Blissful silence in the dark
Breathing sounds could be heard from afar
As i got closer it got louder
In the pitch black room
All around me was darkness
The breathing got rougher and louder
With a mourn mixed in here and there....
I could feel strength leaving my body
Daring myself to move closer


In the pitch black room
I could make out figures
Looking like an enormous beast
Devouring its prey
Swallowing it whole
I lost the strength to run
Or scream
A shouting heart jolting my trans mind
Like a rolling rock on a steep *****
I Moved forward


In the pitch black room
Right in-front of me ......
A scene i couldn't fathom
Two silhouettes panting and mourning
Even without a clear picture
Even without the sound
One couldn't help but swallow a mouthful
Of saliva
This hunger inducing scene played out
As my heart started racing
A bright light flashed blinding me


In a now bright room
The two seemed unaffected
Like the illumination from the light
Wasn't visible to them
I could clearly see a figure
A figure so thirst inducing
One could mistaken it for aphrodite
And wen she mourned
A sweet melody
Compared to that of the music of apollo
Lost in the beauty of this beauty
And the melody she was creating
I heard a name
As she said it again
I opened my eyes


Opening my eyes to gaze into hers
They seemed to blaze with a flame
One that felt inextinguishable
One that would devour any soul that came close
This beautiful yet dangerous flame
I knew if i went close there is no coming back
Yet a deep sense of belonging came from within
A cold yet familiar sensation was flowing through me
She moved her down my chest
As it moved i felt it.....
For the first time
Pure craving
Like an electric current running thru me
Leaving chaos in its wake


Like a drum-roll
My heart cried out
With it melting the cold sensation
Like a beast unleashed
My body was brimming with strength
Moving my hands towards her
Like a black hole
Like Jormungand
Every cell in me was screaming
Shouting
And scratching
Trying to heed her call
Getting ready to devour her
Swallow her whole
N show her how deep the abyss went

you wanna be happy dontcha?
Not 'till I reach the state of Anhedonia
never heard a such place.
Well I guess that you've been blessed
Good cheer and health, good taste I guess
Seems Old Man your way's the best
But I wasn't taught the same
and i know you're not to blame
What the hell is it that it makes grown men drool
Well it's not the Bright Side but The Dark Side of The Spoon.
Blissfull Bafoons The Beguiled, miscreant, Fiendish Fools.
Dim Lit hid in Vastness of the last Lunar New Moon
Beg that you see and awaken. You and every one else awaken too.
how good does it feel to fly above ridicule?*
Gimmie some money and ill show you old fool

As I sit here on this quiet night,
The air is finally cool.
The sky is dark,
That same air moist; smelling fresh and new.
Lightning dances 'cross the sky, flashing ever bright.
I see it's full of stories to tell
Some a mystery, yet some I know well.
The only sounds emitted are from the creatures of the night
Singing a song for the rain that has gone,
For the lightning dancing- ever bright.
As has become my custom, I wonder, if you were here,
What would you have to say about
This lightning dance so clear?
So easily can I imagine us sitting in this night
Whispering and cuddling- the lightning ever bright.
Then, just as quick as that lightning's dance,
A thought flashes through my brain.
Unsure of the answer, even afraid,
I wonder all the same,
If you would think of me (as I do you)
On blissfull nights of peace.
I can't say you would, so I struggle for the thought to cease.
On a quiet night like this,
Who would dance across your mind?
When the rain has gone, and the air finally cool,
Lets lightning dance 'cross the sky.

Information Required Order 38582 Moonshine Makin's

I intend to use this order to test
the viability of an herbal extracting service for local gardeners.
If there is interest
and our trials prove commercial, the methods
will be posted publicly, methodic.

The intended customer base is the home canning and preserving enthusiast, ****** societies, 'n'such.

Now, the pod cast, statement of use. Right, of course.
Right use is to be made of all the time we wish, and we wish to share the method we use.
With youse.
Here's my idea, at the moment

nothin,

then I hear this guy who got famous in the seventies,
in such a way that I would have known.
Had I been on the same planet
during the Seventies
and half the eighties.

