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784 · Nov 2012
"Fear. Desire. Anger."
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
Fear. Desire. Anger.
These are the roads I ride into Hell
Three titans of indescribable power
To create and destroy and control and subdue.
If channeled correctly these emanations
Flow smoothly and make feedback loops
Amplifying exponentially beyond eternity,
(A fragile thing,
Which shimmers blindness selectively
into individual eyes)
But abused in unawareness
And skeletal ignorance
These torrents of energy maim and destroy
782 · Mar 2013
or Create
Owen Phillips Mar 2013
Rhythm straightening
The early morning gray looks at me
Overcast, the sky blankets me in bliss
The cool rain chills to the bone
The cool bones rattle to the ground
Skeletal street lamps illuminate dark business
The occluded acts of idleness on a weekday evening
Sitting on paved carpets and waiting for It to happen;
Today we create for ourselves
Because there is no path but our own
Through the sterile darkness of de-electrified night

The dead hyena by the highway
The leering eyes of his surviving kin
Beasts can feel the concrete start to crumble
They're waiting outside the city walls, gleaming fangs, gnashing jaws
Knowing our day has come and gone
Our soft, tender meat will be all that remains
When the tools of our dominance disintegrate
Breathing easy this late in the game
It's safe because all we can do is wait,
Or create
778 · Mar 2014
electronic dissonance
Owen Phillips Mar 2014
Yeah you facebook friended me and you
Tend to like my posts and I don't mean
You actually like them but when the display tells me you like them,
When I see that red number over above that blue planet in the corner
I feel it in my guts, in my *****,
Like you Like Like me

Yeah but all that stuff's twisted its way into our consciousness like
Jagged metal and I won't stop
Beating my own brains over  the wreckage
Because it feels so good in that
High-fructose, instant ****** kind of way.

But there's my fantasy self, collecting herbs in the garden
He never accomplished anything and he's
Getting thinner and more transparent every day
But from the bathroom window I keep ******* him into cruel, tortured, frightened existence.
5 February 2014
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
Left to remain
Anything to quell fear
Seized opportunity
Sold soul to fear
Parallel vision
Past and present collide
Time recalled of time without fear
Haunting specter
Wild cry
Wild sound of devotion
Old quest uncovered from the dust
Old wilderness restoring to old glory

Firing from old expended
Reservoirs transferring water
Into coffee grinders, to dust
Chained in a crab *** at the bottom of the sea
Pelted with repeated blasts of particles of light
Until the matter is compressed into a singularity
Or breaches on the matter anyway besides
Unleashing rather than a sinkhole trap,
A flash flood over everything
Coating vision with a venereal sheen
Inundated in a fluid silk connective fabric bond
Until the matter reaches
Into pockets of relief
And miracles of situational
Restorative advance
Particulate regenerative
Relationship encounters
Debris from space accumulating
Hoping in some arcane sense
To be reformed together into beasts anew
While similarly fossils of
An ancient swarm of locusts
Are unearthed
They’re met with magnets
Positioned counter to the flow of electricity
This array is aligned to the magnetosphere
Of that old planet
Where I have lived before and left kinsmen behind to grow a colony of their own
But my own magnetism is calibrated today
To the wildly different magnetosphere of my latest home



To put it mildly, out of wild instinct, exiled from an old society
Of innocence/intelligence
A pretense over bell curve
Environment restrictive of
Fraternization *******

On a day too perfect for itself
The stage-play left upon my table
All the actors meandering about
Chance encounters replaying dramas.
774 · Jan 2011
Fortune
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
I just laughed a smooth laugh
Smooth like I imagine the landing will be
When the pole vaulter that is Earth
Sticks its landing and slides in the gravel. It doesn't pretend to make it look like you think you're glad You're here
No way did the dishonest cop actually tell you what was actually true
In fact, he regularly gave absolutely true rumors about me many times
Under a file called, "Open Spaces"
Going to the Rialto
Apparently
But this is not tonight
The name was reaching out like a junglecat

Even Buddha wouldn't tell you why I whispered these things in your ear
We worship everything accumulating at the foot of your door
You **** me with your laughter and you let me blackmail first and near
And then we'll end up with him and some new ones and prepare our spines for more

I felt stronger intensity in your words
Like the buildings were already falling down on all sides of me
When I'm left alone in the wreckage, who is there to dig me out?

