I am cloaked in my lovers.
Filthy with them.
Rich!
I bath in their colours and am revivified.
can you say the same?
Question me another day,
maybe even now,
and I may be estranged,
please find me.
Find me a river,
fe fi me a hum drum,
bugging out in the desert
with foe's near and thumbs twiddling,
what would jack think?
If only Adam had of Evened out
then my pain would not be Able to pick up the Cane
and strike me down in the midst of things to come.

I put my joints out on pieces of nickle or something,
a mixture maybe.
I don't know what money is made of these days
but I do know what money has always been made of,
intent! intent!
What is your money made of?
I feel intense when I know I am money,
I am lonely money,
battery charged,
a currency spent in intent intent.
I love and know that I love;
and when I can't I'm angry with the obstacles,
or I cry,
or am nervous.
There be gold in these shivers,
silver shivers of timber,
shaping my timbre.
When I can't; I won't,
but am a cat peering through a window
and when the glass house hits the glass ceiling
and all reflections are star dust;
I'll be caked in it.

The cake is a lie.
The cake is a lie,
it's your birthday,
have you tried blowing out the candles.?
Do you know how to wish?
Chase a carrot on a stick?
It's your birthday you grasp out through straw.
Crack an egg on your head,
gasping, shivers from shoulders
through a big round question mark.
What is it I should know,
caked in egg head to toe,
that I didn't when I should have before?

The abyss comes toward me as I jump in,
It does not care if I lose or if I win.
The blackness turned away it's light,
No visions, no preference, no fight.
Turned inside out and upside down,
Flipped side to side and all around.
I am shredded to the core and left alone,
In the dark and mind is blown.
It leaves me there until I forget,
The being I was before we met.
I see a light that shines in my eyes,
It takes away the shame and the lies.
It places my mind where it used to be,
builds up all the pieces that were once me.
I see myself as I have never seen,
I now remember what I had been.
It gives back the life I once had,
as I stare at my hands I am glad.
I cry and wail and give gratitude for this life,
all of it, the love, the fear, the joy, the strife.

DmnStr8

I wrote this many years ago and recently found it.. thought I would share it.

I looked in the mirror and said I'm trying to save you
Myself looked back and said I don't believe you
I don't care if you don't believe me and it doesn't matter to me
You can stay as yourself but you will let me be me
But we are one and the same myself tried to say
No, I am me and not you and now you're in the way
Excuse me I said as I got into the cannon
Myself was too scared to go as you can imagine
The cannon went off and I shot into space
You should have seen the look on my self's face
Space welcomed me in and said how do ya do?
I said I do fine and how the hell are you?
We sat there talking for what must have been hours
When space mentioned something about powers
This peeked my interest as soon as it was said
These powers I thought would look great in my head
Then space disappeared inside of a dome
I was happy to have a new place to roam
I smelled a low humming that caught my attention
The taste of the colors are something to mention
The hum got louder and gave me a hug
It thanked me for coming and then with a shrug
The hum waved goodbye and then snapped it's sound
The sound rose me up in the air off the ground
I rose so fast that I lost my own mind
My ears are now deaf my eyes are now blind
The light left my eyes and all turned to black
At this point I wanted to turn back
The blackness it took me and showed myself die
How long had I been here? and I started to cry
Relax it's ok I could hear in my head
All the while I thinking I'm dead
The hum came back and it took me quite quickly
I found myself feeling something oddly tickly
My arms were now noodles and my fingers spaghetti
The top of my head blew off and out came confetti
The confetti looked something like stars
It was so beautiful, wonderful, confounding, and bizarre
Space showed up and and turned me into white light
The light split itself across the night
Across the darkness of night, the universe, and into every being
I could not believe what I was seeing
I experienced my birth, my life and my death
All on one string, made out of one breath
Out of my left ear I heard someone singing
I tilted my head and began leaning
I leaned too far and fell back to earth
All my experiences with me to count up the worth
What I count just falls through my fingers
Like sand in an hourglass not wanting to linger
The sand fell out and made up my frame
It filled up my entire body but I still looked the same
I opened my eyes for the first time that day
No longer dreaming, Awakened they say.

