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POSSIBLE Apr 2016
Change my blood into gold
Elixer of life
A toked up martyr
  I must be philosopher ******

to be
so magical I transform change
the same I re-arrange
invert thought bubbles to elipse to make a circle out of cyst

Wand and Air
like pen and paper
convert the blank page to the strange
till the shoobies get ****** at the deviant sage

Hidden , covered by enigma...

Sometimes I write so hard I might just
Rip ya like paper
the message of saviors,
so heavy it topples the rules
like when the they drop bass in a rave yah

but treble not in ear sight,
As it breaks the music can also protect
what an insight.

Quarel with myself a couple times
like Quicksilver and sulfur

Purification
dissolution
death
and ressurection
dissolve and let loose
the fatal connections


Become alchemist like a potter and turn the clay to a vessel

IGNITE THE SPIRIT LEVEL
OVERCOME THE STRESSFUL
NIGREDO
ALBEDO
RUBEDO
Paul Goring Feb 2012
I’ll meet you
in the elipse
between
and joining
our separate lives

In the shaded area
the convenient space
mostly unoccupied
that is both of us
yet neither

At the intersection
of our spheres
where we can share
our unique combination
in the world
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
This depression gives the impression

that the expression of a burnout is…

me

living and loving intently free

prison depends on jailhouse babies and legal **** ; weee!

we must organize expression of a quantum size, to re-realize more food and supplies

its such a surprise that id be thinkin this, engineering instruments with a pnuematic hiss

geared towards the questioned technocolypse….

“…well here on the graph we read an elipse, a parabola, and a demonic kiss…”

But whats this?

im’ channeling some quick quips ; alluring as a brothel’s contained hips with the open smile of sideways lips….

my daring is preparing all the world for destructive repairing

cause the frogs and the rains are staring

at this desolate earth

a burnt out hearth

with smouldering ashes, speaking of a crying birth

while the midwife is sick and shy with little self worth and curse; because a as a witch she doth rehearse

while the moonlights smiling and the phones texting and dialing

“Whats wrong?”==”Are you ok?”

“…but come on?”==”Is there any other way?…”

[please oh please let me stay in this old and bloodied fray; where the battles had axes and handles

where there were stories of travels, to faraway places leading to exotic geographic stasis]

caught in the moment of thought, a moment of fright…

until we stop and put a light to these wierd words

we wont know what the birds have heard….

Click crshhh….*

BURN little match like the wood you are!

combustion of suggestion set ablaze from afar

a flame throwers burned hands

while the pained sower , frustrated, changes plans

because in the end one one really understands

the torment of a floment spent eternally alone in atonement.

(=purgatory)

Where all you want to do is get on the phone, external validation felt at the tone,

but it really ain’t ****

because you are crying while its dialing and your out of minutes…

so check this bits of imaginary meaning and ****

ponder and quit

when you seek to make amends and introduce fake men to our imaginary friends

i keep on thinking…keep on blinking

wishing for emotion to extend

SO I think the words

AND I write whats heard

but haven’t YOU heard

from the little ittie birdie whos been certainly flying, singing and free

that im not mentaly sturdy, quirky, and ******…

LOGICALLY

iknow

sophistry

ishow

emotionally

Hol…………­……………loW

I guess it just goes to show that when you at home your never reallly  alone, because to you, the voices do drone
about

how much sandpaintings and ***** can be blown,….

away with a CLICK…BoooM

beaten with a stick….AH

shoed a away with a kick….

START my heart! I know better than this!

so I better think quick

before i stay mentally sick

as an alien who has forgotten it’s world

got on a roller coaster; spinned and whirled

till im spun and twirl’d

on this game we call life, with simple **** and complex hype,

hives of concepts meanings and thoughts….to derive daily quit failing

i miss haley :( , even phailee….

so I ask little voice in my head , since everyone has left will you stay instead?

come a little closer and hop into bed

so we can share the warmth of one last self-referencing infinity loop….

