HAPPY BIRTHDAY

2011-11-19T02:34:00.000-08:00

welcome to the party

blah blah blah blah blah blah
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blah blah blah blah
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blah blahs blah blah blah
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blah blahs blah
blah
blah.

2011-11-14T20:24:00.000-08:00

lyfe wears masks (like you)
the best poem in thw rold

when you think
this is fun
you are still
so dum dum

2011-11-13T20:20:00.000-08:00

health

the every lung of the babies
is for certain more of an adult than his feet
her voice is rough, in the children that freak
each others holes
made out of liquid bricks
drooling dicks
and sensitive story tellers
still counting kicks

love is the greatest awe when
it's healthy: your product is remarkable
but then
it is probably farm-able
who in their right mind
would want to quantify
this day, like an old buddy
it is
trembling and awake
friendly and a rake
peeling air and rubbing
grime
all the bloody

2011-11-08T18:21:00.000-08:00

2011-11-07T19:46:00.000-08:00

this is a backwards jaunt
for special ways to make a living
or spend it, at last
to occupy the imagination is offending a cause lower
than the beginning of an old trend
slower than the worst sexual intercourse i've ever had
and drinking orange juice on the front porch
faster than awakening to a new day
even though he said that today was the same
he also said that he was not sick of it
like me, as i transformed into a battery hen
while circumcising the mirror with dry eyes
tipping the coolest mother fucker
in the books and in the movies and in the songs
with a sly junky for socks and shoes
it would be some strength to clean this masterpiece
she's a doll
she's a dissatisfied customer
she's hardly merciful toward any comparable naivety
and she says that this isn't fun

2011-11-07T18:10:00.000-08:00

hey mister
there is a brutish predicament for the love
nest of nothing but swine
cool, no arsehole will suffer a sustainable moment
when they're hooning all the time

hey mister
i don't know what you're paying for
but there is a sale on bacon
so maybe we should steal some
and when we make breakfast for our really good friends
we can eat it

2011-10-26T13:51:00.001-07:00

ode to summer

love you babe

2011-09-26T18:07:00.000-07:00

rocket ship dreamz

i wonder when things will get worse
when i don't feel so down

i wonder if one day i'll have children
when i have two feet dancing on the ground

the space will be busy then
as will the sound

automobile, boom
all around town

2011-09-20T20:54:00.000-07:00

2011-09-15T01:48:00.000-07:00

picked medication inflation
get out of your personality dress
and underpants
so that you are naked, lying

against any flat wall just as long as it is flat
for just a standard minute

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30
31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40
41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50
51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

scamper heroes
with your pants done
tight
up

there is an apple core stuck in my trumpet

pounding like a real word is stuck somewhere in her larynx

intention is jailed at conduction
when yesterday kicks out of the well

2011-09-14T20:54:00.000-07:00

_________The Friendship Ballad__________

planet earth raises an eyebrow

i have a friend who keeps my heart safe
(hello how are you)
he doesn't mind that i'm not often placed
or in-line
we do things like be ourselves

with him, i am so sure,
that a directionless odyssey of time is absurd!
even when I'm baked from lunch-hour

2011-09-08T03:47:00.001-07:00

2011-08-23T03:50:00.000-07:00

a pin could drop
if i were to die
in this morning
i'd catch it
and allow no sense the travel
with something so meaningless

2011-07-09T21:35:00.000-07:00

this harp and the open breeze, between colossal lips is passionately impaired, a thick marriage, simplicity it's anchor of flux, damned grapple. the next word, scaling the walls of the ice box, to be two people, you, and i, teething a hard song for the waves

oh i feel so free under the sea

the current, an awakening prince, my lover, cleansing ugly oddities so wry, my movements become silver, juicy in ripe delicacy, lilac, and navy flutes, tunneling through a banquet so fruitful and welcoming my body with cool balance, cool strive, wholesome whispers of sexy, great strength, kissing the end of my tongue so that the salt trickles down my throat and i am the sea and the sea is me. delirium of silence. the most beautiful colours that i have ever seen. only to be absconded by the adhesive melancholy

i sit and draw faces of ugly oddity
i run my fingers through my ugly hair

next to me is an ashtray, prior the engagement of whimpering a sad song, a song so sad for me. died, in admission

i'll write a soft song for the sea, blue, for you, in remains, in sounds, for you loved the ocean, too, and i love you

2011-07-03T23:17:00.000-07:00

Pretty Face

envelope
the affordable doll
not even I can hear
the monkey hunting mourning
for it's verity
through my own mouth

2011-06-10T06:38:00.000-07:00

guarding your vigor
garden (the most beautiful thing)
those opals are not yours at all

they will split to bits
those salivating slits
when i want to touch you
(i want to touch you)
(i always want to touch you)

2011-05-07T03:38:00.000-07:00

little boys are winning tests with their morals
it seems that they are growing
but it is on regular occasion confusing
which way is up which way is good
when you don't care about nothing

caring does exist when the human race draws you in
because it would be nice if we could all get along
but it wouldn't be better
and the world that we share outside of our bodies is ancient with ideas
which is lucky
and very clever