DmnStr8

you wont have to like it
and you probably wont
but we all pick our poisons
sometimes mine get stuck in my throat
im not choking though
just laughing
its hilarious you see
that whats poison and madness to you
is just happiness to me
but my tank is on empty
and its a long walk to the station
so step in line and get in formation
we gotta make this thing fast cause times running out
its hard to walk on the water while your flying on clouds
it will be over soon and thats all that really counts

got a lot going on
and a little to miss
there is trouble a foot
that gets bleaker than this
so bundle up tight
and ball up your fists

sometimes i have a knack
for finding all that i lack
at the bottom of a bowl of soup
but thats not my dinner
tonight

its been a long time
since ive seen the grey dawn
and its been a cold night
too right to be wrong
but i find comfort sometimes
in the creaking floorboards

a lot of things look
and i look back at them still
i find myself amused
when i see the boys shill
and the shillings they pull
with the puppeteers strings
make the managerie dance
convincing it seems

but im alone in this room
with a dropper and spoon
ive been a bad man
so sing me the songs of the doomed
but i like it that way
and i wont hurt anyone
with this dusty old broom

im going away
and im not coming back
you wont find me tomorrow
only my track
and im a choo choo train running
just 5 minutes late

its early in the morning
or maybe late in the night
i cant quite tell which
im not yet that bright
but there is a promise ahead
i can see it gleaming
like a candle flame
being blown out
as a child makes a wish that never comes true

so dont look for me now
or yet again in the morrow
im walking those fields
with these wheels that i borrow

They wonder why the pills dont work
And the soda makes you thirsty
The cigarette smokes and all the bad jokes
That fall from the throats
Is worsening
And they wonder
They wonder and ask aloud
At the tv screens with their satellite beams
Spoon feedings us dreams
Tasting all the obscenes
The masticated mass of all that one gleans
Becomes like gum whos flavor is lost
And the cheap circus show now garbage overdue to be tossed
They wonder and whine for the answers within
But never the time for other than sit and spin
They covet the horrors they proudly display
They borrow in sorrow and resent what they pay
Its quite a conundrum wouldnt you say?
And they still wonder why the pills dont work
Why the soda brings thirst
And the cigarette smokes and all the bad jokes
That fall from their throats
Get worse

wheres my forest girl
who remembers the elders
who knows the river

in thus consummate resolve i drift aboard delight, (and)
in marriage with the courage to trust thyself aright,
sometimes i float in the deep of endless depths,
(fathomless bottoms devoid of luminescence)
but here i rage no more against a dying of the light,
for death i do not damn for how could death be damned?
such damnation is the symptom of madness!
we can be certain then that a damning of the light of death
departs away from truth, forsaking life, leaving life betrayed.
(witness now the tale of husband death)
•••
death walks the invisible world,
in which live the realms of invisible beings.
of these realms there is a peculiar set,
they call themselves human beings.
in the abyssal depth of death’s invisible world,
there appear like holograms in the space of the empty,
materializing, mysteriously, into dangling densities,
eccentric ghostly figurines against the backdrop of the void.
now the king of death had one rule only,
which all beings that are visiting must accept,
do not extend your invitation to my paradise,
ere shall i annihilate. enjoy my welcome. that is all.
for eons past and futures far alike,
the abyss of the void of the realm of death,
is ever momently purged to keep his invisible world,
tidy.
but persistently is there ever unwelcome visitors,
apparently having failed to respect proper guest routine,
manners so absent that even death raises a brow,
and therefore shoots the lord of life a glance, having all
the appearance of the expression of a demon’s that is gleaming.
i just cannot understand, the devil said,
speaking of the rascals,
which take advantage of his hospitality,
relaxing with the lord of life sitting ‘neath a ginkgo tree,
how they overstay their welcome.
addicted they are, (replied the wife of life),
to material. so much so apparently, they identify material,
with their densely bodies and are tricked,
by their physicality with my hospitality.
how odd they think we envy them, desiring mortality! (uttered husband death)
you’re exactly right, (replied the lord of life)
how little they know of life. . .

(her voice pierced the logosphere,
a tune too perfect to hear)
§
like the lonely flower, beautiful for no one. . .
like this butterfly, beautiful for me. . .
and all the sky in water blue, beautiful for you. . .

her song penetrated every corner of the world,
over every land and sea her voice reverberated,
the secret untold which keeps itself! she cried.

but these notes of honey settle rare on ear or eye,
dewdrops they, of joyous myurakuli!
so few these are, are those invisible to me.
and so sighed the king of death.
but his spirits were uplifted not long after,
the lovely wife of life disdressed her luminous gown,
mystic’ly aglow, of the softest moonlit violet-blue,
entering the pond she made not a ripple.
her tresses silky deathless find their course aflux,
along in motion on her shoulders softly pale;
but beneath the tresses – arest on breasts divine,
beats behind the breasts divine the immortal heart of life,
the thumping eternality of the wife of husband death,
the goddess life.