And then as you crawl toward me the light of the sun will dance with the eternal sunset
The moon itself full and sparkling
And your heavenly form will be blessed with the color of God.

You appeared to me in some kind of a nihilism fueled dream
I am still walking through this living dream, and have yet to emerge from it
You were once a shade of blue
But have grown into lighter shades
As if reds and greens were suddenly added to your spectrum
Possibly tomorrow will break me from this dream and into the true world of all this business
But for now
I have to only imagine what it is like
To look you deep in the eyes for an eternity
Or to hold you in my arms as if you and I were heading toward oblivion.
Or to touch your body as it conforms gently to the shape of mine
I don't remember writing this
766 · Nov 2012
Hillsborough St
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
This is the first moment that ever was, the crossing metal beams and glass panes,
The blurred reflections of finely polished tabletops
The meticulous tangles of crinkly hair in a variety of unique styles
All murmur to me from a shared experience of eternity
Reminding me that I should
Wake up
All the past is here with me
Unsteady, unwieldy
All the past is waiting for me to open the door and let it be free
And when I do I too will be free
For I am the past even more than the past is me
But I too am the future
As is the past
But I can't let past become future
If I don't WAKE UP
I'll be DEAD soon
Here I am, at WAKE tech*
'Twould be the height of ignorance
Not to see the message
Wake up.
Wake up.
Here I am for the first time in my life
The empty branches never held life, even losing it now
They are not characters of linear narratives
Even the happiness of unions between me and me again
They are born today, none share histories but those they've writ themselves
Wake up.
Remember that time,
So present,
It slipped away
That short synchronous gateway
When I broke through,
When I was nearly awake.
That time is not gone.
Look, look down,
You're wearing a t-shirt from Cup a Joe,
The place where you nearly woke up
Look down, your umbilical cord was cut
And you lived there
On Hillsborough Street,
Just past Cup a Joe
And a beautiful woman right above your head
WORKS there, the mythic place
Where you, where I nearly awoke.
How absurd, to think all would decide to converge there
Independently of each other
It was written
Before all began,
And now begins Time, untime
Now it begins

Remember? Look down, she said
"Be here, Be Here Now"--but remember? HE said Be Here Now
And here I were--
There I was
Impossible, yes, I know
But do you really want to pretend
That it matters
what's
POSSIBLE?
*Wake Technical Community College
761 · Jun 2013
The Radiance Between Us
Owen Phillips Jun 2013
Are you with me
       or are you
       having trouble
       seeing my purpose?
I can tell you I'm with you there
But of course I am, I'm addressing you
And until you prove me wrong, you're not separate from me.
What are we each doing here,
Experiencing this mutual relationship?
It's meaningless, I'll leave this laying in the rain to wash away
It's unimportant
I remember when I ended the world
And the rain began to fall and I
Crawled on the ground for my scraps of physical communication with you
And for the first time accepted their destruction as inevitable and inconsequential
But the rain eventually cleared
And didn't float our tents away to Valhalla with us inside
And I found my notebook,
Safe and dry
One of God's messengers had taken care of its safety
When the first raindrop fell
So I looked upon your faces in amazement and bliss
Every set of eyes has such radiance
And it seemed to have tendrils growing directly from me
10 June 2013
751 · Jan 2011
Metaphysical Transgressions
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
Should I have realized
All that, looming over your head
Leaving a bright, luminous trail of enrichment
Skewered at the end of the longest famine in history,
(Everything dies and somehow
Never stops taking away your deaths)
And endless depths,
Was never mentioned in the volumes
Of the black books
Stored on the shelves
Of the libraries of Hell?

Should I have realized
That the flood and all its filth
The crumbled bodies and crumbled souls
Were kneeling at the doorstep
Of everybody's waking eyes
And everybody's closing minds
And the entrance to your world?

