two lane blacktop

Faust is in my mind again, I cant help wondering why I think of him
Dante is there too, making sure I clean my room
Dorian speaks to the painting on the wall
while Kurtz is hiding to the jungle tall

there's leadbelly playing on his old guitar
same with son house and the letter jj
my sweetheart was a gambling man
I see a doctor in the mirror above me Seuss

Kierkegaard knows how to love
Nietczche thinks of his mega man
while Kerouac runs freely on the two lane blacktop
Stoker writes his villain, Universal pays the man

While gillis takes center stage
meg knows the way to play
jung was there in the audience
speaking to some French girl

Freud is at home with his books and his wine
telling stories of a turbulent time
Shelley writes what she knows so best
There's Poe sitting on a park bench

All these people
all their life
made sacrifices to prove their right
my time has come to let them flow
the time is now, please don't make me frown

the pills

the man wakes up from his slumber
he finds what he was looking for on the desk beside him
this will ease the pain
this will take me far away

the pills are manageable
they go down smooth
a whole pack full
down so smooth

he lays back on his bed
waiting for his time to come
his body grows numb
he forgot to tell them all

the pills take hold
his mind trails off
ready to take a flight
into the great unknown

he closes his eyes one last time
the pills do their job\
his eyes close
he is done

he sees a flash of light through his eyes
its just too late, the event is calm
they're just too late\
they're just too late
a man of many virtues falls

pitch 2

When you\re the richest guy in Arkansas, people tend to treat you a little different. Living as a millionaire in the suburbs is just as rough. You neighbor seems to be watching your every move, while your wife is sleeping with your cabana boy. You've got a gut full of jelly an d your balding. So you start up a night club for the people your age. But it isn't as it seems, when your clientele end up  being vampires and nocturnal creatures drunk with power and thirsty for blood. Just a day in the life of Victor. Ain't that sumpthing.

broom

in the event of my forlorn doom
I ask you to show me the broom
to sweep up the floor
and tidy your room

mama works hard everyday
putting food on the table for you and your kin
make mama proud and do your own laundry
get involved around the house

but I don't want to do the dishes
I want to play til my heart desires
is that fair or unknown
let me know so I don't go

the words they bleed out of every pore
thinking about a time we thought more
when will the whispers n the background stop
I'm trying to watch jean luc, and tarantino and welles

the whisper goes  louder and i'm going insane
making my back break full of ungodly disdain
the moment of truth, I sit back and listen
pour me some lovin, aint love such a distance

pitch

A firefighter by day
A folk singer by night
now all he has to do is find a way away from his crazy mother
and the rest of the cohabitants of his home
balancing three girlfriends and a boyfriend on the side
stepping foot into a fire hasn't been so entertaining since andy Warhol painted a banana

That's Harry for you.

discourse

I often wonder what it means to be on this Earth, this planet in this solar system. It's so vast and we are just so tiny. we are destiny. the hope that the mechanics of our everyday life change the majority of what happens in the unconscious collective. This collective is known among us whether it be a thought or action, we are all connected and sometimes its happenstance to change our environment. Our thoughts, together, can change nature. We are able to communicate with animals in this sense as well.

Once your mind unconsciously thinks of something, the environment around us focuses on that thought. A noise triggers the isolation of the thought and it deems it to be the idea of that moment to be true. Physics works the same way, people are connected via magnetic forces and are drawn together. Like the song in Citizen Kane, action has attraction magnates on the run. We are all each others universe. What we see influences something occurring in our lives. A familiar face, a certain action and even feelings of melancholia. Nausea perhaps. The concept of mind language is a familiar one, it may be deemed entirely psychical if not purely coincidental. The notion of ESP and airwaves send a philosopher mad. ESP is a psychical approach to reading a person's character and a situation that either has happened via deja vu or dreamt of in a nocturnal thought process.

my woman

You are my woman
I love you so
Never let you go
I love my woman

she combs her hair
I see her there
she makes me happy
I love my woman

a pretty heart
a meaningful soul
we can start this together
I love my woman

she caresses me when I'm down and out
she leaves me speechless when I see her in the morning
without any makeup
I love my woman

we grew together
a boy and a girl
forever each other
I love my woman

and I think she loves me, too

sugar plum fairy

the times are rolling
people getting high in the streets
where are you?\
people rolling joints
where were you?
people smoking camels
It is you.
don't ever let yourself go
because the fall will be worse than the nausea
the retching in the morning
the climb up the building to the 34th floor
you look down and all you sense is freedom
away from it all
lost
and then
she stops you
she calls your name
she gives you a signal
and she's your angel
the one you wished for all this time
she takes your hand, away from the ledge
and she holds you
caresses you
loves you
and then everything turns into heartbeats
love is blooming
she saved your life but she had to leave
to save the next poor soul on the ledge

she is sugar plum fairy

and she lives to save lives for those who just couldn't take it anymore.