2011-05-02T23:50:00.000-07:00

2011-03-30T00:07:00.000-07:00

with one mind i harbor a mud hurricane
naming him the master of hell
from days before now
and many nights yet to catch slipping whims
counting the error in our ways
and beyond - once more - driving - in adolescent cars
hungry - feeding each cast of irony with slaved beckoning
and carrying the secrets of the universe
all wrapped up in their tin heads
- back to mine - desecrated
the ferociousness - kept silently on its own - contaminated
by the terror of this mind without a body
or this body without a mind
like virginal toes in a barren ballet
too far away to be bothered with
i can't see
therefore i can't feel my feet
therefore i stayed in
and my dancing is for nothing
i know that this callas is a physical battle
because physical is all i am
i am the dancer of a tame humdrum, affected of folly piety
with brain damage
and only systematic inadequacies
getting blown away by daftness
pitching tents of spiritual value to honor
around the performance of an idiot, with expensive, clean shoes
that has taken the eyes that mirrored my wave of devotion
fuck
i've worked way too hard to quake
apart from the journey with a very large crack in the screen
the dimming light has unveiled my behaviour
as the roots of trees have died
and the seas expanded
as our bodies have urged for indulgence
of that desirable and pleasing
as my soul has slumbered
in a world of righteousness
this is the orchestral drowning
of the rue of the same old black air
this is agony seeking peace
the dissolution of despair

2011-03-22T06:57:00.000-07:00

2011-02-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

the silence wreaks of a drain
can you smell it?
can you smell the thump
the thud of pain?
as it breeds apprehensively
on the wood
beams off the varnish floor
like a starch drilled moon
mocking our souls
that cannot whisper secrets
not
anymore
now that the door has slammed tight
across these sad open lips
and crushed them seething
i'm a beggar
without a dollar to my name
but this sea is rough enough
to destroy any halt in the salty pissy rain
stuck in a sovereign collar
and breathing through cheap wine
if i find a dollar
can i dance it all away?
these shoes were made for protection
the ache is oh so tiring
i'll lie now
next to your lips on the floor
and pull my golden fork from the sorry bones
of it all.

2011-02-11T03:18:00.000-08:00

the woman has no use for her breasts ( . )( . )
one ( . ) shall beat with the lone of that conveniently placed muscular organ <3
the other is a sorrowful lump ( .)
no one actually ASKED her if she WANTED to attach
with some pain :'(
to another +
for some happiness :')
she can't STAND to be ALONE 1
there is no one to admire her throne
or to offer friendliness to her moan
to interrupt the drone
when that is the zone
this is a price we pay
for life, they say
some other prices are:
illness, poverty, religion, power, limited resources
so she should be grateful
is a thought
another thought is:
internet dating
but internet dating is for creeps
she is not a creep
another is: desperate actions
she is not desperate enough for such actions
some things lonely people do are:
become insane, inappropriately masturbate, weep, develop terrible/fantastic hygiene, internet date
it is highly important for human brains to interact with one another
if the womans brain cannot interact with other brains
she will forever be alone 1
and there will never be a use for her breasts ( . )( . )

2011-02-09T21:19:00.000-08:00

the paid up arsehole pokes out and declares oblivion
amongst akin vessels stroking their crowning faces
the moment is very drunk with power envy
strengthening light is stifled in frenzy
while the actors dream in callow bullshit
and everything is as it seems.

the wall spits his plaster over the common perceived reality
+ hormonal ignorance is not saved from disaster either
not here, not now

as
the moment is very peeved.

grieved.
on it's knees.
and everything is as it seems.

2011-02-09T21:12:00.000-08:00

2011-02-04T04:47:00.000-08:00

weakness of the flesh/humankind

make my self
another man
NEVER!
(as much as i can)

2010-10-16T23:57:00.000-07:00

in no mans land this
city is psyched!
i came to me
i flee from thee
interior realm of
god awful bones
ante chamber of death
all phenomenology
now closed.

2010-10-06T04:50:00.000-07:00

everyone is carrying a
brick in her head, here
with mother
it wasn't her idea
plastic seats circled by coin
resting these bones
'scum has muted the universe,' i think
on exit mother must know that
time does not wait for the dead
nor does
a satanic pistol
loaded in my head.

2010-10-03T22:36:00.000-07:00

standing in the seas of darwin
holding the light of man
caged by this human suit
who denies all that
which it demands

^^^^^^^^\o/^^^^^^^^
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2010-09-22T18:59:00.000-07:00

english oak,
the annuals pilot
swarming

apoidea,
in flirtatious flowerbeds
a bloody orgy!

stigma of lust
shrubs in flight
no sleep until dust

swipe the faces of bees
pointed breeze

these brown plain eaters
completely understood
yes
you must feel this buzz
rather than manifest
your own
just this time
bzzzzz
bzzz
bzzzzzz

2010-09-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

white china, almost the teeth of class
tenacious pearls holding position in their moment of time
from smooth labour in such delicate air
to this performance
only to be never
vindictive to this meal
with the cold wind kissing my cheek
i almost feel like
an adult, maturity the ease of posture
toasted flour the crumble under salted yellow cream
a sloppy feed offering drooling to the kids and queens
crisp fucking dead pig with bacon in between
and
i almost feel like an adult
but the years of these people
squawk systematic and pale
barite and numb
and i almost feel like an adult
but the adults
are dumb.