…..BEFORE i wake up and forget whats ashore

because im out at dream sea with clouds free and galore

but as soon as i stop thinking i know ill return to the me that i abhore

with pain and saddness deranged

omit school so classless and strange

as a failed out actress sick with mange.

but i know these negatvie moments are just flashes , to make me appreciate self motivated happiness…

so here you go

its me on the page, skelly the sage….

i just hope to god that I could set the stage 4 nirvana or heaven, we reach zion in seven

6

5

4

3

2

1

I love you.

Its over

i won myself over

like a sad kids redrover

thanks for letting  m3 share these freestyle thoughts i kant bear

im  alone no more, i seem to have exhausted my sadness store

and after venting i realize…. its a lot ******* bettor.

“Isn’t it eeeire howletting yourself feel sad

can make you feel soo much better?”
brianprince Feb 2017
i meant (italicized)
to commit
to many things.

i meant (underlined)
to submit to
my authority.

obligation.
restriction.
(pause) deterioration.

i go over the
f o r m u l a
over and
(caps) over

again. one
that no (bold) one
looks at.

but me (underlined).
accepting what i see.
some form of (italicized)

rotary dial coin slot skipping cd broken sink peanut
butter and jelly crust click push breathe particles
layered dust on the window sill.

commited to a mental
institution (meant to).
middle eastern tradition.

no variety (elipse) —sonic boom—
no room for parady (italics) commit
suicide.

a process according
to the scribbles
of man.

and a pattern that
absolutely
nothing
amounts
to (period).
Zion Ashley Mar 2014
You say you're a slave to my lips
Wondering when this tongue of mine turned to a whip
Drunk in love?
Then off you I've taken a sip
Terrified of hurting you
The expectations you are I want to fill
Knowing I can't
You know my whole story
Every coma
Every period
Every elipse
fragmented sentence of a thought in this fragmented dependent sentence that is who I am
That is my life
Each day, a wonderful dreams takes hold. It surfaces into my consciousness and spans upon its horizons. I become the sun, and she, the moon. We both exist, floating and wavering and become concerned with our lives. Our relationship is stable; or at least I like to think so. I provide the strength and the light, she provides the beauty and mirrors my colors into something more spectacular. When we kiss, that is our eclipse. When we die, we give our passions to another; and our roles change. I know my place in this universe, and she's still searching. That's why she orbits and rotates in an elipse. She knows not where she's going or how she's gotten through where she's been. I want to be the one to expound my light onto her, the way she does for me to this world; and I want nothing more, than to make that crescent smile a full moon laugh.
*latin for "four"
I continuously wanted this series to continue so I decided to keep it going after all (:
because i found a fusion of a people of the Hebrews: and Chinese Zhuangzhi atheism like the anaesthetic of being privy: to the heavenly experience... being a conversational vanguard of: proposing gimmicks... theomatoid arthritis of riciule, sarcasm: the only worhsip of humor and transcendence that can counteract the origins of humor with slapstick and by the aid of silence... i watch movies and i'm dying to see, i'm dying to see Deadpool v Wolverine... so i'm watching other movies... and i'm loving the Ryan Reynold's type of humor and my cat stretches and callibrates gymnastics in his sleep: then sort of wakes and munches on ghosts... why are the archetypes of men in modern movies so airy'ear'dough: weird?! so nice so weak so awkward and almost wheelchair bound hopeless with no Prof Xavier mountain of collapse and telepathy...

so today i watched... hmm...
i was waiting for my mother's medical supplies:
how, the ****,
can i hurt you: being 7000 miles away
and like 11 ******* hours
this strain is completing me...
i watched... Notting Hill...
the Mask...
a Syd Barrett documentary...
and something else...
new concept: an 8 day week...
4 shifts on 4 shifts off
or days
night shifts
and i think:
is work ever a drudgery...
or is perhaps religion?
work you must do
religion you may practice...
53min
Romford to Liverpool St
29min...
or the quickened Anglican train
from Southend Victroria...
then a 7min walk to Moorgate...
Northern line to Elephant and Castle:
sound London:
Millwall territory...