hold on

Our time in the world is based on the Beings we encounter. Ourselves and understanding how human nature works is crucial, not only with human contact, but with the energy that surrounds us via electronic signals and wavelengths. We are human creatures whom admire ourselves under what we have been told to accept over the outcome of our lives. We are molded by education to be productive in groups for money and the American dream but many get lost in their own minds and feel as though their potential is obsolete and their worth is negative to the world. It's not worth giving up yet because our Being will guide us to the proper transitions that we desperately need fulfillment to succeed within. It takes time to accept the negativism of day to day life but we triumph when our goals are completed. We stand back to the sidelines to see what the world has to tell us. And most of the time, if you feel like you are doing well, things around you, things that you've hardwired into your brain, will become noticeable and attainable as long as you hold on and keep the dream alive.


sincerely,

Phenom the ologist

squirrel

the ruins of the forest began to shrink into the soil of the marsh
they were halfway sunk with only just a few inches above ground level
the squirrel saw this as an opportunity and decided to harvest his food supply in a dug out near the ruins
no man would ever be able to see it and neither could the vicious eagles hunt it from above
the squirrel just kept gathering food, and shelter and hoped one day it would meet another squirrel to share his fortunes with down near the ruins
he would share with the chipmunks, even though he knew what his goal was
his goal was to build a home, not a place in some off ruins, but a home in a cataclysm of ancient stones
one day, before wiarton willy stuck his head above the ground, the squirrel found a chipmunk that he noticed from a distance, she was also gathering supplies for the winter, food and provisions.
they teased each other and chirped to one another about which tree bore more plentiful gatherings
and then the time had arrived when they both had to leave each other, away from the ruins and into their own livelihood. free to understand the rest of the forest, away from the ruins and into the great beyond.

heave

heave
lumber
stacks
shinny

dig it
done it
go away
live it

whisper
yell
jump
fall
into the land
of the monstrosity

judas, james, jeremiah
ken, kevin, kirk
last, lover, loved
happiness is just a flaming moe away

kiss, touch love, fly round
bottom, lies, drunken tomfoolery
invertebrate, cleverness, reduction
wailing the blues, sinful, lusting

jump back
hold on
ride the slide
live divine

okay youskeh
love you

4th street reconciliation

right means write dontit? I woke up this morning, and I couldn't find my novel. its called something like that I never heard of before, like really, wtf is a savant anyways. you are always talking to one and in the meantime you pretend you are one. but what are the odds of that. the cowboys will win the super bowl this season, I'm throwing up all my bets in as I vomit due to this melancholy bulimic urge of righteousness and esophagus flaring madness. when will I see a sign of hope. where were we when it happened. when the trip to the moon landed in the seven nation army headquarters above the alley way that Leo always looked out upon. it takes time to get into the nitty gritty aspect of a journalists point of view and I bet damn well he's ready for you to ingest all the anarchy of assimilation of words without welcome. it takes time and I'm oozing fat. bleeding from my feat to my heed, will this ever stop. I haven't been watching the news but I have been reading wells known newspaper. we have all the zeit in the world to find the Truth. But the zipper broke and I'm stuck wearing track pants and buttonflys.

LILY came home last night drunk again. She whispered in the doorman's ear and slid 20 rubles into his palm. She nodded her head as she allowed the doorman to accept and he nodded back to her, nodding halfway into a sleep inducing fuel of bananas and tangerines. She forgot his name and he didn't care, as long as that 20 rubles was in his pocket, she could have been all sick anyways. They either gonna love you or hate you, she caught herself thinking. It's been a while and she hasn't scored in about a year or so. LILY weeps at night but she holds a Theodore bear to comfort herself in her loneliness. She once dated a writer, who shook in bed, and she couldn't control her legs when sex climaxed. She kicked him off the bed twice and he would lay on the couch, watching cartoons and giggling. She slept, but that that was the past. No one would tell LILY what to do so she figured after him she'd relax and live a romantic single life with nobody except her Theodore bear. The writer moved on after LILY figured out he wasn't the right one, he was just right now for her. She accepted that, she wasn't in love and he was halfway to NY with no money in his pocket and just instinct. But now lily knew what she wanted in a man, it was a learning experience and she knew that and moved on. But its' been a  year and she's getting desperate for love. Just like those ladies you see on the teevee. Only online, never forgotten.


