I had arrived after the long trek,
Richer as I had experienced the
frozen hearth that sits above,
The clueless heads,
Met atop the clouds,
The tracks sent a wind tunnel,
forcing our backs, to the limits,to the corner of the world,
The nexus that,
Formed our nostalgia,
Even traveled beyond,
reached over our pre-existent,
omnipresent,
pre-frontal cortex,
breaking context,
calculated alignments,
evaporated,
Translucent beings,
Whispered,
Trailed,
Washed along the frost,
That bath of pure biting numbness,
Meandering souls awashed,
Clamoring to fiery shores.
Warm bodies,
Women,
Good Food & Drink,
Not in this forsaken place,
An outlandish request,
From otherworldly lands.

Their eyes gleamed in the night,
perplexed, perpetuated, petrified,
gregarious fixtures devour their limelight,
Makeshift creations encircle their heads.
It was a real pain in their ***!
Why couldn't it all fly by?
Why couldn't the ***** lass be persuaded,
what would have happened to their dreams?
Dazzled and shattered on monotonous hallways,
exaggerated?

Thunapa
*** Sherop
Faruk Sharanmah
Mu Talamut,
Kal Farmalutut,
Jat Malut,
Salut,
Matreetah,
Sopa,
Masheep,
Thunapa.

Torn winter sight,
Cartoon loneliness,
Speaking slavishly,
Under the breath.

Trying to lose,
the way,
by gaining,
a path,

Set forth quasi-fold,
Sorted under magnetism,
The cloudy silver sigh,
Serpent hissed,
Past the foyer,

Cast aside belonging,
Become silent,
And have it come to past.

Open your ears to the dead beat,
Open your eyes affixed to the wall,
Open your mind to the ever-flowing ether,
Open your heart so one might hear the call.

To the wild, arcane, gilded centurions,
To the ambient, intangible outcomes,
Enfolded in the very fabric,
We trudge across, frolic and sway.

Almighty pendulum of surrender,
flickering on the lake beset before us,
A sea, an ocean, the vacuum of space.
Dark; the color that mows the harvest

I have left my carcass,
withering, shriveled in the sun,
Bloated, floating in the seabed,
Carried away, eroded by evering wind,
Embodied, embraced in the flames of the pyre.

The true gift that we all share,
Is nothing,
Our mark of the time and space,
of our,
Moments,
Then this time,
Is everything.

Are hands enveloping one another?
Is there really a superior or just annihilation,
Human characteristic,
To be undoubtedly,
The strange and elated,
Co-exist with destructive and all consuming,
Fluorescent corpses live,
Bridging the gap,
The celestial brain of man,

It is hung,
like portraits,
Atrocities, Unfurled,
Achievements unbound,
Like a flash,
The hallway gave way,

Our Minds,
The evolved mind we all share,
Yet so ambled that in groups,
Tribalism,
The merits and true wit emerges,
Gathered around the madhouse flame,
Dancing hysterically into the night,
Naked, Barren, Diluted,
Then after some time,
People judged such acts of pure expression,
As not the norm,
It bared not conformity,
Altho, All this breathed from the same species,
We are not far from a re-conceived
Coliseum,
It all happened in an instant,
As the hallway broke away,
It left nothing in its wake,
This everlasting second,
This beacon in time,
Amounts to the cultivated,
"Truths"
We all interpret,
The Byproduct I,
Simply is all other things,
reacting to all other things,
Right now, the concept,
Someone is having a much different,
Interpretation,
Time, relatively,
Exists in its own vacuum,
Outside the Walls of the Hallway,
A being has exited one brief iota,

Justified and right were the means,
that had met the end,
All the waves that,
were lost beyond the bend,
Came round back again,
It all makes sense now,
All things obvious,
Lost in our perception,
Only a particle of the Cosmos,

I thought I'd get it out,
That the only thing to this,
Is to understand that for all of Thee,
There are many more,
And all that uniqueness,
In one moment,
Ubiquitous,
It wouldn't be lost,
Out there in Natural Wilderness...

The Ecuadorians sit languishingly in the stairwell,
Staring at their cell phones,
The bizarre circus of humanity is about to begin,
As I wade through the perpetual crowd,
To dive in the back,
To my unknown fate,
There are characters,
Waned and waxed figures,
They caress trinkets,
They ****** their egos,
They stretch their forlorned backs,
They stroke their everlasting devices,
They return day after day,
There I am,
Making due with the,
Space,
I’ll stand and see,
If being personable,
Really makes a difference.

If it doesn’t,
I shall be a hermit,
Permit,
I will delude to the hills,
To a town far away,
To the ocean,
To the many faces,
Torn from pages,
Of someone else’s yearbooks,
To the anonymity of pure intension,
I’ll curl on my back every night,
Waiting for the end,
Content in the bleakness,
For what’s the point anymore,
The rugs have been pulled,
Time and blood spilt,
Salvation waits in the word,
The solitary significance that,
Arises from the perfect form,
The daring unrest of the thought,
The silly unkempt ruling,
The turbulence of being,
Ripples across ages,
Hoping to hold dear,
The image so clear,
No matter foolish sages,
This was all just the ends to a mean.

