laugh id probably just cry.
Its just a flaw in the design, to never be satified, no peace of mind.
To seek forever without knowing the question, fielding through the minutia
If I said I love you, most of that isnt true.

He stopped and waited for the blinking yellow 15 mph "slow for children" sign to turn green.
It was never going to, I figured Id tell him. He said "I know", he didnt. Baked.

I choose to be me
A collective of neurons
Where is my soul now

The reasoning dribbles out in psuedo intellectual cadences falling from and into the blastema
Circumventing the logic that bonds thought and action
I ask why do i feel this way
Lost in transient blissfull tragedy
The willow is antique in the word play
The building and destruction beget begining
So why i ask
Sullen gentel futility reigns in a
Perfect transcendental mockery
The world as we know it shatters with every question that undermines the veil
A symboic statue growing with evety theory of existence
Do you push on do you believr
Do you have faith to comfort you in the darkened caverns of mind
You ask do i possess this or do it possess me
I sit upon this sidewalk
An animal we call mammel bet the truth is we shall never know
The cold air and sounds of a trucker and ill can do is say why
Does he wondet does he have a mind does he think
Or is he a happy idiot awaiting payment for his hours of toil
Nothing makes sense just a glimpse we inherited along the way
Love be thy prision of hope and dream
Ive loved and lost and never do i sigh
Its all a passing stream heading down the river of metaphysical nothing
Could i love again
Is it going to be real
Or again do i pretend
Cest la vie mon cherie

If i got the perception i question the validity of its origin, the realization that the illusory construct before me is a subjective star struck image cast from the dust of delusion, molecules beautiful and mad arranging the bits of existence into something i call life and you call your own. Its never-ending here in the twilight of truth and the light beaming from far off planets obscured and red shifted just laugh at earthly wisdoms cartooned by its bound.

Sufficed to say i will never find what im looking for..

The system is rigged against out poor souls
The tide could swallow us all
The air we breathe the water we drink
The dreams that randomLy appear on the screen of our slumbet
Saturated with the symbolism lost upon awakening the sky became my eyes

Livin that licorice life
Bittersweet little servings
Mostly disgusting

Poetry is an effective tool if the message and its reading bring about action change from the old heat from the cold. When used to gain attention unwarranted as its script is used for tools of ******* it's the exchange rate that makes it valuable and its cost makes circles jerking off in the wake follow me follow you and now were all blue hurt by the world hurt by man  who did not understand you need more then you can give to another, I won't say pathetic but wait I just did maybe another line I shall live now I will be still because thrills are now hollow he ****** off all the day in this way.......

It only means what you want it to mean.
Your filter reduces existential trivialities into palatable persuasion.
Its the feeling youre searching for in the electric pulse hidden in the cavernous home of your mind
One more before i go.
Fleeting as can be.
Foregone be thy womb my friend
Foregone be thy interpreted void...

Clumps of words, ***** and such and the tv is always on. Immune to it all at this point.
You have that new found point of view causing outbursts of 2nd hand **** you just collected.
And the commercials find us fast asleep.

Down to the bottom of a dropped sky past the horizon you'll see a sun. Its burnt and bewiderment cast shadows on the dawn. No light on the fringes of night beatened back into the sight. Roaming the scape of a dream ive had in the past. Ive seen this before how strange to see it again. Interpretations and madness...

Can this one moment just be alive and reeling in the toil of tiny cities and intellectual centers of this thought where its no more mine then it is inside the hearts ever beat banging to the vibe forcing air all around to dispell go back to your momma go back to the womb going back to the place where my life took hold and the days in the summer made me lonely where i saw the center i saw its center i always go back to the center

When q tips become filters and theres a rose colored hue
adrift and sublime in the night. After the gold rush
Lingers a glow that will soon flush
And the binding is strong with its touch
We try to hold on hold on hold on before it goes away, again
Roaming thoughts alongside the roaming American miles
To be paradoxically so ******* lost and found
My pulse likes to elaborate on each moment passing through a gate
And all we will ever have is now
But its on a delay now i don't know if what exactly im seeing
Its all in the past im percieving
But if i close my eyes i can hear a reprise and i just laugh at it all unfolding
Infinite jest haunts the shadows evermore...

Our systems are a farce...