2010-09-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

the big rotating world whom is meager

play play fight
play oh win lose win
murderous values do not cease to exist for
i do not wish to kill but
too many tears i've shed through strangers mirrors and
these corners are no different to new doors
love is in fact painful
to all whom hold a man-heart woman-heart
two cannot equal one without extraction and
geometric elegance does not contemplate exterior of the accomplished
with each new breath the wrinkles
pursue insanity before it goes pop POP and
vegetarians on the steps of quaint honour eat the words of all carnivorous stature
not holding hands but gloved they vomit on the other self-less
selfish self strange confusion whom ride their political humanitarian waves
of un-determined rights and munch deep inside half of what
they will say say say discuss draw upon
in their haven of heavenly pursuits idealistic enough for justification
desisting at righteousness when it's not wrong, right?
young girls descry their dreams under the sea only through innocent lamb eyes
and with the mermaids they will swim love swim
until their imagination is darkened
now inside older dress play laughter play becomes memory
memory memory fantasy the end is closer now
is this enough to escape from the rocket into the devils fingers?
through the sharing of this pen i will sing not shower the organic fruits of prosperity
in quandary however
prison is not your home if you take these drugs
you saddened human are you too cold are you
too cold?
don't open your eyes take these drugs drugs drugs and
get a job job job and stop stop oh please stop those doe weeping eyes
crying is a secret shh it's in vain
hush now you're laughing too much you're insane
inside of the computers are soaking faces that laugh lurch leech and here we have death
to die death will finalise these orbits
they were dead before conception now the greatest fear
will continue continue continue to serve as a mysterious armageddon
storm blackfire explosion of whys, torments and tremendous hunts for
each each love fear love hate hope power power power
i am not alone there is much left to lose
i am alone there is nothing left to even whisper a stale, 'good bye.'

2010-09-08T19:34:00.000-07:00

silver girl gliding in the air
even shadows take blame
for frenzied words

hair of one million pearls
i wonder, why is she made of magic
and i know, that is all that she is

inside of this dream
where delicate pleasing is at home
this is beauteous in stone

dear prince i've put batty in a jar
cherished in harmony
it's safe there

stalks are in blossom
over each supreme valley
it's peace here

2010-09-08T06:06:00.000-07:00

This is something special
The sky is with the sea
Don't move it's very nice
Closer to the stars now
Closer to the stars

2010-09-06T20:45:00.000-07:00

I'm in venus
With a tiger covered in snow
My twin stayed in destiny
She's blown up like a balloon
The aliens told me that I can't love their predicament if I ever want to go home

2010-09-06T19:14:00.000-07:00

the power of glory is beneath the shutters glued to the idea that it is stuck until the sun insists on pounding it's god-filled expression in the space that connects us all, on the flip-side of this spherical unit. civilisation dances time-lessly as one even though the sons and daughters separate their tears from laughter and cower at this place of endless romanticism and truths. it might be the home valued by colourful delinquents, scoundrels and genius but to exist without knowing, along with quenching upon the dust filled grey rain and empty owl snores aquaints that these mornings are as individual as destruction or the creation of new hearts. a man showering in the water flowing from the sky is heavy from the nothing that stretches from the skin that wraps up his soul. his human-suit is demanding when frequent thoughts contradict what efforts can be made in escaping the droning, incomplete mitigation of comparable lives and whether it be the size is too big or too small, the success of this moment announces to applaud only that: it is still here. with relentless instruction his attention pursuits away from the same old white shirt and cold denim jeans he dresses in day-by-day only to the brushing whirls of selfish behaviour that's soaping through the nightmare on the angry footpath in this dead city. with each supplement in the motion of stepping forward comes a new turn of whoring in this strange morning and as he lifts his chin his gaze learns the menu of the street. the covers of each paper that is to tell the world the news shouts out cries of bullshit to his adjusted eyes, and the needy technological escapism or reality is too apparent to not be a part of. towering magnetism upholds this time with mass but as further he travels a cloud of charitable sugar snaps alienation quietly into a growing calmness of a deep slow exhale without the determined unholy focus. freshly shed green prickles of lawn erode familiar delight of the purpose of pruning and a golden sun peaks between the respected buildings of the concrete towers in view, as if to smirk at the shame that is predicted with each sorrowful blast of mistake drawn from any obsession in his passage. as he walks faster into his day, it is not unusual that it's not so bad.

2010-08-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

mad fools talk the room
these messy ideas are only enough to keep our feet warm and bored
it's darkness without you
if only absent of touching your lips
i feel the world moving through your love
as if it's been slaughtered by own heart
is this the last time to ever see the moon take you?
the finality of owning battered fault?
it takes time to demolish the kill
the lone beat that could perhaps never end
like riding the shotgun of death
sailing the journey shooting through your chest
by teasing the trigger and fucking it so hard
that it hurts so much i could never drown
but swallow the entity of every ocean in every place
straight to the capture of this end
i felt your hands so far from mine
and this soaring is so slow that perhaps it is stuck
my name is in hell now
and i wish that i was dead instead

2010-08-18T07:10:00.000-07:00

the dreamers are in a wasteland
monsters have home on their new clothes
their thoughts are misunderstood
flagging suspicious alarms in moments of sincerity
the fields of desire
hold blazes and grave trial
and the caliber of this tendency
does not feel so special
you can be scared if you want to
but little girl
little boy
greatness is the height of expectation
that which you find in yourself
and these nightmares do not exist
alone from the specter of fancy notion
packed numbers now worldy
inside the once loving garden bed
distinct that lust is not no longer aloud
in a palm you can share
but the dreamers are flipping
and the wasteland is not alone on this plain

2010-07-21T03:17:00.000-07:00

the man was dripping
lit cries of abandonment mocking down on his suit
disbarment of the greatest bond;
the real love, the one that runs through your blood
addressing settled for not the home built on his verve
nor that which gave fuel for the beauty of a smile
oh to be invisible may have been for dignity
but class without appetite owns nothing of playfullness
for what was left was lower than the stool of tragedy
all empathy was dressed in grey shades
all disaster in chains
to make animation of the wither
and cataracts of the agony
young man i'm sorry
young man i'm sorry.