Terrence McKenna, right. If I had survived 1970,
and things had been well positioned for that to have happened,
had I not...

What did we do, my strange friends, or was I the only one who does remember my last sane thought? Actually,

I don't. And then, I do. Quasar-ic-ish-ly.

An edit or two could change every thing,
imagine this Terrence
McKenna taught "Authentic Being" a sort, or class, of being,
very high and good.

We teach being authentic.

Being a being's been being a while,

upon multiple instants of
a time, best'n'worse, full'n'empty, war'n'peace

(i'sgottabeat)

yet never is hope absensed. Any time I tell a story,
hope springs eternal, soon

soon the old fool will see No one is listening, and wink.

No one and the fool have friended
upon such times as these,
No two, as well, (seedawink)
to a far lesser degree, ye may see.
Secret secret secret knowledge, gnosis, donchaknow,

is same as sacred, yes, yes, it is, sacred made, made sacred, samesame that's the game... secret

I am in me,me ni ma I
Magic Ab-io-alchemical Hermitical Heretic, am I. Spirit. Muse?

Are we lost? No. We are wiser than we were.
By any measure.

A statement of use for that we wish to take, once it is granted. What's the use? We stuck not knowin, right?

Wait, I have a chit
"All things pertaining to life and godliness have been given thee." Got that at VBS, by God.

Really, we are treading on Bunyan's tale? We escape the Giant Despond on a promise of a promise?

Yes,
seems so. So little is different. The road, seen rocky three decades ago, or so, now, it's

bricks, silicon bricks, I recon they been doped, ye ken?
Some ol loswoids crosswise need gold ducts to flow
past the reflective edge, where we saw that Mckenna

outright lie.
He did. Damright. Said Paradise was opened by the door that shut Eden, but he said that

Like it was a bad thing.
Jesus Christ, if he missed the whole reason there is a Bible and a Jesus in it, who is gone gowon his testified
psyc-hellic oppositio cunjunct-ifitis trip?

So, I missed the seventies,
as if I were flying from LA at forty k and I go on by, to land in 1985, after fifteen years enculturated to believe a not-so-complex,
on the surface, lie.

Truth has a strange mercurial 'spect,
all the light that can be reflected is reflected in mercury, see,
the edge twixt yinanyang, dang,

as far as we can see, tho'

we can't really even see HD, but
it seems better.

Reflecting on an idea is blissfull, but that's not the reason.

You speak of love
Yet its lust you seek
Invigorice longing
You fall to your knees
Wanting one thing
Craving sensuality
Fulfillment lacking
You forget to breathe
Rising again
Into blissfull glee
Then once again
You collapse into me

Blissfull in blues,
And moral decline,
Kissing deeply,
Making you want me,
Completely everytime.

Faithless and new,
Moving subtly in time.
Possessing desperately,
Making you need me,
Unconditionally mine.

Endless and bound,
Together like rhyme.
Holding tightly,
Making you love me.
In union for ever we shine.

I went into the DeepWell this morning for another kinda,
wake up cup more like trying to be with some things need simmering down,
for the flames are bright and looking hot but but but warm and so soothing,
ooohing aaaahining awwwwweing inspiring rather blissfull kissfull blissing,
kissing idk bout hi'way 61 but for of you bro I know about your kitchen!!!!

Anywhohow way idk if I had much a drink at all with wake up or simmer down,
nor a nibble though some things are clear once in a blue year;

IDK like what's going on, down up once in a while or my preferred self setting dip flip switch's,
hahaha but reads are packing and that's good;

having to get back to too many responses 'um think 'bout the president,
the few who get through and we see a few presentations that should all be heard 'n seen too;

for I know we're all just blood bearing beings, counting on air,
but my cabinet I'm all of 'em unless you have more to say speak on this now;

staff, budget, readers, recorders, playback digitizers self routing pouting deciders,
all kinds of chaos chasers 'um not got;