There was a rolling hill,
The fog disappeared behind it,
As the sultry apparition floated,
Past the lamp post,
The striking flame of beauty,
Shone a-glimpsed,
Curtly,
Playfully,
Wistful,
Strolled onwards up the hill,
To gaze over the darkened grass,
The multitudes of inference,
The dazzling emptiness of night,
The peace of the buzzing insects,
Sweetly,
Softly,
Calmly,
All there was,
Was over that hill,
On the other side,
Waiting,
Breathing,
Tired,
The land stretched,
Ethereal ghosts played above,
In the clouds,
They shook loose the pinset,
The rush of water hit her face.

So this is what it’s come to?
Promises of a better outcome,
The reality is that you do it yourself,
Controlling forethought and expression,
I really believe it for the first time,
The ancestors have proven it,
Through the rings of the trees,
I feel free.

Thank the spirits, their great guidance,
Lifted by the years, carried by their woven wings,
Happening suddenly as some things do,
My worries alleviated,
Finally can feel something other than,
Menacing outrage,
Cornered worry.

We when  all have problems, but yours is the worst,
You’re in it to **** people over,
I stood up for you when no one else would
But seriously you’re the worst thing
That’s ever happened to me.

You say you love him now, but you don’t
Know what that means
You say you’re sorry
But you have no idea how wrong you were

To do what you did, only makes it certain
That there are so many other people
Better than you
Behind closed doors you hide afraid of confrontation
Because you’re so immature
Face value seems like a prize
On the inside you may think it’s alright
You really are a basket case.

Thank you
I haven't had
A burst
Like this
in a long time

It took some
getting used to
but now I see

I can't believe
what you said
and you
probably
think I'm an
*******

Seriously,
No grudges,
you aren't
worth the
trouble
of remembering
hope you have a good life
but
knowing you
you'll
probably
end up
worthless
and
alone

All of this sounds angry,
maybe because it is,
but I like it,
no anger,
Just retribution,
Your disease,
Is out of my heart

I feel reborn,
To hell with all the
Drama,
You brought it upon yourself
There's only one I can trust

What you do and did,
is unforgivable,
You think it's safe,
behind someone's back,
But I pulled the knife out,
turned around,
gave it a kiss
and threw it away.

All of this sounds angry,
maybe because it is,
but I like it,
no anger,
Just retribution,
Your disease,
Is out of my heart

I feel reborn,
To hell with all the
Drama,
You brought it upon yourself
There's only one I can trust

What you do and did,
is unforgivable,
You think it's safe,
behind someone's back,
But I pulled the knife out,
turned around,
gave it a kiss
and threw it away.

Mangled,
Silence,
To be heard again,
And again,
The same ruthless inquiry
Small talk instead,
of awkward silence

To be in this profession,
You must be crazy,
Or at least,
Live in a reality,
Equally as crazy

To think I wanted,
Mangled,
Silence,
For something so simple,
I hope things are easier from now on,
Or at least,
The silence doesn't build,
I'm safe in these walls,
And from now on,
Thinking about it,
Won't cause the same,
Fixation

Time to take a picture,
Of this beautiful scene,
Finally free,
Immortalized in these simple words

No more I say,
No more,
Until,
When I least expect it,
True love will finally,
Hit me

No more thinking why O why me?
No more fixating on a bad past,
No more having to fear the possible,
More embracing of the impossible.

To be brief and important,
Skids on the treads of a mind in motion,
Recovery only to be found,
After the jolt, after the fact,
Flowing in one direction and so,
Abruptly turned toward a new sight,
Feeble minded enough to question,
It all; or shut it all out,
Locked up and entertained by,
Simplicity and singularity

Wake up in the morning and I gotta tell ya,
Something’s going on.
Right down to the corner I’m bumpin some funk,
Something’s going on,
Straight up my leg to the breast plate,
My leg keeps jumpin to the beat rate.

Hands in my pockets givin head nods,
Don’t know where I’m off too,
Something’s going on,
But it’s where I haven’t been before.
Something’s going on,
Up in the sky the sun soar

Dontcha see what’s happenin here?
Something’s going on,
And wouldn’t you know you’re a part of it,
Something’s going on,
Just as I sail the streets and search,
Desperately I’ll find it one day,
Until then I’ll just sail on and know,
Something’s going on.

Not just a passing fancy,
What I really long for,
Right now and once in a hot and heavy while,
Is to be left in warm comatose,
Next to a breathing and living form,
Grateful to feel a comfort pleasure,
A heart heavy desire fulfilled,
Satisfied in yet wanting more,
Left there in warm comatose,
Stroking with a finger the brilliant cherry skin,
The lotus of sensuality spilling over the brim,
Cascading down in defiant decadence,
Leaving me in warm comatose,
My mouth would search and explore,
Discovering each new second with every sensation,
Realizing that each dawn is witnessed two fold
And that the only ones left are we,
Carelessly left in warm comatose.