Just keep going if only in spite of a vision you're holding to get through the fleshy hours ahead. Despair comes crumbling your world as its named and fueling the fire of the credence that came from the tinder of spirit and the concept of soul. You live in your sea and swim in yourself watching the waves curl with the frenzy, have you seen it, has it come out of the spirals impending, the spirals through and through. I seen it coalesce eating alone, a woman and child together at large, teaching eachother how to combat the sickness. Motion and emotion the child goes to school learning from others becoming a persona. Building a Tomb for history to be kept under the earth the rest will be swept. The mother and son in this case are not real but behind the veil it leaps out revealed. As a binary orbit in the night as it stands is just an illusion and a good one id say, to be a product of a lie, ill just have to live in spite...

The human condition so fragile, so vain. The monopoly on living the exploitation of pain and all the little things that gather in rain. Finite of words, infinitely held in the structure. And the children will wake with the sun, becoming the rabbit, becoming the run, between the obscure lined up with the pun. I thought that i knew but nothing is known, just a shot in the dark, an equation of all, the numbers expressed as a man on his ball...

Its the top of the morning and in all due time the reasons i corner will dew and resign. The grass is growing but the answers lay in waste. I can see the rotation and the phases of moon but never to know why i am frost in this room. Rhymes fill times as ****** as rust, the things we created technology and trust. I stand at the precipice of all know to date and watch as the human pretend are in solid state. The atomic it blends to molecular bonds as the matrix keeps churning the past and nothing, nothing here lasts...

who would have thought this would be our world... who could have known that we would all be in this subatomic illusion... we stand with our souls aflame never knowing the mirrored veneer... The years are making decades and i sleep to see the dream tonight crept spreading upon my screen but i cant remember in the dawn awake to screaming rays of sun looming its death erases all of man now futility crys a mortal lie of afterlife adorning souls infinite;y inflated spiked with saga induced ideas that lay engorged of a brain inside a shell  flush with the chemical structure inherent like a k plan inlaying bricks to hell and im ending now because im done numbed by the numbers and tumbling aeroerratic forcing the sky to rip the fabric open wide eyes bending rendering statehood complete.........

Im crawling out of my imprisoned fleshy fortune
Ryan adams playing directly to my brain
I constantly ask myself whats the ******* point
I answer myself, the point is the tip of my pen
Stretching out in strange echoes of eternities, so many lives stumbling across the earth with plans, dissipated amongst the heap of existence
The muddy trance that drawls you into yourself for a little meeting
Between the words spoken and the conscience poking through the current of the brain
Distractions and disappointed rhyme
Flooding emotion so ******* lost inside the mill, the dreaming takes hold when there is nothing left
Feeding the creatures that lurk in electricity hollows, caverns
Could have been anything
Could have been you
Im not really sure
Is this me
This is culminating leftovers from bygones
The poles are shifting and so am I
Another wandering with story's to tell
Maybe you have heard it all before so what is left
This is me i suppose
How about you my friends.
Is love the answer

Yes, futility my old shell of justification left upon the sand of a million grains of thought, every speck individual in the moon spun tides taking the nothing back to the shore writhing undertoe be thy bain, ethereal electra existing in a lie lying existential just like Sartre on a beach blanket.

Fuckkkkkkkk im wasting my time on these words again.
Humankind get away retreat with the waves pulse of energy stored in the blades of green green grass when the blossoms swallow the atmosphere and spit out the echo of rain and rain rain rain rain is the sweetest caress coming down from the bell of its ringing...
Sound of infinity and the lungs of vanity chiming in time with the tone of a nation animated with breath... Ohhh saviors are about and none can be without the people who stand in the place of ancestors we come from our kin full of sin but still in line to add spin
Collaped in the dizzy brain of a seeker as his casket closes and the body will be buried with the family grieving and the night comes on with a blank stare and a question for the ages never to be seen by the leftovers
No or yea or maybe or not or the songs or the solace waning while it slowly calls out im alive im alive im alive

I at my end again
The reason that once worked are no longer usefull
When rivers and streams have no meaning
Behind the eyes of a child in the storybook talk of the ages when the time of a soul in midst of a dream never ever.
I waste so much time... The run out and run on
The reasons will never satisfy anyone.
Im sorry that nothing will ever
Be as a drop
It a shift a radical
Be good enough
Humanity thrive by light of the moon and all those dark rooms where beings sat and remember childhood

Sometimes the only information left is in the form of a question. Was that a waste? The by product of existential quandaries gone awry again... The wastefulness of asking oneself about wastefulness is quite possibly the rosetta stone of consciousness but a waste one could argue if feeling up to the part... The tattered ends of ends wrapped around ends... Threads of metaphysical conversations running out of material... Was that a waste....