Should I have realized
That all these angels,
All these demons
These tangled webs
These newfound freedoms
All living seperate lives outside your reality
Were all essentially and undeniably
Cleared of all charges and metaphysical transgressions?
Help me think of a better title
746 · Apr 2013
The Self-Creating Loop
Owen Phillips Apr 2013
And nobody spoke for you
In the sea of tranquility
Only you were there, you didn't do, you didn't think,
You were
You are still
We are all there is
Everything that is
Shines within, shines without
Shines into you
Shines out from you
Spirits give you gifts when you listen for them
Windows play you music, play alive organic movies when you open them
Language clears your path for you
And language builds the world you live in
AM poems, based on dreams, mutated from the PM thoughts,
Which came from all that came to pass
And came to be that day
And all of that originated in the first ideas put forth in
AM poems, closing the loop,
And keeping us in wonder, how does this reality, all unreality, all hyperreality
Come to be and create itself and undo itself all at once?
742 · Nov 2012
Butterfly Winds
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
I burned the sentinel at the edge of my kingdom
It drifted to the earth in ash
And mingled with the butterflies
Catching the wind of their migration

Danger loomed on the horizon
And we saddled up to face the storm
For facing us down, descending from a distant future
Was the death of all mankind,
Gray and looming,
A wall of cloud behind which the
Stars no longer shone
Extinguished with the rest of universe
As we willed it to be,
In the fires of our egoism and despair
737 · Nov 2011
Brief Re-Emergence
Owen Phillips Nov 2011
The leaves parted
Pirouetting to the ground
And out he steps
Shaking spider webs from underneath his armpits.
He holds down a limb
And peers into the place he hid
And hears it call him back.
So he turns to see a world
That had forgotten him
But as it sees his cool visage
It crowds the city streets
And cheers for his parade at every corner.
And so he said,
That he would one day be again
For now he stews within the fires of
A world of solid walls.
So he crumbles back in shape
And stands alight for just a moment
Till his duty calls
And he is ****** back into hiding
Where there is no life
For him, though many say they see it there
It is the prison walls
That so occlude his sight that he be blind.
And with that moment of
Rekindled embers in the fire pit
He came to life again,
And warmed the hearts of those who once knew him
He washed away the past's foul taste
And brought anew the esoteric harmony
That so eluded us without him
736 · Jan 2012
Outside
Owen Phillips Jan 2012
Outside there's a planet breathing,
The heathens lock me up inside,
Docking nature from my daily point of view.
Out there, forms, existing, hide
And never grace perception for we
Victims of our sin.
Some of us learn wonder
From the books and screens ubiquity
Would have us think are real,
Are all there is to know
Out in the sprawling urban world.
But somewhere past the city walls
The planet vibrates, oozes
While the monuments to modern man
Stand idly in the *******.
697 · Nov 2011
His Eternal Reward
Owen Phillips Nov 2011
Freed from his dependence on
Existing through a replicated
Version of the world in which he
Hoped to be enlightened,
He began to morph into a
Different kind of creature, as if
Something deep inside him was
Exploding from within.
Somehow this new creature
Reunited his sensations
With the realm of the ideas
Which he imagined in his head.
Somehow this new creature
Boiled over with emotion
Overwhelmed by all the beauty
It perceived in its new world.
Something in humanity's
Capacity for love and all the
Clockwork which connected all the
Matter in existence, from the
Moment of conception to the
Day we kick the can,
Captivated all the molecules
Of his imagination and
Aroused all the receptors of
Sensation in his mind;
Sensation, which he knew now to be
God's true incarnation, from the
Knowledge he'd attained from having
Met his God in person.
So all of this emotion,
Which was all that from within him
That he knew to be the truth
Was too exploding out from in.
So endlessly he channels
Out through portals to the outside
World of stimuli which in return
Rewards him with sensation
678 · Mar 2013
at the undergrad library
Owen Phillips Mar 2013
I am a grid and I'm staying here tonight
I'm a thing, things don't have to do
I'm overdue
This is where I sleep
Till the morning dew
Where I mourn the moon
Till the still runs dry
And I still won't cry if you stay with me
But the path becomes clear
The vines fall from the arbor
The armature is alive
With the muscular strength of a thousand guys

I can't follow you line for line
But I often hear truth in your general gist
I may have missed a connection or two
But I'm not vexed, I can see the direction you took
I'm invested in you
But the best thing I do
Is ignore what the dead
Have all already said
And find paths on my own to the same garden

Don't look away and it won't fade
As the stillness blinds us
The shapes start to burn their way
Into the mind's eye
And we find
That we're staring out at St. Allusion's infinite bliss
665 · Jan 2012
Dragon Commander
Owen Phillips Jan 2012
He played beneath the skies of a dragon commander
Blissfully ignoring the ominous.
His fate was sealed and he
Was seeping through the envelope
His cloak was flowing briskly
And it hid an endless sea
Of casual feelings of casualty.
The spirit of the proceedings
Heeded his untimely departure
While he stood stoic sternly
Establishing the mood.

