eerie nics in wood
floor beneath vein enriched feet
release seeping creature feeding
before-
the burrow into stain
and
creaks
and
leaks
|
reign!

You taught me mauler of trent,
on a network relevāre.
Pixel mascots, but when reality sits,
3 hour snapshots.
The unwavering syntax scoped by excluder’s;
“He looks like he’s fasting, dissipating on spot.”
Some don’t know good quality accelerators at first sight.
You’ve got your semiconductor meeting an arranged free space.
Technically, inner currents are controlled by transistors and valves.
A semi-conductor with similar components.
But you are a lone current,
binding with no electricity, leading your own.
Fixating circuitry around and around like flocks when feeding.
As far as nature is concerned, it relates permissibly.
I want to furnish counterpart currents real soon.
If you don’t mind that is. Non divided, or obsolete.
Strict countermeasure meandering from start to finish.
If just no ending happens to occur, and concurrence rises.
We’ll say theory was proven. One of natures surprises.

Disasters enfold, plates shift,
our mother has waken,
maybe a sign of the times,
or maybe I'm mistaken?
A 7.0 scale mark,
can somebody call a medic?
Violence descends from 200 years,
and I can't find a doorway in hear
She stays breathing,
moving, hungry,
we all live on top of her gears
If we grind them hard enough
she'll represent our ducts real tears

Guarded none other than fetcher of bone

Defacement and then
removal of insides-blatent

Cometh you will stand ground of his thrill
May ye join fleshly hobby and thus-
make small talk

Granted
-sensations unheard of will consume
whilst pale palms grip prudent warm death

The common road, a gateway
yet, that ****, pleasant leeway
no kind of our kind deboned and taken
summon the already passed
much helpless animal unshaken

The retrospect of material
I value those works on machines
Mainly in co ordinance of our commons
When you hadn't recoiled towards summons
Contrary compassed promotions.

Palpating the inadaquet; a revert
Chances to brandish
Never did you, cultivating no savvy aerials
Inspiring me not with world's flow
A place I wanted to spand;
Inside still do.

On pulverant turfs did we become jovial
Only until now has zest fulfilled
so I thought.

Stupor on you revulsion, and to attorny
hearsay rumors, spur verses words
Your flight remains hurt

The retrospect of days
Spays that gained ways waned
Which I could not jurisdict
Tactful our souls
Both cordial; satted in rage
Images of ****** past age

Halyconing things to say
But still I shake when I view you
Alone behind machines
A ****** head; drenching steam
To far former and prior; like dream

I hate your movement, your tainted, remorseful, inhuman, abnormalities.
hemorrhage your finances on useless entities, such as a mind altering beverage, more than one, or please go on and drink yourself to death. I was almost so accurately close to the unconscious mind you engage in every 12 hours, but loosely, abruptly, and significantly, it was what humanity refers to as a “failed task”. To you things are practical, so spur of the moment, our impulses we had frequently left us in dismal. Ever on occasions, if I ever. Finding a soul doppel-ganged to yours,  carbon copied, manufactured, identical traits, perfectly matched in sequence of personal qualities making me sink as far down as gravity could pull my main pumping *****, of course this is all anatomy. I laugh, although I should be rather pessimistic about that morning dawn, fogged, winter dawn. But what exactly is a joke without a punchline? A cell with no nucleus? a ******* house with no support beams? A band with no drums to keep everything counting, to keep everything in time? These things may no be able to survive without base, and you can find humor in everything life possesses, even after disaster. According to the most profound term of worship, the most known masked replica of “religion”, according to, this representative is god, the joke master. Look at your mentally impaired, speaking on a more serious level of course, I think things would ride smoothly if I had been blessed with autism. You see that type of mind state can put others at ease, they think so shrewdly that I feel sorry for them rather than the mental impaired. TO be gifted, to not give 12 ***** about media, politics, war, economy, and common global uproars. Thus if they do they know more than the presidential campaign combined into one single universal atom. What I’m getting at is are they the joke or are we?

adieu, egress, hegira
by gone; a strong term
I am a long winters' dormant worm
|
I pry the tip of the Earth with a blind eye
As I flex to the gap reaching something warm
something elated
|
Cold grit lines my skin like the prior-bathe of a traveling bird
The bellows cast at me adoringly, gust's that sting lightly
Frail but assured as I graze the tepid ray
|
dernier cri, objet d'art, vicissitude
up's and down's are now adue
I spring of change and what is new

Hints of exposure in the new waving world of disclosure
Gestures of the hands can mean hello,
can mean goodbye,
can mean come forth,
can mean please die.
Whichever you choose for use,
it’s nothing but a body seminar excuse.
Ones that march for allnighters vs alldayers.
Cults who vow one human being for some prayers.
An army lead by Satan advocates.
Sick misfits in psych-wards,
the strangest place known to be
I’ve been and let me tell you that I’ve never been so negligent.
To think of it all behind cushioned walls, strapped to the cot.
And all I did was smoke a little ***.
Thats right the gate opener drug they say,
but my first were pills crushed.
The Xanax sleep sway.
I gestured then and now, then and now.
Vow to no cult, religion, just sound.
Yeah I vow to sound,
******* fox and the hound.
I vow to such sound that has yet to be found.