2010-07-20T19:46:00.000-07:00

he said that today was a dream
and we could laugh
even if we wanted to fade out the shadows of our friends
so that they would feel alone too
he said that my heart was coloured in by the patterns
of every one of his favourite colours
i wondered if he was afraid to die
i cried and sang with elation
each tear cast a wave of tricks on the strangers
who looked too shocking
he gave me honey
and i put it in my tea
when it was in my mouth i looked down under the table
this was in love and it was too soon
to dance with a celebration of any close
i said that i didn’t believe in angels
but sometimes the world is so bright
that i could paint them,
and they would look real
he said that everything has it’s own shape
but only because it needs to curl inside of another safe garden
and hear the best song ever written
we went to the moon and held hands
when i looked down my eyes held the farthest bloom
and i worried that if it was kept in my pocket
with all of the other secrets
they would get muddled
and turn into lies
he fell to his feet
like his toes were drowning through the stories
the sparkles on the roof of the universe were in a hurry
and he said that this was fun.

2010-06-17T03:59:00.000-07:00

the world is hungry
wafting the soup of the savior
the leader
that is meant to lead us all
is getting wasted, on ignorance and wanking
the weasel,
like a dickhead
without any fun
just being a crack
like one you would find in a toilet
a fucking turd
without relevance to anything i hold necessary
if you can't balance
the wind will tear you down
and no cheap tricks
can prevent low side faces
shit dreams that deliver weakness
with milky moods
and chodes
fat fucks of nothing
that should give me all their money
so that i can have what i want
or my loves can finish their baths under these storms
and we can all reclaim the keys
that once belonged to us
because we will no longer be gone
as we will be back

2010-06-17T03:35:00.000-07:00

loungin' in this seat of utter dislike
this is my throne,
thank you very much
it's been rented
for this overdoes
of normality
that i paid for in caffeine
and not dope
darling,
i'm my own punishment
and getting high was something that came with the space
that was found
when someone left
a comfortable fill of movement
i adopted it when i let love leave
and for that i'm sorry
saying farewell is a good bye
a bad-less
that burns sober, and
i'm afraid to cry
because i don't know what that means
a lullaby with no sleep
is not a nice song
and it's been so long
since
the sun has raised us up
the sky seems so far away
and until i resign this fill
i'm without hands,
to hold

2010-06-14T06:26:00.000-07:00

THE KITCHEN

my love is big
and it's
much easier when i'm not
one of those thieves
we're in the kitchen way too much
sometimes
it seems
one more minute in the kitchen
and i will be stealing much more than bacon
that knife that is expensive
will rip out our hearts when i
stab it through your chest
i hate the fucking kitchen
the kitchen used to be my favourite room in the house
however it's shrinking;
shrinking is hell!
let's leave the kitchen!

2010-05-31T09:24:00.000-07:00

after all of the sub manipulations
the chunk of kingdoms can dominate
leave leave leave
ointment on the christians palms
when they die
rough riders cannot feel safety
in their own minds
that is not one hundred percent true
not so much for the blue bells
unless they come to you while you slumber
peace is conscious of nothing
i wake up from bed
and step over the cross
i'm not talking about jesus
i'm never talking about jesus
even when i claim importance upon his name
if there's a next world i'll see when i get there
for now we've found dancing
and we'll try to eat well until we're clean

2010-05-31T08:13:00.000-07:00

VIRGIN GIRL COUNTING HIS ALL SOAKING FLAVOUR

it tastes sour, does it?
like lemons,
lemons in
chains;
the unripened
fruits
of virginal
locks,
draped in prisons fare,
and
held upon policing
their own vaginas.

the bulging
pink
ante chamber of sex,
which
could be so
wholesome
is cracking;
the pins
colliding atramentous
dust
on her mouths tongue,
is tasting of
cocoa
not the charcoal
which demands
it so.

a flatulent stock
multiplying
behind open eyes,
can not love
anything
of delicious sweetness,
nor display ebony
breasts
clouded in cream.

state-crafting has
amounted
to watering cheese,
in the southern pubic region
of a princess,
not to see it's influence
on
the poor no ones.

she can not be queen until
she fucks
and if she does it
wrong
she is but
a whore.

these animals famine love,
but apt only
lust.

and so they cry,
they weep
and they feed,
giggle and whisk,
ample for freedom,
but crave for nesting.

a golden finger
will paste addressing
on the grooves
with drinking,
freezing
the eering
democratic violence
of your woman.

she is yours,
and
sadness
shall not keep
her,
but will
chase.

2010-05-10T04:59:00.000-07:00

LADDERS THROUGH OUTER SPACE

what, is the point? what is your point?
i can find no point, no not one, not one point.
not one poke, not one poke of one point, not one place,
with one point.

your heaven is no point, your heaven is not there, or here.
your heaven is built of an idea, but your idea has not yet been thought.
your heaven has a point, one day, one day your heaven has a point.
how dazzling could the imagination in the future be?
it's destiny climbs great cliffs using ladders
ladders with points, your ladder has a point.
you shall climb a ladder to your heaven,
and that is your point.