                                         Hey babe-sorry I couldn't call you-
                                         last night but things happened-and
                                        I don't really want to talk about them-
                                         she loves me, she loves me not-is all
                                         I've been singing so far-Martha stewart
                                         brought some herb and we made a casserole
                                         with it-I couldn't stand up for hours-
                                         Winston Churchill knew what happened
                                         just like that wannabe j.edgar-find love
                                         in facebook-never at home-always loved
                                         you are-tata for now you heathen you-


                                                                                               shine my shoes for a nickel,
                                                                                               Curtis von Jericho

dramatic dreamer part infinity

Has this dream stopped? Have I waited too long for the time to come when I will be at my utmostly most dignified whatsoever. I sit on the couch, but rather lay on the couch, reading books and eating my wheat. Have I lost touch with humanity, or am I just another victim of the medium? the television speaks code, so does the radio and so does the words in the collective universe we have adjoined ourselves within. The words they ramble and they make no sense. I could write a new hip pop song but I did that already. It's on here, yahkno. Still trying to find Sarah, but she'll blossom up real soon. I have just the person in mind, if she can handle my wreklesssssness. Grammar counts, but why bother. No one reads this anyways. Or do they? Every sign says yes but I can't put my finger on my nose quite enough. It's itchy, my nose. So I scratchy it up and yes, I can lay down the facts in Bulgarian and Russian and yahoolickem southern drawl. Does this street car stop here?

There she was, walking down the boulevard of doom, she never knew she could love again, but there he was, caught in the rain, mascara running down his eyes, his skin a yellow tinge. What else could he say to her except "Hello, I love you" but he heard that on a record he played at his mothers decades ago. "Hi," she said, "I'm Rebecca, what's your name sir." I told her that I forgot since I drank too much gin the night before. If your gonna do something, do it big, and get the hell outta there why dontcha. But back to the lady. She was nice, but got bored and there was nothing else I could do except just watch her walk away.

                       Hello again, what a nice day out it be.
                       don't you realize what this means to me-the fornication
                       behind closed doors-making mother- furious and in vain
                       do we get to choose which dice we throw-I hope your okay-
                       the words sweat out through my pores
                       I miss waiting for you, just call me once more, tell me your okay
                       Where else am I gonna go from here-let me know
                       dear god let me known


                                                                                                                    forever withit
                                                                                                                    mama cass

something like that

What the fuck just happened? The vile savages have taken me across the land rover jungle to describe in virtues the many mornings after the saddle man lays down his flute. Nixon was a shyster bastard, yet Trump will get back into office no doubt. From the scheming scheme artists to the Winnebago's crowding the white house. Bastards. Can't they see it coming. I drink my whiskey and gin but I don't anymore. I don't need to for it will all come to pass in the next day or so. I am my father's son. The brethren of the monstrosity of great magnitudes of wandering hypocrites in the silent era of Charlie Chaplin and the Buster Keatons out their to make ends meet because all we have is now. How can one think about a time like this or something like that. When will I sleep again. There are twice as many nights that I have forgotten to tell her about. the ape-man stops typing in formal settings and it's just one long sentence that keeps going on and on for its encore but why stop there. Holy Jesus what kind of mess have I gotten into now. I wrote the book on the seven seers yet there is an eighth one. Hell, give me an eighth of jack Daniels and we'll talk in the morning. Fear not kind souls but I will be back shortly with verbs and nouns and predecessors who triumph and capote all the way to the bank accounts. Where is Philip K Dick when you need him huh? Or even Nathaniel West, a man I just learned of today. My soul is Camus but my eyes say Sartre and Dylan and Kierke. The signs are all around me and I'm getting a headache so I'll stop now and let you rhyme with the rest of them, into darkness, into the sled of rosebud, into the fyre. You're hired.

universe

When you walk towards the light, all you see is a cry for help, madness and a Singapore sling waiting for you on their beach home in British Columbia. At least at this point, you may realize your true existence, your Being, your existenz. I pulled the chain rapidly as the boat sank, but no one came to help me. Frozen, I was. In time and space. Not caring or looking for the answer. The meaning to life and what it truly means to live. Everything around us is happening for us. Each individual has an important role in the meaning of the Universe. One must harness this energy and focus it onto what the Ultra Being guides us towards. Everything is heard and seen and felt and there maybe multiple offers on which direction to take. Just choose one, Ray said. But it feels like I'm going to implode into madness from too many iced lattes and frozen cappuccinos to make sense of my mind freezing, frozen, frost.