You think, you speak... you wander, you crave... you search for meaning you search for love. You say you love and hate and maple syrup lables follow the species to the grave... you ask forgiveness you ask for respect you find the ones you know the best. Its all so sad its all so real, its all an illusion cast from the reeling.. ask youself now, why is the atomic nature of thought without any origin we can dictate, why do we think others have an answer... its the absurd nature kicking the tires of our ball spinning in oblivion... ask yourself...

I could never say with any definite blending bark of the tree so tall as its leaves came and went weighted by the initials carved in the bottom the tree was a walking museum of a flash of light in some eyes cast into shadow by the ends of the souls natted dread the rasta clicks in the rhythym beat from the metals laying land with the seed of origins and the orchard or orzine.
Cateye stand by weve 12 months we rise by and ive been getting around with out the knowledge of experience ****** into the bouncing in my step. Its bot correct its just a by-product in transet to its next place of electrolytic typset indifference in the salt on our tables
You said you could be strong but the song burnt the fingerprints and gave waste to the disbelievers the surmised belief based on the last guys who wrote for a purpose
To just shed the light by the prowess built into everything
Inside the code of creation the key shaped by the tumbler it holds the sailing of present to future
Gimme song when im low in the lowlands leading to the opening of the deserted place of the sparrow where the songbird whisical and musical and a makeshift place to rest in the spirits own place of birth in the river of times brook
I just dont want to die alone or insane
Please be a day where im able to just shed it in somber dissolution only held in hearts and heat heathens and the reasons not to even ask why you are drifting by in its own ploy in the world where
A decoy is employed by the mister of the vessel in portrait like a general posed in the annals of legacy left by the mapper whom sat the sky by the suns angled drive.....
Skins on the outside and the souls stays on in and when will i be able to just be ok posted up by the innovations and glimpse the effects have made the music never pretending never pretending

I wil lnot always feel this way
An electric storm inherent to its vice
The day billows the drifting haze
A memory attached to a cursed process
Rhythm flanked by uncertainty
Yes i was there but was i really
Happiness claimed by the veil
Sadness masked by a laugh
The sounds echo through synapses
I saw the end and came back again
I saw the end and came back again
Am i the same as ive always been

I stand in line
Pharmaceuticals await
There is a journey ahead
My phone is almost dead
I exchange pleasantries like a fool
Thr cosmic tentacle reaches in strings
Tightened by night
The release compounded with light seeping
The motions and notions related as human
The man at the breech of infinity
But it doesnt matter much anyway

Slipping down and falling with the restless myriad. Hello we say when we greet and bye we say when we go. To say neither is to say i am always here and will always be, right here. And you, you will be there lost in the same listless mediocrity coated in charmed molecules alike. You love the ride as much as i but that is what it is a ride...

I can only ask the world of this one small favor if ever an hour shall fit and the words could be beacons of light and please just remind me to stay awoke with gentle wind at my back bringing grace into view as it recedes back amonst the ocean and the pillars of prayer that chatter those by the wailing wall and embraces those that tap upon the rattling door that keeps all the children in the haze of a pasture in the heat of the life it enables just as the psalm is his wisdoms delighte as the air blows through martrix bound code cadets out to circumvent a cataclysmic drive to mate and just move to another and then again in the canal of sight and sound and a collective failsafe that will abort a life like an absence that has been inflated around a parade float as the gathered selection of these types that think a giagantic caricature could ever be the answer we sought when the major and minor dont differ the playpen of such men and the zen of another culture without this beautif notion. Zen be my trigger anddplay in the realm of the game caught dead to its life inmy aim so i fire but miss by a mile in its eyes was the wild soulfire of the warwielding and battle crys deep in the sounds of the ones before whom never shot with this gun mans way to dwindle without any extra provocation needed as the sun can burn til its over and the sky will die oh sitting at the peak of a trip ive found in me somewhere just startled and sad to be him always knew this was unrelated but relevant reaching fingers darling to the baby of the fam a few people together bond with the twisting genetic tumble lay down with my chest to the sky of my own self saturated in the conversation last upon my drifty lips just slap at the man at the gate called the end in the ending of all and the affect makinf reflections by the bay of days wuth the haunting of its machine by the ghost of poor working soul
My friends say my parents have said then i forgot by the lake of recall made to the mists in its mouth in the water in the wet wisdom dreaming of man when list in the blanket of night.
Oh ******* words and ******* too if you think ive an answer for you just the sound of me laughing to pieces nothing will last but nothing claims so spread your arms open wide as rays pull you back from the brink and all can be whole if only for tonight swept tight in the skin of the crawl made to wander in search of another to seed as its life pours itself back out into another manic molecular arrangement is made up in script of those if its sun artic laughter so iced mended and cold rendered to cut to the deep of the mind absurd ol me and the powers that be wrapped so tight in the arm of celest the name of earth as of early where its charge made planets to swirl axioms everywhere you look and in every book and inside the dna of all these men... Lost as ever
**** the daylight and ******* howl at the moon and be that golden light that can make a symbolic stand never delivered from surrender that was left as his testament shook to the place you can go where you can hold as it blows the beginning back to its own conception and reduced back to the file used to make space time a funny little thingie in the gears of a train never ending stopping only in the valley of the stars in the chasm uninfered by the redundancies of intention