2010-05-10T04:42:00.000-07:00

FULL

such sadness is prominent, all of the time
'what is off?' - you won't say
'what is else?' - you won't say
neither will you be crying for a reason other than despair!

you will be tired of all of your hunger
and piggish with all of your screeching
but there's no slumber in a cell
why me why me why me

hysteria! derangement!
what else to do but BE CRAZED!
the INSANITY the FOLLY
the LUDICROUS-NESS
i'll kill you i'll kill you i'll kill you

2010-04-14T04:51:00.000-07:00

there's too much time going
it's going through the darkness

so i'm selling this gift for my love and a roast

buying this roast for a life with my love

the power marvels the tides

how's trading my soul for heresy?

dogma dogma dogmata

time travel time travel time travel

whatever whatever whatever

stop

2010-04-07T06:59:00.001-07:00

2010-03-31T03:11:00.001-07:00

..and on the eighth day we were blinded by romanticism

2010-03-23T00:26:00.003-07:00

WE ARE ALL CHAMPIONS

we are all champions
we will notice this from when the canvas was set
we are all dolls
yet time can not exist without life

i know what is going to happen
i felt the boy and his innocence was yellow
such prediction is empty
i promise that everything will cease in perfection

you can make any girl happy, even is she is you
we are all the same
we are all the same
we are all the same

somehow our relations have been lost in circumstantial growth
however i will announce: nothing is bad
you are the champion
you are the champions

2010-03-22T04:40:00.000-07:00

was i looking for god?
hustling through the arc jungle, only with my head down
bolting infinity
into fucking hell

the maze is made of masks
the same patterns i found in my skin
but i am blind to nothing
there are only halves by division

why am i running?
he wants you to look in the mirror
this body is a drip
he wants you to look in the mirror

i found god
and we were binding with the circus
i found nothing
take off all your clothes

oh flawless narrative
you cannot exist where i need
every circle is a trap
i don't want to know anymore

it will never stop
it will never start
it will never stop
it will never start

i found everything
the eyes of a doe and the spirit of a flame
a goddess in love
my heart was birthed in fire

2010-03-17T01:39:00.000-07:00

truly leaving the buildings with black windows, i pace down all individual steps, away from goddess appeal, in front of blank holes. the ladies like the buildings, the men in their seeds. some shackles are born now and some put sleep.

the same goes for me, too.

i set up a home, but i didn't bring my hands along. i forgot their necessity when leaving, and the distance back did not seem worth the distress of reconstruction. this illness was worse, the other a pseudo task on my imagination. as expected, the illness spread without honor. the plaster on the walls began to bubble and the floor boards started to sicken. without hands i could mend nothing damaged, neither gruesome nor sympathetic. the pain of a bed in dirt, a body drenched with cramps and rain water inside of my shoes, sent me on the search to find new hands.

i found some and they smelt like ribbons, then they smelt like hats, then they would hide. i found some and they smelt kittens, and then they smelt like cats, and then they died.

when i next opened my eyes i was too dry. to lubricate enough to walk would take weeks, fortunately, weeks i had found, but that's another story

weeks later i initiated working on a penitentiary to call my own. the palace of this disaster made love to my arms. and i would spin inside and out like a mess of my creation. a mess that was medicine for my eyes, sending millions of strings through all the layers of my skin. each string an expression triumphing bunnies learning lessons, a texture shrinking clouds on my feet. the folds of my arms wrapped across them with instinct and the more i stroked them the more space was mine. sliding vibrations in my internal self and adding rhythm to trees, i'd learnt to live without my hands.

as expected the medicine spread, and as i least expected, not soon after, small fingers began to fall from my wrists, and then they fell longer and complex.

one morning i awoke and looked at them with disbelief, they bloomed for a queen and they bloomed for me. then i fell under the sea.

clap clap

2010-03-17T00:32:00.000-07:00

SOLITUDE OF A MAN

why not destroy the charity in your mans heart and thus lead him to possible eternal death?
THE CARELESSNESS IS A SIN IS IT NOT?
the future plan a myth;
the lesson of a fable that should not be repeated: A WASTE OF SPACE: if you are not alive anyway
cannot slither solemnly into a tear
can tear through time though
and then not be seen as
god previously intended
even after destruction.
fin.

2010-03-11T02:49:00.000-08:00

WE'VE GOT TO TRAIN OUR BODIES TO DO THE THINGS THAT SATISFY OUR SOULS, BITCHES

OR:

THE RAILWAY GOES TO HELL, MOTHERFUCKER

2010-02-16T06:48:00.001-08:00

low form, i'll not dare speak out of turn
what are the creatures screeching, so out of time?
please tell them to shut the fuck up!
i didn't know, i didn't know
where are all of these shifts coming from?
they're melting all aggression, i think
oh i think my external face is bruising up
a giant castle is touching herself in the distance
and i think
oh i think that it's lights are not off
she's the reason for heaven and an answer
i'll discover another sun
and something will feel this way, this way again

2010-02-16T02:31:00.001-08:00

2010-02-02T00:09:00.000-08:00

bastards! bastards everywhere!

2010-02-01T02:54:00.000-08:00

as i sat there opening with the boy, i caught conducting from the corner of my eye, enchantment has planted seeds for darling. it made me feel sad though, and i think that it was the realisation that every time it will always feel the same, when anyone looks at anything from the same place. i believe that in the future i will try to find those dreams i am suffering to combust, if in fact i do combust them. i thought i put the mirrors everywhere to make me feel safe, but i will only stop screaming when i smash them

i mean: how long are old trees going to last?
maybe forever, but maybe isn't made from stone.
i saw you throw that brick at him;
and him laughed until he died.
there's exaggeration and malice;
little her is staying in bed until her dies.