I wonder
And I wander
And ask
Why why why why why
Said baby
I wonder
And I wander
To ask
Why why why why why
Baby
I wonder
And they wander
Askin
Why why why why why
Said baby
They wander
And she wonders
Askin
Why why why why why
Said baby
I wonder
And they wander
Never askin
Why why why why why
Baby
And I wonder while I wander
Asking
Why why why why why
Said baby
I wonder
Where she wanders
Don’t know
Why why why why why
Said baby
Don’t wander
And don’t wonder
Or ask
Why why why why why
Oh baby
I wonder

the boy

the waterfront boy walks stalks careens
out from the waterfront dream, sleek, serene
fluid as the doves in droves or lepers in robes
strode stalked drove for the terminus the nightmare
the mission he'd taken, the unholy error
risen reasoned sharpened seasoned to a fine silk resin
of a mirth of mercy so encumbering so quiet
stalking striding flying, fervent flesh and sinew
like a baptist like a wild beast like a soldier dying

half a bottle of rum in the jacket shoulder
surely and silently upward like a harvest moons
anonymous lover, like a jackal like it's shadow
like a black lagoon creature, the ghost from the
waterfront 45 degrees westward and ten years beaten
a thousand feet out from the concrete forest tangle
a hundred reddening street lamp lights and a million
stark street bells, sleekly and silently the terminus
like an oath into the wind or heavy rain without reason

Alaskan, western, 1st avenue, 2nd..
I'm not new to this, I'm true to this..
3rd and cherry and over a block to james, to conceive
to delineate, yes, to derive to define to desire, divest
3rd then 4th, yes, it isn't my idea it was gifted, surrendered
it was spited me, yes, that color in the dream of the will of the night sea
the amplitude of time, sublime post-life messenger, up this hill calling reeling raising me
centuries of slow second stop motion clockwork, and another nip off the lip of the 80-proof liquor.

only 800 miles to the ivory coast, unendingly
into the twilight zone, the last land of make-believe
800 leagues out of the deepest deep, motherfucker
800 blocks 800 fathoms up into the sweet dark grandeur
the sheet, the sweet surrender, this night within which
you wove for yourself yes, like your own brother
10,000 eons, lightyears ago, 10,000 infernal screams
now climb that hill, do it, climb it now buddha
to find the thing that has yet to be, has never been found

to cherry and boren, to serenade the dead leaves
with every heartbeat, every cold calculated pulse
of impassioned resolve dissolving days innumerable
forgetting, counting nothing, no street no dark
seeing nothing into the courtyard seeing nothing
into the left corner, there kneeling whispers the
three syllabled syllabus of that midnight bower
and with the blade severs the face of it severs
the boy and the blood of manhood's reddest hour

Feeling a bit dark today....

The harsh expansion of my consciousness
Caused my soul to cough out demons
They writhe in the light
Burning away the layers of darkness
The deed is done
They lay discarded and naked
Begging for the warmth
Of lies and deceit
No more power do they hold
It was taken away
They look in shock
Staring at their slave
Who now is above them
Calling out for mercy
They receive it
More layers scorched from them
Transformation occurs
Long forgotten smiles return
Gratitude is given
They stand and recognize
Their true nature once again
And now are free
To continue into the universe
To master themselves

~DmnStr8

So now its been 7 years
Of burning that old midnight oil
And the creeps they crawl
While the squeaks they squawl
And that lamp stays burning
Burning that old midnight oil

But its out of time
That was the goal achieved
To be out of time
Only half alive indeed
So I kept her burning
Burning that old midnight oil

Till a beast it grew
Grew to the sight of many to behold
Its ungodly ways became infamous
And the beast kept on burning
Burning that old midnight oil

The Shuffled Deck (Versos Sueltos)

A white eye tells me nothing
When do we stop being smart
What's the use of completing a thought
We have to sling ideas into the air
Disorder also has it's charm
A bat fights with the sun:
Poetry bothers no one
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

The storm that isn't sublime is a bore
I've had it with God and the Devil
How much is that pair of pants
The gentleman frees himself from his lady
Nothing is more hostile than the heavens
We think pride wears slippers:
The self-respecting soul never argues
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

Who puts to sea in a violin will sink
The young virgin marries an old man
Poor fools, they're talking through their hats
Love is not a thing to offer twice:
They give blood instead of milk
Birds sing only for the fun of it
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