I know so like all here 'um wat's wit dis cat;

what's he working three jobs or three wives 9 kids twelve ways;

nah not a drop so to say exactly 'dat way no more got a few getting on,
where I was and they was already born;

I'm thinking metaphysical then overly scrutinal to be careful both ways and wise,
she-it I can do more da better than a two way street try me I like 8's and 9's,
I lay all out there b4hand dey way den 'um say cats don't won't can't,
what ya ever think I've ever seen any reciprocity;

yah Solomon here we're working laughing crying all;

saw that movie "Anna Karenina" Leo Tolstoy novel base,
ya know the 'precious' 'Lord of the Rings' these sort of 'um things,
JC said along at least the 'Greatest b4 me Solomon' two kinds of exemplar,
(easy SO SO Bud Bud chill!!) one get demons off mans poor missions and happily,
doing 'Gods' love yet 'um well, I talk about these things with blood bearing beings,
I'm not even taking temperature into consideration;

just that I hear know 'dis 'da place gotta do 'da be greater things;

everybody knows Solomon a key why how hum 'um what ya kidding again,
oh so far off out heavy or fairy dust to me man, guess coming all together like JC,
just a bit may be out beyond such ganders of wonders what feelings lost looking down,
the land your feet are even upon, 'um man what about's;

'I'll be your solution if you'll be my remedy';

how does solution need remedy when they just bleed warm red blood a bit too bluish,
what if I say we need 'em all, does 'dat rhyme a chime of too like greedy who what me'eedy;

what ya want to "Possess Me!!!???"
hahahah !!!!<3<3##:):)!!!R

I just wanted to hit dat punchline while I was really in the middle,
but I do have a poem 'The Middle Riddle (in medias res)',

"When the middle is...
just right, there will be no will...towards an ending...!!!";

so back where we're we before the mention, no introductions say already too far gone,
as a wife would have to be  able to have an introduction of such a silly notion no more;

re: refer to as; X'yzzzzzleeeeping;

with that illegally separated easier straighter to say Fb have not figged 'dat one up yet,
Solomon is calling 'em up everyday/night;

let me tell ya man of the woes of Solomon and to me I coined the phrase myself,
so I Google'd it up, for I just thought those cats yonder dare' might have downloaded,
my brain and some well of it's keys and you've got the rest better;

know now I understand it's out there by book, I don't dare look yet before it's clear,
who wrote that stuff and I'll tell by what it won't, by omissions, excessive unwarranted permissions,
I'm wondering, I scan the great collections, not so invasive of more personally assured permissions,
there were days where there were a hand full of very warm open hopeful receptive set of beings,
along some tour that said go west as I was east and by a rather large pond;

do I need go on here now,
I start your clock too 'den what,
I'll get nine codes running inside out,
backwards inside of you,
'den just what can ya do!!!

There is one who is sunlit
  Potent as the jade-green sea
    Inhaling blissfull birdsong
     Exhaling ancient threnodies        
      Years of headlights, rainsoaked
       Highways: miles under desert
        Sun. copper-skinned she's spells 
          To sing with lips love letter soft
           She writes cataclysmic sonnets
           Without using words.
            Unabridged Resolute
             Her asthetic purely Lunar
             He tries to match her
             Inhale to inhale
            Exhale to exhale
           But he is a corpse
          Buried in black soil
        Roots to wrap and swallow him
      Crushing the soul from his bones
     Cursed then to wander mountains
   And watch her rest weary legs as she
  Drinks deeply from Aquarius

Follow lights the will-o-wisps
To red lights onto pillow slips
Walk under streetlight to pink lips

Everyone after green glow
Even if it means being a ***
J.Gatsby's after the afterglow

Peddlin their product, street vendors
Dealin in meat and being tender
****** in a backseat, body lenders

Crafting blissfull afterglow and after glow
Some call it sinful so callow although
Most aren't so shallow, chill in a bordello