HUEL plant protein ingestion:
there are known to be protein alien
absorbers of motions
i've seen them in houseplants
that i forgot to water
they made me hallucinate with
movement...
HUEL: German based plant based
protein substitute
banana shake:
pees beans and Pythagoras..
i love the idea of petting cats...
but the problem is:
eating them is taboo.. no?!

lit a candle: didn't bother buying flowers:
instead bought milk:
which she persuaded me
to get a night guard clamp
and drink oat milk
and lactose free
oh wow that O and wheel...

summer is over the plants the botanical
revision clepsydra of
epilepsy this elipse
is coming round to the haunt of autumn
that's unlike summer
autumn married summer
and spring parried winter
and all the seasons were lost
to the globalised argument
of hegemony and the globalist affair:
but how the seasons married
and were no longer the four seaons
of God...

the American Jesus is not the European
Jesus is no not in the least:
the Roman Catholic:
if under the platter of a shade of ******
empowerment:
the Roman Catholic Church is the Church
of the Mother and Child:
the passion chimera of the ****** birth:
now...
build me a Church in Honor of Joseph!
show me Joseph teaching
Jesus the skills of carpentry before
he broke down and the spirits
called him and he went out into the world:
this poor dyslexic caligraphy
not quiet Socrates not giving a ****
because of old age:
i was born yesteday: let me inquire
about, Christianity...
god loves me?
so why does he punish me and allows
others to explore their counterfeits
of teasing evil
without actually knowing the true beauty
of the evil beyond the serpents
in tapeworms in parasites:
Satanic Project 2.0
no longer two serpents quarreling:
just a sack of worms!
with the aid of worms:
i will **** out that apple into a ****!
and give you the baron fruit
above good and evil:
i will tell you not of the knowledge:
but the wisdom to tell apart
sadness from happiness...
i will tell you something beyond a mere quench
of intellect when one becomes
high and drunk:
i will tell you of the difference
between sadness and happiness:
i will tell you man as Euphoria
and woman as Carthritis...
i will tell you that there is no good and evil
only the monstrosity of the grey
of day of England's September promise
of an Indian Summer...
that i will tell...

Species... introducing these two blondes
like horses for my carriage awaits...
such cheap special effects
it's lament: oh too late...
thinking about Alien: singular: masculine...
and Species: plural: feminine...
you really want to bother me out of my sleep?
my surf?
4 x 12h night shifts...
my first, earliest memory:
was of my great-grandfather being a steward
of a nursery place:
two pianos: a shadow:
building blocks...
then on my days off i will be engineering
a revision of the Colliseum...
and you are the woman
who made this hermit freed from love
wake up from slumber in his 20s...
i am quiet equipped the Chinese revelation
was simply for me: the "pandemic"...

i will pass my theory driving license
and finish off vol 6 of Kierkegaard's mangum opus
on these shifts:
if i'm not with you by Christmas...
i can only think:
you straightened out my life...
and for that you keep calling me friend...
xombie: 7000 miles and 11h away
if were weren't moving...
but are moving...
because the moon says: TIDE!
and the tides come... and the earth is drowning
in an absence of relatibility...

DAJJEH... dajjal...
i was thinking of the upside down Y and i came
across only the Greek Lambda: the Y inverted:
strange variation of thinking
about the Tetragrammaton:
LYH...
the way of Man's thinking: Yah...
the way of Woman's being: Weh...
i'm sorry: why do we have this prison of
Jesus-Mohammad these oprhans
these religious Orpheuses
these miasmas...
can't see the Jesus-Mohammad collaboration?
i see it: the question of father
like god when it comes to mary injunction madonna
and ******:
i'm asking: what about the ******* church
of the father: if the mother qualified
for governing iron maiden 200- year old grip
of power!
it's as if feminism reached into the deepest
receeding potential for man
and said: in the parody of Greek Sibyls:
we must reach
the man's potential of the work ethos:
we must enter the worldplace
to have a chance to talk to Matthew...
i'll wait... there is not vanity in be subsidising
nouns... for nouns:
say Jesus: then i'll say Matthew:
ten times.

— The End —