One night I considered suicide
The mockingbird laughs at himself
Perfection is a barrel with no bottom
Everything transparent seduces us:
To sneeze is the greatest pleasure
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

There are no girls left to rape
The danger is in being sincere
I'll do anything to make a buck
Between the breast and the back is an abyss
We must leave dying to the dying:
My cathedral is the bathroom
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

We deliver ham to your home
Can you tell the time by flowers
Second hand crucifixes sold here
Old age has also its reward
The funeral leaves nothing but debts:
Jupiter ejaculates over Leda
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

We are still living in a forest
Can't you hear the wind in the leaves?
You are never going to tell me I'm dreaming
Everything I say has got to be true
I think I'm making sense
I too am a god in my way
A creator who creates nothing:
I dedicate myself to a slow yawn
And the fuchsia looks like a ballerina.

Nicanor Parra

Hello Brothers and Sisters

***

They are naked now
And as such so art we
They have been exposed
As for the world to see
They are lying before us
As once so were we
And from his holy ordinance
Comes forth authority

Listen
Man
Who has journeyed
And toiled among the vines
Listen
Than
To whom hath buried
Time

Its not easy
Do not expect it
Its not pleasing
Do not resent it
Its not leisurely
Do not relent it

It has been tremendous
To return home
And as birds of the nest
We must still again be flown

***

The Alchemist

I am the artist
I am the craftsman
I am the congealer
I am the concocter
I am the combiner
I am the calciner
I am the putrefier
I am the student
I am the teacher
I am the fool
I am the philosopher
I am the neophyte
I am the adept
I am the master
I am the body
I am the mind
I am the spirit
I am the soul
I am the addict
I am the fanatic
I am the disciple
I am the defender
I am the seeker
I am the friend
I am the son
I am the brother
I am the father
I am the uncle
I am the ancient
I am the modern
I am the hope
I am the light
I am the darkness
I am the saint
I am the warrior
I am the follower
I am the leader
I am the wisdom
I am the ignorance
I am the doctrine
I am the principal
I am the process
I am the procedure
I am the composer
I am the author
I am the witness
I am the testifier
I am the garden
I am the seed
I am the captain
I am the ship
I am the sage
I am the monk
I am the executioner
I am the earth
I am the water
I am the air
I am the fire
I am
The Alchemist

***

In the presence of the All Mighty Living One
I am here to condemn the powers of Darkness
I am here to cast out the deceptions of greed
I am here to rebuke the authority of Evil
Lord All Mighty Creator Of Heaven And Earth
I call upon you and you alone
Lay witness to my prayer as you always do
Expel from me the corruptions of your condemned Angels of Darkness
Release me from this prison of deception
And grant me the solace of your Eternal Gift
In the name of your only begotten son Jesus Christ
I burry the fleshly yearnings of my past
I burry the deceptive promises of Evil
I burry the world of falsehood of which I am no longer a participant
I burry the hedonism of Satan
I burry the nihilism of Moloch
I burry the powerlessness of Bezlebub
I burry the false authority of Lucifer
I burry the corruption of Astaroth
I burry the lies of Baphomet
I burry the impurity of Lucifuge
I burry the resentments of Satanachia
I burry the Evil of the legion of Demons
And all those who seek their false promises
And all those who call them master
And all those who wish to be as they

Lord I am here today as witness to you
As you are witness to me
Bring me thy strength from within me
Allow mine eyes to be opened
To lay witness to the grace lying within me
I am your servant and no other
I call upon you and no other
I wish only for you and no other
I pray only to you and no other
My life is yours Lord
Make of me as you wish
And shelter me from the Evil of this world

Blessed is he who comes in the name of The Lord
Hosanna in The Highest
Hosanna in The Highest

In the name of
The Father The Son and The Holy Spirit
Amen

***

You say "There is no hope in this world"
Yet you forget you live
You say "There is only darkness around me"
Yet you forget to look within
You say "There is evil abound me"
Yet you forget the falsehood of sin

You say “I can not escape here”
Yet you forget what you must journey in
You say “There is no hope here”
Yet you forget the cup is filled to the brim
You say “My brothers have all left me”
Yet you forget they are all around you

You say “I am not worthy”
Yet you forget you are chosen
You say “How must I observe thee”
Yet you forget you always were thee
You say “I have forgotten the way”
Yet you forget you are

Keep the light shining
Shining bright
Bright in the darkest
The darkest of the night
For we are the light of the world
And behold
We are upon the darkness