So beautifully untrue as my reactionany state is documented for the endless see saw. I stare back into the void for a more recent dose of reality at the speed of creation.  
Ambition is just another of the auxiliary emotions that fuel this post moment mentality.  **** energy cache that drive human innovation simply for the simplified reason because a jazz drum beats obscurity. Trying to hash out a plan in the observer's nest... Where all the new futility is being beaten into a push for life once again... So often we forget what were really living for in the transfer of notion through physical.   Empirical evidence is needed.  But then alas a solution for fruition. I will make a choice of conviction and through myself into the void and give purpose to action on an elementary way. A marksmans circle of perception steams up in the machinery of the greatest question that will just never make sense in the abstract area of consciousness.
Theres many many things i would like to fix or hoist into the arena of
public opinion. The high court of the land that cast final judgement tabloid contraptures a device so absurd in nature it immediately is stamped valid and passed
I retreat as those word create these paradoxical platforms that make me the version of me i know right now
That acts as governing official of the redundant office as the very unfortunate state the one who am i in the dawning man you have become. Im constantly searching indeed ive had to make the motif of intent a kind of burn after reading
To find yourself in the obscurity of the void.  That which all must navigate. Like a star map made attractive to others lost in the records of human recall. The question with the answer absurd but wait these words feel too real when theres nothing else to say at all. The end all to end all to appear. You just push on til the day that you dont. I cant give any other resonance of the day where the atoms chain out into the sun. Where the last stand of its death will occur and no trace of the ones who walk tall, lost in the tall brush of conscious relating parades. Some men called by names by former to resolute the sound of surrender. A trumput sounding nobel as distinction in the throes of the mighty but this is humanitys mysterious capsule of illusion stuck deep in the throes parting passions like a truth that can be pass in illusions, hung in the halls the service corridor that leads into palace of permanence. The transitory place oh man sit down another thing again. Stop now follow sounds that make you feel the wave of the infinite loom the place at the end where theres a room to the place where all commiserate. So another stretch of time passed and abundence...

Olly olly turn one down
Olly olly satre said one is found and olly olly you made it 9n time and olly olly make me feel time is fluid and time is fine and olly olly marked a spot and olly olly the quiet morn has given so much already to smile about i was only looking at my own path and changes cartography plot course through the mind but olly olly soldiers kind make a plan and olly olly burn it down

Allusions and its art, shifting currents belabor corrupted by carbons and here we are, you and I, together in this moment. You and me, me and you, fostering an image of some kind of hope, that humans can know one another, finding something deeper rooted in something real. Is this possible, you tell me. Only a few can i say i have known, passed the facade of what has been grown. Into the thicket of the neural gardens of freudian tri state of being. So much nothing inside so little to ******* know. Do you wish to know, do you...

The weary vibrations expelled a name given to me by my mother. I heard the familar sound enunciated in contracting cords, summoned by the computational *****, fueled by the elemental product. Weve lost the way we made we started the program without knowing the coding.
Mimic the mirrors sulled parallels, ghostly and thermodynamic the willow doth grow and visions wilt with the snow, the seasons dictation inside of your voice, syllable sounds of a name