2010-01-27T21:50:00.002-08:00

HEY! AN EMPTY CANNON SHOT miniature BOULDERS towards all of your hearts (they are tiresome) we are not so shallow but we walk less no waiting waiting or running running (a pitchfork through my face) grinding the energy together till it flips out! and blunders through the sunshine and the moonlight back and forth back and forth forth and back one day you will see that where you come from doesn't need to be a time SIGH your head he is in debt please come here when you are all ready i miss you inside of my heart.

2010-01-18T06:52:00.000-08:00

LOVE SPACE

hyperactivity is at a low, although we can have whatever we want

this home we're sharing appears so alive; my nose can indicate more than what would simply be assumed a hot and dry taste. a charismatic presence could be a treat, but the sweetness is a fable to me.

there is realism in my approach, and yours, and all, yet it's reality is only existent by keeping both eyes open, when we can see that the sun is on fire

it's itchy on the surface under my left foot, but the pleasure from my nails doesn't ripple through the cotton, although i know that it can

tomorrow is tuesday and for the first time, i will sing with a woman who doesn't need a metaphorical blessing, or even the touch of innocence. i asked her why she can conduct with such statue, and she told me that i when i was dreaming i didn't need to be so scared. i asked her why she was so beautiful, and she asked me why i cared

is not happiness, finding beauty?

happiness is being beauty

then why are you so beautiful?

the only place left is to put my eyes into the sea

2009-10-17T00:04:00.000-07:00

those/that Ghost(s) are/is p eeking on satisfaction (hysteria),

in the centre of the room is a clear shiny spoon

'I'll build you a grand house and take you away.' Perfect words only belong in a masterpiece full of pictures.

'Sorry?' I'll wait for you, while i feed myself glasses of anodyne.    

'Take my hand, tomorrow.' Take your hand, tomorrow/Tomorrow.

'They needn't know,' (that i'm not a ballerina.)

2009-10-16T23:45:00.000-07:00

yes sir, i will be your robot

USING OUR DEPTH OF PROBABILITY AND PREDICTION we could find a theory to say that the destiny of humanity is to be an automated system of programmed reactions (essentially what we are already), but without the urge and passion. every negative issue that relates to humanity is because of humanity, it seems, and the only answer (away from the insertion of the anti-human), is to delete what it is that makes us human in the first place (become the anti-human).

during close inspection and rigid transference, the discovery and creation of finer detail blurs in graspable tangles (that are only acceptable due to their comparable enlightening exposure.) through the production of this creation, a fuzzy buzz of tender acceleration implodes a familiar yet unique shudder of pressure, pain and pleasure. without external temperature or sensation, slightly licking glorified sensuality, speckles fallen from shards of stars presented via communication of visual texture, spray each possibly way, but still remaining as a singular force. they dance with symmetrical brilliance in a deep elegance, and as an image of completion, they slide in and out of an infinite and beautiful leap, and rest on the fox in the field.

throughout this lightening cloud i rise. feet of already blossoming vines are no where to be seen and the field grows, weakening encouragingly into the distance...

2009-10-11T02:43:00.000-07:00

one
it's impossible to stab the absolute, there is no weapon to be seen and i am not even there (at that time). do you realise that they can only be together if they are apart? the phenomenism of this dagger will not take my head from wanting to suffocate it's lifetime with the paranoia that is folding around the darkest nest i've seen. as a requirement i am the victim and the genocidal maniac, but that doesn't make any sense.

two
i will not stop smoking cigarettes for a while

three

five
there's a man bleeding on the roof, i can't see him anymore but i can hear him. i can hear these terrifying screeches, swimming like lasers through the sea and reaching my ears under the sand. so sporadic, yet morphing with an incredible angular awareness of precision and order, although not an order that i understand. there are extreme flashes of desperation and they are tugging at my own tense exasperation, while i run as fast as i can in the opposite direction. i'm blushing from head to toe from so many steps, and tiny crystals of sweat are being pushed out of my skin. my feet are so hot and moist, that their dank heat alludes to me feeling the stench. my heals feel ripped and bruised, oxygen is becoming a problem, the tight pull of pain in my stomach is affecting my grace, and yet i run. and i run. and then i walk. and then i sleep. and then i wake. and all i can hear is the sound of my world, and this silence is a rainbow.

2009-09-27T22:35:00.000-07:00

standing at this station is boring i feel highly disinterested

the grass across the tracks looks wholesomely soft from here, yet, at each peak, just before each bristle reaches it's highest vertical limit of physical connection with the outlying nitrogen and oxygen, it appears subtly spiky, but, it regains vulnerability from it's bright flourish of kindergarten green. the green reminds me of the colour of a tiny, innocent elf, or the leprechaun doing nothing at the bottom of the rainbow. the shades, however, lose that chastity once more, with their association to the colour of dope, inside of a cigarette if it was a cartoon, or, with it's analogous similarity to the colour of the sound of two fresh, evergreen leaves fucking in winter, over a field lubricated with dew if you could bottle that creation and sniff it until you were cuming yourself

this admiration observation is not bad, it wreaks no ref-usability, in fact, the pure innocence of that colour, aroused by it's apposing, adventurous animal, interprets an aspect of a golden glow, making it not so much a sensational vibrant green, but a magical colour, that you would swim through, if you knew how to get inside

the stance is still boring, though

i just need to discover enough conclusive evidence, to make sure that i am not using my imagination we truly are starting to rise

he's been having a hard time lately

she's been having a hard time lately

it can endure very challenging to not get caught up in the act of reflection of admiration

your brain is not as big as a highway, but the highway can fit in your brain

it's too much, is it too much?