_________________


It is a deep sense I feel on the constant
Like breath that anew on foreign continents
Also a crave that I've known for some time
never to lie towards self but lately, rather, subside
The sketch of the shanty is brewing about
Things I thrive most, will fall among fall
It is night and more which thrive this existence,
pestilence, precision, and distance
Noted those traits I felt most accomplished
Never lose self notice, grow like a lotus,
boil in foil, and grind gears of purpose

She plays to mimic harps and dance and form thereof
The great bashed dingy thing is glossed with extra coats of drone string grease to ease and abound
Ribbing notes and notes meretriciously
Never brazened by shy low count numbers of heads when live
Always accommodated by the secreted bar life
She plays a province of many never back for second shows
Your luck is idled to capture the girl and her Bazantar
Zero rendezvous of travel by car
Zero by plane or train
She is as spurious as main instrument held
Unknown is her home, and unknown is her name
The many graceful played and sowed from baryton, vilola d,amore, lute, and sitar
Only predilection to her is he the Bazantar
Basking her flare slight tilted and wared
He is meek but bold with her as his gold and him as her stone
They are eternity prone
The 33-stringed object and girl implode
Nothing less than reciprocal to her Bazantar flow

Echo's of Yul; 7,000 trenches and more
Have your winded bounds broken
Demolish in all, foil through wind
Echo's of Yul barely spoken

When struck from sky; great atmosphere gates
Product elements; no more bounds
Perish your heights from foot to wing,
And capture deserved golden crowns

While mirrors reflect grounds of soil
Soaring you will above all,
Breaking seized rules; Newton is fooled
"Echos of Yul"! he will squall

Tonight in front of the early AM infomercial,
I overturn,
And flip through a few times more
Finally, to attribute self dialect
Still watching images on a soundless screen,
mimicking their actions,
One thought only fills the mute void
________

Our leering fog days under freeways
Waiting all hours during school weeks
to hear you fill the mute void
_______

Technology, I claim,
Surprises the electro brain currents at such hour
Given the right two and a half hour sleep schedule,
A lack, made proceeding day event sheering
________

I just wanted you to realize that before your double self died
That monster we both made in unison
Is my death of a hideous past
The thought of him at this hour
Always fills the mute void
Puts me to sleep under fluorescence glowing
from the early AM infomercial.

Maneuver your stride towards me,
towards optimizing roads
For decades your desires were not so consistent
but for me it remains deliberate.
The peak of my dreams are atoms of dark pessimistic matter,
even if a fraction of the optimistic shatters.
Your still a quaint engineer severing many individuals to planks,
but lucky me I flew away, like cranes.
I may be mesmerized by the tides of these oceans zones,
but unlike you I know just how to divide the depths
into separate monotones.
Prisms reflecting, concepts dissecting,
and nothing more than the galaxies 3rd rock
revolving towards dissolving.
Anxious bones, weary nerves,
everyone has been a lust of the moment spur.
I beg your resistance but aren't you a *******?
Never spoke to yours either?
Some men are just cowards.
Yeah so some shells broke
and not every pearl was found,
But who really needs a new necklace and fake ocean sound?

__________________



From,­

Onward racing spying and yielding those hiding
further out renting some yellow tent hardly
fire obstructs really soon you thought hard
failing oil rig staining the yard
Then he fought on
raging
spitting
yelling
teething
hanging

For seethe

I saw the mantis dead
still in praying position;
in all recognition
as I noticed him there;
I wondered his last meal;
I wondered his last prayer

It’s simple, speaking in terms of evolving
You have babies, infants, helpless little beings,
Just being and needing.

Children; there they are playing
Laughing around, giggling, crying,
Launching tempers towards wanted things,
Meaningless flings with people they won’t know soon,
And all their knowledge now
Turns into nostalgia tunes.

Adolescent phase; hormone filled
Feeling alienated no matter how hard you try,
Your awkward body won’t be for long,
Please, do not cry.

Adult hood; my how fast it flew,
You didn’t think you’d see marriage within those two
Lot’s of regrets, and down turns you might have missed,
Block it all out, attend that grocery list.

Not so new anymore, fragile
Acceptance gained
Widowing a loved one brought you great pain
Although you had your fun,
it’s time to recycle yourself, death’s best
It’s alright to forget, now go on and rest.

I saw all of their pretty faces in a book

One big one

The books that collect dust, reading “clean me” on it’s cover

All the faces in line

Combined and waiting to be exposed

But no one wants to open tomes dust smothered

And for centuries…closed

The codex found it’s way on a trail

To a whole new world

Filled with pixels and combinations defined

But they all died waiting in line

Like my mind
its just the timing
of things new

Ways away
with head filled by matter
a day in a life
to know
to capture

Hard dark place
reside to self
fill all sounds
mesh one thought

A town with different sets
long to feel you're far
this is real
mean for thrill

Wanted eyes sleep with people
to need
to feel
his tongue tastes like home