What was meant by the shadow of night,
In the early man’s eyes what was meant by its darkness,
Impending doom and ominous grace,
Reveled and revealing,
Misunderstood through all time as something evil,

The great horns protrude through the whimsy,
Siphoning portions of animal instinct,
Fear the greatest export

Where is the fear of the blinding light,
That ignorant light that plagues the houses on the block
From every window flickers the flame
Television sets on sleep mode,
Movies set on the title menu playing over and over
While the sleeping body flails aimless in animated suspension,
Insomniacs accomplishing something trivial by reaching the next checkpoint,
Even the light of the candle burning as the neo-bohemian reads,

All looking out the window at the blaring buffoons ransacking the night,
Making love to the stars and howling at the moon,
Insanity and blindly causing the world’s collapse,
Laughing at the expense.

What was once thought of as meaningless,
This has become the pedestal,
It is now heralded as the voice of the generations,
Can it be so easy to corrupt,
Now a society watches in wait for what the end will bring,
Popcorn and soda in hand at overpriced locations near you,
We love to see how stupid we all are,
Talk show hosts hit the streets and ask them,
***** watching the tube laugh and criticize,
The mass media keeps us scared and uninformed,
We’d rather be socially accepted than question,
Socially unaccepted question, however important they may be,
Now people all over the world are fed up,
Revolution is sprouting clipped wings,
Still, as though the blinds are shut in the window,
The daily grind continues as if nothing is happening,
As if we are powerless and are obligated,
Drink your drug, don’t pay any attention to what that noise was,
It’ll all be over soon,
And you’ll soon understand what it meant to be,
Outside the cage, you’ll be second-class,
For the very first time, hard but free.
You couldn’t ask for more America,
If you don’t like the way things seem to be heading,
Do something about it, be heard, think of others,
Don’t let anyone stop you and take care,
It’s perfectly acceptable now to hate ignorance,
We can now prefer to search for the soul,
Rather than the TV guide,
We can now talk about things that matter,
Rather than the latest re-make of a movie,
We now have the power to abort the path,
That ignorant, fat, rich aristocratic liars have led,
We’re going to blaze our own trail,
In the name of the past intellects that now shutter,
Let’s get back to it.

When was it but in this moment,
When I was here and there,
Right here in this moment,
Where it didn’t count anymore,
Walked around in circles,
All the same
Right here in this moment.

Curse you for Giving me nothing but pleasure,
For the minute Pain that helped,
In its gruesome, ugly intesity,
True dianetic energy magnitude,
Was a droplet compared to the,
Ocean of tranquil pleasure

Left standing in the overpass of a great shadow,
It seems that This opens more doors,
Not shutting them all
But the one that I would re-open,
It’s hard to hear it’s locked now.

Why am I doing this?
Is it to somehow appeal?
Having a deep desire to,
Be exposed and living,
With many bland and empty arrogances,
Somehow it’ll be different with me,

Then when all is out there,
Did it make a difference,
Constant grief for the,
Great Thought that got away,

Why do I do this chant,
It all comes out as static,
What for are those,
Playing accursedly with loud dentures,
Flapping gums,
Getting points across,
Raising eyebrows,
Glancing back at what’s just gone,
Then, by will, carry one.

Feel the dream coming through,
Let it please be true,
Silently granules fall,
Between myself and the hall,
Let the bubbling not come afloat,
Burst and that’s the last thing I wrote.

Without no clout,
Is it al we’re here to do,
Passersby in the doorway,
Don’t even say hello,

Leave without a word,
Is everyone so strange,
That the silence,
Becomes normal,

You’re too sensitive,
You just wouldn’t understand,
The plight,
Of living without a clout,
A nameless face,
Standing on the edge,
Looking down and seeing,
What the hell am I trying to see,
If not for the immensity of self,
I’d extinguish,
Is there some way to make you,
Understand the plight,
Of living without flight,
A nameless being trapped inside,
A conscious reliving,
Retelling of someone else’s life,
This is not me talking at all,
This is not the world moving past,
This is just the untouchable,
Reaching out,
For something of substance,
I hope you understand,
I plead that I don’t offend,
To live without a clout is hard,
To live in the clouds,
In the mountains,
A hermit permit,
Something of a dream,
With colored horizons to dine on,
With sympathetic ears on the wind,
With simple living it is much harder,
To feel the humdrum doldrums of,
Mild, dramatic existence,
Meandering,
Wandering like an aesetic,
Draped in holy flesh,
Constantly revolving around the same players,
The same feelings,
That are never the same,
Trying to find the words to say,
To make it all worth while,
To stop and say wait,
This was all just for this.

Did you ever wonder why
clouds drift in the sky
have you ever felt the touch
filled up and throttled,
sombre like a key.
Did you ever see the rising tide,
reach past the mountainside,
has it ever made it past,
cast and crass,
would you ever be the same?