And all the polar vapors
Kept the Contrast open wide
While the elemental fibers
Crept inside him while we died
And the journeys going on outside
Cast shadows on the spring
As the chambers resonated with the
Words that he did sing
And the lookers on reported
How his heartache broke the scene
And the specters there presenting
Seemed to billow from his dream
And the lights that flash behind him
Signal monsters from above
To attack the emissaries
In their castle walls of love
While his smile keeps us hoping
For another moment more
Underneath his cool umbrella
In this never-ending war.
Here chameleons can fool us
If we listen to their lies
But this music keeps us safe
And it keeps open all our eyes
650 · May 2013
Under the Influence
Owen Phillips May 2013
You can obviously see that I'm
Under the influence, writing about my enemies
Trying to find a friend to meet
You can see the joy in me
We can love each other freely
Nothing stands between us
You're on the other side of a mountain
But our mouths are touching,
We are nothing
I'm coming to see you,
eventually I'll be you
Starring in a play you're directing
About me inventing you

We're all scared of dying,
But then we wish we could,
We're all afraid our love won't be enough,
But then it is.
I missed a chance
And I danced on your feet
But we'll always die together when we meet.
643 · Jan 2011
Another Way to Say It
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
My words are just a tool I use
To understand how much I feel for you
I feel the burn of spent reserves
And know I'm running out of words
They repeat and on the canvas
I see thinning, dying bones
And use them up again to spare their misery

And all I'm looking for
Is another way to say
I want to taste the lint in your belly button
Another way to say
I want to smell you sweating in my bedroom
I want to hear your heartbeat through my chest
I want to see you naked in your sunday clothes
I want to feel you crushing me above me
Penetrating me beneath me
I want to taste your ****** cracked lips
And feel you biting off my tongue
And see your nickel eyes conjoined
And hear your disappointed sigh
And smell the smoke on all our clothes and on your breath

And when I dream of being close to you
I see me not fulfilling you
I see my noble efforts come to nothing
After seven minutes trying
And I stumble from you, crying
And I see that time
Of yours and mine
Where all my bets go on the line
The game is lost
And then the cost
Our evening destroyed
And just like every time before
After you've shown me the door
I'll just keep asking more
641 · Jan 2011
The Return
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
The return—
Returning to a home
Folding time and space
To bring back the memory of the day of departure
Arms have extended and grasped all the while
Till today, they take hold of what they reached for
Its familiar contours
Its memory foam
It gives way easily
The meantime has been too kind to its impression
Unkind to its façade
The chaos theory proven true
In their minute variation

The fanfare plays, too often flat
The welcome feast is stale at that
Debriefing passes, inauspicious
The silent distance surreptitious
Replacements ready, set in place
Just one last chance to see the face
Of everything that’s left behind
That it might lay to rest in mind

The return.
This is no longer a home
Time can lose itself again.
Space is mercifully cold
Arms now folded at their sides
Never more
Return again.
623 · Jan 2012
Area Drive
Owen Phillips Jan 2012
These empty spaces
Live to be refilled!
As cogs parade alone along
The paths they've drawn across the courtyard
Crowds coagulate and test
The patience of the ape--
And all the while
With this casual smile,
It is not in my heart to scream,
But as I dream I rue the sins of the bored;
These wasted spaces simply dying to be explored
At least when fires flood the crowded
Roads, the ones that go beyond
The guardrails may still be alive
And living life beyond the pale of
Settlement where sinners die

Those who face arena fights
Each night against their brothers and their
Mother Earth will be the victims
Of their own atrocity--
The boredom of the quivering mass of
Blindness stumbling o'er itself each moement
In the overcrowded streets.
620 · Apr 2013
Organic Virtual Reality
Owen Phillips Apr 2013
I would lay at night and hope to dream
And visualize what I'd want to see
Because the easy path to what I want to be
Was through organic virtual reality

I wanted to be by the stormy sea
In humble garb on the beach with thee
Then strip to nothing for your eyes to see
The totality of naked me