***

A man once went upon a great journey to understand himself and God
He walked from his home straight out
He passed the huge rocks
He passed the medium stones
He passed the small earth
When he came upon a beach of soft sand
He realized he had reached the ocean
The fish were leaping out of the ocean into the air and returning once again

He beheld a vision
Of prehistoric beings
Born of the ocean
They evolved before him
And growing arms and legs and lungs
They crawled upon the land
Their determination was Holy as God
Upon the land they dwelt
Imbibing still in the waters
For it was in them which was granted the volatility of life

The Living One said
“What shall we consider?”
“Love” It answered back
“Where shall we reside?”
“Here, Now” It answered back
“What shall we behold?”
“Fire, Water, Air, and Earth” It answered back
Congealing the volatile with the fixed
There was a great rushing
And the might of the cosmic water broke the dam

When the spirit is removed the body is given back to its mother

A man once tried to light an incense
He struck a match and held it to the stick
The flame grafted to the stick for a moment
And believing it was ready he blew it out
But the flame did not stay grafted
And the stick did not burn
He tried to blow on it
But it was not lit
He then struck another match
And put it to the stick
Then he blew out the flame and blew on the embers
Then the incense was lit

We are the Phoenix and the Phoenix is the pendulum
Those who master themselves seek to keep the pendulum to one side, allowing it only to swing back in the subconscious mind
The pendulum ever swings though we may escape being carried along with it
The longer the swing in one direction, the father it shall swing in another
Those capable of great evil may do great good
But those capable of little evil may do little good
Those who experience the greatest good must also experience the greatest evil
Those who have great gifts of spirit shall be barren of the physical and those who have great gifts of the physical shall be barren of spirit

Preference is the bane of man
For mans preference has been and shall be the path of least resistance
This shall lead to the delusional satisfaction of ignorance
And escort thee from the providence of wisdom
For wisdom is a burden
And viewed as such among all
Those of wisdom and foolishness shall agree in this regard

***

The worlds heaviest bag

Whats he doing
…?
Wheres he going
…?
And what the hell
…?
Is in that bag
…?

I just can’t see
Who would want to carry
A bag
As heavy
As that
…?

That thing
Looks really
Really fuckin heavy
Heavy as can be
Well I just don’t know

Tired and old
Unshaved and untold
Off to the stars
With the heaviest rabbit hat
In the cosmos

Determined and true
Unabashed
Honesty
Humility
Weighing three hundred pounds
In gold
I found
On my
Roof

After he journeyed the lands
And floated down streams
Using his bag
As a steam boat
Flying machine

Unloading the burden
Pressure unbound
Deflating the moorings
Of boats in the sound

I cast out the rivers
Of greed and demise
And bring in the spiders
Which weave away flies

You think that you’ve got me
Oh your certain
Quite sure
You think this is over
Right here
At your door
But you have no fucking clue
Whats soon to be in store
Stick around kid
You might find out some more





he found himself freed
after eons passing
children laughing
women gnashing
icicles gashing
it was a very long time

and he found himself freed
after winds blowing
sowers sowing
growers growing
mowers mowing
knowers knowing
and it had been so long

his emptiness had fulfilled
and his fulfillment had emptied
it had been a very very long time
since he found himself
freed

but what
for
where
now
was he
lost
as before
could this really be
it
he wasn’t quite
sure

is it
the cusp of the ocean
or
the breach of the land
could it be
the skies of devotion
or just
the beach of the sand
just maybe
just maybe

and it had been oh so so long
that the creature of habit
lingered the path all along
and in its lingering wander
it wondered and singed a song
of a bubbling brook
beside the neck of the throng

***

"what a fanciful wonder
what a magic delight
what a splendid asunder
what a splendiferous sight
what a spagyrical plunder
what a satyrical might
what a scandalas conundrum
what a soperferal insight
what a gallant display
what a dismal device
for a chore of today
for a morrow of wine
what a whore of a lay
what a glory to time
whats in store is to stay
and whats to pour isn’t mine
so why lie sore for the way
whats bore gross unrefined
is but a lore in the way
of the story of mine
for in retched decay
born a seed to unwind
in the sordid array
of the valley beyond bind
and the gore of the lay
hides the bored and unwise
when the rawness unscathed
washes ashore the unblind"


Nihilandia And Hedonia

Soon will come the days when your children will be as drunken wanderers
They shall pity one another into inevitable oblivion
They shall accelerate and elevate themselves and each others burdens
Whom bares the greatest burden among them shall be on a pedestal of sorrow and crowned with eternal madness
When they look about they will see the magnificent shadow which is cast over the small candle of light

“Why are we dammed to this fate? All about us is destruction, impoverishment and combustion.”
“We are bound to eternal suffering.”