Red lights swimmin in the air
Sanctity dyin without care
For sale tittys and derriere

you know that guy you tell him you love him.
you know that feeling you get when you say it. that golden bliss. them moments when you are laying with him and you cant help but to smile because your so happy laying in his arms.
the flash of colors you see when he touches your skin.
smile he gives you when he i being adorable
he is some kinda merical even if he dont know it
when you fall for him unexspectedly.
when you finally realize he is the one
that is the day you will be BLISSFULLY happy

its always sunrise
somewhere

things move in every atoms presence
tonal vibrations power through into tmorows
certian serenity

blissfull melodies
we die daily in our meditational  cremation ground of  minds past eye had been cast upon building up
or down

spiral, the.sine curve of life
respect the crecendos with ease
the patterns are flexible in form shape and mind

Waves crash over me
As the fish swim and I sink
Weightless and blissfull

I swim up above
Wrapped in sea foam and seaweed
My world is at peace

Lay down your arms and hold completely defenseless,
Love yourself with a deep desperation blissfull and limitless.
Let the moment wake your tears,
And live with me all of your torturous fears.

Lay yet closer so our lips barely part,
Hold my hand as if nursing your own heavy heart,
Take from me all you need to rebuild,
All the life that lonliness has killed.

My beauty my love my absent harmony,
You have consumed and taken the very last part of me,
No longer do your hands hold the fractures,
That re-break and tear without loves raptures.

Naked and used my lips are cold,
and after these years you've left me old,
Wrinkles creep on every canvas,
Till they like you consume all the paint.
No beauty no rhymes that convey completion,
Just left alone and dejected used till depletion.

Submissions to the Annual Musical Torture Experiment for 2017 are officially open!

Submit your five songs by emailing them to
TorturePlaylist@gmail.com

"BUT WHAT IS THE MUSICAL TORTURE EXPERIMENT NICK?"

Well me, I'm glad you asked.
The Musical Torture Experiment was started in 2013 by yours truely, Nicholas R Coulombe.
Where I asked everyone I knew, met, or saw on the street, to hand me 5 songs that I would add to one playlist,
listen to that playlist on a loop
AND NO OTHER MUSIC
for an entire month.

I have continued this tradition each year
recruiting Willing victims & voulenteers
to listen along with me.

These victims have many different lives, interests, and genre preferences,
but there is one thing they all have in common.

The blissfull escapism of living in their headphones.

This gaggle of Tune-heads who use their music as a fundamental life resource, a coping mechanism, an escapist fantasy or meditation.
These people offer their body and spirit to music.

Now, for a whole month, they are relinquishing control of their music.

Shotgun no longer shuts their piehole.

For an entire month.
Listeners will not be able to skip or select any music other than
YOUR SUBMISSIONS!

This is the perfect opportunity to force someone to really find whats so amazing about those artists we culturally hate.
Or maybe theirs an oldy that your grandkids Refuse to consider music because there is static or twangy voices instead of bass drops.

Maybe you talk about your love of skrillex and a hipster spits their kombucha in your face.

If you have songs that DESERVE the light of day.
This is your chance to indulge in their exhibition.

want to voulenteer yourself as tribute to listen along with these crazy *******?
keep tabs on what is being added cause you think its kinda interesting?
Or contribute YOUR five songs?

Just
Send an email to TorturePlaylist@gmail.com
by the end of August to participate!

Go check out the playlist itself here:

https://open.spotify.com/user/124409443/playlist/2TAdzDUKx7sfW1uJrqMS7K

Honestly, I was paralysed
Quick breathed, chest choking kind
That numbs to the tips of fingers
And the bottom of the heart,
Feet spread wide apart as if I ever stood a chance of taking the blow.
Its stings,
bleary eyed I'm blinking and rubbing at the skin, massage the redness away;
All that nasty shame and the ridiculous burn of guilt
That has me wilting round my shadow.
I think I might have seen something,
Hints bleeding into the beauty of blissfull ignorance and dulling the gleam,
Blinkers just a little skew-wiff
To let the light in and shine on your bare ***
Going to town between someone else's legs.
You dont look half as nice now,
Your flesh is pale and hair curls darkly
And its gross, like those meaty moans
That make you sound like a boar.
I can't call her a *****, not really,
But shes enjoying herself with the lie of one
Screaming obscenities to God
As if hed take time out of his
Busy schedule to fulfil her voyeristic fantasies,
Deity bowing his head to watch
You smash into her and smash us to pieces.
You're shuddering and shes faking those screams
There"s no glee in her eyes, just the simpering emptiness of making you feel like a man.
But your not, you're a coward
Who's **** is fond of flattery,
chases it like a puppy, perking up hopefully to be petted.
I dont think I'm upset anymore.
I'm out the door and rain falls cool on the ground
I'm crunching down the gravel,
shedding my committment,
It's has a satisfying sound that dies
Beaneath my boot as you stumble after me.
'It's not what you think'
It's funny because I honestly
Hadn't thought anything except
I'd never never seem you like that before;
Not so raw and pasty
And ugly.
Maybe you'll meander back into my mind
As divine as you have been before
But right now I deplore the memory.
I dont love you
Because I dont know who you are.

Your arms around me,
I drift away,
Into blissfull blissful sleep.
Your arms my saftey net,
Holding me tight
Throughout the night.
What would I do without you?

Lost in the moment but always weary,
Of these lines we've drawn so weak and dreary.
Feeling so strong but all to open,
Praying for luck to bring me no omens.

Im waiting for the day it hurts me,
Heart torn and tears a plenty,
Blissfull with the here and now,
So pure so innocent unbound or captured by any vow.

i can't.
when trimming the calico hairs on skinly jaw.
like trip-hop leaching out of your pearly *******:
like magic-jesus.
with porcelain around her
animal seeds.
where i can find:
the swirling of Listerine flushing down the side of your throat.
like swabbing for cells from the floor of your tongue

like swapping girls.
or
(like) picnicking       deep inside
flower-bait.blue
trilling Gatorade apology/  
simulating love.

and even now. inside the folds of dead house plants  
i would be okay if you stained my teeth
with anything
you
had
to offer.
horse-whole in the water-
milky for you-
white as cuticles.

like the /**** me/ hum of the A/V cart
hooked up and left running:
nothing.
stuffy
in the boxed we built

i am more perfect than camouflage
like pipilotti rist screaming her lungs to pale ribbons.
as kimono as Kiki was real
she- as brave as anything

i found it out.
as fragrant as
the deepest rooted thing-
blissfull as the afternoon.
as
red
as good cadmium.
and that is ******* red

.

Come down off your poem
long days have all gone
Somebody you can hear is calling

Running deep the river bends
moving on with amens
Some things just keep on gnawing

The winter will be ice
I'll get relief at last
When I lay under blankets of snow

All those days once before
Memories rich and poor
There just to let you know

I can see the greens of spring
Summer's blissfull loving thing
Still I hear the mournful call of winter

Come down off your poem
Leave your words as you were born
The river has frozen over

Won't feel him stay
start to change
Just a poster taped to blame
Only see him float away

Good luck trying to play nice
It doesn't seem very likely these days
With all the kids pop lock and dropping dead
gunned down un a club
Astronauts getting high
The worlds gone to ****.
This post apocalyptic monstrousaty we call mother earth
a flea on the cat of perspective.
Projecter onto a sphere we call planet
Every tree a hologram
Color refracted light
Light my cigarette 
see a small spark of reality burn out.
Inhale some air that has no color.
Proof of it's existence
Blocking the color shot at your retnas
Burn your retnas.
Burn them On the sun
stare at it till you blind yourself
Take those happy pills
Don't ever forget the days you don't  remember
quiet warm days,
sounds but never understanding
just blissfull floating
lit until you pop and cry.
Don't let yourself pop.
Stay curled up
Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.