2009-09-04T03:23:00.000-07:00

dance to the strum of my hands, you little pritty. tap tap pat, feel the beat jiving under your perfect skin and spin your wrists until your hands turn warm. roll your toes in a sphere, around that ring. everything that is inside that ring is yours and you can keep it. twirl it's grace inside your drink and sip it's delicate texture. gulp it all up until there is only tiny pebbles fit for tiny creatures. get drunk off of my full heart, i don't want it anymore. i think i'm new and it was meant for the past. or if i'm the same i'm that robot because i'm not in control of the direction. i'm in-hate innate incased and infatuated, like a blossom, trailing behind on a path that i designed but i can't find the stems. i erased them when i shut my eyes because i don't want to leave. not only did i show you the door but i built it. i planned it, i placed it and i protected it. i'm in search of rapture and you're electrified by the impassioned affray of hell. it's a jumble. i'm still here because i found love, and you are not here because you don't exist. coincidentally we're in the same place, and it sends pain howling from under my face to under to beneath my small chest. i can't find sleep and i've started looking again. there's no one to take care of me if there are so many palms in my hand and i'm tired. i'm so sleepy but my eyes won't shut, because in the morning i don't know if i'll be able to open them. touch my fingers can you feel them? they're shaking, and those drips are tears because i can cry and i am. i was born but i won't go to heaven, because when you die you disappear. when you are alive you disappear, even if they can see you. i'm not here, but yes you can hold my hand.

2009-08-13T19:37:00.000-07:00

the other day when i opened my eyes i laughed because i had dodged the path of the spectral welcoming. i found another new form of expression away from conformed language and it wasn't doom. this always gives you a kick. so why is there a tall man in a suit, standing outside my window

are we so high that nothing captivates us anymore? or the only matter stimulating enough to galvanize isn't even real, or is too special to break

i opened the window and put my dream right through, like it was a big star, like i was hungry

there was a definitive comfort dressed around his jacket, but it was crying like torture, vexing

"irony is not for the wacky."

"what's it for, then?"

it's been said that you become a man when you are without your own, i looked around and around, there was nobody in there

-O

"what's that for?"

seven minutes ago and the plants will be reparation, seven minutes ago in past-future imagination

the tall man in a suit is not an aphotic daredevil, he is a reverence and has become my phobia

2009-08-05T23:11:00.000-07:00

IF I WAS AN ALIEN

i’d fuck up that robotic value, to the colour of blue. it’s clear water and it is completely empty, i’ll do it right now

my mind appears to have a paradox for each of the five confirmed human senses

it’s near perfection for moulding in here. can you can see me rape? it’s beautiful, like LSD sex in San Francisco in the 60’s. i’m so smooth and subtle, yet sexy and overwhelming. melting through the spectrum of blues that erupted as soon as we touched, i realise, this is pain to not touch them. i want to touch them so badly. they look so soft, like clouds, but the colour is vibrant, like the perfect rainbow. inspiriting. inspiring. their curves and fine lines meld so gently. light blue tubes inside lighter ones and circling the darkness as it fades, combining and joining, sinking together and becoming one. why are they so visually stimulating? a cat wouldn’t care. i progress to enrich, spilling droplets into waves of my deep liquid, and I admire them growing brighter. an honest view dealer, it’s better than the lowering answer to escape from hell. it’s either heaven or hell if you’re smart enough to not get lost in between. and once you’ve treated that liberation and you realise that neither exist, you are fighting for your place, your dignity, your rights. and you won’t find love, because love doesn’t exist in a pure world away from the impact of political influence, fear, forced media emotion or false perception of reality. nor does it exist because you feel lust, sex and art. the nightmare of your society creates the need for hope away from suffering civilization, and this is the creation of the image of love. the sub conscious purpose the middle-man/woman dreams to grasp in their growth on your planet. the feeling of connection, understanding and parallel influence, which brings contentment, satisfaction and relief. in the humans best mind is the only place one can find real love, and that mind is free. freedom doesn't exist with need or want. it could be that humans were not built for love, and in reflection not for your planet. and the corruption of the natural essence of Earth is an effect of the inability to be satisfied with what you have been given, or what you have been given to, and in loop a continuous cause. your search for hope and your desire for love could be a response of not having acceptance of the way previous and current humans have handled not having on hand what they require for fulfillment. in this case, there is no answer, there is no right or wrong, heaven or hell. ultimately you are in hell. the humans you were no longer exist and the future is also near perfection for moulding. accept and 'love', seek justice and die. fight to not accept and question. if i was an alien.

2009-07-06T06:13:00.000-07:00

2009-06-30T02:01:00.000-07:00

2009-06-28T06:22:00.000-07:00

2009-05-28T07:43:00.000-07:00

hey, what is it that you are doing

what is it that you are doing

hey

2009-05-27T03:06:00.000-07:00

and if a further educated person would tell me where jesus was, i'd thank the man for his over-awarded glory and convenient absence. and i would also ask him if he thinks that his fame is puissant, or if he's considered himself and his prestige maybe don't have that much in common (anymore)

2009-03-09T22:06:00.000-07:00

i can see small animals creeping on the floor boards. all they ever do is chase for (s)crap(s). i hand them death disguised as snacks because they make me feel uncomfortable. never resting, rarely in smooth, sleepy paradise. bed time is an illusion, patronising idealism. a breathing body with her eyes shut, alive eyes with her mind closed. a cylinder wrapped in silky skin. in the end someone is going to find me, but if only they would start hunting now. i am right here in the sun. the corner of this glory box is dusty. all the whores only let there shoes here, i am sitting down. the dust would surround me in a castle if the time passed, i reckon. climb gravity and incase me in some cute walls. what's a castle if it's made of dust and in secret; a good castle? a bad castle? okay, it's an okay castle, i think. can i put a bullet in your leg if the nerves are not operational. is the blind man broken because he can't see, or is the blind man fine but the world broken because it needs him to see. can i numb myself to fit between the lines, or should i lie down and close both eyes. squint at your vanity but giggle like a girl, always finding beauty in the leaves. how am i? i'm good thanks, i'm sitting in the sun. how are you?