Well the dream did come and you sat with me
And with your touch drew me close to thee
And I knew to kiss you, becoming We
And in the back seat, remained in unity

But the morning came and the dream was gone
And I saw what a fool I had been to long
For that fleeting moment in a fleeting dream
And not for our union to truly BE
619 · May 2013
We Identify with the Water
Owen Phillips May 2013
Summoned by winds of continuous change
We marched half-sleeping through May
Resting on private lands up high in trees we hide ourselves from prying eyes
Beside ourselves, we watch the ways we emulate our idols
And the winds show us paths to our own identities

We identify with the water
You drink us and we become one
"Un-DT*"
Beneath the sun we vibrate faster, further, floating up to see the stars closer, turning down to see the total landscape
Cooling off so we can race back toward the earth and join with her
A union that knows no bounds
She is where we've spent a billion years
And she will die one day
And so will we be water no more
Split into hydrogen and oxygen
We will float through the galaxy
Engulfed in nothingness
In search of new planets
Where we can drink creation anew
*Un-differentiated tissue, from William S. Burroughs' *Naked Lunch*
616 · Nov 2012
Even as We Close Our Eyes
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
Unrealities       can
                  now        be                         held true
Because every
               bodyevery
                            day is stuck in one
When one reality is projection screened
Shining straight into the eyes
It's blinding, luciferic
                      Floating up and away
Into void
   Where safety and utter loneliness are assured
While even as we
                    close our eyes
                              disproving boogiemen
They clamber around making changes and destroying lives along with you
    Your unseeing feet
        Crushing the innocents
            Beneath a comforting rug
                 That spares our soles
                     The pain of walking on shattered bone

Following the points of lines firing from the pupils of whiches and witches
Enrichéd and stiffened to stone
Has dragged me down to the bog and I stink like a dog and I live a dog's life too
Circling myself and waiting for the invisible a'ni himu to happen to me without a statement

I don't know Being
I don't know it in itself of itself
Some told me it spoke with the voice of a child, some destroyed them-
Selves dressing up flowers and archways in those orders
And cornering us ants at the intersection which creep crawls
Crazily down from its
Geographic space and happens to face the way yr sitting
Eating meat or drinking tea
And bam he flips and crushes you
And what do you do
How can it be
When do you know it was your destiny?
bursting open your skull on the sharpest brick beside the softest memory
Of a 42nd birthday of the end of a dream
600 · May 2013
"Love's the base line"
Owen Phillips May 2013
Love's the base line
Let us be and what would we lack?
Love's no elixir nor intoxicant
Love's the pure undifferentiated state of joy
Love's where we go when we let go of ourselves
And we let go of our games and our desires
And our pasts and our futures and our fates and destinies
Love is tasting good food and chewing till it's paste and sitting back and smiling feeling it energize every cell
Loves hoping everybody wins the poetry slam
Because what good would it be to be in it for yourself
For one person
Against the universe?
None of us are opposed in love,
We are the unbroken chain
But every link is not connected to just
The link in front and the link behind
It is connected to every link at once
It is connected to every link ever forged with the blacksmith's love
The chain doesn't draw a line between us,
It wraps around us and ties us together
Oh love is all I knew before this poem
And love is the effortlessness of every word
Because only Nothing could be easier than love
And love is to BE nothing
Because who could resist such loving completion?
Nothing is the soul of the universe
And anything at all is Nothing but Love
Love is finishing my speech and sitting down because I'd rather hear yours
Owen Phillips Feb 2011
To be connected to the world
The smells all filtered through the sewers
To my waiting nostrils comfortable in their proper home

And my watering mouth is satiated
Many times again because
The robot fields around yield more than
All of us combined

I never have to even know what I am looking for;
Things can just find me, on the tips they get
From people like me hooked into the tap
Where liquors varied, strong, and plentiful
Flow back and forth all day

One day what was here before
We piled ourselves upon it
Will prevail and start to suffocate
Un-breathing remains of who we were

Sometimes while swimming in the spring
I see sights that I haven’t seen
Since back when I had lucid dreams
Of wolves and bats and beating drums
by Owen Phillips
584 · Nov 2012
AM Automatic 1
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
essential radiance wilts and fades
In the light and halo of propane tank explosions
Dark cold nights spent rocking back and forth on the edge of a dream
Only knowing in hindsight that the forgotten question
Was what brought us here in the first place

phases come in and out of tune
Their lunar frequencies alive with you, you sit and open up the case all day, we let the cold air tighten up our powdered skin, the holes we've bored into the raincloud stick us in the neck,