Thunder bellows at my doorstep. A hard rain is going to fall. Thank heavens I have shelter. Away from the storm. The lightning violently crackles like a Djarum Black cigarette. I breath smoke, then fire, then air again. And then I fall asleep, into the Void, letting all that matters once more, matters at nothing less than oblivion.

Leave in peace, for I will guide you.

smile. by gk. only gk. no other gk. just k

newborn mother

Newborn mother, deadbeat dad
trying to make ends meet,
that ain't bad
he said when vomited

Cry cry cry....oh sister of mine
the rapture is approaching and we're stuck as glue on the bath room floor shaking violently til blood rejects our veigns and we splatted into the asphalt below.

Come and get it! she said. What she meant I do not know, all I know is that if you want something you must be willing to go all the way with it. To the brink of madness and back. Will you survive? Well, I don't know. Maybe could make a difference in this situation even when plurals and compound sentences begin to cloud the judgement of the horse whispering, outlaw drinking opaque version of a Rembrandt painting sons a bitch hanging on the wall.

Maria went to school today but she didn't know how to board the bus properly and she fell. The bus driver  stood up briefly then back down again. Not minding the little girl and kept on his way. But who knows, maybe she found a new bus driver that day. A drunk one, with , experience of hitting people in a rage of hilarious loathing and drankassery. For shame!

myself

Where am I today? Hide n seek with my alter ego. Watching his every move inside me. Looking in the mirror for hope. I do not see myself. I see images of what I used to be, nothing more, nothing less. Have I changed? Ask questions you may never get answers to. Think outside the box when the box closes you in deep despair and trembling. When the worst part is over, the mind can begin fresh again. You may never see the goodness in a person, but you'll always have that instinct to love one another. Bar room fights and Pepsi cans, leading their way to mass consumption of both blood and caffeine. He broke my nose but I still fought back. My tears drain out of their sockets and down my face for no apparent reason, just because. I eat nothing yet I look terrible. I starve to make you happy. Will you love me? I'll be the best possible for you to distinguish my erratic side from the emptiness of my existence/ You watch the news but they're watching you. We view live media and we are apart of it because if we don't watch it, it won't be the same. Our collective energy creates what happens, the medium of television and radio is the answer to the flow of our lives. Flow, continuation. Happiness, love. What do you want kid? Moonshine by the bottle or love in the boudoir. Each is in sin by itself. Like a wise man once said, you can break bread and make wine into water, but you can't fly a helicopter unless you pay the man an extra 50 bucks. That is my thought for the day. Welcome.

roland the thompson gunner

There she was, walking down the street with her James Dean glossy eyes and a ribbon to cut at the opening of the new prison cell for the mentally blind. I took her hand as she cut that ribbon and she looked at me puzzled. I have never seen such a look on  a persons' face before. Was it meant to be? Did we outlast our welcome? Or was this another plane of events turn sideways by sex drugs and rock n roll. Drink your beer and sit still as I shake violently into the abyss. No doctor (including myself) can understand why the body acts a certain way during fear. Must be the pineal gland showing us who can really kick our ass when we get too drunk to fuck. I've been there, done that, but sometimes it just doesn't feel right on the money when you walk out of the chapel feeling naked and deprived of all bitter human existence. Cherries ring on the screen and you heart stops in just enough time that you piss yourself a little and wait for the ambulance to bring your chakras back to common identity. And it shall move forward, and go. Right between the sports and news section of your daily working man's press/ For the poor you may be sure that he'll do all he can. Am I the seventh son? Not likely but I sure do look like him.

stops

I used to drink, but that stopped. I used to have fun, but that stopped. I used to write, but that stopped. Everything stopped. One day, it just all stopped. Why did this happen? Have I changed? Has my body succumbed to the pills and the prescription. I try to smile but I just can't anymore. All my friends have deserted me. I'm a dead man. I try to see myself in other people but I just can't relate. My doctor says this will all pass. It's just a phase but I see things differently. But it looks grim from the bottom up. Watching someone pass in front of you will do that. Multiply that by 2. In the same month. I'm so sick of it all. Then it all just stops. And I'm normal again.