2009-03-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

my cigarette is emaciated not plump, friends, it's famished! but i didn't starve it. could be compared to a rail, however then emphasis would be lost on its ascendancy. it's tuesday, which means i will not deceive, nor will i allow it to command your opinion. but it is tuesday, so it is also agreeable to say that i am not god, if in fact i have the ability to know whether or not a deity and/or deities exist (especially before enlightenment)

2009-03-09T22:01:00.000-07:00

great
my thank you
behind not even
in the past long away

in the island

damage that's helpful
i was here
floral falling lovely and thank you very much
perfect laughter that's it

it's like an english garden in there
correct

ask question
mistake

we've come to the wrong place hide

it's so comfortable here
surprise
made
it ready

2009-02-09T16:22:00.000-08:00

oooooo
ooooooooo
ooo nicenicenooo
oooi _ _ io
oo
z
z

ooc o o c oo z z z
e I e
n < n i c e_e c i d noitcurtsestruction ottttE o o tt i i tt t ttttttttttto

c c
u u
r t s e d e s t r
c c
i i
n n
d d
e e
s s
t t
r r
niotcu uctoin

2009-01-27T06:48:00.000-08:00

2009-01-25T01:35:00.000-08:00

jammed

a lavish man walked into a bar
a sweet beer please

placed the lavish on the bench
tapped his tongue on the plastic

an implosion imploded the tavern
left without the lavish

2009-01-25T01:23:00.000-08:00

landslide on your man-side

up with magic tricks. tragic dicks. plaintive chicks
tragic dicks inside plaintive chicks
covetous comrade eating flat tits

fooling on a nest with one hundred birds
profuse profuse profuse

2008-12-14T02:28:00.000-08:00

2008-12-01T03:52:00.000-08:00

AURELIUS STARFUCKER

this is for you

attention attention

so i decided to build a train out of lamps but the first carriage was way too hot. then a flash was zapped into the lightbulb situated in my temporal lobe: inside this law abiding planet which we are captive, heat rises! so rise we shall! that marks off china and crosses out the ice, i can't be bothered digging and there is no muscles under my skin for pyramid constructing. what to do what to do what to do. selling my possessions on the black market will get us more lamps, we'll cut out our kidneys for food. we'll dance and jive on the street for petty cash and we'll put jungle juice in the air conditioner till we reach the stars! when we reach the first planet together we'll build it a name, the remanence of earth will stretch their necks up in vain, we'll notify our friends and send them the train, and they will do the same. and again.

love jessirose.

p.s. bring your monkey and funky clothes.

2008-11-24T23:39:00.000-08:00

so, i think it is safe to say, that i have come to the following conclusion in response to the task at hand:

i do not believe a bomb in the core is the cure. but yes, little girl in the front row, i do believe there is some solution in rainbows.

2008-10-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

scheme sucker, surrender somber

pass the sticks leech
the lemonade just flew from the cup
false
bitch pass the stick
the lemonade cried on my chest again

dear girl
this adventure is no vegetable
i wish you would soak your face with bleach
cleanse the poison, clear the rash!

oh my tshirt is soaked
now it's turned green
thank you for my dignity
stalk this sex, it tastes so clean

i want to vomit the splattered verity
but it is sweating in my pants
manifest this sucker
fancy having this chance

i taste so sweet
like a fuck damn godsend
loaded, i'm a treat
libido needs a ravishing friend

my veins are full of honey
heart is empty, stinking joke
i'll sink you with a river
drown me with a poke

2008-10-22T21:04:00.000-07:00

today i climbed up a telephone pole and disconnected all the lines
children are tying to capitalize my mind
this drone is not a nice song
that drone is not stopping it's a moan going on
i would go eat rat poison but then i'd be sick
jump off a cliff or suck a dick
plait my toe nails if they would only grow
stab them through my eye balls, projectile another throw
but there is solitude in a self created cell
even if it's built from vanity, insanity, even if it is in hell
i'll simply finger this scar on my knee
take me back to before i ate the happy
the fence is still cream and the bugs are still boring
the brother's still aroused by unprotected mourning

2008-10-22T02:04:00.000-07:00

Trickety Trick and (Her) Magic Stick

we are all sinking on the tip of this silver mountain, covered with distress!
i do not sob but pine in a clever dress
our lips are curved with twists, and our ducts are stop-stopping,
the sight of a deer hunter, our needs are a-popping
you and her, you're showering in obsession,
not me, i'm cowering in oppression

hey! i can't stand this!

but we don't slice the ice, no,
just shatter, scream, dream, fucking christ
all these white girls, adjourned of chastity,
surreal and surrounded in giant height, yet frozen of clarity
you and them are dissolving from stage to stage,
my age is deeper, silent torture, i don't know how to own the rage

we're a cloud of pity, a blank-blanket of inferior,
i want to be queen, but only at dawn am i superior
at dusk right now, i'm about to cry,
a failing bitch, rest my chest one day i shall fly