And it was indeed true, for in those days all the world was in great suffering
Brought on by the promulgation of the inevitable hopelessness of tomorrow
And perpetuated by the seeming impracticality of today
They created their own doomed destiny in the factory of their minds
They buried their bleeding hearts
And the wound may be bandaged for many years but if it does not heal it will not do so on its own
The hedonism of men became fueled by the amassing nihilism
It was a contest of great valor and of unabashed corruption
Heaps upon heaps they piled up to the clouds

They said to him “All about us is ashes, drifting into the wind, what shall we do?”
He said to them “The wind shall be here after you just as it was before you. The philosophers have found great use of it in their flights, and you are advised likewise.”

“But where shall we propel ourselves to? Or what shall we to ourselves bring? All is dust and ash, lifeless and decay.” they said
“The mushroom grows on the rotting log and the manure of the barns produces a healthy crop. The dog urinates on the tree. Shall we cry for the trees which fed you? The animals who you have slaughtered to feed your families? Do you not see?” he said to them

They said to him “We feel like bottomless consumers, why has the Lord made us as a cancer upon the earth? If there is a God truly he is one of malice and hatred for Man.”
“Bottomless indeed and consumers indeed, but a cancer ye are not unless ye choose to be. The bottomlessness of man is held equally in his ability to create and to destroy. Frown upon another and they shall frown back at you, smile upon another and they shall smile back.” he said to them

“We know there is light left shining, shining from the burning candle of truth, yet when our eyes look upon it the winds stir with such ferocity that we are terrified it should go out and we look away. The flame recedes from us constantly. Often we find sickening pleasures in the darkness where the light is not cast, they are crude and corrupt but our tension and turmoil demand release and we do not know any other way. ” they said to him
“The holy candle of truth shall go out when the last eyes which look upon it are brought adrift. There are those among you who are secretly tending the flame. Your discord has become so strong within you that you have not realized that when you look upon the light you are becoming so afraid you nearly blow it out accidentally.” he said

“We all know keeping the light of this candle has been the journey of our fathers, yet we also have come to hate our fathers and do not wish to continue on with their ways.” they said
“There can be no hope to keep the candle burning without the appreciation of those who have done so before you. You may choose not to continue in many of the ways of your fathers, just as many generations have done before you, but that will not spare you from the ways of God and Men and Earth as you have eagerly hoped and silently expected. Your burdens are great and many and your fathers have laid them upon you with little to no guidance of how to bare them, for they knew not how to bare it themselves and have cast you children forth out of the well of their earthly desires. Look not to man but to God and your burdens will be released.” he said


The smallest stones are also the heaviest

Ive got a soft confession
Thats so hard to face
Ive got a loft transgression
But it feels quite misplaced

Ive got a cord procession
That we all love to chase
And I’ve got the right intention
But its in the wrongest place

Ive got a blight perception
And its so hard to erase
But even the horse with blinders
Can still win for the race

Its been a tight conception
To come out of this place
And I need a slight correction
Or Ill become one of the chase

So cast not transgressions
Up from your ivory tower
And bring not dissections
From your holiest hour

Undone
Unraveled
Cannot you see
For all along I have been here to tell you
That what will happen to you
Is what happened to me

And in those days
They will deny it still
They will toot their horn
And play the fool on the hill

“Its good to be a fool
And you were once so proud to be
So why deny us
What you once cherished with glee?”

Ah why yes
Oh why yes yes indeed
For the glories of fools
Are but the potentials of seed

And the seeds they drift
Over the land and the seas
They traverse this world
With their potential, it needs

And when they lapse upon the shore
And burrow upon the lands
They make their way to the potentials
That they find in the sands


Larry The Great Anarchist Grandstand Foolosopher

Too withered to live
And to shivered to die
He watched on
As the gladiators entered the colosseum

Hes in the grandstand now
Certainly not one for the show
He’s given up the act
Oh didnt you know

He’s way up high
But he’s looking down below
He’s still quite intact though
Wouldn’t you know

Hes on his way out the door
But he’s refusing to leave
He’s the advocate of the devil
And the sower of need

No time for this game
He thought in his head
Ill sooner be drinking and drunken than dead
And so to the bottle he went just then instead

He was clinging to life
Over the edge of the canyon
His wings spreading to take flight
For the hopeless abandon