Join hands with wisdom
extinguish dominion, combine and refract the remainder, destroy the big time dog-catchers.
hungriest of all was the Cat whose puzzled look of shame diverted your eyes while he disappeared into a higher vibratory frequency, which became color and sound syntesthesia
Blending seamlessly with the broken windows through which were heard vague memories of forgotten  dreams, the shouts and rhythms quite audible but each syllable indistinguishable
575 · Nov 2012
Another Forgotten Dream
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
Listen for prophetic screams
Weighing down the end of yr nose
Greasing up the hydraulics of the eyeballs
Emerging wholesale from a dream
Residue of unseen seas
Still caked in tangled hair
563 · Mar 2014
Siren Song of Fire
Owen Phillips Mar 2014
The softness of feminine beauty
Shimmers at the ends of long, winding trails,
Back-lighting the swaying ferns and vines
With the siren song of iridescence

There is such darkness that would consume this light.
There are veins of electricity
Corroding Martian canals into your soft flesh

I am here to tend the fire
Which your spark can't help but ignite.
I don't want to throw myself upon these flames and blot them out,
But give them space to reach into the trees
And spread light to everyone

So much wasted potential drains away with your tears of joy.
The hiss of evaporation into these soft flames
Is the song I sing for you
9 February 2014
545 · Nov 2012
PM Automatic 1
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
So what happens when too strong of a signal is fired
When the synapse is blown and destroyed?
Alignments of stars are deploying themselves into
Physical reality from your own ideas of nature

Give me all that I can use
Let me in
Or do I back away,
Do as the balanced disciplinary
Tactician would do out above the unbeatable city streets?

The skulls of my many deaths pile up
In the memories of my extragalactic cemetery
Back home where I was one with everything

I was following a number of prisms
Into voluntary service
When it came to collision
But it didn't concern me
As I marveled at visions
From the center of existence
To the edge of religions
To the furthest reach of outer space
And other dimensions
521 · Dec 2012
See
Owen Phillips Dec 2012
See
I was making my way into an open market
I almost fell into a basket of limes
I felt my feet slip out from underneath me
Like a trapdoor sliding over
And making me
Hang from a fire escape into a desolate
Alley where filth runs into old rusted fixtures which
Glisten with blood
And the lights outside show their way in
I can see shafts of light now, from people adjusting

There were 15 million of you, my condolences
This is the only time
     we're going to be able to
           make it through
Watch myself
Dissolve away
My mind decay
My gasp delay
And my spirit say
That this is the day
496 · Jan 2011
Reasons for Living
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
My mind is defined by the lines on the page
My face shows no sign of my age
But the faint hairs that grow on my lip and my chin
Show that I'm still not a man
Your lips hold more secrets than I'll ever know
And both of us still need to grow
To be weightless in space and soaring through time
Would be nothing like holding your hand

Tonight while I'm with you my mind's on the brink
My head is exploding and I barely think
And I'm taking your kindness, not giving you mine
Just fanning the flames on the fire
I'll never be great and I'll never be yours
I'm forcing you open, you're locking the doors
If I told you that I didn't want you to know
Then I would be naught but a liar

I sing your name from the tops of the trees
Disturbing the sleep of the birds and the bees
While the shadows creep silently on with the moon
Which rises and falls with my tune

Other men that you know are more pleasing to you
But no other man feels like I do
You can search through the jungle of concrete and grass
Parked cars and bicycles, dark curtained glass
And you'll see all the people and they're just like me
Finding some reason to be
We keep all our reasons in bullets and lines
No way that I could express mine
As dawn starts to break, your toes drenched in the dew
It becomes clear that my reason is you.
486 · Jan 2011
I Am Everything
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
He took me on along with him
To the forest in the sky
His voice was loud and fast and deep
It made my heart to cry

His name was never mentioned in the deepest darkest place
His heart would never win if mind he tried to chase
His name was "I Am Everything"
He made the women's hearts to sing
And left me in the clearing

The river trickled by me, in yellows and in pinks
I'm uncomfortable deciding if its water I should drink

The branches of the jungle smelled like German auto cars
I climbed into the canopy to gaze at all the stars
I made change of everything, the jungle to a zoo
To make it back to home and to the embrace of you

I swim against the river and watch the moon turn green
I climb the waterfall and then right out of the ravine
I'm IN THE CLEAR...
I HAVE NO FEAR!
483 · Jan 2011
The Old Dancer
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
The old dancer swaying in the wind.
Remembering not to remain.
Beyond reason, beyond what we pretend.
With what you say, we cannot change.