If the world fades into darkness who will hold my lonesome hand
Who will sweep me off my feet to swing and dance across the land
If the clouds fall down and the rain comes knocking upon my weathered door
Who will tell me I'm okay--and if tomorow doesn't come, then whats forever for?
I'll hold my breath and cross my fingers tight across my chest
The world can take away from me whatever it can steal, but stolen was my heart already--therefore I cannot feel
The darkness that surrounds me, I know it very well
and if I hide away from the light I'll never know the sight
A baby crying down the hall, or lovers in a blissfull state
I cannot feel the life I missed and no matter how I try
the light's always just a step away from my line of veiw
I'll never see that light again unless I hold again what's true
A love so strong and passionate, the years just travel by
but lovers know just how they feel--even if they chose to lie

I feel as though
I could sink below this Cobblestone
and lay forever among these rocks.
That have been pounded
so hard by the tide
they were brave enough to become smooth.

Adapting to roll along blissfull waters,
until imprisoned here
among the urban shore.

I envy these soft stones.
Cemented in their purpose.
I relate to the chips on the rocks,
unable to bare the new pressures
of high heels and loafers.

I too feel imprisoned in this pressure,
I too feel the cracks on my surface forming.

My unrequited love
has always been a constant mess,
of so many things together
the lies,
the truths,
the tender wounds,
the broken heart,
the jealous heart,
the unspoken tears,
the unforgettable moments,
the broken promises,
the hidden care,
the blissfull warmth,
And you.

I was a sinner
And made you my saint

Out of breath and so in love
It surprised me you didn't faint

Your body on top of mine
While outside it rained

For those few delicious, blissfull minutes
All our pain was drained.

Its been a long time,
since we recited together
the same rhyme !!!

The rhyme, that was not a ****,
nor a tale to repeat.
It never was a crapp,
meant for the people's clapp !!!

Though sometimes, u held on high
nd I...on low.
And no matter how slow...,
our frequency of recitation
was always the same !!!

The blissfull days...i still remember
when joy showered.....
yeah.....like the rain of, November.
:P   :P

But you know , the rhyme isn't complete
and it needs you again
for the retweet  ^_^

Is it normal
                  To not know where to go..??
Is it normal
                  Sometimes to lose control...??
Is it normal
                  Being reserved for yourself.??
Is it normal
                    Being such a mess.??
Is it normal
                   Being not perfect??
Is it normal
                    Sometimes to procrastinate??
Is it normal
                     To lose hope??
Is it normal
                     To stay all alone??
Is it normal
                    To close eyes along with the ears..  and not to see and hear what they do n say...??
Is it normal
                     Being child again.. living in the fantasy world .. believing magic and Fay again??
Is it normal
                     To run away.. when everything goes out of control??
Is it normal
                      Sometimes to hide your feelings and sometimes crying like babies??
Is it normal
                      Sometimes not to work by the plans??
Is it normal
                         Sometimes not to run parallel to the hands of the
    clock??
Is it normal
                   To fall in love with the silent and endless nights more than the blissfull dawns...???
Is it normal
                       to love just who u are...!!!

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

At the eve of another summer
I found myself in a Paradox
Longing to painfully suffer
due to a beloved lost vox.

The greatest pain for the greatest joy,
quite the paradoxical alloy.
For a voice to be pandora's box,
fate of the shattered heart boy.

The promised call, refused in past,
For no heart could possibly endure,
is steadily approaching, at long last,
to ellicit a heart-rending overture.

An opera of pouring pain.
Even the sad tears cry in pain,
but everything cries in vain,
for her heart was washed by rain,
and will never be mine again.

The ambrosia out of reach.
Its scent alone is enough,
to relive blissfull memories
and dreams of a future... a bluff.

A world where you're next to me,
but i'm forbidden to hug, kiss
or tell you i love you more than life,
is not my world, but Tartarus itself

In my world it had a simple name:
forgivable human confusion,
led by pressures, human, all the same,
inconsequential to our passion,
once ours, now mine.

Our worlds shan't collide
in any future fate.
Your friendship i must decline,
to be reborn and not desintegrate.

The green hills of my heart,
the blue ocean of my eyes,
the starry sky of my mind,
the nature masterpiece of my soul... Is gone.

All that remains is a heavy chest,
containing Schrondinger's heart,
with a decaying undead hope,
to both reunite and forever stay apart.