And while he wailed on his sails
In the whispering winds
He wondered of Betsy and Bessie and Bonnie and Bim’s

A mirage of spectacles were revealed in the air
He wasn’t sure whether to run or maybe just stare
When this menagerie of memories receded right under his hair
He was finally aware of how what he once considered fair
Was now just dust to be mopping for the slave gods of time
He was constantly a gape how the crux of his mechanism
Had been buried so deep in its prime

And at first his anxiety gave way to resent
"Why should I change me now I’m half past dead yet!”
Then the sadness condensed like humidity on his whiskey glass
“Whats the use I’m too old for what I never had!”
And when the drops came down they became humility
He sat silently sponging in the liquid
When he was filled with humility he died

***

Happiness is not what he expected to find
Down here
The place no one seeks
Unless they are banished
Where its cool and dark
And the last lamp burning the midnight oil
Has gone out

First he found a wrapping of anger
And within that resentment
Which was clinging tightly to sadness
The sadness made itself a cloak for fear
It so closely resembled it no one even noticed
Most didnt even know there was a difference
Yet the fear began to gestate and grow over time
The fear had to come out
But it couldn’t shake off its sadness
So one day the fear decided to face itself
And in doing so it had to face sadness
Which really was the greatest fear all along
But I’m sure you already knew that by now
So he took his sadness cloaked fear to a mirror and looked into it

At first he saw the image of sadness
But something more lied underneath
Fear
But fear of what?
Mystery
Indefinable existence
Utter ignorance of the grand schematic
The infinite microcosm of all existence

And while at first he was overcome with rage and sorrow and despair at what he saw
He soon found himself laughing
For his powerlessness which seemed so long to be damnation was actually the ultimate key to his awareness of salvation
“Is this what I’ve been trying so hard to cover up?"

***

The appealing of the masses

The men of today are banished to the land of appeal
They wander amongst one another, in perpetual squalor
Seeking the fountain of the wise, among the desert of sand
Believing that wisdom grants might and in turn pleasures stand

But oh how lost they are
For the land of appeal is eternally unquenched
And the eyes of the wanderer closed to the well
Who’s streams of wisdom issue forth the pains of time
To chasten the spirit of love

The land of appeals lies past the kingdom of nihilism
Through the forest of hedonism
To the outskirts of damnation
It is a place where the desperate seek
And the certain wallow, squandering every drop of their self assurance

Its sands are bleach white
And its sky is a crystal blue
With the clouds of smoke overhead
Pluming
Up
And up

The place where no pleasure is spared
And no insecurity brought
It is a place of blind mighty self assurance
And of hopeless hilarity

Its lingering residents cascade from the surrounding mountains
Prideful and unabashed
They ride towards the dunes of appeal
As the wind lifts but a few grains of sand
And the trees of the forest
Do not grow here

Upon the belligerent brandishing of the solemn squires
Came crowns of wealth, rubies, diamonds and sapphires
The patience of which was never known by the bearers
So the bastard brigade rode on
And on

Where is this place
Is it from where we come
Or whence we go
Is it the future of tomorrow
Or the heel to our toe

Wherever it is is now our forever abode
For who would ever dream to leave
This land most appealing indeed
Who’s earth lays no bed for the seed
Which we desire quite properly to promptly impede
For why invite the death of whats born without need

Who needs to grow
Or gain in this land
For we have overflowing many a cup
Right here at our hand
And such is all which appeal
To our frivolous way
So leave us be now forever
To the end of our day

Cry not the tears of mercy for us
Just remember friend its only your loss
We have discarded unpleasantries of the gross and the dross
In favor of refined pleasures without mushroom or moss
For we are the immortal, the untamed and most wise
We congeal this knowledge in pleasure before our eyes
And in it we rot in the core of our souls
For the pain which it bore was too much to behold
So we cast it aside
Discarded the lie and opened our minds
To the whispering appeals of settled inside

And for he who determines
The inside from out
For he who is learned
Of sweetest of bitters and sourest of stout
Let him come hither to our glories abound
The temple is building us out of the ground

And let us dismantle all that which has been scathed in our minds
Let us bring ruin to this sordid cornucopia of times
And cast out the light who’s glare renders us blind

Blighted
Bleeding
Bemused
For a while

We linger in appeal
And never seem tired
For this endless wasteland
This bastion of bones
This sarcophagus gaping
Inviting our tombs
Has smell of sweet smokes
A most resinous ring
The ashes upswept
At our feet as we sing
The lyre of language
Which springs from our heads
What a burden is life
What a pleasure to be dead