The old dancer asks you to forgive
You don't believe anything anymore
She would rather simply let you live.
She assumes you wouldn't ask for more

Where are you, where am I?
When we got here, why did you lie?
What could you tell me to believe
That you know I can perceive?

Don't ask questions, don't go forth.
The ancient dancer starts to die.
You don't realize what she's worth.
On the wind I hear her cry.
475 · Mar 2013
AM Automatic 2
Owen Phillips Mar 2013
And on the 23rd attempt she was half-realized
But across the sea she began to see in her dreams
What her eyes on the paper stared out at from the past

She forgets dreams upon waking
She creates schemes with fake actors,
Attractive and confident people
And evil surrounds her
I don't like to be around
Fearing their presence
And she hears on the wind that I won't be returning
But all that this tells her is
Life will go on as it has since the time
When her faces were being
Configured on paper,
Her true form solidifying
With each passing club meeting
And art school submission
And throw down the gutter
And substance test warning
The morning before being
Forced to report on the innocent wives of the kinds
Who prepared what our minds
Would later consume and disintegrated
Reforming 10,000 years later
More open and flexible and appreciative and reverent
And ecstatic and creative and mindful of its functions
441 · Nov 2012
That Other World
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
I want them to let me
Into that other world
To live where the sand
Always shifts underfoot
Where lovers can't break with your eyes and your smile
Where walls can contain all
That is or shall be
Where doors can be found
Into mysterious worlds
Where the people aren't growing
Where they have always been
Where nothing is new
And nothing is old
All is eternal
Everything shifts and it
Changes each night, but it
Lasts through the ages
Its timeless for time
Is not real
3 March 2011

Interesting that this was before what I consider some of my most formative poetic experiences, yet it flows so organically with what I've been writing since then. I suppose the difference is that they DID let me into that other world ;)
419 · Sep 2012
The Response
Owen Phillips Sep 2012
Who started the electric feeling
The ones that were trying like icing to find their way in through the watch tower. "Look at us" they said, peering closer, and not knowing where to look next, continued, "we haven't been traveling long, we started 3 months from now."
Granted permissible service the federal agent eyes the floor and whispers back, "We know this kind, we've seen what happens to them when they reach the past. Let's stop them From ever accomplishing by destroying the future, thus obliterating the past."
The federal agent caught on to the fact that the physical action of writing has always been planted inside them to remind them as they've reached death how to get back into the past

We're viewing from the inside
So we can't see the real way in

night
every
us home
driving
been
who's
Witness
A surprise
Can outrun
Of Disguise
A Force
How
many
sacred
by a
been proven
It's
This is the response to "An Invocation"
377 · Mar 2011
City Street in Spring
Owen Phillips Mar 2011
As the days get longer
We give up our promises
And sing in different
Voices than the ones we had agreed to.
Basking in warm winds from distant
Lands and times where scents distressed
Fermented to the sweetness of indolence.
The wind can make your bones feel
Invisible, your brain at rest,
Suspended on an updraft;
Muscles bathed in honey,
Dense and weightless on the softness of the
Air, the streets are waking up
And breathing, start to murmur to you.
Fill your hearts with prickly stimulation as the vibrancy
Is born again against the death that
Dies away beneath your feet, all buoyant on the crispness of a
City street in Spring.
359 · Nov 2011
He Runs Away
Owen Phillips Nov 2011
He runs away and she will sulk behind
Until he stops to look and cannot see her there
He gets distracted by the dancing passion by the road
And lets her gain on him until she finally touches him
He pulls away and sees an avalanche collapse
Into the empty space he leaves behind
And when she weeps for him he sees his God, beckoning again
And in his awe and fear, he makes love to her again
Their fire blinding and erratic
And by the time he wakes and God is shining everywhere
Instead of right into his eyes,
He is cosmically relieved
And naked he awakens her
They fix each other up
And face the next day born again

— The End —