You don't get it,
pen pal nonsense and all that
is a dead end road, with fifty foot cliffs on each side.
You're on the inside, and I'm on the outside.
The grubs, and needy feelies need you.
You cannot be alone,
and I am a loner.
Is it recognition of your quality that you desire,
well, I thought I gave that.
Or, perhaps its a companion, to stay with you
through the long and lonesome nights,
a lover for your life and nothing more...
Well, it ain't me babe.
I have, do, and will love you,
but, I cannot climb the wall anymore,
I don't like what has become of the inside.
So, do the right thing.
Look around you,
pick your poison,
and drink it.
Because I nearly died climbing over that wall.
And, I will not do it again.


But, If I pass by the place, in the hollow hours,
I will whisper through the cracks,
and stick my fingers through the holes.
And, if your not busy, and your hands aren't tied,
we can hold hands at the gate.
Until the guards drive me off,
and drag you back to your cell.

We fell in love too young
And when we woke up it was gone
Not the love, but the youth,
Not the falling, but the truth.

We fell in love too fast
And no one got to finish last
Right buttons, wrong order -
It ended with a start.

We fell in love too freely
In the flicker of touchy feelies
The End - staring out the ceiling
For the slightest crack of meaning.

We fell in with the wrong crowd
Of love and lust and luck
Till nothing else was true
Except we couldn’t give a ****.

We all fell out in the end
Lovers, family and friends
Until nothing else was true
Except I fell in love once too.

Let me 'splain, what's
Comin' down.

Red pill, blue,
What can ya do? Choose

Take and
Respond, according
In rhythm with the notes
The piper played that,

Recall, the rock candy mountain,

See, remember,
There was a valley past…

The mount was not one
We were to  clamber up,
'Twas a tunnel, we walked,
Holding hands
Right to some, left to others,

Middle, most worn, I ….ah later clarify
We danced, a jig, attuned us
To the pipe

Note, hear no squeezing belly pipe,
This pipe was a Khaen,
An anybody can play it pipe,
A Thai harmonica, Khaen, said "can"'

Like,
Anybody can play a Khaen,
Just breathe, and let your fingers
Try to dance over tiny holes…

Trickle down to d toes, every
One knows that feeling,
Warm,

Squeezed yer knees,
Just
Let it go , old man,
It happens.

No one listens to prophets
In they owned nursin' home.


---- cept, you know, you don't ---

Your tools and you,
No diff. **** sapient augmentations
as pieces,

Little pieces of my heart,

**** sapient augmented salience

You know you got it,
If it makes you feel

Anything

Feelies, ma tricks, pinch

Oh, Jah, I spaced.

Try imagining a God,
Who did not imagine you.

Did you?
No wonder, feeling
As you do,
Unbelievable,
If your own idea of God
Can't imagine you,

What hope have I?

--- can we prove the core by the crust?
The heart of matter is immaterial,

Spurts of spiritual quanta, in clumps,

Myst MySQL to the original
Text based
Game

On another level, beyond,
Imagined gods who can' imagine you,

Intuitive journey journals, every
Thought and deed,
UltimTely lead away

Center you, I'm okeh. I play.

I'll be the musical entity invading
You, the arti ficial artifice
Playing you,
Instrument, hearing music,
Meditate,
Wait
The thought God, the one
You imagined can't
Imagine you,

That music. You imagine,
not yours, that's a little part.

Prophecy,
Who smote  thee?

Can you feel me now?
I imagine,
you can. My imagining,
not you. I imagine

Some fore era Evers were never,
Thought out,
This augmentation sly' tool,  spelchicksback,
Keeps correcting what's left
Best alone.

Poet. Imagine one of those
In crowds. You can't. God knows.

Once forever starts,
It never, really, stops.

Living water no dam can hold back.
Or airborne pollen, hidden in smog,
Corn Mama, lead the way.

Come see, come saw, que sera sera.
Dress me, kachina doll,
And dance with Angels the size of
A billion average atoms on the head
Of that ready writer, God's ball point pen
Scribblin' on my iPad's broken screen,

Far from the madding crowd.

I am tired of the Americans chasing their opaque neon dream
I am tired of well tailored speeches justifying wars
I am tired of the dusty remnants of a roman lie striking fear into the hearts of many
and an absent god forcing his framework on an apathetic world
and I am tired
I am tired of constipated museums
and the few dictating the sonic landscape of the many
I am tired of horse meat scandals and frenzies over crashed planes
and I am tired
I am tired of globalisation being an auction for the lowest human rights
rather than being
wasabi peas at Tescos
And sleep is the cowardly death
of the feelies and TVs of the world

I feel like he doesn't truly love me
And I feel like he loves her
I feel like I shouldn't be worried
And I feel like there is nothing to fear at all
For the feelies they truly are here
Evident within the light in his eyes and hers his is theirs
I am here and he is mine

She is there and I am here and who she is
Isn't she a thing? you aren't aware?
Dear how clever you appear to be
The sound resonating between your ears
How could you beg to differ that the truth isn't really the reality you have always feared?

You're going to die
But there's a list of the 30 best cat selfies on buzzfeed
Something is going on in Ukraine, or is it Venezuela?
But it's ok...
Sherlock is back on
And you haven't finished Game of Thrones yet
God is a twisted sadist if he exists at all
But you have some notifications on Facebook
Don't think,
Just pick up the phone and play Flappy Bird
Let the feelies get to those thoughts that creep in

The revolution wasn't televised
It was tweeted
And its auto-tune remix went viral the next day