The red waves of an azalean sea,
Foaming in crimson and pink and ruby,
Break on the soft green grass shore before me,
Behind them / Looming / Snow capped / Mount Fuji,
Oh, how much I wish right now to be,
Surrounded by these florid waters,
To swim into the painted scene and see,
To exist as colours—in eternity.

Upon a smooth, wooden ship
    Crossing many sorteds,
Playing with air flows and spectres of Fates’
             We linger, in a withheld suspense

    In rebellion of our empathy
Idolize tyrants for their fruiting audacities
       Comical dialogues
                       form heart soothing canon

     Squalls and all that other sea-legged rhetoric
             To be that proper link in a sense
Cheers to that me boi..

But will that be the better
           For the seeping synchronicities
     Swinging their hips

This rusty mesh wires gate
    Spreading into other focuses
Dreaming of subtle symbols
Excreting lovely notions
      Kind of float in my own stumble
  Exciting to see what’s next
I get scared and retreat sometimes
  But we all need sanctuary
                            from self image sometimes
       So what will this  stroll come to?
  And mostly it’s sorted ideas,
Fleeting fantasies,
              A whole lot of trying to think or do
Or something
   Forgetting is part of this process too
But I’ll stop to capture the moment
             The way the sun melted into
    Kind of fruity textures contemplating
        Lonely, but pure

Business stains and I’m partially a napkin.
Or is it?. Can’t decide either way.
The moment aren’t too for it anyhow.
The mountain drive is so alive with soggy
Nights of living in a pent up tent.

We reached it on a back road,
      I’d hardly call it bushwhacking
Slave drivers move in and you find
       out it was yr personality
all along

The beach were *****
        Crawling, sinking, lifting foes, the victor.
Speaking of subspecies and kin. As professor has.
         Spells of nausea in the back party
        Sorting through the masters
          Seeing whom is served most devotionally
Bhakti, la-la, la la la!
              Present moment I am all..
I am all
I am all, I am all

Lifting fingers place a spell
And webs form out like destiny
Water serving through the flames
Emboldening, triumphantly exploring understanding.

Lifting fingers, for an empty shelter
‘It was crazy what was said through me, it almost sounded..but it wasn’t.’
And then we  cross it, move things
around a bit, losing yr place
Slightly, cautioning; to feel through the mess

Plenty are, and simply so that I short circuit, Everytime

Severity and Mercy are contingents
We barely see the correlations but alas it's there
When I was a child I'd take naps during the day
As I dozed I'd get this feeling of absolute softness
Enveloped entirely in a rock-like substance
I tried so hard to come to an understanding
To figure out what it was
It was my secret feeling, a mystery
Now and then the experience floods me still
Like concrete sponge, oozing, yet, unbearably firm.

Perhaps it's something like that
Perhaps it's the ethereal non material substances forming into thoughts, ideas, actual manifest solidity
The essence of Binah trickling in through the astral
Formating, correlating, confusing
These aspects are tricky and I'm always in danger of forming fact from a theory, idea, notion..

Blessed be the weary for we may just get some rest.

toda noite deito minha cabeça no travesseiro
viajo em minha mente como um passageiro
sonho com o inalcançável e me perco por inteiro

se não me identifico com a vida real
se meu eu só é contemplado no surreal
há algo em mim que é verdadeiro?

Broken seven seals
You will never know what’s real
Spurning the surreal

converging clouds create
a celestial ceiling
a disappearing of the sun's rays
an ominous feeling of the revealing
of the truth:
the world's been packed
into an intergalactic burlap sack,
taken—
and we are not coming back
world-napped—
never to be awakened.
kiss us, but
the prince is not handsome,
we are alone, so
no one will pay our ransom.