Ah but better than all
To appeal to the wise
Dilute them with triviality
A cancer in disguise

Wish them away
Usher them in
Pour them a goblet
Of our finest bathtub gin
And when they are drunken
They shall fall from their thrones
Unleashing the hounds
That shall feast on the bones

But it doesn’t end there
For flesh is not enough to appeal
To the ears of the guidance of he who conceals
We must grind on the marrow
Who’s glue we shall seal
The lips of the questions
Asked by desires
Between logic faith and fate
To the ears of the wisest

For these whispers are burdens
Laid beneath our quivering breasts
And eclipse all the scourges
Which contend our unrest
We have concurred all
And escaped not one night
The darkness forgoing
The eye of the light

See ye not
On the eve of the hour
The completion brought about now
In the guise of a tower

Lest appeal should leave us
And to darkness we return
For the kingdom which need us
Is without our discern
We would rather remain basking in the heart of the night
Never to know wrong forever longing insight




Abuse of power is the lynch pin
When the pin is pulled
Chaos emerges
Don’t wait
For the clock
To run out

***
I’ve
been longing for today
I’ve been living in the past
but it wasn’t it long to last
last
I’ve been longing for today
I’ve been living in the past
but it wasn’t long to last
last


***

its all about the money
its all about the money
its all about the money
or so they say

but if its all really about the money
why dilute so much
and give it away

the value of the dollar
the invisible number nobody knows
but everyone sees
does not exist
yet grows on trees

the press
has changed man
the days of metal money
now gone
locked in the vault of time
lost in the fiat heaps
of old blue jeans
and computer paper

the sages knew
it is indeed far more profitable
yet far more impractical
to ferment the spirits of men
rather than the pockets their of

and the goldsmiths
having gained much from their reading of the sages
were inclined to agree
towards an opposing end of course

no generation
without corruption
so they told me
corrupt as he was
he was inclined to agree
thus generation began

alchemy
is the most powerful force on earth
the artist does not concoct the force himself
he merely puts his will upon it and through it
casting it in the direction of choice
not to do his bidding, but its own
for only those who wish things to be as they are
can truly call themselves alchemists
and for those who wish not
they are but the frivolous puffers
ever dwindling and whittling by the light of the fire
praying for the morrow
not to be in vain
once again

they say death is the end
the end you want to avoid
yet still every fruit has its seed
so if we avoid death
in turn we erase life indeed

Hi all.
Some great stuff in here.

I've only in the last few years started writing as a cathartic outlet like none I'd ever known.
To be able to put down things that had been spinning for a life time and things that were very new was just...well amazing.

Anyway I'm new here and think posting a few obscure poems is a strange way to introduce myself so...here goes.




A story without plot.
Forevever reflected within the mirrors of now.
Perceptible reality a very long shot.
Believing in light when its only a shadow.

The substance elusive.
Restrained by the fixated.
Thoughts subversive.
Confined by the uninitiated.

With self eventually calmed
The turbulence left to still.
Changed but never harmed
Being the fool on the hill.

The journey with no end.
Learning to not seek glory.
A comforting friend.
A plot without story.

Existence is gleamed perodically.
From a morning dreamed methodically.
Awoken to a self born of sleep.
A pool of awareness existentially deep. 

Fabrications of reality assumed between.
You and I and an agreement seen.
Perhaps there is a true objective difference.
Or maybe a crudely designed but needed deliverance. 

Surety in the tangible here an now.
As real as a nightmares created sweaty brow.
Without each other neither is known. 
Within the depths of your dreams a now is shown.

Everything we are resembles flow.
The terrain of existence over which we glow.
Ripples of interactions, chaotic in form.
Waves on turbulent waters conciousness storm.
On which Philosophical boats sail, laden with spice.
Understanding the river is never the same twice.
The drip of words squeezed from a mountain of thought.
Have to pass through the filter of what we've been taught.
Take away the restrictions by forces unseen.
Come closer to free form being. 
Flexible fluid and never fixed.
Changeable reality forever mixed.

Form is a distraction from energy.
The lies from your senses the enemy.
Cages of fractal circles size defined.
Our interactions where the edges combine.

No matter the shape an object has a sphere.
Its this energy that allows now to be here.
At the outermost edges of our very conciousness.
You will find the innermost limits of the Qauntum scientists.

A circle can never be broken.
For even the pieces know why they've been chosen.
Soothing our craving for stability.
With fragments we construct an impossibly self resolved objectivity.